A/N: Short little thing I wrote because I was in need of some serious Brujay. If you don't like the pairing, don't read it because you'll just be unhappy. It's pretty much PWP with interesting dialogue, just a warning ahead of time. It was fun to write and hopefully it will be fun for you guys to read. Please review! If you like it then it might motivate me to write more. I always do love reading what people have to say, it helps me a lot.

Disclaimer: DC owns everything, I'm just borrowing characters for fun.

Blood & Bone

It was nights like these when he lingered too long, flooded with too many memories, too much pain. Gotham was quiet, leaving Bruce restless and riddled with guilt, guilt for what happened next.

"If I didn't know any better, I would think you were looking for me. But I do know better." An orange street lamp reflected dully off of red metal, rolling across its surface as the figure moved forward. "I know you were looking for me."

A slow frown formed on Bruce's face, familiar wrinkles creasing his skin. "Jason…"

"Save it." Jason held a hand up, "You're a broken record, Bruce. I could play you all night long, but we both know that's not why either of us is here". He turned his back to the man he once thought of as a father. "Tonight is not the night for forgiveness."

Bruce took a step forward, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "I just want you to come home, Jason. Whether you forgive me or not, just come home."

His eyes narrowed under the mask, shoulder jerking away from the caped crusader. Jason was up the fire escape in a matter of seconds, hoisting himself onto the rooftop. He ran, jumping between buildings and through deep shadows, knowing the bat would follow. He soon found himself on the windowsill of an empty apartment. Jason turned so he could see Bruce perched on the rooftop above. He yelled into the darkness, full of anger and pain. "How far into hell are you willing to go? Here is your test, Bruce!"

Part of him hesitated, and for that he hated himself. Bruce would do anything to save Jason, to tear him from this nightmare and bring him home. He failed him once, and he would never repeat that mistake. He followed Jason through the window and into the darkness. He would go to hell to bring Jason back, if that's what it took.

A solid punch connected with Bruce's jaw, staggering him backward and into a wood board leaning against the wall. He took a moment to catch himself, wiping the blood from his open lip. A light appeared in the blackness, casting yellow hues over Jason's face, the mask now gone. His face was so familiar, so resembling the boy he once loved that his chest tightened with every passing second. "Every day I wished it was me. I wished I was the one in that coffin, not you… never you."

A breathy chuckle escaped Jason's lips as he strode over to the dark knight, grabbing his cowl roughly and pulling him close. It was incredible how cold Bruce still looked even when saying something like that. It was impossible to see anything past a frown with that damned mask on. So he pulled it off in one swift movement, tossing it onto the floor. Now he could see it. It was faint, but it was there nonetheless: a trace of longing, a hint of pain, overbearing guilt, and something…else. "Show me. Show me what you would give up. What will you lose, and what will I take?"

Jason had been close enough already, Bruce didn't have to cup his face in his hands, didn't have to pull him closer, but he did. Their lips pressed softly and sweetly together, too innocently to mean anything more than "I missed you". Gloved hands slid gently down Jason's neck rubbing soft circles into his skin. They stopped abruptly when Bruce felt a sharp pain in his lower lip for the second time that night.

Jason licked the blood from the bite mark he had just created, "That's not how we do things. You've made your offer, now I'll take what's mine."

He could have stopped him, he could have kept pretending that shoulder pats and fatherly kisses were going to get Jason to come home, but even when the boy had been Robin, those things never worked. They always had to do things the hard way, the wrong way. So he let Jason push him down, his back now pressed against flaking concrete. He let him feel strong, seated on Bruce's stomach, a fire building inside him. Jason's wild blue eyes were filled with pain and need, the result of his failure drilling into him.

Jason tugged off the bat's gloves, tossing them by his forgotten cowl, "don't want anyone to get hurt, now do we?" He pulled a knife off his belt, letting it rest on Bruce's chest for a moment. "Try not to squirm or there might be an accident."

Bruce's eyes narrowed, but he stilled as the blade slid down the front of his suit, cutting it open. He was thankful for the utility belt still around his waist, blocking the knife's path. The minute the blade was off his skin, Bruce grabbed Jason's occupied hand and jammed the knife into a wooden board, stretching the boy's arm just enough to catch him off balance.

Little spots fluttered through his vision as the back of Jason's head connected with the floor. He tried to rise up but felt a heavy pressure on his chest. He had known it was only a matter of time before he would be the one on his back, but he hadn't expected it so soon. A toothy grin and quiet laughter earned more pressure to his ribs and a hand undoing his jacket. Finally they were getting somewhere.

Bruce sucked in a long string of air through his teeth, cold fingers pressed against his exposed skin. He forced Jason's jacket off, removing the hands that burdened him only long enough to get any other obstructive fabric on that half removed. Now he could see the scars, the reminders of what he had done. He wrapped his arms around the other's body pulling him close, pressing hard, open kisses at the base of his neck.

Jason clenched his jaw, keeping in a low moan. It was all still too sweet, too forgiving. Finally removing his ex mentor's famed utility belt, he ran a hand down the center of his suit, pinching and groping at marred skin. Practiced fingers dipped past the uncut seam to the suit's bottom half and circled around the prize. A light smirk came to Jason's lips as he felt it pulse hotly in his hand, already slick and wanton. He watched the older man's back arch before crushing their mouths together, biting, licking, and sucking. Jason's hand was wet and pumping, his own hips grinding into the heat. He wanted to feel it, and to know how far he had to go to have it.

Bruce winced and bit down hard on Jason's lip, causing him to pull back sharply. The boy's hand had squeezed a little too tightly, shooting a sharp pain through the caped crusader. He hissed and his blue eyes narrowed, "Robin, be car—" he caught himself too late and a dark, sickening smirk crossed Jason's features.

His chest shook with breathy laughter; he couldn't help himself. "You sick fuck." He stopped laughing and just looked at him, his eyes trailing a line down to what was still pulsing hotly in his hand. "I paraded around in green panties every night and all you were thinking about was my tight little ass." There was that shit eating grin again. "Well, I'll let you in on a little secret, Daddy dearest. Since we're being so honest tonight." Jason removed his hands from the warm fabric only momentarily, it took both to grab the cloth over Bruce's crotch and split it down the center.

Bruce instinctively went to guard his most sensitive area but made contact with an arm blocking his path instead. He locked eyes with Jason, a fierce heat burning within them.

"I used to dream about this. " Jason dipped his head down and ran his tongue along Bruce's length, gaze still holding steady. "I'd be so good that you'd hiss out my name like a dirty secret and beg me to keep going", he grazed his teeth along the sides, warm breath ghosting over straining flesh. "The best part was your favorite little boy blunder was watching it all. You were always so…eager."

He couldn't stop himself from glancing over at the broken window, his cock twitching involuntarily. Bruce's eyes narrowed as Jason's face lit up. He was growing tired of playing games. "That's not true."

"Oh? Does Dickie know how much you wanted him to see you fuck those green little panties off m—". He was caught off guard as Bruce lifted his leg and kicked his shoulder. He fell backward, arms scrambling to steady himself. A heavy weight fell upon him and he felt his pants being yanked off roughly. Jason sneered up at Bruce as the older man towered over him, a heavy palm on his stomach and the other spreading his legs apart. "Wait, no—I"

"I never had a favorite." A calloused finger was jammed into Jason roughly, pulling out almost fully and pressing back in again.

Jason couldn't help but think that it was just like Bruce to not even wet it first. It was difficult to hold in the dry sob threatening to escape his lips; his teeth ground together at the sudden sting. He supposed he deserved the pain for all of his harassment, but he wasn't about to give in quietly. "I'll make you pay for that, Bruce."

He could see the pain in Jason's expression and he wasn't entirely displeased. Bruce had gotten his point across, now the boy knew what he had gotten himself into. It was apparent that even with the pain, Jason was enjoying the game. Pulling his finger out Bruce bent over Jason and kissed him, tongue sliding in without much difficulty. That is until he felt a hand trail down his side, trying to get better acquainted with his lower half. Bruce drew back, and licked a finger before forcing it into Jason's mouth.

The boy tried to protest by biting at it, but all that did was get another finger put in his mouth. His resignation from the fight was hesitant, but his nips and bites slowly turned into licking and sucking. It wasn't fair that his body was reacting so shamelessly in front of his once mentor. It took all of Jason's focus not to close his eyes. He was grateful when the digits were removed and he could breathe properly again. What he wasn't prepared for was said fingers being pressed inside at the other end. This time he couldn't suppress the small noise at the back of his throat at how efficiently they slid in.

The smirk that twisted at the corner of Bruce's mouth couldn't be helped and that little bit of noise sent a jolt through him. He was eager to continue, hoping to elicit more. This wasn't what he had envisioned when making the night's rounds, but he couldn't honestly say he was disappointed. It was an unexpected turn of events, but Jason had been right about one thing, the thought had crossed his mind more times than was appropriate.

The younger man's eyes squeezed shut as he felt Bruce's fingers move. The first couple minutes of pain were worth the pleasure now coursing through him. His entire body was buzzing but it wasn't enough. Thin fingers slipped under the fabric of Bruce's suit, but were halted before reaching their destination.

Bruce was quick to notice when Jason started feeling good. The soft mewling accompanied by glares only spurred him on. He pulled his fingers out and stopped Jason's hands halfway up his chest. Shifting so he was hunched further over the boy, He lifted Jason's shirt and ran his tongue along the muscles on his abdomen. He followed the line of a particularly jagged scar, pressing a kiss to it gently. Jason flinched beneath him and his fingers removed themselves from the sensitive area, but neither action slowed the soft glide of Bruce's mouth across lightly salted skin. Blue eyes stayed trained on the boy beneath him and only when he felt a calloused hand burrow in his hair did he stop and lift up slightly. The look in Jason's eyes was more painful than the knife-edge now pressed to his chest.

He knew Bruce could've stopped it, could've taken it from him even before he held it against his already scarred skin. He hadn't though, and even still he made no move to take it away. Jason thought phlegmatically that the bat should've thrown it when he had the chance rather than sticking it in the wooden board. It had been entirely too easy to recover. His focus, however, was doing his best not to show how much the thought of losing Bruce tore at him. "I could kill you. I could end your suffering. "

The sting of cool metal sliding across his skin was a sensation Bruce was more than accustomed to. The pain that followed and the flow of blood was something he would never be keen on. Even as the pain washed over him only his jaw tightened, hand taking the knife from his companion's hand rather easily and sliding it across the room. "You won't kill me, not tonight."

Jason wrapped his legs around the older man's center and rocked forward, pressing his weight against Bruce so he tilted backward. He took the opportunity to clasp his hands around Bruce's neck and push him the rest of the way down. "I won't, I'll take your life instead. I'll consume every part of you until you hate me. Until you wish I had shoved that knife through your goddamn throat."

Bruce knew Jason would never be the one to kill him; they needed each other too much. There was too much pain and guilt shared between them for either one to end it. There was still the hope in the back of his mind that one night Jason wouldn't look at him with such a wounded gaze and instead there would be forgiveness.

This was not that night.

-FIN