_ Chapter 3 _

Tim was an okay babysitter. He stayed near and kept quiet, all key components Jason required in someone looking after him.

Since Bruce had quickly nipped in the bud the idea that anyone in the manor was a suspect, Tim was, once again, allowed to walk the halls without having to worry about Damian seeking revenge. Unfortunately for Jason Tim used this freedom to herd him back to Tim's den.

Jason had expected a lot from the so called perfect son. He had expected tech everywhere, books lining the walls and mini bat projects stolen from the cave here or there. What he hadn't expected was the reality.

"And you called me messy," Jason snorted.

Messy was a polite way of explaining Tim's room. There were plates squirreled away under sheets or on tables. There were books, sure, but Jason thought they were better used for keeping stuff up than for reading. Clothes littered the floor and bed, Tim tip toeing around it all far too easily for someone survivng in this mess. Really, the only thing that was spotless was Tim's laptop, and even that, right now, was sitting next to a pile of goo Jason didn't look too close at.

"Does Alfred know about this?"

Tim looked around, seeming for all the world like he saw nothing wrong. "Of course he does."

Jason wondered if Alfred had simply given up then. He wouldn't put it past the man. After Dick pretty much leaving the manor destroyed whenever he came he was probably happy that Tim kept his little tornado habits to one area.

"You can sit down," Tim said, already on his back typing something in his phone.

Jason was tempted to tell Tim they weren't staying here but, one, he didn't want to encourage Tim to spread his habit further than his own room, and two, well, he was tired and his own room was so far away. So he huffed instead, asking 'Where?" And sat in the sorry little gap of cleanliness Tim pointed to.

Jason napped most of the afternoon away. Once he had cleaned his little spot enough to lie down that was. He was woken once by Damian, the kid kicking Tim's door in to demand 'Todd' so he could clean his bandages. Jason figured Bruce had put him up to it to get his mind off Titus. Either that or phrased it like a mission since Damian was damn right gentle as he unwrapped the old.

When they were off, Jason felt the room shift from restrained annoyance to blatant curiosity. Mostly because he heard Tim slide off his bed and pad closer. He felt like a bug under a microscope as the two of them stared at his thighs. He had the urge to cover up, or maybe make a joke, something that didn't warrant his little brothers looking so closely at his naked skin.

Tim was the one to break the silence, a curious "Huh," falling from his lips.

"Huh?" Jason repeated. Of all the responses, huh hadn't been it.

Tim scratched his head, bending down a little to look closer. This time Jason did cover up a little, scowling when Tim sent the same look his way. "I just want to look."

Jason covered up more, "Do I look like a free show to you? Either buy a ticket or piss off."

A grunt too batlike for Jason's liking passed Tim's lips before he was retreating back to his side of the room.

Jason gave Damian a little nudge, the kid having done nothing but stare at the scratches, or Jason's hands now, since he'd finished unwrapping. "Kid?"

The nudge worked, Damian grabbing the new set and whacking Jason's hands away with more force than he thought necessary. He was gentle here too, Jason definitely sensing Bruce's influence as Damian tied the final knot.

"That was not your handwriting," Damian said at last.

Jason shifted away, pulling his sweats back up. "It's on skin Damian. It's not like it's gonna be my best work."

Damian scowled, looking like a mini Bruce when he did. "That is not the point Todd. The angle, the way it was written it sll suggests they were opposite you, there is no way you could get your hand to twist the correct way to do the flick of the K. Not with your workout routine anyway. Then there is the writing itself-"

"Alright, alright," Jason snapped. He didn't want to hear this, he knew all this himself, and he couldn see Tim perking up, ready to add his own observations in. "Look, there may have been a period in my week where someone could have slipped in and done it. I don't know, and I don't appreciate the third degree about it. Just drop it okay?"

Damian cocked his head, reminding Jason all too well like Dick from his nightmares. "I don't understand, you don't recall getting these marks?"

"Does it look like I do?"

Damian and Tim shared a look. Actually shared a look like they hadn't been sworn enemies a few minutes prior.

"What?"

"Jay," Tim started slowly, like he was speaking to a child, or someone dumb. It was no wonder he wanted to bash this kids head in when he did stuff like this. "You should remember if this happened. That is far too precise not to have been painful."

He stopped himself from snapping. "I know," he said instead. "And yet, until Bruce pointed it out to me, I didn't have a clue it was there." They shared another look. "Drop it," he said again.

They did, this time, Damian mentioning some progress in the cave he had to get back to. Jason tried to nap as soon as the door closed, feeling like this time he actually was getting better. He just needed a few more hours and then he could safely fly this nest.

Of course, Tim didn't get the message. As soon as he thought enough time passed that Jason was asleep he tried to sneak another look at Jason's brand.

At first, Jason didn't know who the fingers belonged to. He was in that inbetween realm of sleep and awake. Enough that when Tim came a creeping he thought it was Dick. His body seized, torn between letting it happen or turning away again. Thankfully, Tim made a squeak of distress, scuffling back a few inches. His little brother instead of his big brother was easier to deal with, especially when Tim started to make a game out of it.

He supposed, from Tim's point of view he was playing a far more dangerous 'What's the time Mr Wolf' getting as close as he could to Jason before one jerk or grunt sent him back to the start. Jason probably would have liked to play. If he wasn't the wolf and wasn't yearning to sleep that is. Yet he was, so after a while he fully blamed Tim for the jerks and grunts turning into swift punches and kicks. He fully blamed Tim too for trying again and being sat on for his efforts.

"Get off," Tim choked, struggling under Jason's weight. He wondered, briefly, if this was what it would be like if he stuck around more. A lot of wrestling, a lot of name calling. Ordinary big brother things. Either way, when Tim called him fat, he didn't hesitate a second before jumping his weight back onto him.

They had to call a truce when Alfred called them for dinner. Jason was surprisingly well enough to get downstairs by himself, and even had an appetite when Alfred put lasagne in front of him. It must have been a special occasion since Alfred had even baked them a cake for afterwards. Jason only realised when he saw Alfred set himself down in the last seat at the grand oak table that he was probably happy he had the whole family under one roof. More, that Bruce had decided to join them tonight instead of holing himself up on one case or another in the cave.

Sure, it wasn't the most amiable of dinners, it was their family after all, but it was kind of nice. Especially since he wasn't the one causing all the drama tonight.

Damian was still upset, which he had a right to be, and regardless if Dick or Tim were trying to make him feel better Jason knew what it was like for nothing to penetrate that shell of anger. They could bribe him, be nice to him and even offer to let Damian help all he could to solve this mystery but it didn't change the fact that Titus was dead, and there was nothing he could do to ever not see his body lying like that in the halls he thought were safe.

Dinner ended with half of the family retreating to the cave to suit up, while the rest, namely Jason and Tim, helped Alfred with clean up.

"Shouldn't you be putting your cape on too?" Jason asked as he handed Tim another plate to dry.

"I will. After. Bruce wanted me to make sure you came down too, but you seem better and he mentioned you liked helping Alfred so..."

Jason grunted, turning back to the soapy tub in front of him. He didn't know what he was more upset about, that Bruce could still predict him after all these years, or that he was going to be spending another evening in the cave. He didn't get his afternoon nap after all, he would have thought that time alone would be enough to warrant at least some rest.

For once, when Jason got down to the cave, it wasn't just Bruce that wasn't donning the cowl. There, in the seat next to him, was Damian, the kid still in his pyjama's from this morning sifting through hours of surveillance footage of the manor. For the first time in ages it looked like Batman and Robin weren't going to be patrolling the streets. How would Gotham survive?

"Nightwing's already on fifth. He wants you to meet up for a drug bust," Bruce informed as Tim and Jason came closer.

"That's generous," Jason said,knowing for a fact that Bruce had been talking to Tim "But I'm afraid I'm gonna have to decline. See, there's this big Bat guy who has this rule about being sick and patrolling."

"Ha, ha," Bruce drawled, getting up regardless to let Jason take his seat. He went off to help Tim suit up.

Since there was nothing really for Jason to do here, he rewound the tapes, batting Damian off when the kid started putting up a fuss, and tried to see if he could make any sense of what was in front of them.

There was nothing really to look at. The halls of Wayne Manor were almost always quiet, which was convenient when a murder happened since it was easier to spot them.

The first thing Jason did was check out everyone's alibi's. He was sure Bruce and Damian had already done it, but it never hurt to check for himself. TIm's was easy to check out. The kid was like a zombie tripping over his own feet to his room. Jason swore Tim didn't even make it to the bed last night, what with the way his foot stuck out of his door for three hours. The only time Tim moved was when the first scream came from Damian, he was up like a shot after that, almost making it to the crime scene before Bruce intercepted and sent him into the nearest room.

Damian was next. His story checked out, the kid toddling out of his room at five, and Jason bit back a laugh at the little sleepy stumble Damian made into Titus, knowing that he would get punched, or worse if he gave in. There was a little chase too, Titus shuffling Alfred along before Damian intercepted, picking the cat up to carry him the rest of the way to the kitchen. If Jason saved that little video for later that was his own business.

Cass' story linked in with Damian's, just like she said, which eventually just left Dick and Bruce.

The library had a camera in, one without any sound unfortunately. Worse, Bruce, since he knew where the camera was, knew where to sit, and where to angle himself so his words wouldn't be caught on camera. Sometimes, Jason wished Bruce wasn't as smart as he was. Especially since, from the worried look on Dick's face, Jason could guess they were talking about him.

They were in there the amount of time Dick said they had been. He even watched as himself zombied in at the allotted time, swaying like the dead incarnate as he fell on Bruce. He ignored the snicker from Damian when Jason damn well curled up like a cat against Bruce. He was ill and sleepwalking, he's allowed to be a little needy when he wasn't in his right mind.

When everything there checked out, Jason rewound the tape once more and focused on Titus. "You know," Jason said, breaking the silence, "I always wanted a dog when I lived here. It was kind of lonely, you know with Bruce barely around. Only thing was the old man kept saying no." Everything from Jason wasn't responsible enough to Alfred wouldn't allow pets in the manor- despite it being Bruce's house to begin with- had come out of Bruce's mouth in the six month period Jason had begged for a dog. "Said no to Dick too. Tim as well probably."

Damian tutted next to him, "Of course he would. You didn't even keep yourself alive, how could he think to trust you with an animal."

Jason ignored the words that wanted to come out. Damian was upset, he reminded himself. He didn't want to make things worse, not when he was staying another night at the manor. "Whatever," Jason settled on, watching as Titus veered off from Damian just as they got to the kitchen. "Strange."

"What?" Damian asked, immediately perking to attention. Jason rewound the tape to where Damian and Titus separated again. "What Todd?"

"See here," He pointed out, pausing the tape and playing it on a loop. "Strange isn't is?"

Damian looked, his eyes taking a while before he spotted it too. On screen, there wasn't a noticeable change in Titus when played regularly. However, Jason had went through a faze where he was obsessed with dogs. He had been interested in everything about them not just because he wanted one himself. Back in his old apartment with his mom, there had been a neighbour and a few other people on the streets with dogs. These weren't the nice ones Jason saw in parks, with their owners throwing a ball and the dog sitting when told. These dogs were territorial, grown to be vicious and bite when provoked. If Jason had a hope of surviving, he had to learn what behaviours to watch out for. It was surprising, when he became Robin, how much of that knowledge was transferable when it came to sneaking around. Still didn't mean he got a dog.

"Bruce," Jason called over, showing him the footage. For a moment, before Titus trotted off, his tail stopped, his ears perking up and Jason would have bet anything that his nose was twitching if he had been facing the camera. "Something got his attention."

Jason played the rest of the tape, watching Titus closely. He didn't look like he was worried, his tail wagging as he walked like he was being lead up the stairs. He stopped when he got to the room outside where Jason was sleeping, padding in to lick Jason's sleeping face before seeming to be called out again.

Bruce leant over him, taking over the controls as he rewound and switched camera's, looking at every angle he could to try and find what was keeping Titus' attention. Jason wasn't surprised when he was wheeled into Damian, Bruce needing full access to the console now they had a lead.

Damian didn't even snap at the contact, hopping out of his chair to climb onto Jason's. "Father, Titus wouldn't have followed anyone he doesn't know."

Bruce grunted his acknowledgement.

"You train him?" Jason asked.

"Of course," Damian scoffed. "He has heightened senses, it was only natural that I use these to my full advantage. Titus was to obey only myself and father."

"Was?"

Damian scowled. "Grayson may have wormed his way into Titus' favour."

"Doesn't explain why he's nice to me," Jason grinned. "Admit it kid, you had him protect the whole family, not just you."

Damian tutted, but stayed silent.

They watched the screens for a while longer, Bruce fixating on the hallway where Titus was found. It was the moment after Titus made to enter the hallway again where the cameras cut out. Jason would have thought the camera's had some kind of memory, a thing that kept recording even if the feed was cut off from the cave, but when he asked, Bruce said that too was cut off. It was like someone had just infiltrated their whole system and shut it down for two minutes.

"I don't understand why it was the dog," Jason said.

"Titus," Damian corrected.

"I know his name kid. But think about it, this guy, whoever it was, had the opportunity to off us. Or, me at least, yet it went for Titus. It just, if it was feeding, fair enough, but that display was too brutal. Nothing was missing, was it?"

Bruce shook his head, "Everything was still there."

"A message then?" Jason hypothesised. "You piss anyone off recently?"

Bruce shook his head again. "No one that would do this."

"It could still be a message," Damian said. "It wouldn't be the first time someone has went after us through our reputation alone."

Kidnappers, black mailers, they had seen it all through the years. It wasn't just Batman and Robin that were targets in Gotham, just having the Wayne name often had people going after them, hoping for some kind of revenge or reward out of it. Still, if that were the case they would go after one of the actual people in the house, not the dog.

He thought back to all the break ins he knew about where pets were involved. Sometimes pets got hurt, territorial as they were they were always capable of attacking or blowing the whole job if they made too much noise. Usually, in those cases, the perp. would use a quick method to get rid of the problem. A bullet or a swift whack. The pet was never the priority, always a second thought. In this case, it looked the opposite. But no one had a grudge against a dog, it was just a dog.

"My head hurts," Jason groaned. He was too tired for this.

Bruce and Damian weren't. They spent the whole night, when they weren't coordinating teams in the field, looking over the footage, trying to figure out why Titus had been targeted and by who. Jason, having grown bored and banned from sleep until Bruce said so was forced to look at other means of entertaining himself.

Better as he was, the training mats were looking pretty good. However, the moment Jason put one little toe on them a warning, "Jason," rang in the cave, Bruce not even turning around to tell him any physical idea like that was off limits.

The med bay was just boring, and since Jason got told off for going near the cars as well, he ended up lying on the cave floor bat staring. He'd named fifteen when something jumped on his chest. He let out a rather unmanly scream, memories from his dream seizing him again. But it wasn't Dick. Something Jason knew because Damian was laughing his ass off at the computer as Alfred the cat curled up purring on Jason's chest.

"You've got too many animals," Jason hissed.

"Whatever Todd."

Alfred the cat was a testy little thing. He wanted Jason to stroke him, but when he did he dug his little claws in Jason's chest. When he didn't, he nudged and batted Jason's face until he did. Jason couldn't win. He couldn't even chuck the thing off because Damian warned him off it with a few scathing sentences.

After a while of painful claws in his chest Alfred settled and dozed, something Jason wished he could do as well. Unfortunately for him, Jason didn't know just how warm cats were, you know, since he never had one thanks to Bruce. Warm, fluffy Alfred without his claws was a soothing little thing. With every breath Jason felt himself drifting.

It seemed the inhabitants of the manor really didn't want to let Jason nap. It felt like seconds before Alfred's claws were back in his chest, the nails actually piercing skin as a horrid yowl filled the air. Alfred didn't stop even when Jason got the damn thing off him. He circled around Jason, hissing outwards and occasionally clawing the air until he just stopped and sat like nothing was wrong.

"What the hell was that about?" Jason asked him. "You see a shadow?"

Alfred wasn't listening, cats never did, so Jason wasn't too surprised when Alfred started washing himself.

"Damian, your cat's defective."

When he looked back, both Bruce and Damian were watching him, mirrored scowls on their faces. Damian hopped up to grab Alfred, holding him up eye level before glaring at Jason as he retreated back to Bruce.

"What?" He asked when the scowls didn't lessen. "I didn't do anything."

"Why don't you go to bed Jay?" Bruce more or less ordered rather than asked.

Jason bit his lip, turning his back and doing what he was told. It wouldn't do to get into an argument he reminded himself. It didn't mean he took the hint any less harshly. He could understand the hidden meaning, Bruce telling him not so subtly Jason was being a hindrance in his concentration.

The sheets had been replaced when he got to his room. Now that he was well, Jason had mixed feelings about staying here. It had too many memories. It was like a shrine to his fifteen year old self. Hell, when he went looking he could still find his porn magazines hidden beneath his bed. There was a reason he slept in the other rooms when he came here. He wasn't this kid any more. He wasn't the image Bruce had kept of him all these years, and Jason wasn't petty enough to ruin that image by destroying what Bruce had kept of his room.

Still, it was the only room on this floor with an en suite.

It just dawned on him when he went rooting for some boxers that all the clothes in his drawers were his size. Thing was, he remembered these outfits from when he was fifteen. Alfred must have upgraded whatever was in here to his size. It was kind of creepy. Especially since he hadn't had a fitting at the manor since his resurrection. He decided not to dwell on it, grabbing the first shorts he saw and heading to the shower.

As usual it only took a few minutes before Jason went from angry to boneless under the hot spray. He wondered if this was how good Alfred the cat felt when he got a scratch, if it was, Jason thought, ducking his head under again, it was pretty damn good.

Now, while he had told Dick off for his long showers before, when given the opportunity himself, Jason wasn't exactly in and out himself. There was just something about being warm and the water bouncing off his skin that soothed any problems he had, and since he was staying at the manor, those problems had only continued to mount. Still, he had to admit, deep down, that there was a part of him that had sat at dinner tonight and enjoyed looking around to see other people there. He liked his lifestyle, he really did, but there were times when he ached so badly for someone to sit with him, just be in the same room so he wasn't alone. When he had been a kid it had been Alfred, that man always knowing, somehow, when Jason needed the company. Back from the dead and the not so golden child any more, there weren't many people he could just be around without them asking too many uncomfortable questions.

It must have been ten minutes before those ideas flew out of his head, all because one of the idiots not on patrol knocked on his door. There were three short raps, no questions following or, 'it's me,' just silence. He had the urge to snap at them, tell them to piss off until he was done and then take an extra five minutes just to keep whoever was on the other side waiting. However, some self preservation instinct inside him told him not to, for him to wait and see if the other person would crack first.

They did, three short raps coming again, but this time on the wall. Again, no one spoke, but Jason did hop out of the shower. He kept the water running as he towelled his hair, keeping all noise of his location as near to the stream of water as possible. Someone had been in the manor after all, who was to say they weren't on the other side.

Knock, knock, knock.

It came from the wall, the one near the shower and right in Jason's line of sight. He moved, edging closer to the towel rack, nearly jumping out of his skin when the knocks came from there too. Whoever it was knew where he was moving. They weren't in one place or there was more than one of them as the knocking came from the ceiling. Jason dove towards the medicine cabinet, sifting through new products Alfred had bought him until he came to the back panel. He hoped to God they had really left things the way Jason had left them as he picked the small square near the bottom away. When he first moved in, and was still cautious of Bruce, he always kept a batarang in there, one he'd stolen from the cave and was sure Bruce hadn't known about. When he got older it was always there as a 'just in case' scenario. But, of course, Bruce or Alfred had decided to remove it in the last few years since when Jason actually needed it the batarang was gone.

He swore, improvisation taking over as he knocked off the bar of the towel rack. He thanked God Bruce was filthy rich as the bar weighed heavy in his hands. Hefting it to a good height, he edged closer to the door. All he needed was to get one good swing in and he could run to the cave. Bruce would be a good distraction as Jason looked for weapons or-

"Jay?"

"Dick?"

"Jay? You okay?" That was definitely Dick.

"Yeah," He said, still keeping the bar high, "You?"

"As fine as anyone can be today." He didn't sound worried, or strained. As far as Jason could tell there were no double meanings in his words either. Just plain old Dick. Maybe whoever was messing with him ran when Dick came near. They certainly hadn't stuck around to see the reactions to Titus.

"You alone?" Jason couldn't help but check anyway."

"Of course."

He wasn't stupid enough to drop the bar, but he did unlock the door, opening it a little to find Dick, alone, on the other side, peering those big puppy dog eyes of his around until they landed on Jason. "There you are," He smiled.

Jason let Dick come in, taking one quick look into his room before closing and locking the door again. Dick was flicking his fingers through the water, the shower still running warm because Bruce had the best system money could buy. "You see anyone on your way up?"

Dick flicked his fingers one last time, his eyes immediately latching onto the lowered bar, "No. Why?"

Jason thought about telling him about the knocks. It would have been the right thing to do, but, now that he thought about it, there was no way someone could knock on the tiled wall of his shower. The vent, sure, since the room next to his could travel sound, but the tiles, there was no way. From that direction, the only thing next to it were the bricks and the outside. There was no other room that way. He supposed it could have just been a trick of the mind. He sure had been imagining some crazy things these days, and it wouldn't be the first time he'd been tricked while he was awake. He distinctly remembered one winter when he was thirteen where he freaked the hell out of Bruce. His fever had been high and he'd been convinced he could see someone behind Bruce, just standing in the shadows. He'd been so insistent Bruce had camped out with him all day and night with the lights on until Jason could no longer see it. This could have been just that.

So he just said, "Nothing," and changed the subject. "What are you doing back so early? Thought you had an important drugs bust with Tim."

Dick shrugged, "Figured there was something more important."

"What? You helping Bruce too?"

At the mention of Bruce, Jason swore he saw Dick still, his eyes roving around lightning fast before relaxing and focusing back on Jason. "No silly, I meant you." He came closer, fingers trailing down the bar until they met Jason's, slowly easing the metal out until Dick could toss it to the floor. "You look scared Jay. What's wrong?"

"Someone just killed our dog and we have no idea who. I think I have a right to be scared." Not that he was. Jumpy, maybe, but scared was a bit of a stretch.

Dick linked their fingers together, tugging his hand up until he could hold it close to his chest. Jason felt his breath catch as Dick spread his fingers out. This was... this was so close to those dreams he'd been having that it was hard to think clearly. It was hard to swallow, especially when Dick wouldn't look away from him. He wondered how Kori even kept herself away. God, just a look and Jason was almost melting.

"You know I'd never let anything happen to you Jay."

"Dick," He breathed.

The fingers on his tightened slightly, spreading the top two almost painfully away. "No matter what you do, I won't let anything hurt you. It will never be you." He kissed the pads of Jason's fingers, feather light, almost platonic had his eyes not promised something entirely different.

He let go, Jason taking his hand back like he'd just been burned and seeming to bring Dick with him. "Dick?" This was in no way platonic. Dick's entire being seemed to exude want, and as much as Jason wanted to give in a bigger, louder, part of him wondered where this was all coming from. Was it the shock of Titus making Dick think differently today? Had he been drugged, which Jason was actually more in favour of. Or was this just some big joke?

Jason tried to edge back, his thighs hitting the sink. Dick followed every step, keeping close and begging Jason to turn him away, to really tell him no. He wanted to, some part of him told him he had to. But then Dick said, "You're so precious to me," like he really was the greatest thing to walk this earth and Jason just lost the will to care.

Jason didn't waste time with chaste. He'd been wanting to kiss Dick since his cock first learned how to get hard. With one hand keeping Dick in place he enacted every fantasy he had about kissing Dick. Fast, slow, hard, soft, tongue, he did it all until Dick was pushing him back into the sink, his eyes wild as he hitched a leg and ground himself into Jason's hip. "You always taste so good," Dick huffed and, well, Jason hadn't the mind to examine that right now. Especially since Dick was asking him, "How do you want it? How do you want me Jay?"

He groaned, so many images from his late night musings coming to mind. The most prominent one however, was one he'd had while he was here, in this bathroom. He didn't really want to move, Dick an amazing sight in front of him, so he turned instead until he could face the mirror. Two furrowed brows met his own, the question clear on Dick's face. Jason bent until his arms could brace themselves on the sink. He could still see Dick through the mirror, most of him visible now Jason's bulk wasn't in the way. Like this, it was hard not to imagine he was a kid again, and when Dick reached for the elastic on his boxers Jason shook him off with a blush on his cheeks. "Like this. Just, get off." It was awkward saying it out loud, and considering his childhood he shouldn't be nervous about sex. Yet here he was, stuttering around his words. He would have been more embarrassed but it kind of added to the effect of his fantasy.

Dick hesitated a moment before understanding came into his eyes. Jason prepared himself for correcting Dick again, thinking in his mind the specifics he needed to say and hoping to God he wouldn't sound like a virgin again. Yet, he didn't have to. Dick had understood and stood behind him, tossing his shirt off and keeping those predatory eyes on Jason as he grabbed his hips.

The first brush against his ass had Jason shivering, Dick starting off gently as he thrust and rubbed himself against Jason. He spread his legs wider, his boxers pulling up and curving more to the insides of his thighs. The friction was tame, but Jason had wanted it to be. It wasn't about the feeling of Dick that got him off when he was like this, it was the look. The look of Dick with his eyes trained on Jason, a smile tugging on his cheeks like he couldn't believe this was happening either. It was the way his head was tossed back slightly, his neck long and golden, just begging for Jason to bite it. His arms, both of them tense with hands out of sight because they were holding onto Jason, keeping him in place for where Dick wanted him to be. It was Dick's chest, smooth and unmarked, lifting with every harsh pant and thrust he made onto Jason.

The image alone was everything Jason had wanted to see. Enough for him to writhe back, spread further until Dick's clothed cock managed to pull the fabric tight over his hole. Jason groaned as Dick did it again, one of Dick's hands going to the elastic again to pull it tight so every move had some friction grazing over him. Jason unlatched one of his arms from the sink, digging it into his boxers until he found his cock. He kept looking at Dick in the mirror, the way he grew more excited, that smile sharper the closer he got.

Jason moaned, high pitched and needy, his heart thumping loudly in his ears as he tugged himself once, twice and came. The thumping still came, Jason dazedly thinking that sounded much louder than his heart as Dick pulled away. Without Dick there, Jason had no support, his legs falling from under him, his jaw smashing uncomfortably off the side of the sink as he fell back. The thumping seemed to fade, Jason thinking he'd calmed down enough not to hear himself as he looked for Dick.

He couldn't find him. Dick wasn't there.

Until he was, his hair damp like he'd been in the shower, his stupid superman pyjama's that were way too small for him on his scar covered skin and mouthing something Jason couldn't quite understand.

"Bruce!" finally breeched his ears, Dick screeching like a banshee. "You're gonna be okay Jay, you hear me? Jay?" He yelled for Bruce until Alfred came, the man taking one look before actually running out of the room.

Time was rather a funny concept. He could have sworn he only blinked before Bruce was in front of him, careful hands lifting his head as Bruce shone a light in his eyes. He wanted to tell them he was fine, that he was just tired and he'd slipped, but his body wasn't cooperating. All it did was lay there, feeling like his life was being drained out of him.

Then it wasn't. He could move, and the first thing he did was push Bruce away.

He scuttled back, keeping his legs close. The last thing he needed was Bruce to see he'd cum in his pants, if he hadn't already. Yet, when he moved and certainly when he sat there fending off his old man, he couldn't feel any uncomfortably stickiness. He couldn't feel anything. His boxers were bone dry. If it wasn't for his jaw hurting he would think he'd- crap.

He wanted to cry.

None of that happened. Not a single part. He knew from just how Dick sat there that none of it happened. Like he'd said before, he couldn't be in two places at once. Yet- urgh, why? Why was his mind fixating on Dick? This was cruel, it was unfair, and before he knew it he really was crying. Big, heaving sobs because he felt tired again. He just wanted to sleep. He'd been feeling better and-

"It's okay Jay," Bruce soothed, chancing coming closer again. "You're okay." Jason kicked out, Bruce catching his foot and using it to pull Jason closer, tugging him into a rare hug he seemed to be getting a lot of lately. "You're going to be fine."