(AU world where Damian was at least 15 when he was Dick's Robin. For reasons.)
Dick rolls them over and pins Damian down with his hands and a sharp grin that makes Damian’s heart race. “Put on your costume. The old one, when you were --”
“Your Robin,” Damian says, smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “That’s slightly perverse, you know.”
Dick swoops down, bites along his jaw, growls, “You love it,” and squeezes Damian’s hip. “Now go.”
***
Damian takes extra time getting into the costume, careful not to rip any threads seeing as how he outgrew the older costume years ago. He preens in the mirror for a moment, making sure everything looks in order, before walking back out to the bedroom.
Dick smiles when he sees him, eyes raking over him hungrily, frowning when he reaches his feet. “Where are the boots?”
Damian huffs. “Honestly? Aren’t you just going to take them off in ten seconds anyway?”
Dick’s leer is full of filth and promises that makes Damian’s stomach tighten and his dick twitch beneath the tight spandex pants. “Maybe I want you to leave them on.”
***
“Fuck,” Dick groans, thrusting into Damian, fists clutching the yellow cape fanned out beneath him. “This is...yeah god, this is the best idea I’ve ever had.”
Damian’s nails bite into Dick’s shoulder as Dick’s teeth graze his neck, sucking a slow, dark bruise into his skin. “Marks, Grayson,” he scolds.
“I don’t care,” Dick groans, hitching Damian’s hips up a little higher, eyes rolling back into his head when the angle of it makes them both cry out. The soles of Damian’s boots are rubbing the skin off of Dick’s back where his ankles are hooked around him, but he doesn’t even care. “I thought about this,” Dick says, leaning back a little so he can get his hand on Damian, match up his strokes with his thrusts. “Taking you on a roof. In some dark alley. In the --”
“Batmobile,” Damian groans, bucking into Dick’s tight fist. “You could have, you know. All of those things. Any of them. Any time.”
“Fuck, Damian,” Dick arches his back, fingers digging into the meat of Damian’s thighs. “You were so much smaller then, could’ve easily god, climbed into my lap and rode me--”
“Oh god,” Damian gasps and Dick tightens his grip on him, strokes him harder, faster, until Damian finally arches completely off the bed, shouting obscenities and clawing at the sheets as he comes all over Dick’s fingers and the red tunic Dick made him leave on.
“Jesus christ,” Dick breathes out and crowds over Damian, fingers tracing the outline of the domino mask he’d quickly adhered earlier. “My Robin,” he growls, pressing his forehead against Damian’s as he thrusts into him a few more times, muttering a string of profanities next to Damian's ear, ripping the cape a little when he finally comes inside of him.
“That,” Damian exhales when Dick finally rolls off of him, dragging a hand across his forehead to wipe away the sweat. “We should. That. Again sometime.”
Beside him, Dick grins. “I thought it was ‘perverse’?”
If Damian could feel his legs he’d probably kick him.
fill
Dick rolls them over and pins Damian down with his hands and a sharp grin that makes Damian’s heart race. “Put on your costume. The old one, when you were --”
“Your Robin,” Damian says, smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “That’s slightly perverse, you know.”
Dick swoops down, bites along his jaw, growls, “You love it,” and squeezes Damian’s hip. “Now go.”
***
Damian takes extra time getting into the costume, careful not to rip any threads seeing as how he outgrew the older costume years ago. He preens in the mirror for a moment, making sure everything looks in order, before walking back out to the bedroom.
Dick smiles when he sees him, eyes raking over him hungrily, frowning when he reaches his feet. “Where are the boots?”
Damian huffs. “Honestly? Aren’t you just going to take them off in ten seconds anyway?”
Dick’s leer is full of filth and promises that makes Damian’s stomach tighten and his dick twitch beneath the tight spandex pants. “Maybe I want you to leave them on.”
***
“Fuck,” Dick groans, thrusting into Damian, fists clutching the yellow cape fanned out beneath him. “This is...yeah god, this is the best idea I’ve ever had.”
Damian’s nails bite into Dick’s shoulder as Dick’s teeth graze his neck, sucking a slow, dark bruise into his skin. “Marks, Grayson,” he scolds.
“I don’t care,” Dick groans, hitching Damian’s hips up a little higher, eyes rolling back into his head when the angle of it makes them both cry out. The soles of Damian’s boots are rubbing the skin off of Dick’s back where his ankles are hooked around him, but he doesn’t even care. “I thought about this,” Dick says, leaning back a little so he can get his hand on Damian, match up his strokes with his thrusts. “Taking you on a roof. In some dark alley. In the --”
“Batmobile,” Damian groans, bucking into Dick’s tight fist. “You could have, you know. All of those things. Any of them. Any time.”
“Fuck, Damian,” Dick arches his back, fingers digging into the meat of Damian’s thighs. “You were so much smaller then, could’ve easily god, climbed into my lap and rode me--”
“Oh god,” Damian gasps and Dick tightens his grip on him, strokes him harder, faster, until Damian finally arches completely off the bed, shouting obscenities and clawing at the sheets as he comes all over Dick’s fingers and the red tunic Dick made him leave on.
“Jesus christ,” Dick breathes out and crowds over Damian, fingers tracing the outline of the domino mask he’d quickly adhered earlier. “My Robin,” he growls, pressing his forehead against Damian’s as he thrusts into him a few more times, muttering a string of profanities next to Damian's ear, ripping the cape a little when he finally comes inside of him.
“That,” Damian exhales when Dick finally rolls off of him, dragging a hand across his forehead to wipe away the sweat. “We should. That. Again sometime.”
Beside him, Dick grins. “I thought it was ‘perverse’?”
If Damian could feel his legs he’d probably kick him.