He's good-looking, but then, Bruce knew that when he picked him out. He looked through the photographs online, even spoke to him over the phone - and still, Bruce isn't quite ready for Jason when he sees him.
"So where are we going?" Jason asks when he gets in the car and sits down across from Bruce. He's well-dressed, expensive suit and tie and even more expensive shoes, his hair just the right side of tousled like someone just got done putting their hands in it.
"There's an art show downtown. Proceeds go to a local orphanage," Bruce says. Jason helps himself to a drink from the mini fridge, licks the soda from his lips. "I think one of my friends contributed some pieces for that. I told him if he wanted to help needy orphans he could just put the money right in my pocket, but hey…"
Bruce laughs, a little startled. "You don't exactly look needy, Jason."
"Well," Jason says, grinning. "That's 'cause I'm a professional. You, Mr. Wayne, don't exactly look like the type who needs to hire out high-class hookers."
Bruce clears his throat. "Escort," he corrects. "And call me Bruce."
"Sure," Jason says, his grin turning sharper. "Whatever you want, Bruce." The words go right to Bruce's dick, and it's like Jason senses it, because in a moment he's slipping off his seat and getting between Bruce's legs.
"Some of my other clients," Jason says, "like to do this before the evening starts. Helps them relax a little, you know. Plus," he adds, cupping Bruce through his trousers, "I think some of 'em get off on walking into some fancy place smelling like sex."
"And do you?" Bruce asks, and Jason licks his lips. "With you?" he asks. "Jesus, yeah. Not every day you get to play arm candy to Bruce Wayne."
"Hn," Bruce says, and Jason unzips Bruce's trousers and gets his hand around his dick. "Fuck, man," Jason says. "That why you have to bring in professionals? 'Cause no one else's gag reflex is up for this?"
Bruce smirks, cups Jason's face in his hand and says, "Don't know. Show me what you've got."
What Jason has is a mouth like Bruce can't even believe. He comes like he hasn't since he was a teenager, fast and hard and hitting his head on the backseat, and Jason swallows every drop, licks his lips and tucks Bruce back into his trousers before getting on the seat next to him.
"That was," Bruce starts, at a loss for words.
Jason shrugs. "I usually like it a little messier, myself, but there's showing up smelling like sex and there's showing up with come on your pants, so…"
"Jesus," Bruce says. He drags Jason in and kisses him, licks the taste of himself out of Jason's mouth. Jason's hard against his thigh, but when Bruce pulls back they're arrived at their destination, and it's time for both of them to be perfectly charming.
And Jason is perfectly charming; he knows more about art than Bruce could ever hope to, knows half the artists by first name, and Bruce is so happy to have someone on his arm who isn't a total idiot that he risks spoiling it by dragging Jason into a bathroom stall and fucking him senseless.
"How," Bruce says at the end of the night, when they're back in the car and Jason's sitting in his lap, letting Bruce kiss all along the back of the night. "Do I have you exclusively?"
Jason laughs, grinds against Bruce through their clothes. "You asking me to be your kept boy, Mr. Wayne?"
"Yes," Bruce says, dragging his fingers under Jason's shirt. "Something like that."
Jason takes a sharp breath, and Bruce is sure it's not the first time this has been offered to him, but maybe - "Take me out again," he says. "Then we'll talk."
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Date: 2015-08-30 04:15 am (UTC)"So where are we going?" Jason asks when he gets in the car and sits down across from Bruce. He's well-dressed, expensive suit and tie and even more expensive shoes, his hair just the right side of tousled like someone just got done putting their hands in it.
"There's an art show downtown. Proceeds go to a local orphanage," Bruce says. Jason helps himself to a drink from the mini fridge, licks the soda from his lips. "I think one of my friends contributed some pieces for that. I told him if he wanted to help needy orphans he could just put the money right in my pocket, but hey…"
Bruce laughs, a little startled. "You don't exactly look needy, Jason."
"Well," Jason says, grinning. "That's 'cause I'm a professional. You, Mr. Wayne, don't exactly look like the type who needs to hire out high-class hookers."
Bruce clears his throat. "Escort," he corrects. "And call me Bruce."
"Sure," Jason says, his grin turning sharper. "Whatever you want, Bruce." The words go right to Bruce's dick, and it's like Jason senses it, because in a moment he's slipping off his seat and getting between Bruce's legs.
"Some of my other clients," Jason says, "like to do this before the evening starts. Helps them relax a little, you know. Plus," he adds, cupping Bruce through his trousers, "I think some of 'em get off on walking into some fancy place smelling like sex."
"And do you?" Bruce asks, and Jason licks his lips. "With you?" he asks. "Jesus, yeah. Not every day you get to play arm candy to Bruce Wayne."
"Hn," Bruce says, and Jason unzips Bruce's trousers and gets his hand around his dick. "Fuck, man," Jason says. "That why you have to bring in professionals? 'Cause no one else's gag reflex is up for this?"
Bruce smirks, cups Jason's face in his hand and says, "Don't know. Show me what you've got."
What Jason has is a mouth like Bruce can't even believe. He comes like he hasn't since he was a teenager, fast and hard and hitting his head on the backseat, and Jason swallows every drop, licks his lips and tucks Bruce back into his trousers before getting on the seat next to him.
"That was," Bruce starts, at a loss for words.
Jason shrugs. "I usually like it a little messier, myself, but there's showing up smelling like sex and there's showing up with come on your pants, so…"
"Jesus," Bruce says. He drags Jason in and kisses him, licks the taste of himself out of Jason's mouth. Jason's hard against his thigh, but when Bruce pulls back they're arrived at their destination, and it's time for both of them to be perfectly charming.
And Jason is perfectly charming; he knows more about art than Bruce could ever hope to, knows half the artists by first name, and Bruce is so happy to have someone on his arm who isn't a total idiot that he risks spoiling it by dragging Jason into a bathroom stall and fucking him senseless.
"How," Bruce says at the end of the night, when they're back in the car and Jason's sitting in his lap, letting Bruce kiss all along the back of the night. "Do I have you exclusively?"
Jason laughs, grinds against Bruce through their clothes. "You asking me to be your kept boy, Mr. Wayne?"
"Yes," Bruce says, dragging his fingers under Jason's shirt. "Something like that."
Jason takes a sharp breath, and Bruce is sure it's not the first time this has been offered to him, but maybe - "Take me out again," he says. "Then we'll talk."