Sterling

A place where I can post my fics Minors DNI 23 He/They My Ao3 is Sterling_Storm Fic Requests Open

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Hello!!! I'm so sorry for my two month disappearance! I got Ao3 author cursed hard, almost broke my ribs, got hit with illness after illness, and then things picked up hard with my masters so I've unfortunately have been very busy!

But! I'm trying very hard to finish some fics and requests within the next few weeks, so you should be hearing from me soon!!!

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In MY OPINION, Iron Lung did an amazing job as a psychological and suspense horror, on top of the cosmic, eldritch and sci-if elements (and body horror).

The biggest complaints I saw were about pacing, which when I watched it in theatre I felt, but it really needed that to make everything hit hard. The slowness and suspense made me feel too secure in what was happening, and yet so on edge, that when the twists occurred, I truly felt sick and shocked. When we go to the end and I checked my watch, I felt like both so much little and so much time passed, it messed with me. And good psychological horror does that, not only effecting the characters but also the audience. I feel like modern horror has been spoiled with too many jump scares and constant gore, that we’ve lost patience for the slow burn.

Personally, my biggest complaints were the sound mixing, which was mostly a me thing, cause I have issues processing words, especially with distortion, and a few of the flashback scenes, but overall those were just minor things compared to the overall plot and design of the film.

Mark did an amazing job for his first film, and I think that he’s gonna do great things from here.

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Roy "Knows How to Throw It Back Extremely Well" Harper and Jason "Straight As A Pole While Being Danced On" Todd

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You ever do commissions or requests lmk

You can guess what I'll ask for

Lol, I absolutely can <3

My requests are always open (as of now), but the fics I write off them will be much shorter than my usual fanfictions (unless an idea really tickles my brain).

As for commissions, I've dabbled with the idea before, and might open them come summer time when I'm not in school and am not working, but I want to make sure that if I do them, that prices are fair for both me and anyone who comissions me. Fanfiction is my passion and I'd hate to overcharge people for doing something I truly just love doing <3

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Congratulations you have activated my monkey brain on Jayroy

Your ideas have enthralled me

I hope to see more of scent kink Jayroy in future fics

I can def see Jason being a little shit riling up Roy

Lmao, I live to serve, and love getting others to have the Jay roar worms.

And I’d definitely like to write more! Even just as like an add on thing. I love incorporating the senses into how I write about sex and would love to dabble in more scent kink based stuff on top of other kinks. Come summertime I know I'll be sweat brained lmao

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You caught my attention with "Jason pinning Roy under his armpit while wrestling"

Would you ever be willing to expand on that?

Jayroy pit kink is underrated

Thank you so much for asking so I can rant about kinky jayroy lol

MDNI - 18+ - kink discussion, do not interact if y'all don't like this

I think that in regards to how I view their relationship, it starts out as less than a pit kink specifically on Roy's end and more so a musk/scent kink with him. Like any place of the body that gathers a sort of B.O. scent, he is interested in.

But also the way that I view him is very "I will try anything once", so I could see him easily developing it as a kink through that kind of exploration, and getting real freaky with it. Like full on licking the sweat from Jason's body post workout, burying his face in there at any given moment. To me, Roy sensory seeks as a way to connect with his partners rather than asking anything of them sexually. He gets off more on how their body feels moving against him or what noises they’re making, so things like how they smell would do a lot for him (This is also why I see him as a pleasure dom). Plus, Jay’s tolerance to play along with something that turns him on would deepen that attraction.

On Jason’s end, I think he wants to do anything that would make Roy happy within his boundaries, which would lead to him essentially hamming it up for Roy's sake. Sexuality does not come easily to him in my mind, but he likes the idea of doing things outside of sex that turn Roy on, which I think would translate easily to them dabbling in kink, since it kind of bridges that gap of "not overtly sex, yet still deepens sexual attraction." So, if there are things he can do that he knows will get Roy going, he's gonna tease him with them. Like, wearing those tops where pits are more easily accessible, or spending a hot day together without any deodorant cause he knows it'll turn Roy on.

And obvious, they're big vigilantes that run around and get sweaty all the time, and Jason is a asshole middle child, who would definitely start wrestling with Roy when they're both slick with sweat, 1. for his own amusement, and 2. because he knows it'll get Roy going like crazy. And obviously, the most immature man thing to do is to shove his boyfriend's face in his pits. The first time he does it is 100% as a way to tease Roy and maybe get him to blush or something, only for his boyfriend to immediately surrender, going limp against him, maybe even grabbing him to push his face further into it. Like they're playing a game of who can out freak the other and Roy is always trying to get out on top. Plus, with it being one of the few things that Jason takes dominance on, I feel like it would drive Roy insane.

From there I think it just kinda becomes a thing (tm), where Jason will sometimes have to put up with Roy play fighting when he tries to put his face in his pit, and sometimes has him diving in head first to breath him in. Jason is also definitely pressing Roy against walls and shoving his face in there, or laying back on the couch arms tucked behind his head, just waiting to feel a nose or tongue suddenly tracing his armpit. And even though I view Jason as being more comfortable as a sub and bottom, I think it would be hot for him to have Roy bouncing on him with his face cradled against his pit.

In short, they're kinky freaks that I love. I really need to expand the kink side of their relationship when I write for them.

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WOO WOO WOO WOO BIG BOD ROY

Yes!!! Big Bod Roy!!! The fic is finally done, and y'all can read it here on tumblr, and here on Ao3

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Sweet Bod

Jason Todd x Roy Harper

NSFW-18 and over -MDNI

Words: 17.6k

Tags: smut, weight gain, blowjob, grinding, hand job (full tags on Ao3)

Notes: Am I super late, yes, is this a holiday smut about Roy Harper gaining weight and Jason Todd being a horny bastard about it? Also yes. Dad bod Roy Harper lovers rise. I spoke about him having a tummy too much and got too horny about it, you can find me wearing a "I Love Fat Men" shirt most days of the week. Anyways, this is just a little holiday esk smut featuring them cause I wanted to put a nicer spin on holiday weight gain stuff (and it's so fucking late lmao). CW, there are brief mentions of Roy's addiction (mostly to talk about his metabolism changes), as well as conversations surrounding poor body image issues and dieting, and Jason's food insecurity growing up so just be warned of that. (read it here on Ao3)

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Jason was going to die before the New Year came.

And no, it wasn't because the holiday season was always harder for the bats, putting strain on all their relationships with one another. Even though they all tried to be civil, key word being tried, sometimes it was just hard to keep a cheery attitude around each other dealing with the one two punch of holiday stress and family related trauma.

Or because he was driving himself crazy putting all his efforts into making sure his turf was as well taken care of as possible during the winter months. Food pantry stocked, warm clothes and beds readily available, easily accessible gifts for all the youngings in the narrows. It was a labor of love, emphasis labor, but he was always determined to make sure it was all perfect.

Hell, it wasn't even having to deal with the snow of Gotham and trying not to bust his ass while getting tangled with rogues on icy rooftops. He's surprised nobody had started accusing him of stealing Penguin's whole shtick yet with how many times he'd skidded passed goons on his ass.

No, it wasn't any of that. It was his stupid boyfriend and his stupid body that ran too hot.

Usually in the colder months people in Gotham would bundle themselves up to fight off the cold. Due to old buildings, poor insulation, and heating that had a 50% chance of working being staples of the city, these problems usually manifested themselves into people keeping themselves in thick, baggy clothing while inside. Adorned with heavy layers, buried under blankets, body's took on ambiguous shapes, indistinguishable from one another, unsure of what was clothing and what was person. It was a tradition of sorts during Gotham's winter, almost a set of rules people adhered to. You either fight off the cold, or become a mourning statistic come springtime. Everyone knew this, and conformed accordingly.

Well, everyone, except Roy fucking Harper.

It didn't make any sense. The man had spent most of his life in fucking California, he hadn't seen snow since he was a child. And yet, the fucker would be walking around their apartment in his tightly fit wife pleasers', complaining that he wished he could go shirtless if it wasn't for Lian (He always had a thing of wanting to look presentable in front of her.) While everyone else would be walking around their complex in heavy corduroys and fleece lined crew necks, there was his fucking boyfriend, in gym shorts and sleeveless band tees, getting their mail with nary the sight of a chill running up his spine.

And it was fine, really. Jason was all for self expression and he liked the outfits Roy wore. Really liked them, like really really really…he liked them, ok. The man wasn't fashionable by any sense of the word, but Jason always appreciated the fact that it was Roy wearing his bad outfit combinations (especially the amount of skin he'd show). The man could honestly come out in a potato sack and he'd still be there to make goo goo eyes at him. So it wasn't the clothes that was the problem. No, the true issue was Jay trying to contain the absolute hunger he had for his beloved parading himself around like some common floozy, especially recently.

As the end of the year trickled by, it seemed that holidays were happening every fort night. Well, holidays and major events in the couple's lives. Lian going back to school coinciding with the beginning of the cooler seasons, resulting in an uptick of Jason cooking for their little family without having to worry about raising the apartment's heat by too much, and keeping lots of snacks stocked for her lunches. Then there was Halloween, where the couple would always overbuy candy bars for their apartment just in case some of their neighbors' kids brought friends (and to stop them from stealing from Lian's stash). Roy's birthday would fall right after, which meant that he'd follow his food coma with another, absolutely spoiling himself with the one indulgence he could still participate in, food. (Well that…and whatever his boyfriend would have planned for their evening after their daughter would make it to the babysitters). That would then be followed by Dick's Birthday, where the original boy wonder would always pester both Alfred and Jason to make him whatever his heart desired, and neither had the heart to say no (which meant a lot of recipe prototypes being up for grabs while Jay perfected them). Then there was Thanksgiving, which meant there were lots of left overs from various sources, especially when the Harper household would host for the Outlaws or Titans friendsgivings. And of course, by the time December rolled around, (and seasonal depression made itself comfortable in both men's minds), the house would have an ever rotating stock of Christmas and New Years treats.

Truly, from September to December was a time to indulge.

But because of this, and Roy having taken a step back from vigilantism due to his prioritization of fatherhood (not quite retiring, more so a leave of absence unless the city was falling apart), the redhead had gained a bit of weight. It wasn't something concerning, or something that he cared about or was putting effort into changing, it just…was. Roy's edges had softened with lush plumpness, his body filled out into a gentle form, with slopes instead of angles. And honestly, he was pretty indifferent to it. He'd complain that his jeans wouldn't buckle or zip or cut into his tummy uncomfortably, and then would throw on sweats or slacks and call it a day. Master of the nonchalant.

And he was secretly proud of himself for the change. When he'd first gotten sober all those years ago, and had started to turn his life around, he ended up putting on a lot of weight fast. It was just something that came with the lifestyle changes. With how one's metabolism shifts post drug use, and gaining access to a better, more consistent diet, his body changed. He went from a medium fitting loosely on him to a large stretching against his skin within a few months.

During that time, he was deeply insecure and upset with himself because of it, which manifested in some unhealthy habits. Constantly at the gym, making diet plans with drastic calorie cuts, forcing himself in a vicious cycle of restricting and a "calories in, calories out" mindset. And yet, the number on the scale kept going up. He'd stare at his body in the mirror, disgusted with the red, angry stretch marks and new found rolls where washboard abs were in his youth. See where the sharp cut of his V line was now a divot in his skin. And while he was no longer the same sickly pale, and couldn't easily count his ribs or vertebrae anymore, it still felt like a failure in a sense, to take up so much space.

Looking back now, he understood what was actually happening was him becoming a normal size for someone his age who has a normal, consistent diet, while also putting on muscle weight due to his commitment to hero work. That wiry muscled kid he was as a young adult became a memory, only seen in pictures and in Roy's nightmares. Over time, with a less rigid routine, and the building of better habits, (and a better sense of self), he had evened out to something nice and sturdy, with thick arms and a respectable muscular build that worked for both his hero and mechanic work (and was perfect for picking up the most beautiful little girl in the world) (and the most perfect man).

But even with that change, the fat redistributing and being formed into firm muscle, there would be times that due to his older age and history of messed up metabolism, that when taking rest and indulging himself, he'd pack on a few pounds. He'd grown very "whatever" about it, knowing his body would just even back out with a short lived cut and getting himself moving again.

But…well

Jason was anything but "whatever" about it.

He didn't like talking about it, finding it oh so embarrassing to say out loud, but he was …excited around this time of year, when thick Roy would make an appearance. That's not to say he wasn't crazy about the man every day, c'mon now. No, there was just something so nice about when he'd let go a bit. It was so uncouth and perverted of him, but he couldn't help the rush that took over when his boyfriend would look a bit more husky post holidays.

He didn't like to think about it, didn't like the thrill that ran through him when he realized how he'd changed, didn't like how he'd immediately get defensive when Roy would talk about his changed body in a negative way, didn't like how he'd stare at the soft pouch of a belly or the way his chin would lose its sharp angle and bleed into a soft slope. It honestly embarrassed him how affected he'd be by his lover's weight gain.

There was probably some subconscious reasoning for it, deep psychological explanations that loomed beneath the surface of his brain as to why he had the hots so aggressively for Roy Harper with some chub on him. The easiest he could come up with was the fact that for his boyfriend to have gained that weight, he must've been in a safe place where he could relax and spoil himself with good food. Knowing what he'd been through, what a tough life he had led, Jason felt some type of way about the man now being able to just, relax. To be a father, without stress. To hold down a job. To not have to worry about the next mission. That he got to spend his evening on the couch, watching TV, eating candy from the trick or treater bowl. That he'd earned the dad bod from how he'd snore on a recliner in the living room at the drop of a hat.

The other reasoning was a bit heavier, a bit more "trauma informed". It felt harder to address, and would prickle at the back of his mind. Jason also knew that for Roy to have gained that weight, he must've had a steady and reliable access to food. And that gutted him a bit to think about. Growing up how he did, impoverished and desperate, so deeply hungry in every sense of the word, has life long lasting effects. On some days, being so caught up in everything, not eating and feeling that empty gnaw in his stomach would send him into the worst flashbacks. Memories of nights spent curled in on himself strewn upon a dirty mattress to alleviate the pain. Thoughts of drinking cool water on an empty stomach and feeling the way it would twist and pool deep in his guts, uncomfortable and known. It was hell, pure hell he didn't want to relive, ever.

So, knowing that Roy, and Lian as well, weren't going through that, that they felt loved and were fed enough to gain some comfort weight, brought him joy. It settled something inside him, something always searching, made it curl up nicely and rest its head, no longer on guard.

And maybe, maybe, through years of healing, or years of being jacked up by more trauma, with so many different wires being crossed so many different ways, it turned into something a bit psychosexual. 

I mean, come on, having a gorgeous man in your bed, so comfortable in your presence, so nourished by your provisions, so addicted to your cooking, that he got fat off of it? So into you and what you could do, his body physically changed? It was hot as hell.

He thought he hid his infatuation well, honestly he did. He was the Red Hood, a former crime boss, trained by the big bad Batman himself. He was able to keep a poker face. But, when Roy was strutting around with his skin on show, belly poking out from under his shirts or peaking over the waist band of his pants, it was hard to keep his eyes off of it. The soft pouch made him yearn for a future with Roy years from now, both retired for good, with the man finally abandoning the "muscle" in muscle bear and becoming the animal he was meant to be, plush and hairy all over. Internally drooling over the thought of waking up wrapped in his love's arms, with warm squish behind him, and having his face buried in it at the end of every night.

He's sure that Roy had started to catch on, absolutely positive, with the little smirks he's given him, and the raised eyebrows when he'd realize he wasn't paying attention to what he'd said because he was staring at his stomach or thighs. The man always did have an innate ability to just know when Jason was thirsting for him. It was like his secret super power,sensing when Jay would be looking at him with lustful intentions, always knowing when he'd be needed in a more impassioned way (he'd been tested for meta abilities before, but Jason was doubting the results.). So, he was certain that those looks his boyfriend was giving him were signs of his awareness of what Jay was after.

Roy, however, was not catching onto that, per say.

Now, it was true that in the past, he'd noticed how Jason would become more…reactive to his body this time of year (Or really, he'd become more interested whenever he'd put weight on.). How they'd suddenly have an uptick in their flirtations, how Jay would randomly be grabbing on him and more openly sexualizing his body. How he'd want to suddenly take the lead in body worshiping him and start sinking his teeth into the meaty parts of Roy. And honestly, it was really fucking hot, knowing that his boyfriend was so into him. To catch his gaze when he was strutting around the house, to feel hands on him in their private moments. But this year…this year felt different.

The looks he was getting were sharper, stares that wouldn't break as easily. Jay wasn't just looking at him, he was taking him in, assessing him, not an inch left unturned. His gaze followed him like he was plotting, the same looks he'd give buildings when they were scoping out scenes, like he was prepping for something big. Even when Roy would catch him, giving him that signature grin, or a raised brow, or a wink, he barely seemed deterred. His cheeks would redden, and then he would get this little smile on his face, like he was lost in dream land. While it was flattering, that his boyfriend was so unbelievably into him and his body, it was starting to become a little unnerving.

He didn't like the fact he was feeling uneasy around his Jaybird. He loved this man, and knew that whatever was going on in that little head of his was going to be something he'd at least be amused by, and at best would absolutely adore. But the stares, the eyes constantly on him, made the hairs on the back of his neck stick up, and he didn't know why.

Maybe it was because he'd reached an all time high weight wise (He thinks. They didn't have a scale in the apartment because Roy was adamant about not messing his daughter's mind up as much as possible, so he was going off of how tight his clothes were getting.). Or part of it could've been because Jay just wasn't initiating anything, which could mean anything from him dealing with his own internal demons, to him having a downswing in his libido. Which was fine, don't get Roy wrong, the man was always welcome to choose whenever he'd want to be active or not to no fault of himself. Roy had gotten used to that very early on in their relationship, he called the shots, the red head met him where he was. But…still. He was feeling like a character in an Edgar Allan Poe story, constantly on edge, waiting for the shoe to drop. But it just…wouldn't. When he had been bracing for a tidal wave of groping and gnawing and only got the sprinkle of being winked at and having his ass grabbed in passing, it was kinda messing with his self image. Had he…had he surpassed Jason's threshold? Were these stares of judgment? (That thought was immediately ridiculous the moment his mind conjured it, but the rush of the holidays was making it a bit hard to rationalize things properly.)

It was like the two were in a game of gay chicken, a cat and mouse of who was going to break first. Both were too proud to bring it up themselves, Jay afraid to finally voice his silent interest he's had for years that had just been an agreed upon thing, never spoken about. While Roy, he was afraid he'd finally met the limit of what his lover was able to handle, scared to express that and have Jay shut down on him if he was wrong. It would be hard for anyone not involved to witness, and the tension finally snapped during the week following Christmas.

The apartment had become an uncharacteristically quiet space following the madness of the holidays, stuck in a twilight zone of time not quite feeling real. Every member had grown sedentary, taking no interest in anything besides rest and relaxation, eating an inordinate amount of left overs, and getting to just bask in a time of peace. Even Lian, the little firecracker of energy she was, had been, for the most part, calm, mostly staying in her room, playing with her gifts. It was nice, homey, and reminded Jason of those long spent days in the manor, watching holiday reruns and gorging himself on Alfred's hot cocoa (That thought made his chest tight and throat swell with nostalgia. He'd have to make room for a visit before the New Year).

On this particular day, the youngest member of the Harper-Todd household was off doing god knows what with the eldest Wayne (Something about wanting to show Damian the joys of winter activities, and that Dick needed someone to "set an example".), leaving the house even quieter than it had been the past few days. It did take away the stress of having to parent, but also made things feel a little duller (Neither were ready for the teenage years, or god forbid, when they'd be empty nesters.)

Jason was tucked alone at the dining room table, writing down the shopping list for the week. Planning meals, figuring out what they'd need to bring for New Years. Alfred deserved a break from having to take on all the prep. While he was up to that, Roy was seemingly napping in their bedroom, some of his louder snorts of snoring finding their way to the living room area. It was warm and cozy in a way Jay couldn't put words to, familiar and sugary sweet. He would be happy to spend the rest of the afternoon in this state, maybe even join his lover beneath the warm sheets for a rest.

But, of course, the red head had to ruin it with his stupidly hot body.

Jason heard the loud yawn and the heavy thud of bare feet on hardwood before he saw where they originated from (another issue he took for different reasons, seeing his boyfriends bare feet on the floor always made him cringe, and his reluctance to put on slippers despite the multiple pairs he'd been bought definitely ticked him off…anyways.). Focused heavily on the task he'd been doing, he didn't immediately look up to see what was in front of him, busy figuring out what cuts of beef he'd want to get for the week, and what sauce he'd want to make for the egg rolls he was going to bring for New Years, important stuff. But when Roy stopped right in front of the table, leaning back to stretch and yawn in that obnoxiously loud dad way that always drove him up the wall with a mixture of annoyance and endearment, his attention was essentially demanded. And fuck, was he happy he looked up.

The man before him, his man before him, looked stunning in the most domestic way possible. Plaid pajama pants hung low on his hips, the pudge of his stomach peaking out just over the waist. Thick arms on full display, his tattoos shining with the slightest sheen of sweat through the thick, unkept red body hair. Torso framed by a self made armless band tee, hugging him in all the right places, making his pecs look huge. His face was rosy in a way that made him look adorable, eyes drooping with the remnants of sleep he hadn't quite rubbed off. And god his hair, in that low ponytail he sported while sleeping so it wouldn't get in the way (The same way he'd tie it up when he'd do his job as a giver.) As he lowered his arms, finishing his grand display, he spoke in that fried, hoarse voice.

"Did you turn up the heat? The bedroom feels like a sauna." He mumbled.

Yeah, Jason was about to loose it. This man looked absolutely irresistible. And the little tired smirk he wore made it seem like he knew it.

Now, one would obviously ask, did Roy orchestrate this intentionally? And the answer to that would be partly yes, partly no. He had just woken up in the outfit, disheveled from his nap, and feeling oh so warm due to the aforementioned heating, that part was true. What was a bit of mastermind work on his part was seeing himself in that state, realizing the situation they were in with a child free apartment, and deciding accordingly that perhaps it would be a good idea to go and see what his boyfriend was up to. The man had always been a sucker for the "just rolled outta bed" look (or maybe he was just really into Roy in any state…that was still undetermined.)

And perhaps this was a bit of a test for him. Even though the insecurity his mind had been toying with had for the most part been dismissed by little things Jason had done (placing his hand on his tummy when cuddling or kissing, the slight increase in those private moments of groping, the way he'd gape openly at him when getting dressed.), he still wanted that confirmation that Jason found him hot like this. If he could just know what was going on, why there was hesitation, if this was Jason having an interest without the pull of desire, or if something else was going on, it would bring ease to his mind.

And from the blush rising on his lover's cheeks, he was sure that there had most likely been a misunderstanding with his cruel thoughts.

Roy was being stared at in pure awe, with everything besides a jaw hanging on the floor. Jason was trying so hard to find words, to say anything other than just staring at this beauty of a man, looking so lax in his demeanor, to the height of his comfort. It stroked that beast inside him, scratched behind its ear, found its sweet spot. It made his brain go haywire with how pleased he was, knowing Roy was comfortable and happy. Those fucking crossed wires lighting up like their Christmas tree in the living room. And god dammit, he must've known what he was doing, must've known how fucking hot he looked even in this state.

Roy watched as the man swallowed, taking him in fully. As no words found their way to his lips, he finally made the decision. He would have to light this powder keg, and suffer the consequences if he was wrong. His eyes trailed down to the table, seeing what he had been up to. Without letting his boyfriend fully process, without letting him speak, he placed his hands firmly on the table, leaning in close to him, with puckered lips.

"So hard at work to keep this ship sailing, my sweet boy, gimme a kiss."

He mumbled, voice low and gruff and seductive.

"God dammit, Harper."

The damn holding in all of Jason's desire broke then and there.

He didn't take the offer of a sweet peck on the lips. Oh no. He stood up abruptly, pushing through the head rush that put stars in his eyes and practically pounced on Roy. Large, calloused hands cupped the red head face, pulling him in for a harsh kiss. It wasn't vicious or rough, just impassioned, filled with emotions that had long been held back. Both men exhaled into the kiss, melting into each other immediately as they finally got what they'd both been craving. It was a release of pressure, a valve being opened to let the ever growing steam out. The simplest action finally taking the squeeze of their worries away.

Roy felt the way that Jason's hands stroked his jawline, and the way he furthered himself into the kiss, pressing himself against him with a clear need for contact. Tongues now slotted against each other in a languid make out, furthering the connection. His thumb trailed the softened edge, running over the overgrown stubble in reverence. This wasn't the tender move he thought it was at first, no, it was exploration. It was a perverse fascination being fulfilled, getting to be up close and personal with something he'd been studying for weeks. With having such intimate knowledge regarding his lover and his touch, he could sense the hesitation, the worry. That wouldn't do, wouldn't do at all.

Without much though, he reached up blindly for his love's right hand, intertwining his fingers in the gaps. Plucking it from its perch on his face, he carefully dragged it down, feeling the way Jay’s brows knit together against his own forehead. Through the dark of shut eyes, he felt the fingers make contact with his skin, and directed them slowly to a place of purchase. Instead of jumping in head first and immediately placing his palm flat on his stomach, he brought the hand to his pec, flattening it out to encourage his exploration. It gave them both plausible deniability, like rather than toying with the idea of sexualizing his changed body, he was simply seeking out some nipple stimulation, or wanted his pecs touched up on. It also would let Jay indulge without having to reveal too much of himself. Everything done in silence, in the blindness of shut eyes.

For a brief moment, Jason felt overwhelmed with the feeling of being so understood, of being so known.

He breathed shakily against Roy's lips, heating with a flush that trailed down his chest and maybe even made his tummy pink. Without pulling away, he immediately started flexing his fingers in a restrained hold, groping the thickened flesh with curious appreciation. Jesus, they'd gotten bigger. It was a proper handful now, taking up so much of Jay's big palms. And fuck, if that didn't go directly to his dick. His breath stuttered against his boyfriend's lips again, and he felt even more of his resolve crumble.

Slowly, keeping his hand exactly where it was, he pulled back from Roy's lips, the trail of spit between them stretching with the distance before swinging back against the archer's chin. Jay ignored it, choosing instead to look deep into his love's eyes. Locked on each other, both silently gauging the situation, Jason decided to test his luck a bit. Hand still against Roy's pec, his index and thumb trailed inwards toward each other, closing in around his nipple through his top. Grabbing the nub in a tight hold, he pinched down on the bundle of nerves, watching how his boyfriend's breath hitched and eyes grew wide before they softened, a low groan and swear passing his lips. As the pressure persisted, he hissed, eyes looking to Jason in desperation. For what? Neither were sure. Definitely not for him to stop. After a few beats, Jason released the hold, smoothing over the warm skin to soothe it, watching how his boyfriend bit softly into his lip, trying not to moan at the action. It felt so raw and foreign but…good. Really good.

There was definitely some talking to do, definitely things that needed to be said before they engaged. But, a living room wasn't the best spot for that.

"Bedroom?"

Jason asked, palm still soothing the skin. Roy nodded immediately, almost giddy.

"Bedroom."

They started moving instantly, breaking contact to rush away to the hidden, private space. There was laughter in the air as they walked, a giddiness that filled them. When they reached the room, Roy was quick to grab Jason by the waist, spinning him around to face him. The sharpness of the movement almost gave his boyfriend whiplash, but he was quickly soothed by lips finding his skin. Kisses on his mouth, his cheek, his jaw, down his neck, all while the archer skillfully guided them to the bed, helping his lover to ease onto the sheets.

They let the connection trail on for a few minutes, pressing their lips to hot skin, following trails down each other's upper body until time stretched in a way that made the unaddressed tension weigh down on them. Jason felt those prickles under his skin at the base of his neck, and knew that if this went unaddressed any longer, he was going to snap. Breathing in Roy's heat one last time, laying one last kiss to his lips, he pulled back, sitting up and looking at his boyfriend with a softened gaze, cupping his face tenderly.

The red head felt the shift, and smiled back to him reassuringly, holding his hand against his face with intertwined fingers, turning to kiss his boyfriend's palm.

"So, I guess you've caught onto some…stuff that's been going on."

Jason breathed, trying to swallow down the ever growing lump in his throat. Roy nodded, keeping his hand on Jay's.

"I have." He confirmed. "I didn't want to press or anything in case it was a bit sensitive, but…it's been hard to not address the elephant in the room."

He chuckled, slowly dropping their locked fingers on the bed, his boyfriend breathing out a sigh.

"Yeah."

Jay trailed, looking off to the opposite wall of the bedroom. His boyfriend ran his thumb over his knuckles, keeping a kind expression on his face.

"Hey, you can tell me what's up. This is a judgment free zone, and not in a 'you're actually secretly in trouble' way." He teased, placing a hand under his jaw so they could hold eye contact once more. Beautiful pools of green met each other, like two Monet painting face to face, explosions of vibrant verdant tones. "What's been going on, Jaybird?"

And god, that nickname still made him weak, scrambling his brain in just the right ways. Jason took a deep breath, his hand slipping out of Roy's grip as he scrubbed his eyes in frustration. How to put words to this? How to explain what had been going on? It felt insurmountable, and so goddamned embarrassing. He mulled over how to go about it, what words to say in what order. Once he settled on the first few, he returned his hand to its rightful spot, holding Roy's.

"So, there's kinda this thing that I notice around this time of year. Or well, I notice it whenever it happens to you, but like, it's more common this time of year."

He started to explain, keeping his eyes down on the mattress. It was always easier for him to talk that way, without the pressure of seeing his lover's face, seeing how he'd react. He spared a glance up, though, to see Roy smiling encouragingly at him, taking that as his queue to continue.

"You…you gain weight around the holidays, I've noticed. And I don't want you to think that's a bad thing, like at all. I actually find it really hot. Not you gaining weight, but like, what the weight represents?"

He kept his eyes down as he explained, touching on everything from his childhood, to knowing what it meant for Roy to gain back weight and muscle mass after everything, how he knew how bone thin his mother became, and how it would've been nice to see that change in her. He touched on how he didn't want to look at the change in a fetishistic light, but that he just couldn't help but find Roy, his Roy, so beautiful and handsome in this state of comfort and support. And that it was him that had him like that. Him that got to see his boyfriend in this state. Him that got to be the one that domesticated Roy Harper, that kept him home and made sure he had the best meals. The one that washed his work clothes and argued with him over what carpet looks best in their living room. The one that he shared a bed with, and will relish him grinding his hard cock against (or inside) him, and gets to hear his praises of how pretty he is beneath him. And to see the physical manifestation of that? It was the hottest thing Jason could imagine.

Roy listened patiently, nodding along to his words, that soft, content expression never leaving his lips. Once he knew that Jay was done with his mini rant, he continued to hold his hand, smiling those crooked teeth at him.

"Well, you've sure been carrying a lot." He smiled, running a hand over Jason's. "Jaybird, while I appreciate the caution surrounding the topic, I need you to know that your interest doesn't bother me." He scooted closer, gently holding his boyfriend's face. "In fact, I'm glad that you find me hot like this. I love how fucking feral you get about me when I pack a few pounds on."

He chuckled. Jason's eyes expanded, like he couldn't believe what his love was saying.

"Really?"

He asked, big eyes locked on Roy's. His boyfriend nodded.

"Really."

Jay sighed in relief, a small smile finding his face.

"I was worried you were going to get upset." He breathed through a chuckle. "Like I was getting off to an insecurity."

Roy chuckled along with him, shrugging.

"Nah, y'know I'm not like that." He sighed. "I honestly was just worried that you were avoiding me cause it was getting to be too much for you, like I was more than you'd be into with how hands off you've been."

He continued in a jokey tone. Jay's eyes darkened briefly, hand reaching out to hold Roy's.

"Never." His voice dripped in honesty. "You hear me, you never would be. I don't care what you look like. I'm going to think you're beautiful no matter what you look like, no matter what."

He almost growled. While something in the archer's eyes softened at the confirmation, a sleazy grin did find its way to his lips.

"You're hot when you're assertive, y'know that?"

Jay rolled his eyes, pushing him away as he laughed.

After a bit of giggling, their mouths found each other once more, kissing languidly as they finally basked in tension free connection. Roy had pulled his boyfriend over him, laying back against their pillows as they kissed (Jason had to pretend that having Roy easily drag him over his body so easily didn't make him light headed with want.). Jay's hands wandered on him appreciatively, not stopping in any particular place, but feeling along Roy's chest, his stomach, his arms, his thighs, fuck, his ass. It was all so hot, feeling soft skin that had firmness buried underneath it. His cock was throbbing with how quickly it was coming to mass. Roy himself was letting himself relax in the grip, feeling so content knowing his Jaybird was finally getting his fill. It was a bit odd, being the center of attention for once, not the one guiding the scene, but he wasn't going to complain.

Jason pulled away to pant against Roy's lips, nuzzling at his nose. The red head hummed, wrapping his arms around his lover.

"So this is what you've been thinking about? Getting to touch up on me?"

He breathed, smile ever present on his face. Jay blushed, looking up to Roy with big, blown out eyes. His lips were slick and already swollen, making his look hungry, desperate for something.

"Well, not exactly." He mumbled, focusing on his fingers trailing the man below him's chest. "I had this…idea."

Roy's interest was piqued instantly. It wasn't often his love shared certain fantasies of his, usually he'd be very open about what he'd want and what boundaries surrounded that, but when it was something trivial to him like a scenario he wanted to set up or a position he wanted to try, he'd freeze up. So for him to not only express something that turned him on, but also something he'd clearly been mulling over for a while (if the stares Roy had endured said anything about it), was a feat within itself. Keeping himself as chill as he could on the outside (like he was luring in a stray cat), Roy leaned in and nodded.

"You wanna tell me about this idea, baby?"

He asked in the sexy tired drawl, knowing it would drive Jason crazy. With a blush that went down under his shirt, he nodded.

"I was thinking…y'know how I don't really have a gag reflex?"

The question hung in the air for a moment, letting Roy adjust to the ringing in his ears as he processed it. He did know, knew very well how useful that particular skill was. It was always a beautiful sight to behold, when Jay would take the initiation to suck his cock. The archer wasn't usually one to request it, far more interested in making his boyfriend feel good than to allow himself the opportunity to lean back and enjoy. But sometimes, Jason would drop to his knees, or push him back on the bed, and easily take him to the hilt. Roy would melt at the memories, thinking about how his length would make such a pretty bulge in his boyfriend's throat.

Remembering he was asked a question, the red head nodded, silently urging his lover to continue.

"Well…" Jason started, fiddling with the bedspread. "I was thinking that you could, like, use that to your advantage?"

He asked. And while that did sound incredibly hot, Roy was a bit confused by the meaning.

"Whaddya mean, Jaybird?" He hummed, watching how Jay's face twisted up, knowing he was dreading having to actually say what he wanted. They'd still need to work on that. With a soft sigh, Roy held his hand tighter. "Baby, I wanna give you whatever you want, but you gotta tell me what it is so I can do that."

He soothed. His boyfriend's expression pinched in on itself, before he took a deep breath.

"I want you to fuck my throat." He rushed out quickly. "Or face, or, whatever the fuck people say, you know what I mean."

Oh, Roy definitely knew.

It sent a warm shock through his body, tingly nerves trailing down his spine until they buzzed through his cock with interest. It was such an enticing idea, such a pretty picture being painted in his mind. But, just because it sounded good in theory didn't guarantee how it would play out in reality.

"Are you sure it wouldn't be too much?"

He asked, trying not to seem too excited at the idea as he confirmed his love would be ok (But just like Roy, Jay definitely had the same sixth sense for knowing when he was turned on.). He didn't mean the question maliciously, simply knowing that in the past they'd had to stop scenes due to Jay metaphorically biting off more than he could chew. His boyfriend nodded softly, his expression still a bit shy, but slowly blooming into want the more he thought about it.

"Yeah. I'm sure. We can always stop if things get too overwhelming, right?"

Roy nodded instantaneously.

"Of course, Jaybird."

With that idea settled on, the two got back into the flow of things. Jay settled himself in against Roy's chest as they kissed, lips gliding against each other in debauched harmony due to intimate familiarity, tongues connecting in a smooth drag and teeth settling in on sensitive places. Roy kept a firm grip on Jason's back, wanting to keep him in place as they made out. Always wanting his Jaybird near him. He stroked down his strong side, appreciating his form, loving the way he'd gasp and sigh against his lips. He could never describe just how into it he got when he had sex with Jay. The way every touch and sound and taste and smell became all encompassing. How he couldn't pull himself away, how long and drawn out he'd let things get because he was so numb to the outside world when engaged with his boyfriend, never wanting the ever flowing amount of good to stop.

After some minutes passed, the two pulled back a bit to catch their breaths, panting against each other's lips once more. As usual, the archer tried to take the opportunity to pull his love's shirt off over his head, but was stopped in his tracks. Jason placed his palm on Roy's chest, not letting him move any more.

"Let me take the lead." He breathed, pressing needy kisses to his neck. "Please?"

And while the red head's instincts were itching to take control of the scene, to be the one on top of Jason and feeling up his body appreciatively and finding all his sweet spots to make them sing in delight, he forced himself to take a deep breath and nod. If this is what his Jaybird wanted, he'd let him have it. He could always reestablish himself later.

"Yeah, handsome." He breathed, tucking his hands under his head. "Have at it."

And it was worth it to see that little smile. He watched idly as his boyfriend gripped the bottom of his worn out band tee, looking up at him expectantly. With an amused sigh, Roy stuck his arms up, letting the article be disposed of off the side of the bed. When he looked back up at his lover, the man seemed enraptured with the sight.

Jay's eyes became impossibly blown out, pupils eating up his iris' as he stared down at his boyfriend's topless form. His gaze trailed the length of his torso, up to his arms back to where they were folded under his head, and then his face, blushing to see him looking up at him. It made Jason dizzy, seeing such an amazing sight, and knowing he was being watched as he enjoyed it.

Without forcing himself to think it over, a nasty habit he hadn't quite kicked yet, he reached out and started appreciating the skin, diving forward onto Roy. His hands first found his biceps, kissing along his face and jaw as his fingers worked over the muscles, smiling against his skin as Roy "involuntarily" flexed for him.

"Really?"

He mumbled into him, hearing and feeling the warmth of a chuckle against his ear.

"What? I have no idea what you're talking about handsome."

He ignored the obvious flex (literally) to get back to the man before him. His lips moved from the side of his face to the muscled appendage, dragging soft kisses against the firm swell.

"You're so hot." He mumbled before switching to the other arm, showering it in affection as well. "Sexy and strong. When I watch you out on the field I loose my fucking mind. You know how many shots you've made me miss cause I was staring at you and that damn bow?"

He punctuated the sentence by biting softly into the skin, not enough to break it, not even enough to mark, but clearly soothing some innate urge the man had been holding onto. Roy groaned softly, unoccupied arm finding Jay's back.

"S'not my fault your spank bank needed material."

He said, breath stuttering as Jason licked over the area he'd just bit. He could feel his love following the shallow groove of a scar, his skin marred with the odd one. And while his weren't the same spectacle of grief as Jay's (especially the one taking up the centre of his chest), his love always made sure they were loved on. All he got in return to his comment was a brief hum, before he was being littered with kisses again.

Jason followed the swell of his biceps down, finding his way to his boyfriend's exposed chest. The way he was laying had his pecs sitting so pretty on display for him, thick expanses that he could get a pretty good handful of. They were gorgeous. The nipple he had been rough on some minutes before still sat pert, red from the force used. He couldn't leave it on its lonesome.

Jay sat up a bit, bringing his hands to Roy's chest, and cupping each of them in his palms. His love sighed below him, arching up softly into the hold as he was toyed with.

"God, and these. I'm always copping flack for my 'tits', but you've got a nice pair yourself, hmm?"

He breathed, closing the gap between his pointer and middle finger around the nipple he hadn't touched yet. Roy gasped softly below him, smile stretching as his arch deepened.

"I did peg you as a fan of my naturals, Jaybird."

He chuckled, making Jason break character for a moment and laugh.

"Can you stop for like, 5 seconds? I'm trying to make a point here."

He giggled, still pulling idly at his chest. Fingers buried in thick red hair, tugging gently on his love's nipples. Roy gasped softly before nodding.

"Sorry, it's been a while since I've been the one on my back."

He sighed, voice cracking when Jay squeezed harder. It had been a while since he'd been in such a vulnerable position.

"I'll let it slide, handsome. But no more running your tight five by me until we're done."

Jason released his grip to thumb over the nipples once more, coming down to mouth at the pecs appreciatively, nipping at him with his sharp teeth, earning gasps and low moans. Roy could hear mumbles of "So fucking hot" and "So lucky you're mine" under his boyfriend's breath, making both his heart and cock swell with warm blood. So early on and he already felt pampered. And from what he was feeling poking into his thigh, he knew his love was just as into it as he was.

The gentle touches grew more fervent, little nips becoming harsh sucks of hickeys into his skin, Jason pinching his nipples in earnest now. It took so much of Roy to not thrash at the sudden sharp pleasure, moaning openly at the onslaught of warm sparkles traveling through his nerves to settle nicely in his pelvis. Realizing he had thrown his head back sometime during the ordeal, he forced himself to look back down at Jason, catching his sharp eyes fixated on him. It made a blush spread through Roy's cheeks, joining that on his chest, experiencing the duality of attraction and embarrassment he had been putting his lover through doing the same thing to him, watching how he'd react to such intense pleasure. (Obviously, it wouldn't stop him from doing it in the future.).

Content with the state he'd left his chest in, Jay moved lower down Roy's body. Trailing kisses down his sternum and dragging his lips across his diaphragm, he settled on what had been plaguing him for weeks, the object of his desires, if you will. Roy Harper's exposed stomach, distended softly from a few months worth of good food and rest, lay before him unobstructed. Just looking at it felt perverse to him, to feel such strong waves of lust looking at something people usually want to hide, he'd never more felt like a deviant.

"Fuck." The word left his lips laced with feeling. "You're so fucking hot, Harper."

For the first time that evening, he hesitated, hands twitching at his side as he looked down at his boyfriend's tummy, clearly deep in thought. It was clear what he wanted, but a moment of clarity seemed to have washed over him as he took the expanse of his abdomen in. And for Roy, the man most committed to Jason Todd's enjoyment of, well, everything, that wouldn't do.

Easily, he moved his hands from where he'd (pinned them) rested them under his head, and gently took hold of Jason's wrists. Ignoring the startled look on his lover's face, he guided his hands to the tender pouch, watching them comfortably sink into the warm layer of fat. Milky skin covered in freckles and body hair poked out from between the spaces his fingers made, the firm press of abs still existing, just under the new layer he'd donned.

"There." Roy hummed, looking up and smiling at his lover. "I meant it when I said 'have at it', I don't care what you do, I just want you to touch me."

Any argument Jason might've had died on his tongue at the explicit consent he was given, his mind melting as heady waves of arousal took over. The world seemed to dull even more, as he finally flexed his fingers, and gently squeezed the soft belly below his hands. His breath shuddered slightly, and he was instantly comforted by Roy stroking his side.

"You have no idea how happy you make me, Jaybird." Roy started, leaning up a bit to kiss at Jay's jaw. "How excited I get knowing I get to come home to you, that each night I get a meal cooked by you, that I get to sleep in the same bed as you. It's all so good because it's with you." He reached upwards, gently holding Jason's cheek, making him look him in the eye. "And I love that you love that too, that you love me too. All of me."

The moment, while clearly debauched and lewd due to their positions and the fact they were both sporting raging erections, filled Jason with a comforting warmth, his boyfriend's sweet words taking away the edge of his more undesirable emotions. It felt so them, to have such a gentle and loving moment in the middle of some freaky sex, always being off from what was considered the norm of "healthy" relationships. They wouldn't want it any other way.

"I love you too."

He mumbled, before leaning forward and melting into another kiss. Just a soft press of lips, not a mess of tongue and teeth but a moment of pure adoration between the two. Sentimental, almost.

But Jay's growing desire couldn't be ignored.

He sat back, pulling away from Roy to continue his trail, kissing down his boyfriend's body. He kissed along his stomach, following the line of his thick happy trail as he nosed the heated skin. Unable to stop himself, he left small love bites and hickeys in his wake, pressing his face into the pudge, even going as far as to lick along stripes of hair in pure lust for the body below him. All the while, his eyes, softened with a tender adoration, stayed locked on Roy, making sure he wasn't upset by any of it.

Obviously, he was not. In fact, he seemed desperately into it, fingers lacing in Jay's hair not to guide him or pull him back, but to keep his bangs out of the way, so he could see his full expression as he indulged in what he had so obviously been craving for weeks. Both sharing a realization of how perfect they were for each other (and how well they understood each other's hedonistic desires).

As Jay sank lower and lower towards the pushed down band of Roy's pajama pants, his movements became lighter and lighter, like he was trying to focus on thoughts being formed. His fingers toyed with the waist band, slowly looking up to his lover before his eyes trailed back down, looking at the bulge in his pants.

For a moment, Roy held his breath. While he knew it was unlikely with how far they’d come, it was still possible that Jay wasn't as into this fantasy as he had thought, and could possibly second guessing things. And, as into everything as he was, Roy wasn't going to let things continue if his boyfriend was uncomfortable. His eyes stayed glued on Jason, watching his face for every micro reaction, ready to pull the plug on everything the moment he sensed any sort of discomfort.

Instead of seeming to want to back out, his Jaybird's features seemed to have settled, his mind content with whatever he'd been mulling over. He watched as his love pressed a few more kisses to his skin, before sitting back on his knees. Sitting up, he looked to Roy almost cautiously.

"I have an idea…of something I wanna do."

He said, eyes not quite focusing on the other man. Roy nodded, stroking down Jason's side.

"Ok." He smiled, looking at his boyfriend with so much love. "What's your idea?"

Wordlessly, the man started pushing himself backwards, slinking himself down Roy's body. Past his stomach, past his bulge, down his legs, continuing to move backwards while holding eye contact. He shuffled down the bed until he reached the edge, unobstructed by a base board. From there, he turned around, stepping onto their bedroom floor before sinking down until all his boyfriend could see was the back of his head (all done without a word.).

Roy sat baffled for a moment, before he realized Jason was kneeling on the ground at the edge of the bed, looking over his shoulder at him expectingly. Being able to put two and two together, the realization hit Roy in a way he wasn't expecting. While yes that series of events was extremely funny to witness, it also settled something warm in his guts, taking in the position he'd be in, and how him being on his knees meant he immediately expected Roy to follow.

Just, fuck.

The red head stood slowly, stretching his back and legs until he felt that satisfying pull and pop, a low groan passing his lips. Jason chuckled, shifting around a bit awkwardly.

"Alright grandpa, let's get a move on."

He teased. Roy rolled his eyes, grabbing a pillow before he approached him.

"I gave you a pass for whatever the fuck that was, Jaybird. You can let me stretch."

He joked in return. It was Jay's turn to roll his eyes, trying to conceal a soft blush. He did have a habit of just doing things without really voicing them, which usually led to his lover trying to deduce what was expected from him from context clues (worlds greatest detective family meant their partners had to be pretty good at deducing too.). Luckily, Roy always had him, even in moments like these. He was kindly handed a soft pillow for him to kneel on.

After tucking it under his knees, Jason sat back to look up at Roy, his want clear on his face. It sent a warm, tingly feeling through the archer's pelvis, seeing his love in such a submissive position, looking up to him with devotion and love and want in his eyes. It stirred feelings from deep within his chest, both big and small, easy to tackle and things that would make him cry from just thinking about them too long. Putting that to the side for now (he had a job to do, of course.), he moved until he stood directly in front of Jason, his love now eye level with his clothed bulge. Instinctively, he thread his fingers through the thick black waves, pushing the white streak back until the strands smoothed into a slick style. His Jaybird hummed appreciatively, eyes fluttering closed as they both basked in the moment.

After a few beats of just allowing themselves to be with each other, Roy spoke up in that voice, the low, commanding timbre that was equally comforting and laced with authority.

"What do you say when it's too much, or you need out."

He asked, fingers flexing slightly in Jay's hair. Not enough to pull or even grip him, but enough to remind him of his place. The question made that dynamic all the more real in this moment.

"Stop."

He breathed, shuddering as the words climbed up his chest.

From here, he had the perfect angle of Roy's delicious frame. The way that his imposing, changed form became more obvious to him. Looking up at his lover now, there was a swell of pudge in his eye line that usually wasn’t there, and thick thighs that came to either side of him, taking up more of his vision in a way that made his dick pulse with need. While still (partially) clothed, Roy exuded such a raw and overwhelming sex appeal that made Jason fucking giddy, excited to be at his lover's disposal, a desperate urge building inside him to be good for him.

Keeping his eyes locked on Roy's, he gently raised his hands, bringing them back to the waist band.

"Can I?"

He asked in a small voice, watching how his lover's own eyes took him in, holding an intensity that was making his brain feel hazy.

"Yeah, you can."

With clear permission, Jason tugged the plaid pants down, leaving Roy in his underwear.

The sight under them was magical.

The gray boxers he was sporting left little privacy, shadows and contours not hidden like when wearing darker colours. The full outline of his erect cock and heavy balls were lewd by themselves, but the darkened spot where his tip lay, demonstrating just how needy he was, made Jason feel all kinds of hot and bothered. His hands trailed up the long, strong legs before him, brushing over fuzzy red hair and more of the odd scar. They settled on the thick expanse of his love's thighs, gripping into the plush meat, dimpling the skin. Jason felt his face flush with excitement, and he gazed back up to his boyfriend in a silent plea.

Roy himself was starting to feel that frantic need, panting slightly as he watched Jay work. Eyes locking back on one another, seeing the desire clear in his, he gave his love a slight nod, not knowing exactly what he was agreeing to, but knowing it wouldn't be something he'd regret. Being given a hesitant yes, his Jaybird moved forward with some restraint.

He sat up on his knees as he tipped himself forward, keeping his eyes locked on Roy's as he pressed his face into the front of his boxers, nosing along the bulge before him. The sudden thrill of the contact made Roy's grip tighten involuntarily in his hair, but Jay didn't seem to mind, keening contently at the pressure. Hearing that, and keeping his eyes locked on his lovers, Roy pulled a bit harder, guiding the man in front of him to drag himself along his clothed cock.

Jason did so happily, mouthing at the clothed appendage, melting into the heady smell of his boyfriend. He wasn't as crazy for the scent of cock and bodily musk the way Roy was, but he couldn't deny that the warm and cloying scent did do something for him. He let himself be dragged back and forth along him, being spurred on by the pretty puffed out moans he was receiving, until he was brought to the tip. There, feeling the ridged head through the fabric, he tried to be seductive by licking at the sensitive bundle of nerve endings. Doing it once earned him a pretty sound, and going in again made Roy curse. But as he tried to open his mouth and take in more of it, his love gently thrust his hips forward in tandem, pushing too much of that slightly harsh material past his lips at once for his brain to handle. The feeling of wet cotton against his tongue and the inside of his cheeks was truly awful. He tugged against Roy's grip, making muffled "nuh uh" sounds to voice his dislike of the sensation. Luckily for him, his boyfriend had fast reflexes, and let go of his grip to let him pull back.

"Sorry."

Roy panted, smoothing his hair down once more. Jason shook his head, moving his tongue around the inside of his mouth to get rid of the fuzzy feeling.

"S'ok, maybe it's our cue to take them off?"

He smiled, once recovered. Roy chuckled at the 180, but was happy to oblige.

Jay helped pull the underwear off, fingers fitting easily under the elastic band of them. Tugging them down his love's legs, he almost jumped at the way Roy's pink cock bobbed up into his eyeline. With so much leading up to this, so much hype in his mind for the main event, he was a bit shocked to be in the reality of it. But to see Roy, hard for him, so clearly wanting, it made his insides flip, and his own cock jump with his arousal. Swollen with want, tip glistening with sticky precum from just how into this entire thing he was, it was clear that Roy hadn't been offended by or an unwilling participant in his fascination, nor what had taken place in this scene so far. To know that his lover wasn't just idly supportive but actively enjoying himself, made Jason feel all sorts of things (mostly aroused, though).

The sight of him made everything so much better. His belly hung nicely above his cock, Jason's previous ministrations still bruising the skin. The area surrounding his dick, however, had also softened slightly, and while obstructed by a thick layer of fiery pubic hair, it still made Jay's ears ring with want. His brain had become complete and utter mush, and he barely could comprehend the way he was moving to help Roy get his clothes out of the way. With himself bent over, the red head also helped him out of his own shirt, with a drawl of "Don't leave me on my lonesome Jaybird, I wanna see that pretty bod of yours." (Which he definitely didn't feel crazy about.) With everything in its place, Jason sat back on his knees, ready.

Roy, for his part, adjusted how he was standing to be more sturdy, looking to avoid toppling over from basic movement. He wanted to make sure he could move freely to fulfill what his Jaybird wanted from him, but also ensure that he wouldn't hurt him accidentally from his carelessness. He knew himself well enough to know he'd succumb to the pleasures of his boyfriend's mouth. With a thigh bracketed on either side of Jason's head, he shuffled forward, his erect cock right in front of his lover's face. As if sensing his unease with his balance, Jay spoke in a lust rocked voice.

"Lean forward and place your hands on the mattress, if you feel like you might fall."

His voice got breathy near the end, as he eyed up the reddened erection before him. Roy nodded, smiling down to him, petting through his hair one last time.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you'd planned all this out, handsome."

He breathed, watching as Jason peered up at him with wide eyes.

"Good thing you know better."

With that, he leaned forward, eyes still on Roy's, as he took the red head's cock into his mouth.

The warm, wet heat of his tip being swallowed, head choked by soft lips wrapping around it, sent stars to Roy's eyes, his spine tingling with the electrifying feeling running through his nerves. He panted out a soft "Fuck" as he adjusted to the onslaught of pleasure the simple movement caused. If having his cock head just passed his love's lips was doing this to him, he shuddered to think how it would feel down his throat.

Since this was something they'd never done before (and since it had been a while since Jason had sucked him off at all), Roy didn't immediately dive head first into thrusting in and out of Jay. That would just be a recipe for disaster, most likely overwhelming him at the jump, and ending all ideas or attempts in regards to the fantasy. So, he braced himself, allowing for his Jaybird to move at his own pace. Once he'd get the go ahead, a look or a verbal ask, then he'd start thrusting his hips (What he was absolutely not planning to do was to grip Jason's head in any way and move him along himself. He knew he wasn't that selfish, and wouldn't expect Jay to be that giving.)

On the floor, Jason was already melting at the heavy feeling of Roy on his tongue. Even that little bit, feeling the heft of his cock head, and taste the bitter saltiness of his skin and precum, it was magical, sending him into a hazy head space where all he wanted to do was make Roy feel good. Slowly, he pushed his head forward, dragging his lips along the smooth skin. He could feel the drag of his love's foreskin following his movements, being pushed back as he followed the length of his dick, feeling him twitch in interest. It was so raunchy, depraved in the best way, to be so familiar with how one's lover's sex felt, how it would react to your touch. He hoped he'd never forget the feeling of Roy Harper's cock, no matter where it was on or in him.

His slow, languid movements made the red head groan, hands tightening around nothing, trailing up his body to tuck into his hair briefly, feeling the fly away’s that had sneaked out of his pony tail.

"God damn, Jay, baby."

He moaned, looking back down to see Jason taking him further and further, before pulling back and moving forward again, all while looking up at him with those big, loving eyes. There was no way Roy was getting out of this without having his brain sufficiently rocked from all this.

With the sizable length he was dealing with, it wasn't long before Jay was having to adjust himself, tilting his head a bit and relaxing his tongue and throat to allow for the appendage easy entrance. Luckily for him and his innate ability, he didn't have to worry about him gagging getting in the way of anything. Still, he had to prepare himself to start breathing through his nose, and to keep his jaw steady. Slowly, he took more and more of Roy in as he moved back and forth on his cock, briefly looking forward to see how it glistened with his spit. With one last pull back, taking a moment to suck in a deep breath, he pushed himself forward, moving at a snails pace along the entire thing to take it all down, moving until his nose was pressing into Roy's lower tummy, and his bottom lip was brushing the root of him.

While this wasn't new for the couple, Roy couldn't help that low groan that passed his lips, hand coming to just rest on top of Jason's head.

"Holy shit, Jason!"

He whined, his cock twitching in the firm grip. It was so tight and warm, feeling the slight contraction the muscles gave at his intrusion, the faint buzz of Jason humming contently. As quickly as he was enraptured by it, it slowly pulled itself away, Jay moving his head back so he could breath. Before Roy could process it, without a pause, he was being taken to the hilt again once more, Jason staring at him to get his reaction. It was nothing short of pure pleasure and enjoyment, Roy feeling like his legs were going to give out from how good it felt to have his cock so thoroughly serviced. As he tried to form words, gentle praises to give his lover, they died on his tongue as he was sucked in one last time, Jason adding the flourish of sticking his tongue out so he could lick along his the dimpled skin of his balls, sending Roy's whole nervous system into a tingly mess of rapture.

Jay pulled off after the third time, gasping a shaky breath, his lips covered in spit, webs of saliva attaching him to his beloved's cock. His eyes watered softly, not quite tears, but still needing a moment to blink them away. He sucked in as much air as he could, fully ready to dive back onto the appendage, but was stopped. Roy held his head in place, panting softly.

"One second." He breathed, pushing Jay's bangs back, stroking his head lovingly. "You're so fucking good at that baby, I just need a minute."

Jason respected the boundary, hands coming up to stroke Roy's thighs.

"You ok?"

He asked, voice hoarse. Roy chuckled breathlessly.

"I should be asking you that." He hummed, threading his fingers through his hair, looking down at him lovingly. "I'm fine, I just don't want this to be over too soon." The admission made his love blush with pride, knowing how quickly he could get his boyfriend worked up. "Are you ok?"

Without thought, Jason was nodding.

"Yeah, I am." He swallowed a bit, before continuing. "I want you to do what I asked earlier. Now that I know I can take it."

He urged, reminding Roy of what they had agreed upon. As much as his brain was dying to ask if he was sure, to ensure Jay would be alright with something intense like that, he simply nodded, adjusting his stance again. He didn't want Jason to think he was questioning his decision. He was an adult, and they had things in place to communicate if anything was wrong.

"Ok…yeah…you'll tap my leg three times if you need me to stop, alright?"

Jason nodded, earning a soft tug to his hair. Right, verbal agreements.

"Yes."

With breaths caught and an understanding between them, Jason braced himself against Roy's thighs, hands planted against the wide expanses happily, looking up to him expectingly. It sent a trill up his spine, seeing him ready to take whatever he would be given. He'd always felt that seeing his Jaybird in such submissive positions was something holy, to be the one to witness him step outside of those built up walls of harshness and be willing to put down his guard for him. It was something to be treated with reverence. Taking his time, he clutched himself in a firm grasp, holding his cock out to let Jay get comfortable in front of it. His love opened his mouth, adjusting himself so he'd be able to keep his throat open, gaze switching from the heavy heat between Roy's legs and back up to his eyes, waiting patiently. With a breath, the red head mentally prepped, knowing the risks and the rewards, before placing his tip back on Jason's tongue.

The velvety warmth surrounded him once more, making his centre tighten with the rush of sparks that flew through him. He kept his pace slow, inching slowly into the blazing heat with a skilled restraint. Jason's mouth was heavenly, something that would twist and turn and spit fire but also would love on him in all the ways it could. To be given permission to use it for his own fulfillment made him lightheaded. Once about half way in, he pulled back, not wanting to go all the way instantly. As exciting as it was, he didn't want to rush this, keeping his love's comfort in mind. But also, selfishly, he wanted to savour this, not knowing when his Jaybird might be up to it again.

He continued his shallow thrusts a few times, groaning openly with each roll of his hips. It felt similar to the usual amazingness of Jason's blow jobs, but with the added control on his end, being able to keep his own pace and slow down on his tender areas, it felt all that more wonderful, his sensitive dick buzzing with ecstasy, balls contracting as he moved. That added with the way Jason just kept looking at him, eyes filled with such warmth, it was filling his head with all sorts of nice thoughts and feelings. He made sure to pet through his hair, whispering soft praises through the whole thing, rewarding him for his submission and willingness to prioritize Roy's pleasure.

"You're so fucking pretty like that Jaybird." He growled, pushing his hips a little further. "Swallowing my cock so well, so handsome on your knees for me."

Jason, for his part, was feeling himself become dumb on Roy's prick, his brain and body feeling weightless as he steadied his breathing through his nose. While he was being taken easy on, it still felt so gratifying to be so useful to his boyfriend, to be used as something that was making him feel nice, and to be recognized for it so kindly. Even when debased to something like this, expecting himself to be used as a fuck toy, Roy never stopped making him feel loved and cherished and treated with humility, making it known that he was appreciated for what he was doing. It made it feel all the more better, to not just be treated as something worth fucking, but as a person that Roy adored having the honour to fuck. That thought sent more warm ripples of sparkling pleasure run through him, pooling in his pelvis.

"You treat me so well, gorgeous. Always making sure I'm taken care of, so fucking good."

Slowly, each thrust of Roy's hips bucking forward started to push his cock further and further into Jason's mouth, more of himself being swallowed down. With the mind numbingly good pleasure running through him, Roy felt himself start to lose balance, just as the man before him had predicted (He attributed it to being a loss of muscle strength in his core from his time of rest, an unprecedented casualty.). As he finally, finally, breached down into Jay's throat, feeling his nose just brush along his lower stomach, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep himself upright and not end up falling, with how amazing that constricting warmth felt. So, he took his love's advice.

Which, in retrospect, seemed to be a part of his perverse master plan.

By having Roy plant himself forward on the bed, it closed up the space that existed between the two. With Jason being in between both his lover's body and the mattress, the closing of this gap caused him to effectively be sandwiched between the two, the red head’s body pinning him against it. Which meant, in turn, that Jason's face was pressed against Roy's lower half. His thighs squished into his jaw, his stomach now pushing into his nose, eyes and forehead, engulfing his face in the warmth of his body, all while his cock was still buried in his mouth.

Roy didn't realize this at first, brain thoroughly scrambled from his dick being loved on so kindly, enraptured in the addicting feeling, head thrown back in ecstasy. It wasn't until he ended up looking back down and only being able to see the top of Jason's head that he realized the situation he'd put his lover in.

"Shit, Jay!"

He whined, both from stimulation and anxiety. His immediate thoughts were telling him to push himself up and off of him, to give him more space, until he felt the faint buzzing surrounding his cock. It wasn't panicked cries of wanting him off, hell, he wasn't even trying to push his legs away. No, they were moans. Sounds of euphoria as he was finally where he'd been longing to be. His hands were gripping Roy tighter, almost trying to pull him in further, head tilted forward as he pressed himself harder into the pin, absolutely loving being (unintentionally) dominated into place with his weight, basking in the lewd pressure.

In Jason's mind, he was on cloud nine, living the fantasy he'd been dreaming about for weeks. Roy had him squished up against him, his soft parts encompassing all his senses. The pressure on his face, feeling every breath and contraction from the abs below the fat against him, the way Roy's thighs and stomach repeatedly bumped back into his head, keeping him in place, topped off by the ever present taste and weight of Roy on his tongue, he'd found the holy grail, what life was truly about, his heaven on earth, etc. He could feel his boxers getting sticky with precum, cock jumping and tightening in pure horniness, but couldn't even bother trying to fulfill himself, too wrapped up in all the good it was making him feel. So of course, he was moaning so sweetly on Roy's dick, making his enjoyment known so he wouldn't stop.

With all the context clues he'd needed, and not feeling any sort of tapping on his leg, Roy felt himself absolutely lose it. Legs shaking as those waves of lustful pleasure rolled through him, half spurred on from the mentality of how into this fucking scene he was, seeing Jason so content, but also from how good he felt fucking himself into his throat.

"God dammit Jaybird, you fucking like that? Yeah? You were fucking made for my cock baby! You make me feel so fucking good!"

He moaned, hips snapping forward in a random pattern. He'd take a few shallow ones in a row to make sure Jason could breath, before fucking himself all the way in, feeling that low buzz that would vibrate through his tip at his love moaning on him. He'd feel the sharp press of his nose dig into his pubic bone when going that deep, feel the curl of Jay's fingers in his thighs, the drag on his nails. It was all so intoxicating, all that pleasure on top of knowing his boyfriend was getting off to him throwing his weight around. He'd never felt so much love pouring out of him, he'd never felt so loved and revered.

Jason himself was truly and utterly gone, no thoughts in his mind other than making sure his mouth stayed open, and timing his breaths properly. There was an ache starting in his jaw, blooming softly but not enough to make him want to stop, not when Roy was above him making the prettiest sounds, and pressing him into that warm, comforting place his body made over and over again. God, maybe he could convince him to fuck his face while laying down, have him pinned to the mattress, head held in place by his thick thighs, while he hammered himself into his mouth over and over again, practically sitting on his face. Now that was a thought.

He was already getting addicted to the repetitive fill and release of having his cock in and out of him, the feeling not as intrusive as he'd imagined. Nice, in a way. He tried to keep up his little tricks that he knew would make Roy feel good, sticking his tongue out and licking his balls on those deep thrusts in, hollowing out his cheeks when he's just fuck his mouth, but it was getting hard to keep focus and time things right, too caught up in how good the pressure of being pinned and used felt.

Roy, himself, was barely holding on. Moans and cries and whimpers leaving his lips, soft praises slurring on his tongue. He wasn't sure he could find words outside of "Oh fuck~" and "So good baby", well, besides whimpered calls of his love's name (and every variation of it.). Slowly, the roll of his hips were becoming more erratic, rhythm lost as he felt everything tighten slightly. He felt those spikes of pleasure, those sparks of want that stood out and contracted everything, starting to grow and grow, the edge becoming close and closer. His hands had fisted the sheets long ago, but now, he felt he could tear them apart. But, he knew what he needed to be able to push himself there, to actually get himself to cum.

Using whatever strength he could muster while his soul was being sucked out through his dick, he made himself stand back up again, a hand finding the top of Jason's head. He gripped a fistful of hair, leaning back a bit to finally get eyes on his face again. When their eyes finally connected once more, Roy was enamoured by the sight. Jason, face blotchy, covered in drool and sweat (a mixture of both of theirs), looked at him with blown out, fuzzy eyes, barely able to focus on him. His eyelids blinked slow and heavy, fingers gripping him so hard he'd left angry lines across the pale skin.

"Shit baby, you're so fucked out on my cock, huh?"

The words barely passed his lips before Roy was hissing with emotion, watching and feeling as Jason pushed himself forward and throated all of his dick down, trying to nuzzle himself further onto it, nose and cheeks pressed harshly into his pubic area. He felt the electric buzz of a loud moan, and Jason swallowed around him.

That sight, pure wanton lust for him, for his cock, for his body, for him, didn't just send him over the edge, but threw him.

He felt his peak hit him quickly, his balls tightening as those hot spikes of heady pleasure took over, sending his head into a light headed, hazy place. He had just enough wherewithal to realize that Jason probably wouldn't like him shooting ropes of hot cum down his throat, and immediately acted. He used the hand in his hair to pull him off, his other coming to hold his cock as the first spurts of his spent landed on Jay's still outstretched tongue. Overshooting, though, meant Roy had pulled out more than he intended, working himself over as he climaxed, spurting loads of cum all over Jason's face. Both were shocked, Jason more so than Roy, but they both melted into the moment as Roy finished with a string of expletives and praises and beautiful fucking sounds, the man below him also keening in a fucked out delight at the feeling. The rolling waves of Roy's orgasm crash over and over again through his body, practically shaking as he shoots load after load, euphoria in each ripple running through him. The red head jacked himself off to completion while his lover licked his tip clean, until his body was seizing with each drag of his fist, and his Jaybird was covered in his love.

The moment stretched for a beat, with Roy panting to catch his breath and rest. But, when he looked back down at Jason, looking so debauched and content while his face was painted with cum, he couldn't help himself. Without hesitation, the archer dropped to his knees to join him on their bedroom floor, kissing him passionately despite the mess. He didn't care, couldn't come up with a single fuck to give, not when Jay looked so pretty and had done all that for him. Pulling away slowly, not caring of what was on his face, nor the taste of himself on his tongue, Roy dragged his fingers along his love's features, collecting the spent. When he'd had enough coating them, he slowly coaxed it to Jason's lips, pushing it into his mouth, watching in fascination as he desperately sucked the digits clean. Jay moaned softly around them, still in a state of being fucked out and wanting to please his lover, but also seeking his own fulfillment in tasting his orgasm. It was hedonistic and raw, and made Roy's already milked cock twitch in interest. He'd be thinking about this for weeks.

When he was mostly clean, the only cum left on his face being the thin sheen of it that had been smeared around, Jason started to come out of the scene. Roy slowly pulled his fingers from his mouth, taking them to his own to suck them the rest of the way clean of the mixture of spit and cum, before he dropped his hand to his lap, chuckling in disbelief.

"Holy shit, Jaybird."

He panted. Jason went to respond with a similar astonishment, but could only manage a small smile, too uncomfortable with the slowly drying fluid on his face to think of what to say. Luckily, Roy could tell almost immediately, knowing his boyfriend so well, and got up quickly to help remedy the situation.

Returning with a pack of baby wipes (having a child who was prone to having sticky hands meant they kept them everywhere.), Roy instantly got to work helping clean Jason off, wiping down his features until he was fresh faced (literally.).

"There." He mumbled once finished. "Better?"

Jason smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, better."

His voice was so fucked out, hoarse and sandpaper rough, and all it did was endear Roy to him even more.

The red head took a moment to clean his own face up, tossing both used wipes into a nearby trash. Sitting back on his hip, he looked to Jason, catching his eye, seeing that same look of wonder and adoration as he'd seen when he was on his knees. It made Roy blush a bit, caught off guard by the pureness behind the gaze, by being adored no matter what he's doing. But as his eyes drop out of coyness, they catch on the sizable mass in his lover's pants, reminding him that there's a score to settle. He needed to make Jason cum as hard as he did, like, yesterday.

Dragging his eyes back up to his lover's, his mouth easily curled itself into that sleazy smile he couldn't help but sport, scooting himself closer to Jason.

"Hey."

He purred in a low tone, wanting to ease them back into things slowly. Of course, Jay immediately caught his drift, a blush rising in his cheeks as he knew what was about to happen. Roy could never keep his hands off him for too long, could never leave him hanging, especially after it had been his turn to be loved on.

"Hi."

He smiled, his boyfriend just inches from his face. With a familiarity the two couldn't help but share, they easily slotted against each other, mouths finding each other in a gentle press. Jason's eyes fluttered closed, his lips swollen from being used, soothed against the warmth of Roy's. Exhausted from holding himself up, he slumped against the other's body, letting himself be held as he languidly kissed his lover, putting up no fight as the archer's tongue piercing passed the seam of his lips, and started exploring his mouth. His own started tracing the muscle, laving over Roy's tongue in his mouth, the connection seeming chaste in comparison to what they'd just done.

With him lax and pliant, Roy started collecting Jason's body in his arms, caressing his waist, and then maneuvering him so he'd have his legs straddling his hips, the red head's arms securing him. He put up no fight, probably expecting Roy to finish him off here on the floor. But that wouldn't do for Harper. Jason couldn't do all that for him, bruise his throat with Roy’s cock, and not get to climax in the comfort of a bed. As if he were picking up a pet, or even his daughter, Roy moved with practiced ease, standing while holding Jason against him, chuckling into his mouth as he heard him gasp at suddenly being hoisted into the air. He scrambled slightly for purchase, gripping onto his boyfriend tightly, as he got them to a sturdy, standing position. Spinning around, Roy held Jason tight as he threw the two of them back onto the bed, his love pulling away in shock as he landed on top of him.

And while yes it was a bit of a surprise to be picked up so easily, it also was super fucking hot to witness such a casual showing of strength.

But now, laid atop Roy Harper, looking down at him in all his naked glory, Jason felt the prickle of his own lust, realizing the lewdness of the tableau. With his hands planted once again on the plush of Roy's chest, straddling his thighs, being looked up at in pure appreciation, for what he'd done, for who he is, it made him dizzy with a want yet addressed. Roy smiled up at him, face awfully fond.

"Do you want to cum?"

He asked, tone as non-judgmental as he could muster. Jason did, on the occasion, have no interest in fulfilling himself during sex, participating as a means to only seek out the sensation of it by making Roy feel good (which, the other also tended to do, more often than Jason, really.). But right now, all that was on his mind was to finally orgasm.

"Yeah, I do." He nodded, panting softly. "Please."

Roy reached up, cupping Jason's face to pull him back down into a heated kiss. He followed easily, stretching himself out across his boyfriend's naked body below him, allowing himself the privilege of sinking into him and fanning out, like a pad of butter on a hot skillet. His hands stayed perched on Roy's chest, fingers idly feeling out the expanse of his skin. It was nice, a comforting weight pressing all along his body, making the archer feel comforted after fighting for his life against that spectacular blow job. His arms wrapped around Jay's waist, holding him tight, hoping that he'd never have to let him go.

As they swapped spit, Jason moved sluggishly to be positioned better. Roy felt one of his thighs being knocked by a knee, and moved it out of the way without question, feeling Jay hum, satisfied, as he changed from straddling both of his thick thighs to just one of them. The strong muscle, only barely softened with repose, pressed itself against his still clothed crotch, eliciting a quiet noise from him, a barely there whimper at finally being touched. He had no hope or plans to last long, especially after living out his fantasy, especially after doing it with Roy. Getting to hear him make all those pretty sounds, knowing it was him that got him to make them, feeling so indulged but also accomplished from pleasing his lover, he could finally understand what Roy's whole deal was with taking care of him.

His hands trailed idly all along him, gripping onto his arms, chest, stomach, feeling up the pudge of his lover without hesitation, feeling at ease with his perversion. Roy didn't seem to mind at all, smiling into their kiss. Lips still locked together, tongues tracing each other’s without worry, grown accustomed to one another following their evening, Jason started to steadily roll his hips while mounted on Roy's thigh, bucking them forward against his bare skin. While his erection was still tucked away in his sweats, the simple stimulation with him so fucking turned on was putting that swirly starlight behind his eyes, and making him whine into Roy's mouth.

Picking up on what his Jaybird was doing, Roy let his hands trail down his back to take full handfuls of his ass, helping guide him into a steady rhythm. He could feel his love properly moaning against his lips, muffled sounds trailing off into soft whimpers when the grind would feel particularly good. And while Roy was sure that those slow drags of his clothed cock felt amazing, he was on a mission to give his love an equally brain numbingly good orgasm.

Pulling his head back slowly, his eyes fluttered open to a beautiful sight. Jason up in his face, lips spit slicked and parted, hair ruffled in a halo around his head, with features molded to his pleasured state. He puffed out soft moans as his eyes struggled to open, looking to Roy with pure adoration, looking at him like he'd hung the stars, kept the moon in orbit, and was the reason behind the sun shining every day. And Roy loved him for it. Getting him so sex drunk that he couldn't keep up the facade of neutrality, and couldn't stop himself from masking his devotion always made the archer's heart beat pick up. With a measured pace, a hand moved from where it was perched on his ass, to the front of his pants.

"Can I help you out handsome? Or do we want to keep this up?"

The question hung in the air for a moment. Being so acquainted with his boyfriend's preferences, Roy knew that there were times where Jason couldn't handle skin to skin, getting overwhelmed by having his oversensitive nerve endings toyed with in such an intense way. So, he'd prefer things like dry humping or stimulation through the clothes. Jay felt his pelvis dip at the question, so turned on by the thoughtfulness his love had for him. Slowing his movements down to collect himself enough, he answered.

"Y-yeah, you can touch me. Please, touch me."

He groaned through pants, completely gone. Roy did not have to be told twice, immediately pulling down the waist of his sweats and underwear to free his leaking cock, tucking them under his balls and below his ass, finally getting his hands on his lover's gorgeous dick.

With his new found access to the appendage, Roy ran a few lazy strokes along his cock, basking in Jason's low moans as he repeatedly stripped him. While his precum was enough for them to be able to manage it, the red head pulled his hand back to quickly spit in his palm, effectively lubing up his dick. The new wet warmth running along him made Jay whine a pretty sound, a low "fuck" passing his lips at Roy's thorough ministrations. Gliding a few more smooth strokes along him, feeling Jay try to thrust up into them, an idea came to mind. Something that would get him off while still getting to appreciate what had him so turned on in the first place.

Keeping him in hand, Roy moved his grip, and Jason's cock along with it, so that instead of him holding him in a closed fist, his sex was pinned between the red head's palm, and the soft skin of his thigh. Jason, who had looked down feeling the shift in pressure, felt something surge inside him, warm sparks trailing through his spine, making his cock twitch and leak, and his brain start to pour out of his ears.

"Holy shit, Harper!"

He groaned, using this new leverage to fuck forward into his love's hand. He had tucked his head and shut his eyes momentarily, too overwhelmed by how amazing it all felt, his arousal spurred on by the visuals, but was quickly brought back when he heard Roy speak.

"Yeah, is it better than you imagined, baby?"

He hummed, smiling as Jay's blurry eyes tried to focus on him. He nodded, loose and dumb and so lost in how amazing it felt.

"Yes, fuck, Roy! It's good!" He whined, hips jackhammering forward. "You're so hot, thank you, fuck, thank you!"

He babbled on as his hips continued working, Roy languidly stroking his hand in time.

"Wish you could see yourself, you're so fucking handsome Jaybird."

His low voice was doing things to Jason, making that surge deep in his body feel closer and closer.

Hanging his head once more, too tired to keep it up, Jason watched his cock work in and out of Roy's hold. As his cock head disappeared into his folds and Roy’s hand and reappeared as he fucked forward, it dragged a mess of glistening precum and spit all over the archer's thigh, his calloused fingers covered as well. It made it easier for him to move further and further up his legs, his tip pushing into the plush skin, dimpling it with his force. It was so addicting to watch. And as he hiked higher and higher, Jay's cock head started to try and bury itself under the fold connecting Roy's stomach and his thigh, bumping into his belly with soft nudges. He moaned gently, hands resting on the red head's ribs squeezing tighter, so entranced by the squish. He so desperately wanted his lover to fuck him in all the ways that made the difference noticable. Pinning him down under him, using it to his advantage while wrestling, trapping him between his thighs while he sucked him off or ate him out. It didn't matter, as long as it was the two of them.

Roy couldn't stop the fond chuckle from bubbling through his lips, not while Jason looked so cute, so transfixed on his body while getting himself off. He stroked down his back with his free hand, finding his ass once more and grabbing a firm handful of cheek.

"You make me feel so hot, Jaybird. Gonna have me getting all conceited when I go back to work." He hummed, squeezing his cock a bit harsher, making Jason cry out such pretty moans of "yes", and more mindless pleads. "All I'm gonna wanna talk about is how my man treated me so well during the holidays, how he couldn't take his eyes off me for one second."

Roy's words went directly to Jason's dick, making those trills of pleasure run deeper and deeper through his core, winding everything up tight. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, that he couldn't keep himself going with how good everything felt, the memories of Roy's weight on him fresh in his mind, the way he looked so handsome below him now, how good his skin felt against his. He pumped his hips forward, needing just something, anything, to get him that last little bit there. Harsh thrusts forward and desperate whimpers making his want for a climax obvious.

And Roy, who knew his lover so well, knew exactly how to get him there.

Gripping his cock in a fist once more, Roy delivered firm, fast strokes, keeping them close to Jason's tip. His other hand came around front, slipping under to cup his balls and gently massage the heavy purse, feeling them flex and tighten at his touch. The action sent Jason reeling, body tipping backwards, hands planting on Roy’s shins to keep himself up. He hissed, dissolving into quick moans and whimpers, quiet "oh my gods" and calls of his love's name, a mantra of "Roy, holy shit, Harper!". Knowing Jason was getting close, Roy decided to commit to his idea. Maneuvering himself and Jay's cock as best as he could, he directed the head towards his abdomen and chest, smiling up to his lover with that easy grin that made Jason blush on a normal day, but now made his head fuzzy.

"C'mon Jaybird, show me how much you love me." He hummed. "Mark me as yours."

And while it was cheesy, and cliche, and all the things Jason usually hated, at that moment, it sent him over the edge. Body going taut, hips stuttering, that coiling pressure reached its high before it blew, waves of pleasure travelling through Jay as he came. With a long whine and sobbed cries of pleasure, spurts of cum shot from his cock, covering Roy's thighs, stomach, some even shooting as high as his chest, the archer keeping an even pace as his love's hips twitched sporadically. Jason always came way more than the average person post  Lazarus Pit spa treatment, orgasms lasting longer as well, which meant Roy had the honour of watching the glorious sight of his boyfriend's climax as it extended in time, watching his movement slow into aborted drags as he went boneless above him, breathes shuddering. By the end of it, Roy's body was covered with a thorough mess of cum, having had the favour he'd done to Jay's face sufficiently returned.

It took a bit for Jason to finally open his eyes again, squinting against the warm afternoon light trickling in through their blinds, an early sunset due to the season. His eyes sparkled in it, pretty emeralds set in deep sockets, lids hooding them in his lax state. With a final, deep breath, he sputtered a wheezy chuckle.

"Fucking hell." He laughed, face breaking into a lazy smile. "That was, fuck."

Roy couldn't help himself from making a low sound as well.

"I know." Smiling, he stroked down Jason's side, wanting to reach up and kiss and coddle his lover, but not wanting to make a bigger mess of their bed than they'd already had. "You did so good, Jaybird."

Jason's face pinched in a way that only Roy could get it too, something between a cringe and being fond, adoration and embarrassment.

"Y'know I'm not…" he let the words die on his tongue. "Thank you. And thank you for indulging me." He looked down, picking at the pilling on his pants. As the scene concluded, and the word came back into view around him, the reality of everything seemed to hit Jason at once. He shifted a bit awkwardly, swallowing the spit that had flooded his mouth. "That wasn't like…too weird for you?"

He mumbled, eyes still trained downward. Roy could feel the uncertainty, those insecurities that came up within Jay whenever he'd ask for anything for himself, involuntarily feeling selfish for his own enjoyment if he felt it was at the expense of others, needing the other person to have gotten something out of it for it to have been worthwhile. Being mindful of the mess between them, Roy reached up, cupping his lover's face with his clean hand.

"Handsome, that was the furthest thing from. You've indulged me in my freak shit before and you think I'd be put off by that?" He tried to keep a reassuring look on his face, making sure Jason was looking at him. "You made me feel so sexy Jaybird, like I'm not some dad who let himself go."

Jason smiled, shaking his head, taking Roy's hand and kissing his palm, as he had earlier.

"You're not, and even if you were, that has no merit on your attractiveness." He hummed into his skin. "You're like the poster boy for rugged now, we gotta get you a flannel and drive out somewhere so you can chop wood for a calendar or something."

Roy laughed, shaking his head.

"You wanna put me in a dilf calendar, baby?"

That comment earned another cringe.

"Don't call yourself a dilf."

After another round of giggles and fond looks, Jason sighed, slowly standing from where he was perched on Roy. The reality of the mess they’d made was starting to affect his ability to stay on top of him.

"We need a shower."

He hummed, grabbing the wet wipes and tossing them to his boyfriend, still laid on the bed. Roy hummed into agreement, blindly reaching for them.

"You get it started while I throw the sheets in the wash?"

Jason hummed in agreement, padding off, but not before looking back at Roy. Sweaty, covered in his spent and his marks, looking so happy and relaxed. His plush body laid out on the bed, a full display of muscle and rolls, warm skin marred with scars and tattoos, soft ginger hair covering him, a vision to behold. He was going to be thinking about that for a while, sending it directly to a corner of his mind he'd unturn on a lonely night without his lover.

The shower provided more material for that dark, dingy corner. Watching Roy run his hands along himself, rivulets of water tracing down his frame, body hair speckled with dew drops. Noticing the stares, he immediately handed over his bottle of soap to Jason, letting him touch all along him as he "helped" him clean himself off.

"I better not catch any more flack for being a pervert, by the way. If you're gonna keep acting like that."

Roy hummed as his boyfriend finished washing down his legs. Jason chuckled, looking up at him while batting his lashes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Roy rolled his eyes over dramatically.

"Yeah yeah, the marks from where you tried to take chunks outta me say otherwise."

Hours later, when they were both tucked into bed, lights low in the bedroom, Jason pressed one last sleepy kiss to Roy's chest, hands trailing soft patterns on his tummy. He wasn't worried anymore, about bad reactions, or that his love would find him weird. Simply basking in the feeling of getting to love his man the way he'd been dreaming about.

"Mmmm, love you."

He muttered, barely holding onto reality. Roy stroked down his back, pulling him impossibly closer, letting him melt into the warm plush of his body.

"I love you too, Jaybird. Goodnight"

(And while Roy had been fully planning on getting back to his training and pick up the bow again following New Years Day, he decided to push that back a few weeks, and let Jason live out his fantasies a bit longer. It's the least he could do.)

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Concept for a fic where one of Batman’s children (probably Dick) buys a huge container of protein powder, makes their first shake, realizes it’s ass, and then has to come up with a bunch of recipes to get rid of it. There should also be a plot line of them trying to pawn it off to one of their Bat siblings, only for them to be thwarted by them either A) already having a brand they like, or B) don’t use protein powder (I’m thinking that Jason gets his protein from straight up meat). They need to be determined to get rid of it without throwing it out.

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To read most of my fics you usually need to have unlocked level 15 of being queer, but for this next Jayroy fic I'm gonna need y'all to unlock level 5 of deconstructing your fatphobia as well pretty please <3

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Alright jayroy lovers, I have an idea I want to write with the boys once I'm done my other drafts, but I need opinions. I won't reveal much other than it being Holiday Season related with dad bod Roy, and I want to know whether I should keep it in the two cis boyfriends world I've already created or if I should switch it up (since I cannot help but make these bitches trans)

Which would you prefer for a Jayroy smut?

Both cis men

Trans man Jason and Cis Roy

Trans man Roy and Cis Jason

Both Trans men

Voting ended onNov 24, 2025

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I promise that this fic is coming, I've just been so busy :( But I will hopefully finish this by the first week of January, and them do my last WIP (Something completely new and not DC related) and then will possibly do some trans man jason and roy stuff <3

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Getting Drunk on Rose Water

Clark Kent x Bruce Wayne

Smut, MDNI

Words: 8.7k

Tags: Superbat, fantasy, t4t ftm bruce wayne and clark kent, Bruce Wayne uses a rose toy...right on the tin

Notes: Sorry for disappearing right after my kinktober series, burnout got me hard and school took over my life, cause y'know, masters work comes outta no where ig. I made a funny tumblr post about needing 10 likes and I'd write trans Bruce Wayne using a rose toy while I was drunk on Halloween, and it hit 10 likes…sooooo. (References to Clark's genitals are explained in my last t4t superbat fic, but essentially in dick and cunt look a lot like flowers) (read it here on Ao3)

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Bruce huffed as he threw himself down on his bed, tossing a half opened gift box to the side carelessly and with malice, as if the item had burned him. As if he took great offense to its existence.

"Clark, this is ridiculous."

He grumbled, pointedly not looking anywhere near his boyfriend, nor the box next to him. Staring off towards the window, pensive. So fucking pensive. Clark, for his part, was trying his best to keep his face neutral through the whole fit, not letting his barely concealed giggles slip out.

"C'mon B…" Clark sighed, amusement still clear in his voice despite his best efforts. He crouched down to be eye level with his boyfriend. "It's just something to tide you over until I get back. It's all in good fun. You don't even have to use it."

This all started because Clark had to go away on a work conference. It seemed Perry White must've somehow had a change of heart in terms of overworking his employees to the bone until they either retired young or quit, and decided that getting them some time away from the office would do them some good (Most likely due to a generous donation from the Wayne foundation, only given with the promise of improving worker satisfaction). It wasn't that big of a change, though, only taking his top performing employees on the trip to some nice beaches just outside coast city on the condition of attending a few journalism conferences that were occurring while they were there. It honestly wasn't too bad of a deal though, getting a free vacation for a week with the catch of needing to attend 3 days of meetings.

The only problem was that Clark didn't have a good enough excuse not to go. With being unable to say "sorry, can't, got a city to save every fucking night" (Bruce's words, not his), and being a perceived bachelor, Perry wouldn't accept his flimsy excuses for not going, meaning he was going to have juggle both being Clark Kent and Superman as per usual, with the added bonus of needing to fly back and forth across the country each night. At least he knew Lois and Jimmy could cover for him if anything came up. But with having to balance all that, Clark knew he would have to trim some things from his personal life to make up time to recharge.

Obviously, Bruce understood. He'd cancelled more weekly date nights than he could count, he'd be a hypocrite if he got on Clark's case about this.

But, obviously, he still had to be his dramatic self about it. Sighing wistfully about how much he'd miss him, making snide comments about their time apart, and god, the remarks about their sex life. He'd look up at him in bed, basking in the afterglow, the tingles of an their orgasms still dissipating, and whisper about how he'd long for his cock, fingers and mouth, how he couldn't wait to have them back, how he'd dream of grinding against the bouquet between his lover's thighs while he was away. It was driving Clark insane, and Bruce knew it.

He was playing to his strengths. Putting his lover through the slow torture of making him feel just bad enough to have him wrapped around his finger, but not enough for them to have a serious talk. Playing off his discontentment at the situation as playful teasing, while still having Clark give him everything he could to mitigate his feelings. He was good, really good.

Obviously, two could play at this game it seemed.

Just a few days before he had to leave (a few minutes before our story started), Clark came to the manor with a gift wrapped box in tow, tucked neatly under his arm. When he was met with Bruce's shocked and suspicious face, he blushed and looked off like a timid high schooler stopping by his crushes house.

"I've been feeling a bit guilty about having to run off for a week, so, I wanted to bring you something special as an apology, something to comfort you while I'm gone."

He said in that oh so sweet Kansas bred voice, warm enough to melt butter. The Bat was taken aback. Obviously the couple had gotten each other gifts before, c'mon he was Bruce Fucking Billionaire Wayne, but Clark had never gotten him something over his petty actions. It almost made him feel bad for how he'd been acting up, thinking about his boyfriend using his meager salary to get him something (The man paid for a 3 bedroom apartment in downtown Metropolis, and had a 401k, but that's neither here nor there compared to generational wealth and CEO status.). Bruce took it with gentle hands, giving the man a soft smile.

"Clark, you really didn't have to."

He breathed, his face showing exactly how smitten he was. The super scratched the back of his neck, shrugging.

"Well, it's only the right thing to do."

He placed his hand on the Bat's back, guiding him to the bedroom. Always such a respectful man, wanting to keep their relationship away from his children's eyes. (Yeah…relationship)

Once alone, Bruce placed the box down on his bed, looking at Clark with an almost giddy expression, well, as giddy as the bat could be, before he tore into the paper. It gave way under his hand, pulling itself apart and separating to grant him access to the gift underneath. And there, through the clear plastic, it stared back at him.

For all intents and purposes, it looked stupid, Bruce almost dare say childish if it weren't for the subject matter. a strange bell shape that swooped the way a rose would, with odd plastic edges meant to resemble the flora. An open hole in the center of the top that slopped into a dip on the inside, silicone covering the mechanism. On its side, an obvious power button, a carved circle around the universal symbol. The whole thing seemed to be small enough to easily fit in his palm. Encasing the item, the cardboard paneling advertised the 10 speeds the toy was capable of, describing it as having unique sucking capability that resembled that of oral sex. Graphics down the side demonstrated where it could be used, what it would best stimulate, on one's nether region or their nipples. And of course, because Clark Kent thought himself the funniest creature in the entire galaxy, he had chosen the one that came in a matte black silicone.

He had gotten him a god damned Rose Toy.

Now, obviously, one would question why either of these individuals would know about this ridiculous (marvelous) invention. Looking at Bruce Wayne, stereotyped as being nothing but a stern face by everyone who knew him personally and an aloof beloved idiot by the public, and Clark Kent, the good Midwestern boy scout that would barely curse unless the situation needed it, you wouldn't expect them to be the crowd that knew about this sort of thing. They weren't the type to possess elite knowledge on heavily memed sex toys. But what most wouldn't suspect is that 1. Bruce Wayne is a media personality that has to be acutely aware of the online world, especially for interviews, and 2. Clark Kent is a reporter who also has to be acutely aware of the online world to give interviews. Two sides of the same coin. Funnily enough, a few weeks prior, Bruce had sent the Kryptonian an article published in the "Wellness" section of some competing news organization about the toy, coupled with the hilariously thought out text of "you" (stealing the joke from his children's antics in the family group chat), comparing the floral quality of the marital aid to his genitals. Truly, peak comedy.

So, naturally, Clark knew exactly what would be the perfect thing to leave his particularly needy lover before he left.

The Super had a wickedly pleased smirk on his face as he took in his boyfriend's reaction.

"This way you won't be missing my 'bouquet' while I'm gone, B. I hope you're happy with it being only one flower, wouldn't want to upstage myself too much."

He teased, trying to suppress a giggle as his lover leveled him with a dead panned glare.

"How long did you rehearse that line?"

He asked, moving his unimpressed gaze back to the box. Clark chuckled, looking off sheepishly.

"Since I got it in the mail yesterday."

Which brought them back to the beginning, Bruce perching on his bed with an obvious pout, clearly off put by the so-called gift. No rant, no yelling, just stewing with that signature bat glare. He looked more upset than that time Damian and Tim broke a window in their den throwing around Bat-a-rangs (Though the expression would be indistinguishable to the untrained eye.)

"B, are you seriously that upset over this?" Clark asked, dropping to his knees before his lover. He gently held the Bat's face, looking at him with those full, cornflower blue eyes. This man was a whole garden it seemed, filled with so much life. "Or are you grumpy over something else?"

That seemed to strike a nerve. God, he couldn't be that easy to read, could he? Bruce sighed, dropping the weight of his head into his boyfriend's hands. He didn't want to admit it, but his incongruity was less a symptom of the gift itself, and more so an issue of something he was far more upset at; his own feelings.

"I…damn it."

He mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes opened after a beat, taking in Clark, the man waiting patiently with a soft smile on his face. The perfect image of supportive. What a little terror, being such a wonderful man. Knowing exactly how to tease him to get under his skin, and knowing exactly how he'd need to be comforted despite his reaction. He was sure the super wasn't expecting him to get this mad, but he wasn't arguing, just offering his support. Even if the Bat was outwardly annoyed at the gift, especially with the teasing nature as to why it was in his possession, he couldn't help but think it was rather sweet (and sexy) his lover wanted him to be satiated in his absence.

But that was what this was truly about. His absence.

Bruce loved Clark, loved him fully and honestly, loved him in a way that terrified him and made him feel whole, made him feel human. Time and time again he'd taken on lovers that seemed in awe of him. In awe of the super human qualities that he possessed. They loved his inordinate amount of wealth, how he essentially had the world at his finger tips with how much price didn't matter. They loved his skills as the Batman, a jack of all trades, the master of none, but so much better than being the master at one. No other human could do what he did, possess the skills he had, the resources he had, and he was charming, and smart, and witty, and fun, and downright irresistibly beautiful. It's no wonder that anyone would fall for such a pinnacle of perfection so far above the capabilities of man.

And then there was Clark. Clark Fucking Kent. The man that loved him because he was human.

The man that saw him tear himself apart for his screw ups. The man who saw him mourn every person he's lost. The man that listened to him rant and rave about how he had to stick to his moral code. The man that saw him at his lowest lows and highest highs and took them all in stride. He didn't love Bruce Wayne, or the Batman, he loved his B, the man that existed underneath it all. Not one aspect of him, but the sum of his parts. And that was terrifying.

It had taken so much for Bruce to accept Clark into his life in this way, to let himself fall in love with such purity. He was always so worried he'd sully it, tarnish the Man of Steel. No matter how much good he did, it always felt wrong, not enough. As much as he was renowned as being super human, he simply was a man. How does that stand in the face of alien life? Of someone so perfect in every way, so real and raw, that he couldn't help but be in awe of him the way everyone was of himself? It took a lot of work to push down those walls, to stop worrying and just let himself be loved. But once he did, he knew that he never wanted to let go, knew that Clark was his forever and ever. Which explained his feelings. Feelings so human it hurt him.

He was upset that he wouldn't see Clark for a week.

And fuck was it silly and stupid. He had left Clark alone for weeks before. The two once had a time last year where they couldn't see each other for a month with the Bat having to go deep undercover to end a child smuggling ring (Dick had had take shifts as Batman and Nightwing, Jason once stood in as Bruce Wayne for a press conference with their hologram technology, it was a whole thing.) But, funnily enough, it was never Clark that had to be the one that had to spend some time away because of his duties…and for some reason, that was tearing Bruce apart.

He knew it was childish and wrong. Blame affluenza or something, he'd grown used to having things he needed at his finger tips, and, well, he needed Clark the most. So to not be able to have him at his beck and call, while toxic of him, did hurt his feelings. So now, looking down at this toy, a pseudo replacement to his lover for something he had worked so hard on perfecting with Clark, just felt…wrong.

Sex with the Super was something sacred to him, to get to feel the Kryptonian in all his glory, have something he'd grown so familiar with, be alien with this new love, it was extraordinary, and he didn't take his privilege to experience it lightly. Being offered a cheap knock off in its place? As a joke? It just…it left him feeling raw.

He sighed, eyes trailed down as he finished explaining it all to Clark, looking at the expensive, ornate rug he'd stolen from his parents room when decorating. He'd trim a lot of the fat from all the emotional stuff, but did give his boyfriend the wide strokes. He was upset he wouldn't see Clark for a week because he was the one busy for once. With the silence hanging over them, he expected to hear a laugh, maybe a snicker or a giggle, but instead was met with a soft sigh and two arms scooping him up in a hug. It caught him off guard, Clark's hugs almost always did, but he melted into the touch, letting the alien use his strength (and flight, the cheater) to bring them to be laying comfortingly on the bed, toy abandoned at its foot.

With warm, firm hands stroking his side, Bruce relaxed into the hot timbre of his boyfriend's voice.

"I didn't think it would upset you that much." He mumbled, pressing a kiss to his stubbly cheek. B wanted to push him away, huff that he didn't need to be babied right now…but. Ok, maybe it was a bit nice. Clark continued, voice low. "I guess I might've spoiled you a bit by constantly being there when you said the word." He chuckled.

Bruce nodded, a breathy laugh passing his lips.

"I don't want you to think I'm upset at you." His eyes wandered to the package just a few feet from them. "It's honestly a very kind gift." His turtle neck was covering most of the blush that had climbed his throat.

Clark chuckled, pressing another kiss to Bruce's cheek.

"Thank you for your honesty, though, I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to share that with me, darling."

He breathed, smiling against Bruce's skin. The bat could feel the outline of his teeth against the plush of his cheek.

"Don't make me regret it, boy scout."

He hummed. The super acquiesce. After a beat, he spoke again.

"I wish I could stay home with you…but, you know I can't."

He sighed. At that, Bruce sat up, looking at Clark sternly.

"Oh, please don't harp on that, Clark. I'm a grown ass man, I can handle not having you around for a few days." That statement earned him an arched brow. "Consider my fit, regulating my emotions."

Clark chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, there's no doubt Damian and you are related."

They stayed there for a while, tangled in the bed, wrapped in each other's arms, before the super dragged a warm palm along Bruce's abdomen, garnering his attention. The bat looked up at him, brows knit.

"Since we still have time together, though…"

He bit his lip, a shy yet hopeful look on his face. God, how could Bruce say no to such a charmer?

Despite Clark perfectly preparing his lover for his absence with an over indulgence in his abilities, running his cup over with all hedonistic pleasures he could muster, the toy stayed in Bruce's possession. Clark offered to take it back, dispose of it somehow, but Bruce was having none of it. It was a gift, at the end of the day, and his mother raised him right during her time on this earth. The Bat tucked it away in his drawer with the other devices of pleasure, ignoring its existence, honestly, pretending he never saw it. Though, he was sure that he was going to have to gossip about it with someone at some point.

Nevertheless, a few days later, the day arrived. Clark slept over the night before, holding Bruce from dusk until dawn, listening to his heartbeat intensely, memorizing every sound to make sure he wouldn't freak out thinking something was out of the ordinary. They shared breakfast with the rest of the family in the morning, and spent time curled up together for as long as they could. Clark promised that they would text and call at every opportunity, and that he could be called in case of emergencies. Keeping his front important or not, he wouldn't leave Bruce hanging like that. Then, after a tight hug goodbye on the bat's balcony, Clark flew off back to Metropolis. Bruce stayed standing, watching, far past him disappearing into a spec of dust over the horizon. Like a Victorian woman looking over the rolling hills, expecting her lover to return, he sat staring at the Gotham skyline, tears barely wetting his water line (like the dramatic bitch he is).

He needn't wait long to hear words, though. Clark practically sending him live updates every 15 minutes of him departing on his journey. ("I'm on a plane Bruce! A real, commercial airplane! The seats are terrible!"). It was endearing, and comforted that ache in Bruce's chest. He knew he wouldn't miss him too much. And of course, because they couldn't keep a nice thing going for too long, Clark sent one last reminder of what Bruce could do if he got lonely before he took off, sending a single rose emoji.

Yeah, Clark Kent was the bastard Bruce Wayne deserved.

The toy honestly went ignored for about 3 days. Sure, it passed B's thoughts every once in a while, but for the most part, he felt no temptation.

That was, until Wednesday.

It had been, overall, a rough day. Due to not having someone around to lend an ear for his woes, Bruce had ended up snapping hard at an investor who made snide remarks to one of his employees. That caused a whole slew of drama with him threatening to pull his deal with WE, that was luckily sorted out by Tim in the nick of time.

Then, on his ride home, his driver accidentally hit a pothole a bit too hard, bursting one of the back tires on impact. Of course, the guy didn't have a spare, cause that was just Bruce's luck. So, while waiting for Jason to come and pick him up (Since the car company couldn't send out another driver for an hour, and his son was the closest.) he was effectively bombarded by swarms of fans asking for pictures. You'd think the Brucie hype would've worn out by now. But no, he was still as derisible as ever, such a double edged sword of existence. After all that, of course, his son came to bring him home on that stupid motorcycle of his. He had hoped that his second eldest son would be embarrassed having his father hold his waist the whole ride home, but, unfortunately, he took quite a bit of pride in knowing Bruce was stewing behind him (Plus, the headlines about it always had the group chat in hysterics).

When he finally, finally got home, ready to throw himself into bed to not think of anything anymore, he was informed by Alfred that Damian had not arrived home yet, an hour after school had been let out. A few panicked phone calls later, and it was revealed that his youngest had popped over to Blüdhaven to get some guidance on his homework from his older brother. And while knowing where his child was did calm down his worry, the fact that he hadn't thought to send him a quick text beforehand felt…personal. The boy was barely 13, and Bruce was hoping that he wasn't taking on teenage rebellion yet. (At least it was better than the time he just…went to Kansas to see the Kent's at their farm. The call from his boyfriend's mother asking him if he knew where his son was still sent shivers down his spine.)

But overall, it was just a shit day. As much as he tried to self regulate and calm his emotions, he felt himself worn thin from the amount of bad he had endured, thinking of all the ways the day would've been easier if he had a certain Super around. So it was a welcome surprise when he got a text from Clark just as he launched himself into his bed (after changing out of his outside clothes, obviously.)

He fished his phone out of his pocket the moment he felt the buzz, a small smile gracing his lips as soon as he saw the contact. Clark had kept up his promise of daily updates every moment he could, inspiring Bruce to send a photo or two himself. As he finished putting in his triple password authentications, he opened the messages from his lover. What he was expecting to see was a picture of his lunch, or of the view from the hotel, hell, even another video from the conference where the camera flipped to show an exhausted Clark.

What he wasn't expecting was a full body picture of the man in his swim trunks, looking absolutely delectable.

Every contour of muscle was defined, the low, warm lighting of the hotel room washroom bathing him in a soft glow. Swimsuit hung low on his hips, showing off the cut of his V, and the stripe of soft hair that dipped under his clothing. His arms and chest looking bulked with "farm boy" experience, the best excuse for his alien build. And god, that million dollar smile, like he absolutely knew what he was doing. Just, fucking hell. Bruce was salivating, a torture with having the place he'd usually put his spit thousands of miles away on a work trip. He barely looked at the next one that came in, Clark under some sort of sun cover with Jimmy and Lois smiling in the background (He didn't particularly want to be thinking of his lover's ex wife and coworker at the moment.)

And…fuck, ok fine! Maybe it would be worth it to take a gander at that toy.

He shot off some sort of quick "looking good" message while searching through the drawer with one hand, finding the offending box easily. He was quick to set it up with its charging cable, plugging it into the outlet next to his bed. Getting up to lock his bedroom door, he did his due diligence to pull the blinds closed as well, and lock the balcony too. With his kids caring less and less about privacy, he had to make sure physical boundaries were made. With the room all set up, and him having to simply wait until the toy was charged, he decided to lay back down in bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it could help him.

He wasn't quite questioning why his life had come to this, not yet at least. This obviously wasn't his first rodeo with sex toys, i.e. the drawer he had pulled it from, but this might just take the cake for the most ridiculous one. It even outdid that stupid back massaging wand he'd used, one of those stupidly big corded ones that house wives in the 70s used to get their kick. Alfred had bought for him to help loosen his back muscles when he had started his Batman work, and, well, that wasn't exactly what he'd decided to loosen with it. Well, there was also that tentacle toy he'd bought before he found out that Clark and himself were of a similar…persuasion. He'd driven himself batty (hah!) thinking of all the possible appendages an alien such as himself could possibly have between his legs, only to find out that his equipment was much closer to Bruce's than previously anticipated. Though, it was nice to have someone he could share his shot days with, and the toy was fun for roleplay.

But fuck, this thing was…odd. It was just so stupid looking, and so personally ridiculous. Of course, of all the toys popularized by the public, it had to be one that just so happened to match the vibe of what his lover's genitals looked like. Seriously? He read through the instructions over and over again to take his mind off of things, looking at all the different options for patterns and speeds. It was full of that fake lewd language that was added to make things more salacious, but honestly just made him cringe. It was a sex toy, it didn't need to be described like a porno scene.

Just as he was starting to think maybe this was a bad idea, and he should just throw the whole thing, box and all, into the garbage and tell Clark some lie about it exploding, the light notifying him that it was charging stopped flashing, indicating that it was ready to go. As Bruce let the idea slide around his head a bit, he finally decided that, fine, he was willing to see what this was really all about. For science, yeah. Curiosity sake and all that, as long as this didn't kill his cat.

Pulling it off of its charger, he lowered the lamp on his bedside table, dulling the room to a warm mood light (all that talk about fake lewdness…whatever.). Getting himself comfortable on his back, he decided to just toy around with the item a bit, see how it worked exactly.

Following the instructions he had just read, he turned the toy on, listening to the soft hum of the vibration start, vaguely familiar. It shook softly in his palm, a faint shiver that was barely recognizable, but almost comforting in a way, subconsciously exciting him. The sound of it was different from the usual buzz of his other toys, with a strange mechanical thump due to the silicone over the "sucking" mechanism, but overall, it was pretty quiet. With his detective mind peaked, he decided to investigate a bit further.

Index finger running along the rim of the hole in the center, he could feel the vibrations get just a bit stronger. Sinking his finger all the way into the opening, he felt where the mechanism worked, the circular valve that pumped up and down under a silicone cover, creating the vibrations, and the suckling feeling. Switching out his index for his thumb, filling up the space so it was sealed, he was able to feel the way that the movement could be compared to oral sex. With nowhere for the air to go, and the pump working up and down, it sucked the skin in and out, creating a sensation similar to lips wrapped around a bundle of nerves. Fascinating. Testing out the other speeds, the feeling grew more intense, his thumb being pulled and "sucked" on, vibrations growing quicker. It was unlike any toy he'd used in the past.

Well then…maybe this could be something good.

Turning the toy off, he left the bed to set himself up better, having decided that he really was going to give it a go. After washing it with a soap safe for the silicone, he left it on the bed as he gathered what else he needed. That fancy waterproof blanket he'd bought for an anniversary, some lube in case his slick wasn't enough, and lastly, one of his favorite vibes for good measure, just in case this didn't work out and he needed to pull an orgasm from himself in a sure fire way. With that all set up, there wasn't much else for him to do but give it a go.

Laying himself on the bed, atop his protective sheet, Bruce curled in on himself to remove his pants and boxers, tossing them somewhere in the room. Next was his tank top, joining them in the abyss for him to search for later. Now nude, he spread himself out, thighs opening to reveal his warm center to the world (his bedroom). The cold air hitting his cock sent a shiver down his spine, a realization dawning on him at the same time. He was wet. Not soaked through where every movement is coupled with the sound of a wet 'schlick', but still enough for his slit to glisten with his excitement. Damn, it seemed like even the prospects of using a sex toy picked out by his lover were getting to him. He'd need Clark to fuck him through the mattress when he got home.

With soft, practiced movements, his right hand came down to his cunt, middle and ring finger caressing down his puffy folds. His breath hitched, a quiet "fuck" passing his lips as the fingers came and held his cock. Not stroking it yet, just holding it, warming it up to stimulation. He didn't want to jump in head first without a bit of lead up, being burnt before by his over eagerness. Adjusting his grip, his pointer and thumb joined the mix, gripping his rapidly hardening dick in a loose hold. Slowly, practically rehearsed, his fingers held onto the firm cocklet, stroking up and down along its shaft, him hissing out a held breath. He avoided the head for the most part, stroking up against it with his thumb only once or twice, not wanting to get too far ahead of himself. He wouldn't be able to cum like this, but it still felt good, slow and warm and tingly, melting into his spine.

After a few minutes of those slow, calculated strokes, he pulled his hand away from his cock, wiping it on the blanket under him. His legs relaxed, having tensed under the slow pleasure, but he knew it wouldn't be long before they were tightly strung again. Spreading them apart further, he claimed the abandoned toy next to him, looking between it and his leaking cunt.

Well, it seemed he had nothing else to do but to use the damn thing.

Fingers parting his folds, he pulled them back, putting his cock on full display. His unoccupied hand held the toy, bringing down his body to be in front of his weeping, needy parts. With slow, precise movements, he gently brought the toy to his cock, slipping his slick head inside of the wide hole. Pushing himself in, it swallowed him with ease, his dick almost fitting itself in entirely. The thick part at its root was too wide, pressing up against the lip of the toy. The skin pushed back, bunching around the opening, but his cock fit comfortably inside. With a seal created, the toy was ready to use.

Shakey finger tips found the "on" switch, thumbing over it contemplatively. He was really going to do this. Before he could let the flicker of doubt take over, he turned the vibrator on, the buzz taking over his hands. Immediately, it felt like too much, overwhelmed by the sensation that shot through him from his centre. A yelp passed his lips before he could silence it, heavy breaths following. He felt the downward pull of the mechanism tug his cock in, before the push back up released it, the cycle repeating over and over again in quick succession. He probably should've turned the toy on first and eased into it, but he hadn't thought that the first click would be this intense. Luckily though, as his mind was flooded with memories of Clark between his legs, sucking him down too hard to quick, his arousal mixed with his body getting used to the toys' pressure, and he was able to sink into the pleasure the vibe was running through his body.

It felt nice, strong and consistent, different from the buzziness and thumps of the usual vibrators he'd used. It was all encompassing of his cock, not just against the sensitive tip, but taking in the full shaft of it and playing with all his nerve endings. It was dizzying, such intense pleasure all at once, all over his prick. And the feeling of it, Christ. The way the sucking worked, tugging him over and over again, so similar to oral sex but in a way that was far more…mechanic. It was wonderful, different, but lovely. Bruce could hear himself making soft whines and gentle gasps without meaning to, his lips loosened by such imminent intensity.

While near perfection, it was still missing something. Truth be told, a toy could get the job done, but you miss out on some of the best parts of the real thing. There wasn't the hot slip of skin against skin, feeling the tug of lips and their subtle movements, or the delicious thrill of teeth brushing on soft spots. No mingling of wetness of different viscosities that drips down between the cracks, spit and slick wetting his thighs and ass. There weren't those big, soft eyes looking up at him that were so desperate to show how well they could please him, or the hands gripping his hips, holding him in place. A voice wasn't there to tell him how good he was for them, or how amazing he felt and tasted. There wasn't the variation and inconsistency in laps and sucks and panting warm breaths against his cunt like they're on the verge of that million starlight explosion themselves, just from pleasing him. Instead he had a constant thrumming against his cock, keeping pace with itself. But besides all that, besides the lack of humanness to it, it was amazing.

His hips canted upwards towards the pleasure, wanting to bring it impossibly further down onto his cock. The harsh sparks of good flowed through him easily, his dick twitching happily at the constant stimulation. He couldn't keep his mouth shut, hot pants leaving his lips and breathy whines and curses. It was like the toy knew exactly what to do to keep his lips loosened (both sets really). With the time that had passed, the initial shock had worn off, and the slow, even pace of the first setting wasn't giving that constant zing anymore. He justified easily that he could turn it up to the next setting without his dick feeling like it was being shot off. With a click of a button, he brought it up to the second mode.

And fuck it felt even better, that sharp tug deep in his spine as the stimulation intensified, rolling up the vertebrae to numb his brain. His body followed it, grinding his hips forward into the toy, instinctively trying to fuck into it like he would a mouth.

"Shit!"

He gasped, body fully sinking itself into the persistent thrum. The grip Bruce held on it had tightened as he couldn't help the twitchy movements up into the toy, trying to treat it how he would a lover. All his body was craving over and over again was more, more, more, more. Giving into it, he turned it up again.

But after the initial waves of heady want, spurred on solely by the fact that he was using a sex toy gifted to him by his boyfriend, wore off, Bruce felt those uncomfortable twinges of overstimulation with that move. Now, in theory, he could just lower the speed of the toy back down, but with it solely operating with one button, that would mean having to shut it off and start it back up again (A real flaw in the design to be honest…maybe the toy could be tweaked to add a switch to lower the speed…hmmm…). Unwilling to give up and admit defeat to the pressures of an adult toy, the bat knew that the pressure would feel more comfortable the more turned on he was. An easy fix. His eyes slipped shut softly, mind swirling with possible ideas to help keep himself up.

Immediately, he thought about Clark. About that image he was sent, those dark red board shorts with the yellow trim on the top. God, they were so corny, straight out of a 50s beach movie, where did he even get them- Oooh ok that's a bit too intense, gotta stay on track, Wayne. He thought back to the image, the sharp contours of his muscles, thick arms and weighted chest on display, washboard abs and all. Clearly, a week in the sun was doing him some good. He thought about how the cut of the shorts hugged his thick thighs, how those big legs had bracketed him in place the other night. Shit, yeah, follow that thread. How Clark had pinned him to the bed, how he sat directly over his pelvis, holding the bat's hands down under his knees, one of his big hand holding his legs down, while his other rubbed all over B's cock. Bruce felt a particularly harsh squeeze of his cunt at that, wetness flowing with it.

The toy's pressure evened out nicely with those thoughts, no longer too tight and powerful against his dick. His brain decided to expand on them, since the fantasies were clearly exciting him.

He thought about what it would be like to be there, to be Bruce Wayne while surrounded by so many people with Clark. So many opportunities to tease the super, rile him up to do something with his behavior. Maybe he would've dragged the bat back to their room after flirting with one of the pool boys, catching the way he'd linger around them. Clark always hated that, when eyes would stick to his Bat for too long. His Bat, for him alone. Maybe he'd be hyped up enough to be rough, to drag him to the bed and throw him down on soft, freshly made sheets. The thought made him drip, made his cock thrum.

Clark would pick him up and toss him on the bed with his super strength, not giving him a second to think before he'd climb on top of him, kissing him with that soft growl in his breath, something Bruce was sure was a Kryptonian dominance thing, but the other was not too eager to explore. The bat would melt, feeling that buzzy static that lingered in the alien's spit, something so uniquely his lover's. Just thinking about it now sent thrums down his body into his dick. He clicked the power button again, upping the speed with the intensity of his fantasy.

Clark would fumble with his shorts, practically ripping them off with his advanced strength, too pissed and needy to care about keeping things nice. He'd toss them away, not caring where they'd end up. He'd then grip one of Bruce's legs, hiking it up to give him access. In the real world, Bruce did that himself, looping his unoccupied arm under one of his thighs, lifting his leg up, adjusting his hips. The movement jostled the toy around, breaking the seal that it had around his cock, making the mechanical buzzing louder. Wincing, the bat's expression pinched in on itself, not just at the noise, but at the way the movement made the sensation all the more intense again, sending his nerve endings haywire. He lurched in on himself, groaning a guttural sound of pleasure. If he wasn't so proud, he would have to kiss Clark Kent for getting him such an amazing device.

Going back to the fantasy, he pictured his boyfriend man handling him into position, holding him open. He'd look down at him with those furious eyes, the ones that silently told him how mad he was and how possessive he felt without saying the word. Bruce would say nothing back, keeping his eyes locked on him. Easily, the Kryptonian would take off his own shorts, still holding the bat in place the entire time, having him open and exposed in such a demeaning position as he stripped. God, the humiliation of holding such power in life, but being forced into submission in private, it made Bruce impossibly harder in the chamber of the toy.

With him open and willing, Clark would keep him pried agape, holding his thighs apart as he mounted him. Straddling Bruce's leg so it was between both of his, he'd move up and up and up until his center was positioned over the bat's, making his intent clear without words. There, he would hesitate, like he always did. He'd pause, looking down to his lover, waiting, holding his breath to give him an opportunity to tap out, to call off the whole thing for one reason or another. Without fail and without complaint, every time, Clark would. And even that thought, even just the thought of his boyfriend being a good man and wanting his permission, made Bruce's cunt clench around nothing, the buzzing on his cock feeling that much better.

He couldn't handle that empty feeling anymore. Adjusting the grip on his thigh, B hooked his leg over his forearm before trailing his hand to his cunt, parting the folds further down to toy with the entrance to his cunt. It took some maneuvering, and resulted in another oversensitive jolt from the toy, but a moment later, Bruce's thick fingers were filling his cunt. He immediately curled them, finding his G-spot with ease, pressing it over and over again as he whined. As they fucked into himself over and over again, he returned to the fantasy, imagining how it would feel to have that first harsh grind down of Clark's textured parts on his slick, smooth ones.

The bumps and ridges of his Kryptonian organ, the way those folds would catch on his cock, the warm press of them, it was intoxicating. Every time they would frot against each other, Bruce swore that years were being added to his life. The hot slip of his alien slick, the way it tingled and made his cock come alive, he would never get over it. Even just thinking of the memories now, it was making his pussy drool like a broken faucet, absolutely covering his fingers and knuckles with his arousal.

He wasn't even sure how high up in the settings he was anymore, the feeling so intense around his dick, it was making him cry out like he would normally during sex. Moans falling freely from his lips, words haphazardly strung together to make the semblance of a sentence. Begging to an invisible figure only he could feel through his manifestation of him in his mind.

"C-Clark!" He gasped, hips arching back and forth, riding his fingers, fucking into the buzz of the toy as he moved it on his cock. "God damn it, so fucking good! Yes!" He whined, fully lost in the pleasure his fantasy was providing (Obviously helped by the stimulation)

It all just felt so good, his cock burning with strong thrums of perfect stimulation, alight with a million electrical current taking over his entire body. He was in heaven, brain completely scrambled, light headed in the most perfect way. Everything else was ignored, the ache in his hip, the starting of a cramp in his hands. They didn't matter, what mattered was reaching that ever growing ecstasy blooming in his pelvis, the pressure ever growing.

He fell back into the world, picturing the way his lover would thrust his hips forward again and again and again into his cunt, fucking into him with harsh movement. He'd drag himself completely flush with Bruce's own parts, making him feel every inch his hard cock, every drag of his soaked petals, how they'd cling to him, trying to work him to completion. He'd keep his hold on Bruce strong, holding him firmly exactly where he wanted him. Clark knew just how much his boyfriend loved to be forced to submit, too proud to admit it out loud, yet would melt and stay when he was put in his place. The only thing missing from this perfect tableau would be the world falling freely from Clark's lips.

Thinking of what he'd say. This was the part that Bruce was always bad at coming up with himself, the dialogue of the fantasy, what his lover would say to him. It was always too hard, partly due to his brain melting at all erotic thoughts of his lover into a messy water color, but also because it always felt corny and over dramatic, to think of what words would slip out of his lover's mouth in a moment like this. But what he could settle on, what his mind could easily fall into, was the thought of that growl taking over Clark's words. He could picture them now, the way each word would be lined with teeth, how they'd be punched out with each rut forward of Clark's hips. The possessiveness and need to have a claim over Bruce coating every word. And shit, it was making him dizzy.

It stuck in his mind, thick and syrupy and he wasn't able to shake it from his thoughts. That low deep tone that Clark would use, words spoken like they were meant to hurt but were usually gentle praises or reminders of his beauty. They helped lay the building blocks of that ever tightening pleasure, the way it was building and building, the pressure mounting through his guts. The buzzing pulls the toy was thrumming through his cock were reaching a height of sensation, a new feeling surrounding his dick as his climax approached. It was going to crest, it had to, but something was missing, the need for something that would help tip the scales and push him over that edge, hurtling towards those millions of stars.

His mind found it easily.

It was a memory more than a thing of his own thoughts, something he shoe horned in, pretending he came up with it. The truth was, he almost always thought about this when jerking off, this image that he'd memorized time and time again.

Clark, leaning in close, pressing his lips to Bruce's ear and speaking in that low growl.

"Mine. You're mine."

It toppled all at once. Cords snapping and pressure reaching a peak he couldn't contain. He felt like his orgasm was being ripped from him, torn from his cock with those sucking tugs this god (given) forsaken toy was shaking through him. He was being electrocuted from the inside out with pure currents of pleasure, those tingles of want and need exploding with nowhere to go but out. It felt harsh, almost to the point of wanting to pull the rose away. But he held firm, even as it ripped a shout of pleasure from him, a call to a man who wasn't there.

He barely noticed the way he soaked his hand, squirting down onto his fingers in a weak stream, too dehydrated to do the proper gush he knew he could. His cunt spasmed contentedly, sending harsh pulses of warm pleasure through him, trying to milk a cock that wasn't there, to fill a womb that also wasn't. His own dick for its part was jumping and flexing with his orgasm, twitching with all its might at the intensity, moving the toy along with it. He was sure that this was the most powerful orgasm he'd ever had from a toy and not from being edged or overstimulated, and he was sure he could get addicted to this feeling.

And it was from, of all things, a fucking rose toy.

The ridiculousness of it all brought him back to reality, that overstimulation setting in quickly. He hissed, grunted, and tugged the toy away from his cock, huffing as it loudly made its presence known. Switching it off to silence it, he tossed it blindly next to him on the bed, dropping his hiked up leg with it. Body finally able to relax, he melted into the mattress, hot and spent, exhaustion nipping at his edges. He was fully ready to roll over and turn his lights off, take a midday nap, when he heard his phone buzzing.

Expecting a call from W.E., or his driver, or one of his children, he groaned outwardly, scrubbing his clean hand down his face before he reached over and picked up.

"Hello?"

His voice was rough from disuse, well rather, from shouting, but had a similar grit to it. It was met with a breathy, content sigh.

"God, darling, you have no idea how pretty you sounded."

That voice, where you could clearly hear the smile in it, couldn't be mistaken.

Bruce groaned, covering his face with his palm.

"You listened in, didn't you?"

He asked, blushing as he heard the unabashed giggle. They did have an open door policy where the Kryptonian could listen in whenever unless asked not to.

"How could I not, darling, with you saying my name all nice and sweet like that?" He hummed, clearly affected by what he heard. "I take it the toy was a good gift? It was worth the wait to finally hear you use it, you sounded very pleased with it."

The burn in Bruce's cheeks just kept getting worse, inflamed with his embarrassment. But, once again, two could play at this game. Teasing didn't just come naturally to the Super.

"You know what, yeah, it was really great, Clark." Bruce hummed, leaning back, his hand tucking beneath his head, body lax. "Honestly, I think we found the perfect replacement for you when either of us is away. I mean, I think I could handle not having your flora for at least another week after that." He punctuated the sentence with a chuckle, smiling self satisfied to himself.

What followed was a beat, a silence so long, it started to worry the bat. Obviously Clark had to have known he was joking…right?

A moment later, he was brought out of his worrying by a banging on his balcony window, incessant and desperate…oh boy. Bruce stood on shaky legs, still worn out from his orgasm, and made his way to the door, opening it slowly. In the blink of an eye, he was once again pressed to his bed, a similar scene to his fantasy before him. Clark, pinning him down to the mattress.

The super was taking him in with hungry eyes, feasting on his nude frame. Bruce couldn't help the laugh that passed his lips.

"Clark! Your trip."

The super clasped a hand over his mouth.

"Forget the trip, it was a stupid idea to think I could go a week without you."

He growled, already tugging on his Hawaiian shirt.

They'd call Lois to cover for Clark after this round…

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10 likes and I write trans Bruce Wayne using a rose toy, I am NOT fucking kidding

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Chat it's done and posted! I'm so sorry for it taking so long, school kicked my ass so hard I almost shaved my eyebrows off, but you can read bruce wayne gooning with a tiktok sex toy (plus superbat cause I cannot help myself)

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Alright jayroy lovers, I have an idea I want to write with the boys once I'm done my other drafts, but I need opinions. I won't reveal much other than it being Holiday Season related with dad bod Roy, and I want to know whether I should keep it in the two cis boyfriends world I've already created or if I should switch it up (since I cannot help but make these bitches trans)

Which would you prefer for a Jayroy smut?

Both cis men

Trans man Jason and Cis Roy

Trans man Roy and Cis Jason

Both Trans men

Voting ended onNov 24, 2025

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10 likes and I write trans Bruce Wayne using a rose toy, I am NOT fucking kidding

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No Shortage of Sordid, No Protest from Me

Lois Lane x Clark Kent x Bruce Wayne

Smut, MDNI

Words: 10.2k

Tags: Kinktober, bdsm blowjob, riding, Kryptonian biology

Notes: (I’m so sorry but this fic is so poorly edited lmao) Tying off this Kinktober with a nice little bow, I give you, Clark Kent getting cucked (but he's into it and they're all dating each other.) Was this just an excuse to write Dom Lois Lane? Perhaps. Anyways, thank you all for reading, for your likes, and your comments. Even though I'm not the best at responding to them (I'm very autistic and get too stressed trying to think of what to say), I appreciate them all so much. If you want to read my explanation for the dynamic, you can read it here on Ao3

-

What no ones tells you about mimicking a planets whole sun, is how hot the room you contain it becomes.

If you thought of it for more than a few seconds, it would make sense. I mean, it's the imitation of a sun, a star million of miles away that can still warm the earth, of course any sort of recreation of it is going to be hot. Still, every time Clark ended up in the Red Sun room Bruce had created in Wayne Manor, he would immediately get caught off guard by how toasty it was in there.

Now, it wasn't an unbearable type of hot, like cooking on a stove in the middle of august with no A/C, sweating through your clothes and needing to stand in front of the open fridge while chugging a cola kind of hot. It was closer to the lower end of a sauna, just warm enough to be uncomfortable with heavier clothes on, but stripped down to a tank top and some boxers, and you'd just feel like you're under a nice, warm blanket. Clark definitely could imagine that comforting image feeling slowly get pulled away from him, as a slight dread built up in his stomach.

Having his powers disappear the instant he step foot into the room was one thing, a feeling so foreign he'd often collapse from the loss of strength and endurance as soon as he passed the threshold. But this was an added layer to that discomfort, having his hands currently pinned behind his back, draped over the backrest of an old wooden chair the aforementioned Bat had set up in there. It was odd, feeling a pull at his muscles, an ache building in his shoulders and lower back that didn't immediately disappear, having to sit in a restriction he suddenly just couldn't break on his own. His wrists bound together with an oddly soft rope (it definitely existed solely for this purpose), ankles tied to the legs of the seat. His lack of abilities to facilitate himself getting out of this situation was unnerving, if not a bit exciting, but a very big step out of the norm he'd grown so used to. The sole comfort he had in the moment coming from the fact that his boyfriend was the one that was securing him to the furniture, and that his wife was standing before him, arms crossed, jaw tight and brows furrowed.

She wasn't angry, not really. See, if you knew Lois Lane as intimately as Clark did, you'd know that her emotions were extremely complex on the inside. While outwardly she might seem angry or upset, inside she would be planing, conspiring. Even though she definitely was not pleased with her husband right at this moment (Example: He's being tied to a chair) she was no where near as upset as she could be. No, this was part of the play, the role she played, the little psychological "game" that was supposed to make Clark feel guilty. As much power as she had over him, he stood resolutely against what she was trying to make him feel, not yet willing to stand down from what he'd done.

"Are they too tight?"

She asked, her tone cold and indifferent. The Super wanted to scoff, wanted to roll his eyes and huff like an indignant child. Rather than that, not wanting to worsen his case, he nodded, eyes still locked on hers.

"They're fine."

He replied, pointedly ignoring the chuckle he heard from behind him. Lois' eyes narrowed further, but her gaze moved from her husband finding the figure behind him.

"How many rules did he break tonight?"

She asked him, eyes flicking to Clark's before returning to the other man.

Bruce was giving a final tug to the rope bindings trailing up his arms, making sure they were secure (who knew Batman skills could be used in this setting (everyone to be honest)). If he couldn't undo them that way, he doubted that Clark would be able to while powerless.

"Two." He groaned as he stood. "One with you, and one with me."

'Traitor' the Super thought, looking to the floor with a concentrated gaze. If he had his powers right now, the floor would be toast, lazered into nothing. But he lost access to those when he broke the stupid rule he agreed to and helped write when he entered this dynamic.

You see, prior to the three of them ending up together (a very long story filled with Justice League missions, late night interviews, many a Gala spent together, etc, etc, etc.), Clark and Lois had a established relationship of sorts. With what often felt like the weight of the world on his shoulders, the Super often felt like he never had an out in life. Sure, he had breaks every once in a while, when villains had no new ideas, and no schemes to run, but those were few and far between. Sometimes, he just wanted to turn his brain off for a bit, allow someone else to take control, put him in a place where there were no decisions to be made, and the expectations he would be required to meet were also a way for him to indulge himself as well.

Enter, Lois Lane. Obviously, a woman as strong willed, smart, and amazing as her would be the type that wished to fulfil these types of requirements. Once they started dating, she shared one of her non negotiable. She liked to be in charge when it came to sex, and to a certain extension, she liked to somewhat take control of their lives. Not in an extreme way, not in a way that hurt them. Just, easy to meet expectations that they could set together, that gave her a sort of satisfying pull in the relationship. Barriers that could be set and required to meet with the threat of punishment if not. To Clark, it sounded exhilarating, and exactly what he needed. Simple rules for him to follow, someone to guide him as he went dumb for a bit.

After Bruce joined their relationship, he became privy to that dynamic (Let's not be stupid, he obviously knew about it before. Clark was a bad liar, and Lois knew that Bruce would know and that he could voice if he didn't like her domming his coworker in front of him (he never did)). He, for all intensive purposes, was more than willing to get on board with it. I mean, this is Bruce Fucking Wayne we're talking about. Besides all the other traumas and issues he had, the man definitely was a glutton for punishment. If he didn't have an reputation to uphold (more like if he didn't have children who checked the tabloids constantly.) he'd be at a bdsm dungeon every other day of the week, or walking around with a black hanky in his right pocket. Obviously, he was more than happy to join in.

With that lovely addition, they obviously had to rewrite the rules of their dynamics, needing clear outlines for them all. And, well, some of that bled outside of simply the bedroom and their private relationship, and became rules that they incorporated into every day life. Obviously the scope was very specific, to be used for events that related to all of them. Their outline was specifically built around their every day personas, rules that had to be met to preserve the facade of who they were. And, well, at the charity event the three had attended that evening, Clark had committed not one, but two infractions.

Bruce made his way to stand beside Lois, barely containing his grin. He tossed the white shirt, his white shirt that was removed before he was tied, somewhere in the room without a care. Clark's wife tapped her fingers on her forearm, eyebrows raising in expectation.

"Clark, what rules did you break tonight?"

She asked, gaze level. The Super had to hold himself back from snapping, from explaining himself and every decision he had made that evening down to the socks he wore. He felt like what he'd done had been more than justified, explainable, and rational. But it didn't matter what he thought. He broke the rules in their dynamic, and thus, had to admit to that.

"I broke rule 2, and rule 13."

He sighed, looking from his lap to the pair before him. Lois nodded, making a circling gesture with her hand.

"Which are?"

God, she was making him spell it out, maybe he was in more trouble than he thought. A soft groan left his lips, earning him another look. Oh, he was pushing his luck.

"Rule number 2, no romantic interactions where you can get caught unless risk assessed before hand. Rule number 13, do not push back or disregard a call made for your own protection." He grumbled. "Yes I broke those rules but I assure you they were very justified."

He added, his tone dripping in contempt. Bruce held his jaw, trying to hold back a look. When he wasn't the one in the hot seat, he always got giddy around seeing the intensity between the couple. Lois arched a brow, clearly displeased.

"I don't care how justified you feel, Clark. You broke the rules. You received your warnings, then fought back against them, and this is where that gets you."

As much as he wanted to respond to that with anger and spite, he held his tongue. He hand broken the rules, had ignored the warnings, as as justified as he felt they were, these were the parameters set in their dynamic. When Bruce broke them, he got punished. On the rare occasions Lois did, so would she. He needed to suck it up, and take his lumps (even if the played up vitriol he'd receive in response to his sour behaviour was exciting.)

But how exactly did he get himself in this position? Well, the first mistake he made was going to an event that both his partners were set to have to be at as well. It was some sort of Gotham charity event, something Bruce would set up where a bunch of big wigs would attend and blow a bunch of cash as if it undid all the horridness they did year round behind closed doors. Obviously, Perry had sent two of his top reporters to cover the event, seeing if they could get any sort of hot scoop, or be the first to tell a heart warming story that occurred.

Obviously, Clark's heightened sense of justice in a space crawling with people who were less than kind would result in him doing something to the dismay of his partners.

The first thing that he got in trouble for was making moves towards hounding Luthor to inquire about how much he had donated to the cause, easily a lie that Clark could get him caught in. The worse his public image was, the less people would invest in him, the safer everyone would be. Obviously, when Lois caught him making eyes at the shiny bald head across the room, she placed a firm hand on her husband's chest.

"Clark, don't."

She said firmly, eyes sharper than daggers. He gave her a strong look back.

"Lois, you know how important this is."

She rolled her eyes.

"I do, but we need to approach this with more tact, don't put yourself in danger just to embarrass him."

She noticed the way he wasn't paying attention to her, eyeing behind her. Turning around to see Luthor approaching to move passed them, she gave the Super another cold look, eyes narrowing in a pure gaze of 'don't you dare'.

"Clark I swear to-"

Before she could finish, the man gently moved her to the side.

"Mr. Luthor, if I could just have a word..."

The second infraction happened much later in the day. It's important to note that rule number two in their agreement does have a clause to it. As Lois and Clark are public ally a couple, they are allowed the luxury of a bit of PDA every now and again. But, because the Super had obviously upset her with his actions, she was ignoring his advances, and shutting him down for things as simple as hand holding.

And...well...Clark felt a bit needy, ok?

As much as he likes to pretend that he isn't affected by the silent treatment, he was only human. So, that coupled with the fact that Bruce was looking so fucking handsome in that nice suit of his, the Super decided that if he was already in trouble, why not get his desire for touched filled another way? In for a penny, in for a pound.

Thus, when he found Bruce later alone in the men's room, he didn't stop himself, pouncing on the man and pulling him in for a searing kiss. The Bat didn't push away immediately, pulling his lover close, before remembering where they were. He pulled back, panting against his soft lips.

"We can't be doing this here."

He reminded, stepping back a bit. Clark held him tight against his chest.

"No, please. Lois is upset cause I broke a rule, I just..." he sighed softly. "I need some comfort right now."

And oh ho, that was the wrong thing to say.

Bruce's eyes narrowed, stepping back a second time.

"I will not break a rule with you to replace your wife's affection just because you're feeling guilty. I'm sure she won't be impressed when she hears you've broken a second one."

He growled, straightening out his suit and heading towards the door. For a brief moment before he left, however, they locked eyes through the mirrors, sharing a small look. A look that encapsulated their giddiness, knowing they were playing the game, knowing they were playing their parts. A silent agreement that this disgust and anger was all a part of the scene, that it was something they were both playing into for their own enjoyment. That moment came and went, Bruce leaving the Super alone in the washroom, leaving him to have that giddy anticipation build in him on his own.

Lois stood up straight, brushing her pencil skirt off.

"Two infractions means two punishments." She said, voice firm. "I'm sure you can infer the first one from your position, the second will be physical." She lowered her voice, almost dropping the dominant edge to it. "Impact play is still something you're open to?"

Without missing a beat, Clark nodded, trying to keep the smile off his face. His wife relaxed a bit, a hand reaching out next to her to pull Bruce closer.

"Good. Now…" Her hands trailed up Bruce's forearms, toying with his rolled up sleeves. He'd ditched the suit jacket when he came home (still looking like an expensive meal without it.). "Since you feel the need to pin us up against one another, why don't we do just that, hmmm Bruce?"

She purred, fingers following the arm muscles up and up until she was feeling along his chest. Bruce chuckled a soft sound, arms wrapping around her waist instinctively.

"That sounds like a great idea, Miss Lane."

As much as Clark was trying to keep himself from outwardly showing an regret in his decision, the show going on in front of him was not making that easy. Bruce had engulfed Lois in a tight embrace, holding her close as the two locked lips, kissing with fervor and want. His wife's hands ran up and down the Bat's broad chest, trailing up between his pecs to circle his neck, before dragging them back down the valley between them, sharp nails catching on any exposed skin. He groaned a soft, pleased sound, wanting to pull her in even closer, but didn't want to pin those hands feeling him up so kindly.

The lingering touches slowly became more purposeful, Lois tugging at the buttons, undoing them with a precision that made Clark wonder if she'd taken Bruce's offer of some minor tactical training. They movement became sharper, clearly hungry for each other's skin. She moved to be kissing down the Bat's throat, dragging her white teeth along the ridged of scars and stubble, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to send goosebumps down his skin.

Clark huffed, trying to adjust his legs, move so his growing erection wouldn't be as uncomfortably pinned against his pants. But he couldn't, no relief came to him as he adjusted his legs, a discomfort growing as the scene continued. He watched with rapt attention as his wife pushed the shirt off of his boyfriend, revealing his thick muscles and scarred skin. Nimble hands felt them with appreciation, smiling against his lips.

"So big and strong, do you think you could handle any task I give you?"

She hummed, starting to work on her own shirt. Clark barely caught the way his boyfriend swallowed, breath hitching.

"Yes, miss Lane."

He nodded, trying to keep his eyes locked on hers and not where her hands were.

She tossed the blouse to the floor to join the ever growing pile, adjusting her black bra as she turned away from Bruce.

"Undo the zipper, would you?"

She asked, arching her back slightly toward him. Oh, this little minx. It was the same thing she did that morning when asking Clark to zip it up for her. Jealousy and arousal struck through him at that, but he continued to bite his tongue. He knew talking back would just add to his ledger, and as much as he was into the punishments as the rest of them, he wanted to keep his time confined to the chair at a minimum. There was a reason why this was their go to for him.

Bruce easily worked it down, not even getting it caught on anything (the cocky bastard.). He even held out his hand like a gentleman as Lois stepped out of the fabric pooled around her feet, a vision in her black cotton set, paired with beige thigh highs and garter. There was this game that she and Clark played where she would promise that they were a part of her reporting uniform, that she just liked to keep things classic by wearing them rather than tights, yet she'd also keep them on while they would, subsequently, start fucking later on in the day. Barely glancing over to her husband, she couldn't hold back her devilish grin, seeing him ruddy faced, unable to hide the straining erection in his slacks.

Oh, if just watching them kiss was hard, what was to happen next would be pure torture.

Pulling Bruce back in for another heady kiss, she dragged the two of them to the bed (of course there was a bed in the red sun room for...resting...yeah. You always got a good sleep on black satin sheets.). With her back to Clark, she guided the Bat's hands up her back, leading him right to the buckle of her bra in the valley of her shoulder blades. With the practiced finesse and grace of a burlesque performance, Bruce undid the buckle, helping Lois shed it from her arms, flinging it across the room to land near Clark's feet. Speaking of the alien, he was stunned into a silent grief, biting his lip hard, trying not to groan outwardly at the harsh pinch of his slacks pinning his hard to his thighs in a tight squeeze, feeling the inhumanly harsh ridges catch on the seams.

Crawling into the bed, Lois gestured for Bruce to join her, curling her finger with a frankly evil grin. The Bat complied immediately, never able to deny his girlfriend or boyfriend anything they so pleased. As he was making his way up her body, she stopped him at the top of her thighs.

"Right there is perfect."

She hummed, stroking down his jaw. Her eyes met Clark's again, seeing his pinched expression and obvious jealousy. She could be cruel, call him out for being so upset, yet seeking out comfort in the same person between her legs. But that wouldn't be as fun. Hooking thumbs into the waistband of her panties, she slowly pulled them down her thighs, revealing her achingly wet cunt to Bruce.

"Now, since my husband can't follow simple directions to please me, why don't you show him an example of treating me well, Bruce."

She hummed, finger tangling in his hair, breaking the gel cast that kept it slicked back. He didn't care, didn't move his unwavering gaze from her eyes, sharp blue meeting a gentle lilac.

"Of course, Miss Lane."

He breathed, eyes falling to the perfect warmth before him, framed with dark curls, glistening with a clear want.

Clark wanted to whimper, wanted to whine and thrash and let them know how upset he was, how it wasn't fair. But that would play into the game, that would get him more consequences. He resigned himself to flexing against the restraints, huffing soft breaths of displeasure, watching the show with deep, focused, attention.

Bruce, for his part, was a wonder at his role. It was rare to see Bruce Wayne as anything other than The Batman, an imposing figure, a leader that people would shy away from. When you got to know him, you'd find out that Bruce is actually a pretty kind, suave individual, with just a very dry sense of humour (a dry sense of everything really. It was probably due to some diagnosis that he would never get.) But, there were instances where, for all intensives purposes, he would take on a character unlike himself to appease those around him. For the public, it was Brucie Wayne, playboy bachelor billionaire with a knack for spending money on the right things, and bedding anyone willing to get in the sheets with him. For his partners, it was this, a man so willing to do anything that was asked of him, if it fancied him. He had this sorta bit he liked to play, where if one of them was in the hot seat, he would be happy to do anything to push the other's buttons. If they weren't in a situation like that, well, he would find a way to get his own fun, especially if it meant he would get pushed around a bit. For now, though, he seemed content to let himself go limp, and allow for Lois to guide his face into her cunt.

Clark couldn't stop the soft gasp that passed his lips, nor the way he tugged on his rope bindings. He was barely spared a look, Lois already throwing her head back and sighing out a pleased moan as the Bat engulfed her clitoris with his mouth. With all that experience he had, he knew not to pussy foot around a cunt, especially not Miss Lanes. It was rare for her to prefer those soft kitten licks and rubs of a pointed tongue. She liked when her boys would suck and nip, make out with her pussy like it deserved to be pleased. Neither were ever afraid to go in face first, wet their chins and jaws with her slick. Bruce looked up at her as he pulled back enough to make it pop, Lois groaning as she fisted his hair.

"So good, you know exactly what to do." She hummed. Her breasts, which hand slumped down to the side, were scooped up in her hands, holding them up as she thumbed and pinched the pert bud of her nipples, eyes rolling back and she hummed out a sound. "You want to make me cum? Hmmm?"

She sighed. Bruce nodded, pulling back a bit as if he was going to speak.

"yes mi-"

He was cut off, Lois reaching down and pressing him against her again.

"Ah ah, no speaking with your mouth full."

She teased, head rolling back again as he slurped loudly.

As she was devoured whole, her clit being abused over and over again by Bruce's mouth, her head lolled to the side to see Clark, see him sitting there hunched over, red in the face, a pained look in his eyes. His cock was bunching up his pants awkwardly, clearly causing him some discomfort. He guesses it was part of the punishment, to not just be left out but left out and dealing with the literal pain of his own arousal. Their eyes met, a soft smile finding Lois's lips.

"Tell me-" She panted, back arching into the Bat's mouth. "Tell me how you feel, Clark, how jealous you are, that another man is touching what's yours, doing your job for you."

She hummed, already having read the man like a book. The Super swallowed, wanting to sink to the bottom of his seat. Not only was his wife waiting to hear his pitiful grovelling at how much he regretted his decisions, but his boyfriend was listening from between her legs despite being, uh hum, busy. As much as the humiliation was eating at him, that sick thrill of being the odd man out, the one left to the side, made to watch as someone else took his place, sent those tingly goose bumps up his spine. With an over dramatic sigh (he had the right to be a little dramatic about this) he breathed.

"I wish I was the one pleasing you right now, ma'am. I wish I could taste you, or share your cunt with him. I want to lick his spit off of your skin, have us both make you good. It should be me there, but I-"

He huffed, looking back up at her.

Lois was definitely close, hips jacking upwards into Bruce's lips, fingers digging into his scalp so much that he was whining into her pussy.

"You- oh god - you what Clark."

She growled, almost fucking the Bat's face. And shit, it was hard to concentrate when seeing a sight like that. Swallowing the spit in his mouth, Clark breathed.

"I'm sorry...I felt justified in the moment but I shouldn't have broken our rules, even just to rile you up." He breathed. "Please let me make you feel good ma'am. Please, I'll be so good. I want to make you both feel so, so good."

He didn't realize he was starting to get emotional. Something about the ache of his arms and his dick, the intoxicating thrill of that deep humiliations pooling in his stomach, the lewd sounds their lover was making as he sucked Lois into his mouth, and tongued at her sensitive pearl. It was too much, his eyes misted with emotion, his heart cracked with a soft devotion.

"Please"

He hiccuped.

And something about that, something about her husband showing actual remorse, submitting himself to a power they all accepted her as having, and literally begging to get to make her feel so good she'd cum, broke that rubber band in her abdomen that had been growing, and growing, with tension. Be pulled Bruce impossibly closer, thrusting her hips up, his head following, as she came down on his face. Back arched, toes curled, grinding her pulsing, sopping cunt directly into his mouth and nose, she rode out her orgasm as her fluttering eyes tried to stay on Clark, watching her with an awestruck look. They both were, both looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing they'd ever seen (she was.) She kept Bruce there, kept palming at her sensitive nipples, until those shocks of overstimulation took over, her having to pull the Bat away to get away from them. With a final sigh, she looked down at him, chuckling softly.

"Fuck, that was good."

She hummed.

They both laid there for a moment, letting the moment fizzle away, eyes holding a quiet exchange. Clark, unable to hold himself back anymore, whined softly. His dick was too hard, but he could handle that. His wife had just gotten off with another man, but he could handle that. He had just been left out of amazing sex, but he could handle that. What he couldn't handle, was watching his lovers cuddle and make goo goo eyes at each other without letting him join in. Now that was unfair. Lois was broken from her quiet talk with Bruce with a soft laugh, looking over to the Super with a exhausted smile. Glancing back down to the Bat, she nodded her head to him.

"Can you untie him, please?" She hummed. Bruce didn't respond, just nodding before he stood. As he approached the chair, she spoke to the ceiling. "Don't think you're off the hook yet, Clark, you've still only had one of your punishments."

Oh, how could he forget that. The implication of her earlier question still loomed above them.

As Bruce undid the restraints, leaving gentle kisses onto the reddened skin of his wrist, Lois finally sat up, hands rubbing down her thighs. She watched as Clark rubbed his wrists, not used to the aching. That did send a soft pang in her heart, seeing her husband in discomfort. She was only human after all.

"Is everything still ok? We can continue?"

She asked in a gentle tone, catching his attention. Clark looked at her for a second, taking in his faculties, and how he was feeling. Despite having been pushed into a more submissive state than he was used to, he was still enjoying the experience and the scene so far. With a soft nod to his head, he stood from the chair once his legs were free.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm feeling alright. I'll let you both know if that changes."

He hummed, calming something deep within both of them. Seeing how far your limits were could be fun, but it is always important to check back in and make sure everyone is still on the same page.

With that covered, Lois sunk back into her thought, a smile that could only mean she was up to no good on her face. Rubbing a hand along her nylon covered thighs, she jerked her head towards Clark.

"Come on over here, I'm sure I don't have to spell it out for you."

She purred, the implication hanging in the air for them all to see. Clark swallowed, looking down to her lap and then glancing back to Bruce. It wouldn't be the first time he'd be strung out across his wife's lap, definitely not the last, but the twinge of humiliation mix with the thrill of what he knew was to come sent a deep blush across his face. Wordlessly, he took small, uneasy steps to the bed, legs feeling loose, struggling at the feeling of his cock brushing the front of his pants. Once in front of her, Lois reached out and started undoing the buckle of his pants, undoing the zipper and alleviating some of the pressure

"Y'know-" She started, pushing his slacks down his strong thighs, holding his hand as he stepped out of them. He couldn't stop a sigh of relief from passing his lips, but the Super forced himself to tune back in. "Bruce still hasn't gotten off."

She hummed. It took Clark a second to understand what she meant, before it dawned on him that, yeah, Bruce was probably standing behind him just as hard as he was. He man nodded softly at the statement. Lois gently reached up and cupped his face, looking over his features for any sign of discomfort.

"I think-" She dragged a thumb down his lip. "You should put that mouth that can't help but get itself into trouble to good use."

She hummed, starting a truly wicked smile up at him. Clark looked at his wife with wide eyes, a bit bewildered. She couldn't mean…

"At the same time?"

He croaked, barely sparing a glance to the Bat. Bruce himself was looking a bit taken aback, but definitely didn't seem against the idea.

"Is that a problem?"

Lois hummed, pulling at Clark's leg to help him climb on the bed. Despite the earlier discomfort…it was not. He gulped, shutting his eyes as he got his faculties in order.

"No ma'am."

Clark sat straddled on Lois lap as his wife patted the spot next to her on the bed, urging their boyfriend to join them. Of course, Bruce didn't hesitate to take his seat, cuddling up next to the woman. With a firm hand, she stroked down Clark's cheek again, smiling up to him.

"Since you took your other punishment so well, I'll be a bit nicer for this. Instead of using a paddle, I'm going to be spanking you open palm until you're able to get Bruce to cum. That sound alright, sweetheart?"

The Super gulped at the prospect, feeling a heady thump of arousal shoot through his body. As daunting as it seemed, it made his stomach clench in desire.

Pain was always something so foreign to him. He could vaguely remember the sting of scraping his knee as a child or the bite of closing his finger in something, but they were distant memories that he couldn't quite put to his mind. Sure, he could feel the discomfort of someone throwing a car at him, but that felt like a punch to the jaw in a normal human pain threshold (if anything, Bruce was far more impressive of a hero, being able to take blows and gunshots and keep going.) So for him to be in this state, no longer having his powers buffer the sensation of pain, it was exhilarating to get to revel in it. To be in a compromising position, laid over his wife's lap like a child getting a scolding, while his mouth would be stuff with the hot, heavy cock of his lover? It sounded so raw and foreign and exciting. Slowly, he nodded in understanding.

"Yes, ma'am."

He breathed, a twinkle in his eyes. Moving in a languid crawl, he laid across both their laps.

He lay across Bruce's lap, barely holding himself up on all fours. Their eyes met, icy pale blue and a deep cyan exchanging a looks of pure devotion and excitement. As the Bat leaned forward to press a kiss to his chapped lips, Lois reached out and held his head back by a handful of hair, hearing him hiss. He looked to her with desperate eyes, wanting to know what he did.

"He hasn't been good enough for that yet." She hummed, smoothing a hand down his scalp. "You can only use his mouth to please you right now."

Bruce nodded, looking to Clark with an almost softened gaze, before it returned to being stern, something more of the Bat than of himself.

Clark started to undo the buckle of Bruce's pants, holding back a shiver as he felt his wife start to tug down his underwear, having the band brace underneath his firm glutes. The sensation distracted him a bit, causing him to fumble the buckle, but he got himself back on track, pulling the tongue free. Popping the button and pulling the fly down, he looked up at the hooded eyes watching him, stroking through his curls so sweetly.

"That's good, Clark, keep going."

He breathed. The alien did just that, ignoring the anticipation building in him as Lois rubbed the right side of his ass so sweetly.

Reaching into the waistband of his boxer briefs, the Super gripped the firm cock waiting for him, slipping the elastic band bellow his balls, groaning as it stood proud without his help. If he wasn't in his current position, he'd probably say something about how desperate Bruce most likely was, but that was a bad idea in his current predicament. He stroked the cock once, twice, before leaning forward and taking his mouth to it.

Ever the one for timing, at the same time of him doing this, Lois finally raised her hand from his ass and lowered it back down with a firm smack, sending a jolt through the Super. The shock at the impact made him sink down further onto the leaking member, taking almost the whole thing into his mouth. Bruce groaned, doubling over before leaning back with a sigh.

"Fucking Christ."

He sighed, chuckling a bit. Clark recovered quickly, taking the opportunity to slowly pull himself off of the cock, letting his lover feel every inch of his velvety throat. The man's moan in response was accented with another slap to the Super's ass, a blow to the opposite cheek.

Lois switched between the two, laying harsh "THWACKS" onto both sides of his ass as Clark made himself go lax, moving up and down along the cock. He always had a natural talent at sucking cock, flesh or silicone, since Kryptonians didn't have a gag reflex. He could take anything into his flexible gullet with no struggle at all, his erotic party trick. For Bruce, it was heavenly, feeling tight, silken walls engulf you completely, the twitching of the tongue, the harsh glide of the teeth. And now, having it highlighted with the odd contraction when a blow came down on his cheeks? He was starting to loose that composure he was always so dead set on ensuring he had.

Clark's ass was starting to develop the prettiest bloom of red, Lois smiling to herself at her work. She'd lost count long ago, transfixed by the sight of his body changing with each hit, and watching her lovers interact. Palm tingly in that itchy thrum after laying a good hit, she felt hypnotized by watching her husbands body react. The relax recoil and jiggle with each slap, something that would usually be reduced when Clark had his powers (maybe man of steel wasn't such an exaggeration). The pretty bloom of soft pinks and reds, a hint of purple where she'd hit the hardest. It wasn't exactly in the shape of her palm since she was moving the blow around so much, but the streaks of her fingers could barely be seen.

Her other hand moved to Clark's head, fingers tangling in his curls. She started guiding him up and down along the cock much to the delight of the Bat. He was groaning and basically whining, trying not to wriggle and thrust, as Lois held his head down on the cock as long as he could take it, delivery spank after spank, making it his mouth feel like a twitching cunt. It was pure, ecstatic torture, Bruce knowing that he had no horse in the race of trying to last as long as possible.

She pulled his hair to take him to the tip, Clark breathing in a deep gasp, hiccuping as she spanked him again.

"You want to make him cum sweetheart? Want Bruce to feel good?"

She taunted, making sure he was looking up at the Bat. Clark nodded, whining softly at the pain at both ends of his body.

"Y-yes, I want to make you both feel- Ah- Good!"

He whined, fingers digging into his boyfriend's thigh. Lois chuckled, pushing his head back down.

"Be a good boy and suck on his tip, look into his eyes like he likes."

Clark did just that, hollowing his cheeks and sucking on the leaking tip, looking up at Bruce with desperate eyes. The Bat groaned, head tipping back, his own eyes screwing shut. Oh that wouldn't do, he wasn't allowed to escape the over stimulation of being overwhelmed.

"Eyes on Clark's, Bruce."

She growled, laying a particularly harsh slap on his tender skin, making the vibrating whine buzz around his skin.

He groaned, looking down at the Super. He was barely containing himself from thrusting up into that tight heat, so desperate to cum into that warm, wet mouth. Lois started guiding Clark up and down it again, pausing at the top to let him lap at the sensitive glands. Bruce couldn't stop himself anymore, twitching upwards with their downwards motions, pulsing his hips when he was on his tip, feeling that contraction deep in his stomach, his balls tightening up below him.

"Fuck, please Miss Lane, please can I cum?"

He asked, knowing he needed permission.

She pulled the Super's head up, having him lap right at the sensitive tip, knowing it was pure agony while he tried to hold that ever growing pressure. After a few beats, she acquiesced.

"Go on, cum." Before he did though, the two men heard the following command. "Clark, do not swallow."

With that permission, the flood gates opened in Bruce's pelvis. His back arched backwards, head tipped all the way back as he came long steady ropes of his spend into the Super's mouth. Clark listened to his last command, holding it in his mouth. It was difficult, having to focus on not loosing a single drop as Bruce fucked into his lips, and Lois laid the last few spanks to his tender flesh. He wouldn't be able to sit properly until he got some yellow sun. The shots coming in pulses started to slow, only small trickles being added to the flood in his mouth, before the Bat made sure to slowly pull himself from his lips, his lengths softening. He sighed, leaning back on his arms and groaning.

"Shit"

He chuckled, Lois smiling with him as she rubbed a soothing hand on Clark's bright red cheeks.

But that was the least of the Kryptonian's worries. Not when he had a mouth full of spunk, the amount of fluid rapidly growing as his mouth watered along with it. Lois must've sensed this panic building in her husband, as she was soon shushing him, guiding him to sit up. She ran gentle fingers through his hand.

"You can kiss now sweetheart. Why don't you show Bruce how good he tastes, hmm?"

She hummed. And fuck, yeah, he'd love to do that.

Bruce leaned in with no qualms, gripping Clark's face as they kissed harshly, his tongue immediately delving into the warmth. He was always so desperate for this, loving the taste of any spend he could get in his mouth. Such a god damn cum slut, always trying to hide it until he had the opportunity to taste it. Even his own, especially his own. He swallowed the mixture of spit and semen greedily, groaning against the other's lips. Clark let out little sounds himself, mostly spurred on by Lois dragging her nails across the tender skin of his ass. His nerve endings were singing, and the way that the wetness was spreading around his mouth, down his chin and dripping onto his chest was overstimulating him was making it worse.

Bruce and him kissed until almost every drop was transferred from his mouth to the other, the Bat being the one to pull away, smiling at the string of bodily fluids the connected them.

Clark shuddered out a held breath, panting as he tried to center himself through the hazey feelings. It was good, just a lot of good all at once, hard to pinpoint anything when his brain was going a mile a minute. Shutting his eyes tight and taking deep, calming breathes, his partners swooped in to help him relax. Lois gently shushed him again, pulling him against her chest as she stroked down his back so sweetly. Bruce, always a bit hesitant when it came to things like this, scooted up behind them, helping them both lay down on the silken sheets. He pet heavily down Clark's side, kissing at the back of his neck, wordlessly comforting him. The Super's wife was whispering sweet nothings, gentle "you did so good"s and "we love you so much"s. The large man melted into their grasps, letting his overwhelmed mind truly turn to mush, ignoring the deep, throbbing want between his legs to allow his mind a few moments of rest.

After giving Clark a few minutes to calm down, Lois gently nuzzled her head into his neck, pressing soft kisses to his sensitive skin.

"Do you want to keep going?" She asked in a sweet voice. "You can cum any way you want sweetheart, or we can be done."

She breathed. The Super took a deep breath, cracking his eyes open slowly. Looking down to his wife, he thought about the question for a moment. He glanced back at Bruce, who was looking at him with that sorta pleased look that was just barely, barely a smile. He knew that the Bat would most likely be done for the evening, having not prepped himself with necessary measures (Taken his Viagra...don't get kicked in the nuts once a week for 15+ years, it has consequences), but even when he wasn't an active participant, he loved to watch the two get it on. Looking back to Lois, he sighed a soft sound.

"Could you...if you want obviously, but could you ride me?" He asked in a small voice. "I just...I want to feel you."

He breathed. Lois smiled, nuzzling his chest, pressing kisses to the skin.

"Of course, handsome."

Sitting up, she straddled the Super's abs, immediately pulling him in for a heated kiss. The taste of her lover's release and his spit was still lingering on his tongue, sending little thrill of excitement down into her womb, spreading through her cunt. She cradled his face as their tongues intertwined with one another, Clark whining and whimpering, so happy to finally get loved on. Down the side of his neck, Bruce was pressing gentle kisses to his tendons, nipping love bites that finally would bloom and stick to the skin, not disappear withing seconds. They'd only last until he got yellow sun again, so he'd have to revel in leaving his mark on his lover for the time being.

Lois started trailing down the wide expanse of his chest, looking up at him through her lashes, pretty eyes shining in the low light of the room. She trailed down and down and down, kissing his pecs, his ribs, his abs, before she was nuzzling his happy trail, fingers pulling down the fabric of his underwear until it was fully off his legs.

Kryptonians had mostly similar internal and external biology to humans, with a few internal differences, such as the ones that facilitated powers on earth. However, one of the biggest and most obvious difference was their genitals. It was a similar structure, a shaft, glands at the top, and testicles that hanged heavy near the bottom, but the differences were visual and obvious to see. Their size tended to lean on the larger side, thinner near the bottom before flaring out into a girthy shape. You'd be stuffed trying to take it all. Thick, bumpy ridges ran underneath the length of it, following a pattern similar to alocasia leaves (as Bruce so sexily pointed out once). They were theorized to stimulate some sort of internal nerves endings for the opposite sex of the species.

The other major difference was the head of the cock. Unlike humans having a ridge of foreskin that could be pulled back, Kryptonians had a sort of petaled skin around their cock head, that, when stimulated, would open and "bloom" to reveal the tender nerve endings of the head inside. They would go from a tight, rigid protection to soft and lax, able to be slid down to access the head. The first time Lois saw it, she accidentally blurted out that it looked like something out of a sci-fi show, which lost her sex privileges for a month (until Clark watched it with her and...yeah he understood what she meant.) The excess skin, also alight with those sparks of stimulation, would create such a beautiful drag inside his partners, and with the added texture of the underside, it was no wonder they were able to skip toys and go straight to their own alien cock.

Clark's dick shot up once freed, standing proud against his stomach. The inner petal of the skin were pooled with precum, much stickier and less mucus like than human's closer to tree sap or nectar. Before Lois even had to say anything, Bruce shuffled over with a bottle of lube, coating the cock for her like the gentleman he was. Clark groaned, head tipping back slightly, eyes watching with a hazey sort of look. He wanted to thrust up into that firm, calloused grip, but was too spend, his lack of endurance having taken its toll on him. He needn't worry, his lovers could do all the work for him. Bruce took the excess and gently stroked through Lois's folds, making the woman hiss.

"Wow, honestly I don't think you need any lube, you're soaked."

He teased, earning him a sharp look.

"Don't act like we're out of the scene yet, Bruce. I can take you over my knee just as easily."

She snapped, shuffling back until she was over the tick length. Bruce held his hands in surrender, chuckling softly.

"My apologies, miss Lane."

As Lois got herself into position, Clark startled up a bit.

"W-wait, you haven't, we didn't do much prep." He panted, so clearly excited to be inside his wife, but so, so worried for her. "It's gonna be too much."

She gently shushed him again, sitting up to be face to face with him.

"I'm a big girl Clark, I can take my husband's cock." She promised, sitting back to gently grind against the bumpy ridge. The Super's head tipped back, an unrestrained, guttural moan falling from his lips. "Let me take care of you, sweetheart."

Clark was too brain dead to respond, nodding softly as he let his body be taken over with pleasure.

Sitting up on her knees, she took the length in her hand, and guided it to her dripping hole. She dragged the tip through her folds a couple of times, watching the way Clark would squirm and pant, arching before hissing in pain at the sheets dragging against his raw skin. Finally deciding he had enough, she took the tip to her cunt, slowly pushing it in passed her tight entrance. The elastic muscles of her opening strained a bit as he breached her, causing a soft sound to leave her lips (Clark might've been right about needing just a touch more prep, but she wasn't going to tell him that), before she was pushing him in farther and farther. The Super's head was thrown back, unabashed cries leaving his lips as he was surrounded by the tight heat of his wife's pussy, wet and warm and so fucking perfect.

She moved slowly, thighs tense as she lowered herself down the shaft, taking it all the way inside of her. The could feel the way his petals folded and bunched inside her, her rim catching on each bump on the ridge underneath. It was so much texture to take along with the size, but her cunt took it in stride, swallowing every inch of him until she was sitting on him, balls pressed to her ass.

Clark was shaking, truly actually shaking, looking up at his wife with watery eyes. He had been waiting so long for this, so long for this tight squeeze to envelop him. His hands searched the bed for something to grip, so accustomed to not being able to hold his lover's hips in fear of bruising them. Instead of gripping the slippery sheets, he felt rough, slightly cold hand envelop his. Looking over, his boyfriend smiled softly to him, pressing more kisses down the side of his face.

"She must feel so good, huh?"

He breathed against his ear, eliciting a whine as he nibbled it.

Lois smiled, hands trailing along the thick muscles of his chest.

"Can I start moving, sweetheart?"

She asked softly, trying not to move too much as he settles himself. After a brief pause, Clark was nodded, looking up at her with watery eyes.

"Please do."

That was all the permission she needed.

With controlled movement, she pulled herself back up on her knees, the same things occurring internally in reverse. His folds of petals pulled back into shape, the ridges pulling the thin outter membrane of her of her pussy taut. Both groaned at the delightful drag, their nerves alight with desire. Once at the top, she dropped herself back down again, much harsher this time, earning herself a low, desperate groan. Her chest heaved heavy with each deep breath, keeping herself balanced as she picked up the pace. Moving up and down on the hard cock between her legs, bosoms bouncing with each harsh drop. What a sight to behold.

She planted her hands firmly on Clark's chest, using the leverage to work herself along the length, taking it to the hilt again and again.

"C-Clark, shit, you're so amazing!"

She groaned between her pants and moans, trying to keep up with her own pace. The Super was already too gone to respond, eyes locked on her and her body as she fucked herself on him again and again. All he could do was lay back and moan and whimper, making those pretty sounds as he watched his wife work them both up.

She kept trying to chase that pool of desire deep in her stomach, but, since she wasn't blessed with alien abilities nor trained for years, it was becoming difficult too keep up with the pace she needed to get herself off. In an instant, her eyes caught Bruce's heavy gaze.

"A little help here, Bruce?" She groaned, slowing her pace slightly, despite the desperate whimpers of her husband. "Make yourself useful instead of enjoying a free show?"

The Bat chuckled, biting one last little mark into Clark's skin before sitting up and crawling towards the end of the bed.

"We'll have to get you to start training if you want to keep on taking such large endeavours like this, Miss Lane."

He teased, earning a swat to the arm.

Easily, he kneeled between Clark's legs, shuffling around until he was comfortable. The Super watched as his lover wrapped one arm around her waist, the other coming down over her hip, not simply to brace her, but to lower a hand between her legs, fingers petting softly at her mound, asking for permission. When Lois nodded breathlessly, his fingers gently stroked her aching clit, the tightening of her cunt putting stars behind Clark's eyes.

He was easily able to hold her up, gently raising her along the dick, smiling as the two moaned in satisfaction, before he was lowering her back down, watching Clark's toes curl, and back bow. Knowing that this was working for both of them, Bruce picked up the pace where Lois had left off, bouncing her up and down on the Super's dick, rubbing his fingers quickly on her clit in tandem. The two moaned at his work, holding up his girlfriend's head as she succumbed to the pleasure of being stretched on her husband's dick. No worries to keep a pace, no need to life a finger. He was practically using her body as a fuck toy for Clark, the thought sending those heady pulses through his pelvis, that pressure starting to build up inside him.

The room was a symphony of slick sounds and the applause of flesh hitting flesh. The flutter of Lois's cunt around him was sending shocks to his system, making his body flex and curl with those pulses of pure, intoxicating electricity. She wasn't doing much better, the refined and dominant persona she took on during sex melting away as she was being fucked dumb on her husband's cock. That coupled with Bruce's ministrations on her body, abusing her clit with rough strokes, biting up along her shoulders, marking her as well, she let herself go completely limp in his grasp, letting him work the two of them over. A particularly tight squeeze of her walls was making Clark realize how tight that feeling in his pelvis was getting.

Of course, with having his wife take him to the hilt again and again, Clark had no expectation for himself to last. Having been so worked up before also had a hand in that. But watching them, watching Lois as she huffed and mewled being filled over and over again, having her clit played with, watching Bruce work her over, gnawing and licking her skin with devotion, using his strength to get them both off, it was too much. The pressure building inside was going to blow. With an arch to his back, he tried to regain control of the lead heavy tongue in his mouth, it was already so hard to think, of course it would hard to speak.

"I...*ah, ah*, Lois, ma'am, please I need to- can I?"

His half baked thought were leaking of his ears, slurring a mess of words. It was alright though, his lover's knew what was happening to him. Lois nodded her head harshly, hands clawing at his abs, leaving trails of nail marks.

"Yes Clark, please, fill be up baby. I need you to flood my cunt."

She cried, whining as Bruce's fingers quickened impossibly. Those lewd words, and the permission was all he needed to let go.

Hips canting with each spurt, Clark came hard into his wife's cunt, letting out wave after wave of thick, sticky, Kryptonian cum into her tight walls. It drooled out of him in heavy spurts, being fucked into her with every bounce she was lowered to do on her husband's dick. He was shaking again, vibrating and crying out as those sharp pangs of arousal rolled through him in waves, pleasure being ripped from his body. Every muscle was clamped down tight, his hands almost ripping through the fabric of the bed even without super strength. His eyes shut, unable to focus as those fireworks went off in his brain, pure ecstasy washing through him. He could barely hear Lois crying out in her own pleasure, the deep timbre of Bruce's voice comforting him through his orgasm. It flowed through him for a while before those sharp stings of overstimulation took over, and he was pawing at his wife's hip.

He felt Lois stop bouncing up and down on his cock, well, Bruce stopping his bouncing of her. Instead, she kept his softening cock inside as Bruce rubbed fast and hard on her clit, making her scream out sounds of pure pleasure. While Clark was a bit uncomfortable with his sensitive cock being milked as her pussy contracted with pleasure, he stayed still, holding her waist as she was brought to climax as well, clamping down hard on him as she was.

Bruce kept his movement up, working her through those blooming flutters of her orgasm pooling out, like the ripples in water how they came strong until the fizzled slowly. Once over, she pulled his hand away with a groan, slumping forward, needing to be caught. Bruce helped her off of the dick, watching in delight as the mess of fluids spread across their lower bodies. He guided Lois to be laying, her crawling up like an un-agile toddler and landing face first into her husband's chest.

The two stayed glued to each other in a mess of slick and sweat and cum, panting as they caught the breath, having Bruce's big, comforting hands stroke down their sides as they came down. Clark was the first to open his eyes, meeting Bruce's gaze. The Bat smiled, running a hand down his cheek before kissing him softly, melting into his touch.

"Was that good."

He whispered when they pulled away, making Clark smile. Before he could respond, Lois interjected, groaning.

"It better have been. I'm going to be walking funny for days." She mumbled, gently bitting Clark's chest. "Next time we do that, Bruce is taking the Krypton dick."

The two men laughed, well Bruce laughed, all Clark just giggled softly, still too fucked out without his powers. He gently stroked his wife's hair, leaning forward and kissing her gently as well.

"It was amazing. Thank you, both of you." The air hung heavy for a few moments before he spoke again. "I'm sorry for...being a brat. I just...y'know how it is."

He sighed.

Lois gently stroked his cheek smiling.

"Believe me, I do. With the big bad Bat over there, I know how tempting acting out to get what you want can be."

She teased. Bruce made a quite, offended, hum.

"I would argue that I am just proactive in this dynamic."

He said, tone full of that rich kid asshole energy. Lois rolled her eyes, snuggling up closer to Clark.

"You say proactive, I say a pain in my ass."

She sighed. Bruce chuckled.

"I'd say the real pain in the ass is what Clark is going through."

The Super chuckled, laying back against the pillows.

"Yeah, if I don't get to some yellow sun soon, I think I might start crying for real." He breathed. "I seriously don't understand how you guys can handle this every day."

The two humans laughed, rolling their eyes.

"Oh woe is me, I'm Clark Kent and I can't handle a spanking."

Lois teased, Bruce playing along.

"Stubbing my toe without my powers would send me into shock. I am but a delicate flower."

The ribbing went on for a few more minutes, before the three got cleaned, and settled in Bruce's bed, blinds open, watching as Clark healed under the warm sun.

[silver-lined-pages]

Well Concealed in Secret Places

Hal Jordan x Barry Allen

NSFW-18 and over-MDNI

Words:

Tags: Smut, t4t, washroom sex

Notes:Hello! This is my first time writing this ship so apologies if this isn't the best. Also yes, once again, these bitches are transgender LMAO. I saw so much bigender Hal stuff due to that one Spectre comic, and I could not get the worms out of my brain. So I flip between She/They/He due to that. And Barry is a trans man because I can do what I want and that bitch has T-Boy energy. Anyways, don't have sex in public bathrooms, its gross, but please do enjoy this. You can read it here on Ao3

-

Five.

Barry had been counting since the clock had struck midnight on New Years day of all the stupid and embarrassing things he had been caught doing because he had been dragged into it thanks to the convincing of one Hal Jordan. That number was five. It wasn't even fucking April yet.

And it was really starting to seem like tonight, he was trying to get that number to six.

"Hal just shut the fuck up and get to it, I don't want to get caught."

He panted, back pressed against the rickety metal of a washroom stalls door. The lantern rolled her eyes, pulling her jacket off and moving Barry to the side to hang it up.

"We're not gonna get caught." She assured, cockiness and self confidence oozing from her low tone. "I'm sure those 'fastest man alive' claims are true."

Barry grumbled, pulling his own coat off and throwing it onto the hook with hers. Seems like they had time for jokes.

"They can be, if you don't get whiskey dick, sweetheart."

He teased right back. She shot him a look, a fire in their eyes now.

"Oh you fucking…get over here."

They growled, closing the distance between them in two steps.

It was moments like these that, despite her incessant need to put him in embarrassing situations (seriously, five. In three months, she'd done it five times!), Barry understood why he still stuck with Hal so closely. When she pinned him against the wall of a gay bar washroom that was more graffiti than paint, immediately pushing her knee between his legs, he knew deep down that he was so thoroughly whipped that he could never dream of wanting anyone other than her.

They weren't weren't a couple. Well, not officially. They went on dates, they were always each others plus ones, they both used their time off to be together, and, well, they did this. Fucked the ever living hell out of each other. But they've never labelled it, never confessed feelings outside of attraction for one another. It hurt Barry a bit, to feel like he was on the outskirts of Hal's life, but he never wanted to ask for more from her. She was so funny and smart and cool and interesting and part of an space corp, (not to mention, gave him the best sex he had ever had in his life), and fuck, he couldn't throw all that away just because of some stupid emotions. So, as Wally had put it so eloquently, he was stuck in a "situationship" with the person of his dreams, until she made the first move. It was the most lovely pure hell he could experience.

But always trailing along with them meant the two of them would end up in situations like these.

Earlier in the evening, before the two had stumbled into a stall together, they had been in (mandatory) attendance at the Justice Leagues annual fundraiser Gala, an event that essentially described itself. To be able to hide all links from the members who utilized their own money to fund the Leagues operations (Since Oliver and Bruce were essentially playing a game of chicken of who could sink the most of their net worth into this thing), they held the event once a year to collect donations through tickets to the event, door prized, the like. While they usually did rake in a lot of cash, the majority of the money wouldn't actually be used for their operations, that was handled. It usually was poured back into other foundations that could help in their own communities, charities in Central City and Metropolis, shelters and social programs in Gotham, rebuilding efforts in Coast and Star City (Ollie was the one who though of it, and was pretty proud of himself.) It was nice to be able to give back, all while creating a bit more security within their identities.

Throughout the night, there would be a rotating cast of heroes in attendance (since it would be silly to keep them all in the same place at the same time), that would announce things like door prizes, honour the highest donors, do interviews to answer pressing questions for a fee. Bats was always in charge of the schedule, making up the order on who went on when. He usually took the earliest slot himself, then either headed back to the Gotham streets, or found his way into the crowd as Brucie while Nightwing wore the suit. That system usually worked out for him. But for others, it was a lot. Having to organize when you'd get there with the Zetas, do some stage work, deal with all those eyes on you. Barry absolutely hated having to talk in front of all those rich folks, he was far more comfortable talking about forensics to a group of colleagues, not receive praise and announce a number from a hat.

Obviously, he complained about these things to Hal. Pressed against her chest, post coitus, he grumbled out how much disdain he had for the whole event, debating what he could do to not have to be a part of it this year. His accelerated healing made it so he couldn't just say he was sick, or that he had gotten hurt. Faking an emergency in Central City wasn't impossible, but it also wasn't that great of an idea. He could get Wally to vouch for him needing to help him with something, but Iris was getting tired of him borrowing her nephew since they breakup. Hal giggled, having watched Barry's face of contemplation, trying to figure out what he could do to get out of this. Pushing the blond's hair back, he spoke in a light voice.

"Y'know, I could try and get us on as the early announcers to the event." He hummed, cupping under Barry's jaw so she could examine her work (which absolutely did nothing to Barry's stomach nor to the heat between his thighs, thank you very much). "Get us in and get us out."

"Yeah right, like Bats is gonna let us do that." He sighed, resting the weight of his head against the others palm. "He's always the opener, gotta get back to his like, two hundred kids and their crime city."

Hal snorted, that pretty laugh she did when it was just the two of them, that melted Barry's heart right there in his chest.

"Yeah but the Big Bad Bat isn't in charge this year."

That sentence hung in the air for a moment, Barry sitting up to look at Hal better.

"What?" He asked, confusion and doubt clear on his face. If Batman wasn't in charge this year, he obviously would have hear about it. "I wasn't told that."

Hal rolled his eyes, sitting up with the blond. The sheets pooled around their waists, leaving both their chest exposed. Barry had to focus very hard on keeping his eyes locked on the beautiful green eyes in front of him, and not trail down to the tits he had absolutely covered in hickeys just a few inches down (In his defense, Hal had worn that black silk bra he liked, and she was well aware that it drove him wild.)

"Yes you were, I don't know what was going on in that brain of yours, but we had a meeting." He sighed, pushing his brown hair back. "The event is being held in Star City this year due to some over active rogues in Gotham. Ollie's taking over organizing everything this year." She explained.

Barry blinked at him a few times

"Which meeting was this?"

Hal let out a long, drawn out sigh, falling back onto the pillows dramatically.

"Last Thursday, we were there like, twenty minutes early, remember?" He shook his head. "All that extra time spent and you weren't even paying attention."

The speedster wracked his mind to figure out why he would've missed such amazing news last week, trying to remember what happened. Last Thursday...what had happened last...oh. Barry blushed a bright red (that was easy to see on his pale skin, curse his pale blond hair blue eyed genetics), looking away bashfully from the brunette in his bed. Last Thursday he was in the middle of a tough forensics case, allocating most of his brain power into figuring that out rather than paying attention to what was happening at the meeting. Well, focusing on that, and how beautiful Hal had looked. He'd shown up in his Lantern suit, but at some point had decided to just sit in his pilot outfit and woof, a pretty sight like that in uniform? Barry hadn't stood a chance. So yeah, his mind was a bit too busy to focus on gala planning when he was trying to wrap his head around how a body that seemed at the point of 2 weeks decayed, while having wounds that suggested they were killed 3 weeks ago, while also ogling the pretty pilot he was determined to bring home that evening. Sue him, he had his priorities.

Without getting into all of that with Hal, he skirted around his attention issues by relying mostly on the work excuse. After some mild scolding, Hal got back to her point.

"I could always ask Ollie to let us on for the intro, he still owes me after I caught Dinah and him in the training room."

He thought out loud, ignoring Barry's pinched expression.

"Ah yes, the most romantic place in the tower."

Hal chuckled, ruffling the speedsters hair.

"You're just mad we didn't think of it first." She hummed. "But yeah, I can get us pretty much in and out...and maybe-" Voice dropping to a suggestive tone, the Lantern snuggled herself up to Barry's side, batting her eyelashes for emphasis. "You and I could have ourselves a night out on the town?"

Barry's redness deepened impossibly, an awkward chuckle passing his lips.

"I mean...if you want. I've never spent much time in Star."

He spoke, gulping slightly. Hal waved his worry off (yeah...worry).

"Neither have I, it'll be fun, Speedy. We can have a little adventure, just the two of us."

She purred. If Barry were to get any warmer, he'd shut down like an old PC.

But, it was settled. Hal would speak to Ollie, use his leverage, and get them in and out of the gala so they could have a night to themselves, just the two of them. The plan, while simple for one created and preformed by the Lantern, surprisingly, went flawlessly. Hal didn't even have to threaten the dirt she had on Queen, the man simply being happy to give the two an easy night. She was a bit taken aback, thinking that the man was just trying to differentiate himself from the Bat by being more lax, but nope! He had mentioned something about making his children go on for most of the events, either as some Arrow Clan team building or wanting to improve their public image, maybe something about Roy owing him one, Hal had been tuned out for most of that. But the Friday before the event, Barry got the all clear text while at work, letting them know they had a quick pit stop before their date. (Was it a date? It felt like a date. But they never said it was a date. What if Barry called it a date and Hal didn't think it was and he embarrassed himself and oh god he was spiraling-)

On the night of the event, the two had coordinated their evening plans. They would arrive via Zeta Tube in their hero costume with a change of clothes at the ready, a feat easier for Hal but whatever (Barry was planning on just leaving some clothes at Ollie's place and coming back cause y'know...super speed.), do their little welcoming speeches, say bye to their friends, and then head off into the night together. From their, they had arranged to go to dinner at a nearby restaurant, nothing too fancy, just a chain steak house neither had in their city, and have the night take them from there. It was nice, casual, intimate. Barry pointedly ignore every time during the week his stomach would drop in excitement at the thought of them spending a whole evening out together, not just a night spent in on the couch watching old movies where Hal would talk the whole time and not pay attention to the plot (which he never minded), but a whole ass (unconfirmed) date! To top it all off, Hal had booked herself a hotel for the night on Ollie's card so they wouldn't have to worry about overworking the Zetas or having to speed home in Barry's arms. And, she heavily implied that she wanted the speedster to spend the night with her which, ah!!! That made him ecstatic. The evening sounded like a dream come true, and for once, the blond wasn't dreading the Gala night, just the Gala part.

The two arrived to the event hall around the same time, Barry choosing to run over as soon as Hal mentioned that he was heading down to the Zeta in Coast City. Since Oliver was running the show, he was able to get a crew of drivers to take people from the tube's location to the event nearby, leading to the two of them to be cozied up in a back seat together. (By that, they mean sitting near each other in the back seat, since they couldn't risk people assuming Green Lantern and the Flash had the hots for one another.). But, in no time, they were in the wings of the Gala's stage, waiting for their cue.

"You nervous?"

Hal asked, a soft smirk on her face. Barry rolled his eyes, trying to keep himself from shifting from one foot to another.

"I mean, yeah, but I've got a great co host to fall back on."

He chuckled, catching her scoffing from the corner of his eyes. He couldn't look right at them right now, knowing their beauty would send him into a full blown panic. He didn't want to think about embarrassing himself in front of a beautiful person like Hal Jordan.

"You're acting like I wouldn't leave you hanging if you fucked this up, speedy."

She snarked, fiddling with the mic in her hand. The blond shrugged, looking out in the crowd of fancy folk in fancy suits and fancy dresses, trying to go over his script in his head.

"I know you wouldn't, you like me too much."

He hummed. And for once, he caught the briefest bloom of a sweet, pink blush taking over her cheeks, something so rare to see on her face. (Well, would you look at that. The mighty Hal Jordan could be caught off her game.)

Luckily for them, their little intro monologue thanking everyone there and the people who sponsored for the event went as smooth as it could. They got the words out with no fumbles, introduced the next presenter, and handed the mic off to one of Ollie's kids (Bruce and him needed to stop competing, acquiring so many wards each was becoming a challenge. This one was Caden? Carter? No! Connor. Right.) The two snuck off to a washroom just far enough from the crowds and all security cameras to be able to change into casual clothes, Barry technically getting changed at Ollie's, where he'd left his suit in the mean time, but he met back up with Hal in that washroom less than a second later. From there, they continued their evening, the blond just as, if not more, giddy now that the night was really starting.

Dinner was about the same amount of uneventful. It was good, don't get them wrong, Barry got to feed Hal bites of his steak and potatoes, they shared a dessert (And! And! The waitress said that they were a cute couple when he was paying the check, which was a win to the speedster. Hal might've been in the washroom, but it still counted.), but overall, it wasn't much to write home about. Luckily, it was just where their night was starting.

From there, the two walked down the main streets of Star City, taking in the late night sights and sounds and smells. The twinkling lights of high rises and street lights and flashy club advertisements lining the streets. The sounds of bumping music and street performers coupled with he honking of traffic and chatter of passerby. The scent of street food, strangers colognes and perfumes, spilt booze, and the occasional sour twinge of vomit and smog. It was new and familiar all at the same time. They took to the sidewalk, following down the street until something caught their eyes. It was nice, almost domestic of them. Hal had taken it upon herself to lace their hands together, thumb tracing idly on Barry's knuckles (which made his heart beat even faster than normal). They'd people watch as they moved down the blocks, the Lantern stopping every once in a while to dance embarrassingly horribly to the music outside of clubs, trying to get the speedster to join her. They snuck into a pawn shop for a bit, looking at jewelry and old leather jackets, finding nothing that really peaked their interest. Just as they were about to reach the end of the main street they had been walking on, however, a bright, rainbow sign caught their attention.

The sign was a bit rusted, the neon lights a bit dimmer than the ones they had seen up the street. But from the rainbow flag on the railing, and the wheat pasted posters for upcoming drag shows and activist events, it was easy to tell what they'd just stopped in front of. A run of the mill gay bar. Hal looked over to Barry, bumping him with their shoulder.

"Wanna take a look inside?"

She asked, the biggest smile on her face. While normally the speedster would say no, not wanting to put some of the privacy in his life out there in the open for someone to see, the comfort of them being in a city far from his home one brought him a sense of ease. He hadn't been to any queer space really since he had transitioned, well, besides the few teen events he'd chaperoned Wally and his friends to. It would be nice to be someone safe with his sorta lover, sorta friend.

"Sure. It's been a while since I've been the one. I'm pretty sure we're gonna be aged out of the crowd, though."

He commented, already fishing cash out of his pocket for the presumed cover. Hal waved his pessimism off.

"It'll be fun. You don't have to worry about impressing anybody but me."

She teased, once again sending shocks of those tingly, stomach churning nerves only a crush could give you right to his stomach.

Inside the space was pretty stereotypical, a bouncer waiting inside the first set of doors, handing them their change for the fee (and not checking either of their IDs, ouch.). Inside was rather quaint, a few booths and pool tables, a bar in the far corner, and an open dance floor Hal immediately started dragging Barry towards, despite his protests.

"C'mon Bear, one song!"

She tried to bargain.

"At least lets get a drink first, the beer I had a dinner didn't do jack."

And he would need the liquid courage to step anywhere near a dance floor. The Lantern tapped her chin in thought, the green ring on her finger taunting the speedster.

"You drive a hard bargain. Fine, one drink."

After waiting for a few moments, the bartender took their order. The place wasn't extremely crowded, a good number of people spread out around the space, but there was still a small crowd surrounding the bar. A crowd big enough to make it a shock when a man tapped Hal on the shoulder. The blond looked over to the gentleman once he realized he was there, immediately clocking his lidded gaze and sleazy grin. Over the bumping beat of some artist he was too old to name, he could barely make out the two's conversation.

"Hey gorgeous, never seen you around here before."

He did nothing to hide the way he was leering him. Hal barely contained his eye roll.

"I'm from outta town."

She replied in a tight tone of voice. Barry was having to hold himself back from intercepting, not wanting to speak for the Lantern. She could handle herself.

"Ah, what are you doing in Star?"

The man continued to press. The blond was so focused on trying not to death stare this guy, that he jumped when Hal's arm found his waist.

"Just here with my boyfriend, having a night out after our business trip."

The brunette smiled, the smirk on his face just as flimsy as his excuse. But that didn't matter to Barry, what mattered was what Hal had called him.

Boyfriend.

Boyfriend. Boy-Friend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfrie-

The man seemed taken a back, looking between the two.

"Oh, I see." He leaned forward to look at Barry, trying to keep a polite smile on his face. "Hey buddy, you the type to share?"

And, first of all, ew. Second of all, he wanted this guy gone yesterday. He brought his own arm around Hal's waist, grip protective on her hip.

"Oh, nah. Especially not with her."

He practically growled. The man, luckily, was smart enough to know that was his cue to rush off.

Despite the threat vacating the premise, the two remained wrapped up in one another, Barry absolutely refusing to let go of Hal's waist after she'd said what she said. She'd really called him his boyfriend, like said the words to another person. And sure, maybe it was just a defense mechanism to keep some dude away, but she was still holding onto him, even after she got her drink, arm still firmly on his back as she let him take sips of her cocktail. Even after he got his whiskey sour, even once they'd both finished their drinks, they stayed glued together, arms around each other's backs. It was a bit silly, but warmed that sentimental sap deep in Barry's heart.

Just as they'd finished their drinks, and Barry was fixing his lips to inquire about what had happened, Hal gasped as a new track started to play.

"I love this song!"

He smiled, already moving to the dance floor with the blond in tow. Oh god, he was actually going to have to make good on that promise.

"Hal! Wait!"

She shook her head, practically dragging him onto the dance floor.

"A deals a deal, dear. You promised me a dance."

She argued. And as much as he wanted to pull away and hide in the booths, leaving her alone on the dance floor, the speedster couldn't resist those pretty eyes and wide smile. He could endure one, one embarrassing dance on the gay bar's dance floor, if it meant making her happy.

Barry realized very quickly, however, that he hadn't danced at any sort of night club at all, in years. Specifically, he hadn't since transitioning. The embarrassment and unease flooded him all at once, realizing that he'd never taken the time to figure out how men were supposed to dance at nightlife events. Was he just supposed to stand there? Do that stupid flick boys did? Or should be get behind Hal? That would just be awkward with their height difference. Noticing the look on his face, Hal offered him a small smile. She took his hands, guiding them to her waist as she swayed to the beat.

"Just, follow my lead."

She mumbled in his ear. Sparks flew deep in the blond's stomach, just deep enough to shock something in his pelvis. And yeah, ok, he could do that.

They moved against each other, easy at first, before getting closer and closer. Barry remembered some of the steps of his youth, the way to sway his hips back and forth to music, legs bumping into Hal's softly as they danced. It wasn't perfect, not really, but neither cared. They were too busy focusing on each other, barely brushing their noses together and getting up into each other's personal space. The blond had moved his hands to the others hips, while they had trailed their hands from around his neck to be holding him by his belt loops. Maybe it was the drinks or just the electrifying energy of the night, but for once, everything felt like it was going too fast for Barry. A pressure was building inside him, a want swirling deep in his stomach, dampening his boxers. He'd been so keyed up all night, that slight heat of desire always at a low simmer now burning him alive from the inside out. Under the low lights of the dance floor, being so close to such a beautiful creature, he couldn't deny, couldn't pretend anymore. He needed Hal, needed her bad.

With the confidence of a few drinks, he decided to push gender roles aside for the night and actually let loose. Remembering how he lured in men and women alike in his twenties, Barry gently turned in Hal's grip, putting his back to his chest, swaying his hips from side to side on his belt buckle. He was expecting to feel the firm, cool metal against his back when he did that, not to feel a firm presence press against his ass just below it. Holy fucking shit, she was hard. Hot and stiff in her jeans. Well, at least Barry wasn't the only one. As he tried to process what the hell to do with that information, Hal rolled his hips forward in a slow grind against his ass, urging him without any words, making him feel every inch of her desire for him.

His shock was so noticeable, I mean, the speedster was practically just standing there as he dry humped him, Hal gently cupped his jaw and made Barry look at her.

"You have no idea how crazy you drive me, do you?"

She mumbled, kissing his cheek, dangerously soft. The blond turned around, their hips meeting each other easily.

"Do you wanna head back to the hotel? I can get us there in no time."

He offered, desperately wanting to solve their desire for one another. She shook her head, eyes finding the washrooms in the far corner.

"Can't wait that long for you, baby."

Which brings out heroes back to the beginning, crammed into a barely handicap accessible stall, grinding against each other desperately. Tongues tangled in one another, each other's spit almost dripping down their chins.

"If it makes you feel any better." Hal panted as Barry kissed down her neck. "I've got a little out of order sign on the door outside, that should buy us some time."

She groaned. The speedster pulled back from worrying her skin with his teeth, leaving a line of beautiful hickeys down her throat, to chuckle.

"Yeah, cause a floating, glowing green sign isn't going to attract attention."

She rolled her eyes, cupping his face as she pulled him back to her mouth.

"Keep up that attitude, and I'll make a pretty ball gag for you, handsome."

Barry's hips moved back and forth along her thigh, desperately seeking any form of stimulation he could get. He had been so desperate for her. Every day since they planned their night, he knew deep down that he needed Hal between his legs to alleviate that pressure. Drawing his hips back and thrusting them forward onto the thick muscle, his hard cock tingling with rough stimulation as he dragged it against her jeans. It wasn't enough, just something to soothe himself until he had her. Had her hips to his, that deep ache quelled by her inside him. His hands wrapped around her neck, pulling them in to kiss roughly, and to silence the soft whimpers that passed his lips. He didn't want this to end before they even go started.

He felt their hands leave his waist as they blindly took hold of his belt, fingers pulling at it until she got it unbuckled.

"Gotta make sure you're open for me."

She mumbled, now working on his button and fly. Barry panted, eyes gazing down to watch as she shuffled the pants down his hips, opening them up to give them room to work with. His pants low, fly unbuckled and opened to show the waistband of his underwear. Barry, arms still wrapped around Hal's shoulders, could feel them bounce with barely contained laughter.

"W-what is it?"

He asked, pulling back from her lips to see what was so funny. The brunette covered his mouth, looking away.

"Nothing just...tighty whiteys? Really?"

He giggled. The speedster rolled his eyes.

"They're briefs."

That did nothing to stop the giggles.

"I know, just, you really know how to woo a girl, huh Allen?"

With a roll of his eyes, Barry pulled her back in for a kiss, knowing they'd be stuck here forever if they kept arguing.

Back on track now, Hal's fingers slipped into Barry's underwear, almost immediately making contact with his hard cock, standing at attention, soaked in his arousal. The blond hissed against her lips, head tipping back against the brick wall. The Lantern slowly rubbed soft circles on the sensitive head, teasing it to life, making sure he was ready, before delving further between the folds. Trailing back until they felt that wet heat that was begging to suck her in. As they pushed their middle finger into the tight warmth, Barry's head fell forwards, panting as he leaned against her for stability as she explored his depth.

"You're so wet for me, baby." She praised, kissing his neck. "Gonna be ready for my cock in no time."

Easily, she pressed a second finger in, cooing at how they were both swallowed whole by his cunt.

Barry had to keep a white knuckle grip on her shoulders to keep himself from falling, desperate to keep himself up as Hal thrust his digits in and out of his pussy, but his knees weak from how great it felt. Her palm was pressed against his cock, grinding against him painfully slow as she fingered him open.

"Fucking hell." He whined, hips moving to get more from her. "Hal, please."

Movements becoming sharper, the Lantern tutted.

"Not yet, don't want to have you walking funny outta here."

She explained, fingers scissoring the speedster's wet walls. The feeling made him keen, back arching towards her desperately.

She kept the movements up, never going too fast or too slow, just right to keep him hooked on her, but not enough to make him cum. As quick as they needed to be, she wanted to drag it out with all the time they had, make him feel it. Barry, for all it was worth, was in heaven. Big blue eyes blown out as he watched everything Hal did, feeling her expertise as she worked him to where he needed to be. But fate just never seemed to be on his side. As she was working a third digit to the rim of his cunt, they heard foot steps approaching outside of the door.

They both froze, holding bated breaths as they grew closer and closer. With her thigh still between his legs, Hal wrapped her unoccupied arm around Barry (The one who's hand wasn't buried in him), and helped float him off the floor, just past where they'd be able to see them. The door creaked, footsteps coming in. The clearly drunk chatter brought a level of comfort, it wasn't staff coming in, but it still made sweat, a very rare thing to see on speedster skin, pool along Barry's lower back. Hal's eyes were narrowed looking at the locked door, focusing on what the people were saying, yet her hand stayed exactly where it was. It was taking everything in the blond not to squirm, his cunt tightening around the digits desperately against his will. Luckily for them, less than a few seconds after the people came in, one of their friends (probably a sober handler), called to them to head to the other washroom, pointing out the clear out of order sign. Oh, that shit eating grin Hal had was going to follow Barry for weeks. Just as quickly as they came, they left, letting the Lantern bring them back to the ground. Before the speedster could make any snide comments, his cunt was immediately stretched around the third finger, Hal covering his mouth with hers at the same time to shut him up and not blow their cover.

With a few more minutes of thrusting and stretching and Barry needing to bit his lip hard to keep all his noises inside, Hal was retracting his fingers from the tight heat and licking them clean (which definitely didn't send a gush of arousal through the blond's core).

"How do we wanna do this?"

She asked once she'd finished cleaning up, fingers reaching for her own belt. Barry stopped her, fingers replacing hers starting to undo it for him

"Probably easiest from the back with the room we have."

He bargained, looking around the cramped space. Hal frowned.

"Yeah but...I won't be able to...y'know?" She made a vague jerking gesture with her hand. "Play with your little guy."

Barry made a face like he'd bit into a lemon.

"Stop calling him that." He groaned, trying not to smile at Hal's giggle. "I can deal with that, speedy fingers and all."

He pointed out, hand vibrating as he dragged it over her bulge. The Lantern gasped, gripping his wrist to stop him, despite the soft sound she made.

"Point taken. Alright, turn around, handsome."

Despite the command, Barry helped ease Hal out of her, very sexy, lace panties before turning around ("You got all done up for me?" "Yes, Barry, unlike you, some people like to show off for the person they're fucking.") He was hot and stiff in his hand, firm and so desperate. The blond gave her a few pumps to make sure they were both ready, before spinning around, placing his hands firmly on the wall. Hal eased his slacks and underwear down to his thighs, giving them enough room to work, but making sure they wouldn't touch the floor. He knew the blond could be nitpicky about stuff like that. The Lantern placed a big hand on his hips, helping them cant upwards towards him, arching to put his ass and cunt on display.

"Jesus, fuck, bear." They whispered, hands appreciating his physique. Full ass, strong thighs, pretty pink hole wet and begging. "Wish you could see how good you look. All that running does you some good."

She breathed, thumbs pulling his lips apart to look at him, inspecting what was hers. Barry whined, arching further as she dragged her cock head through his folds, lubing herself up with his arousal.

"I wouldn't want people, fuck, to think I couldn't be around you."

He whined, blushing as she hummed a soft laugh.

"Oh baby, we make a great pair."

She rut her hips against him once, making sure her dick was fully coated, twice, to press their cocks together and send another dizzy spark through him, and a third time, to drag her tip against his hole, before sinking in.

Hal immediately groaned under his breath, almost breathless as that tight heat surrounded her. Wet, hot, raw, Barry's cunt swallowed her whole, taking her to the hilt without complaint. And Barry, fuck, Barry was in heaven. That desperate need to be filled by something thick and heavy was sated, replace by a want to be destroy by it. He wanted that hot, desperate sex, to feel Hal fill him to the brim with her spend, make him hers with no second thoughts. With her cock head nuzzled to her lover's cervix, her hips slowly pulled back, retreating from the warmth. Barely pausing at the edge of pulling out, the Lantern's hips fucked back forward, being hugged by those warm walls once more.

Barry groaned, bringing a hand to his mouth to bite on a knuckle. He would not be the reason they got caught. Standing a bit firmer, legs further apart, he arched his back as much as he could, his other hand coming down to his cunt.

"H-Hal, just, fuck, just fuck me, please! I can take it."

He begged softly, fingers trailing along where they were connected. The Lantern shuddered, his hands planted firmly on Barry's hips, holding him tight.

"You sure? I don't wanna hurt you."

She mumbled, whimpering softly as she felt the fingers buzz at the root of her cock. The speedster laughed breathlessly.

"You could never do that, beautiful. Give it to me, I wanna feel you."

She groaned a pretty sound as his walls tightened around her for emphasis. Oh, if he wanted it, he was going to get it.

Grip holding him in place, Hal pulled their hip back before fucking forward again, pulling Barry back onto her thick length. Quickly, she repeated the action again, and again, and again, fucking into that beautiful heat that made sparks form behind her eyelids. It felt so good, so snug in there, like his cunt was made to hug her cock tight, like it begged for her loads. The lantern immediately set a quick pace, thrusting his cock in and out of his lover with passion, biting her lip to keep the noises at a minimum. Hot pulses of pleasure tingled from her cock head all the way through her pelvis, goosebumps on her arms and legs. That all consuming need to chase that pleasure all the way down, feel that pressure build and build until it blew taking over her. If his skin could bruise, she'd have left pretty marks all along his hip bones, lasting brands of her devotion of making them both feel good, evidence of her needing to find control around him. As much as she tried to limit their sounds, the applause of his thick ass hitting her hips and thighs was impossible to silence, and she wasn't willing to limit their pleasure by pulling back on her thrusts.

Barry himself was truly lost in it, trying to bounce back to meet her, but barely able to keep control of that and to not make any sounds. His teeth were digging into his skin, definitely leaving a sizable bite mark that would vanish in minutes. It was intoxicating, that heady arousal that built up inside him as Hal bullied her way in and out of his sopping cunt. Head tipped forward, feeling light and dizzy as those hot throbs of pleasure shot through him, filling his stomach with that need to be quelled. His other hand was stroking his cock slowly, running a faint vibration along it. As much as he was a fan of that buzzing feeling on his parts, he never bothered to invest in any toy. Why would he? Why use loud silicone that you couldn't control when he could just do them himself? His fingers found his dick head, sticking out proud from his folds and growth, desperate for some loving. He sped himself up, petting small strokes to the soft skin, silencing his moans into his hand. It was so amazing, so hot and heavy. He couldn't hold back his sounds as well as before, letting out a soft, muffled.

"Fuck, Hal~"

He never wanted it to end. Never wanted to be fucked by anyone else cock or fingers or tongue, never wanting to don his strap for anyone else.

Hal wasn't doing much better at keeping her head on straight. He was transfixed, hypnotizing herself as he watched his cock disappear in and out of Barry. Watching the way the pink skin would grip her length for as long as it could as she pulled back, taking it so well as she thrust back in. It felt incredible, rich, silky warmth holding him like it never wanted to let go. The way his ass would bounce with every impact. And fuck, when Barry's hand sped up? She wasn't sure how it worked, never caring to ask how he could make himself vibrate like that. All they knew was that when he sped up his hands, it would send those trembles through his body as well, his cunt vibrating in time. Or maybe he did that on purpose, maybe he did that to get her off, which sent a whole new wave of heady lust through her skull. God, this man was too good to her.

"Shit, Bear, I'm not gonna last if you keep that up."

She warned, hips still jacking into him. He groaned, letting go of the knuckle he held in his teeth, ignoring the trickle of blood that fell to the floor.

"Don't worry, I won't either." He breathed. "Just make your-self feel good, gorgeous."

With that permission, Hal didn't hold back.

Fucking her hips in hard and fast, she chased that pleasurable pressure, letting that applause fill the cramped space, noises becoming less muffled and more desperate. Small calls of "fuck" and "damn" and "oh my god, Barry!", she hammered her length in and out of the wonderful pussy like she was trying to prove a point. And Barry? Barry was loving every second of it. His fingers fast on his cock, buzzing the skin until it was blurry, sending droplets of slick in every direction. It felt so good, hot tingles of pleasure making his cunt tighten around the big cock inside him. He was sure they were being too loud at this point but didn't care, too turned on and too close to cumming to worry about the world around him. For all he knew, it was only Hal and him left at this bar.

With a few more strong thrusts into the pulsing heat, Hal was feeling that contraction deep in her stomach, that clench of all that desire and pleasure and good forming itself into a ball deep in her loins before it exploded through her. Her balls tightened, voice hitting a new octave, before she was fucking spurts of hot cum deep into Barry's cunt. Waves of that hazey pleasure rolled out of him, pretty calls to her lover falling from her lips and pulses of her arousal shot into him. She kept fucking in and out of him until those clenches of overstimulation took over, forcing her to stop while still deep inside.

But that was enough for Barry. That weight and warmth inside him, listening to the whimpers of Hal coming down, it was more than enough to get him there. Feeling her hands sooth down his spine, gentle encouragements leaving his lips.

"You close? Yeah? Gonna cum on my spent dick? C'mon Bear, cum for me baby."

It all was too much, that pressure in his head, feeling the mess surrounding his hole. He jerked himself harshly, groaning into his hand as his body clenched down, that pleasure reaching it's peak before it burst into a million sparkles in his loins, sending him careening to such a strong orgasm. He came with a groan, body tipping forward, caught by his lover who chuckled softly. He couldn't register that though, brain throbbing with light headed pleasure as he struggled to keep his hand on his cock, so sensitive and raw. It thrummed through him, climax taking over all his senses and he stroked himself to completion, panting in Hal's arms.

They stood like that for a moment, the two swaying to the soft beat playing outside the doors. No one had barrelled the door down asking what they were doing, so they assumed they were in the clear. Hal helped Barry stand, brushing his blond hair back one again.

"You alright?"

She whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. He nodded, already feeling himself come back to life. Looking up at her pretty eyes, smiled.

"More than."

He mumbled, pulling her into a kiss.

After a few moments of locking lips, Hal pulled back, glancing between their legs with an amused look.

"I uh, I think you've got a bit of a mess to deal with."

She muttered, the light catching the shine of their arousals mixed. Barry chuckled, his breath finally caught.

"Yeah...how about you head out and find us a booth while I clean up? So we don't leave at the same time and look suspicious."

He offered, for that reason, and so he could gather his thoughts. She took in his expression before nodding, slowly pulling out of him. Wiping herself down quickly, throwing the tissue in the toilet, she gave him one last look.

"Don't take too long, handsome."

She winked, heading out of the stall quickly so Barry could lock up.

Once alone, the blond took a moment to think, recounting the dizzying events of the evening. Everything had happened so fast, even for him. The dinner, their walk, Hal calling him her boyfriend, what they'd just done? It was so much, and so perfect. It brought up so many feelings though, so many he understood, and others he didn't. He needed to get to the bottom of everything, now longer content to live in the comfort of the status quo. Knowing he couldn't waste too much more time without raising suspicions, he cleaned himself up, cringing as the wetness of his underwear pressed against his cunt, before heading back out to the bar.

Quickly, he spotted her alone in a far off booth, having shoved both their coats on the seats opposite to her to block anyone from joining. She waved him down, showing off that they had gotten a beer for each of them. With a chuckled, the blond shuffled up to the booth, quickly slipping in next to them. Even though his healing factor meant he wasn't in any pain physically, he needed that post sex emotional comfort. Immediately, Hal's arm wrapped around him, pulling him close to her chest. Barry melted into the touch, into the warmth, feeling so comforted and safe. He looked up just to see her emerald eyes looking down to him, smiling so sweetly. God, he was the most beautiful person he's ever seen. There was no stopping him, his incessant need to kiss his lips again and again, and nothing stopping him. They stayed like that for a bit, music pumping as they kissed so sweetly in the sticky booth.

After a while, when they'd stopped locking lips and were people watching the crowd, Barry spoke up. There was something gnawing at him he hadn't addressed.

"Hey Hal?" She hummed looking over to him. "Uhm, you said something earlier that I just needed some clarification on."

He breathed, eyes locked on the table in front of him. Hal adjusted, moving so he could look at the blond better.

"What's up, sweets?"

God, more of the ooey, gooey feeling bloomed in Barry's chest.

"It's just that, when that guy was bothering you earlier...you called me your boyfriend..."

He said, looking up at her awkwardly. He could not mess this up, he couldn't scare he off after having amazing sex. That would be the mother of all failures on his part. Hal cocked her head, a soft smile on her face.

"Yeah? Cause you are?"

...huh?

Barry reared back, shocked.

"Since when?"

He frowned.

"What do you mean since when? We've been dating for months."

She chuckled, confused. Ok, now Barry was confused.

"I mean, yeah, but we never made it official?"

The blond argued. Hal went to respond, but then thought about it for a moment, cursing under her breath.

"Shit...we never did, huh?" She smiled softly. "And here I was going around saying I'm dating this great guy, Barry Allen."

He chuckled, looking at the blond so softly. And holy fucking shit, that sent fireworks off in Barry's stomach, it alight with all the emotion he'd felt this evening. With no appropriate response coming to mind, he gripped her shirt and pulled her forward, kissing Hal with everything he had, everything he'd been dying to give her. Of course, she reciprocated.

"How about we go and celebrate it being officially official in that hotel room you got?"

Barry gasped as they broke apart. Hal didn't have to be asked twice.