Additional Tags: Somnophilia, Consensual Somnophilia, Consensual, Age Difference, Damian Wayne is of Legal Age, Top Damian Wayne, second time topping, bratty Damian, Demanding Damian, POV Damian Wayne, inexperienced Damian, Self Confidence Issues, Small Penis, Anal Sex, Condoms, sleepy Dick Grayson, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Fucking, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, but we love him
Summary:
Damian scowls.
"I want to have sex," he demands, shaking Grayson's shoulder to try and rouse him. Grayson groans and buries his face deeper into the pillow.
"Are you serious, Dami?" he grumbles.
"I am aroused, Grayson," he murmurs into Dick's ear, letting his hot breath waft over his skin. "And it is your fault."
It’s not often that Damian is the one to initiate a hug, there’s only few things that can drive him to do so and one of them is this miserable look Dick gets every once in a while, one Damian learnt to relate to the man’s self destructive doubts and morals. “Grayson” he reaches for the man’s waist and tugs him closer almost violently, wrapping his arms around him and pressing to him, chest against chest. “Shut up.” Damian doesn’t need to look up to see the surprise in Dick’s eyes, the little “Ah” is enough.
“I haven’t said anything y’kno” Dick’s tone is light but it’s a bit too heavy on the edges, a bit too tensed for Damian’s liking. Dick is awkward, hands frozen in air and body almost tense, Damian hates it. “Little D?” he asks, tone unsure.
“Be quiet. ” Damian’s tone is edgy yet his embrace is gentle, it’s caring.“ You’ll ruin it”.
Title: Worry is for the Weak
Characters: Damian, Dick, with Tim on the side
A/N: This takes place in the void before the first issue of the Batman New52 (or was it the reboot?). In that issue, Batman breaks into Arkham to retrieve Dick, who has been posing as the Joker to collect intel.
Worry is for the Weak
Damian’s ears pulled back to better hear the footfalls as they crept into the room. From the ridiculously slow gait, he could tell whoever it was was making an obvious attempt at being sneaky, immediately narrowing his list of suspects down to Grayson. Because he was the only idiot who liked to goof off in this household.
Feeling generous, Damian kept his eyes on his book, allowing Grayson to have his fun for the moment. He glanced up only when green hair began to poke up over the couch, directly behind Drake. A pale face and shadowed eyes shining brightly with twisted amusement followed and just as Drake began to turn his head to acknowledge the presence, a single word was breathed into the teenager’s ear.
“Boo.”
Drake’s double-take turned into a flailing of arms and legs as he fell off the couch in an effort to put some immediate distance between himself and the Joker. Mad laughter filled the room and caused the hair on the back of Damian’s neck to stand on end as he gritted his teeth in frustration. He sounded just like him.
Snapping his book shut, Damian stood. “Is it really necessary to wear that thing around the house?”
He did his best to keep his features impassive as wild eyes fixed unblinkingly on him. It was a surprisingly difficult thing to do despite knowing that wasn’t really the Joker leaning over the couch.
After a long moment the clown’s head flickered out of existence, leaving behind a plain, dotted mask that was pulled off to reveal Dick Grayson’s concerned face. Before any reassurances could be voiced, Tim spoke up.
“So you’re actually going through with it?”
With Dick’s attention successfully diverted, Damian took the opportunity to leave the room.
-
Damian had thought the ballroom made for an excellent hiding place until Dick actually found him. He considered ignoring Grayson in favor of reading until he realized that would imply that something was bothering him.
Heaven forbid he give any of his “siblings” a reason to play the part of concerned older brother.
He set the book aside just as Grayson started climbing the stairs to the small stage.
“Did you need something?” he asked neutrally, crossing his arms and straightening his posture.
Dick hesitated before closing the distance between them and sliding down the wall to sit next to Damian on the floor.
“I’m scheduled to have Batman dump me off on Arkham’s doorstep tonight.”
Damian’s eyes moved away from Dick and resolutely stared at the edge of the stage. “Great. Excellent. Have fun trying not to get yourself killed.”
A small smirk peeked out from the corners of Dick’s mouth. “Do you still want my escrima sticks if I don’t make it?”
Damian’s jaw jutted out. He had made that comment in jest back when the idea of Dick posing as the Joker in Arkham Asylum had first been put forth. It stopped being funny the second he realized both his father and Grayson were seriously considering it.
The silence stretched on for a bit before Dick realized he wasn’t going to receive some witty comeback.
“You know, I honestly expected you to have gone though all of my things already and written up a will for me to sign.”
Damian couldn’t help but snort. “Like you have anything materialistic that would be of value to me.”
“Hey! I have…stuff,” Dick finished lamely when he failed to think of anything specific. “Okay, so what if I’m not materialistic? Last I checked, your esoteric humor didn’t rely on such logic.”
Damian pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Giving up on trying to keep the conversation light-hearted, Dick cut to the chase. “Damian, the way you’ve been acting lately has kind of thrown us all for a loop.”
“And what way is that?” Damian forced himself to turn his head to face Dick, daring him to finish calling him out on his actions.
Dick’s eyes met and locked with his. “Concerned.”
It was a stupid dare anyways and Damian returned his attention to the room at large. “Is that a problem?”
He heard Dick’s sigh and struggled to keep his defenses from rising.
“No, it’s great. It lets us know that you’re really human.”
Damian snarled at the less-than enthused tone. “Try not to sound so thrilled.” He dropped from his curled position and reached for his book. Now was a good time as any to leave.
Instead he found his arm in a vice grip as he was unceremoniously dragged flush against Grayson’s side. Any normal means of escape was prevented by a muscular arm thrown over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?!”
“Having a moment,” Dick answered calmly, refusing to relinquish his hold as Damian struggled. “Now stay still. This may be the last real interaction we ever have.”
Heart dropping uncomfortably into his stomach, something cold spread through Damian’s chest and he wrenched himself free, scrambling to the edge of the stage in order to put some space between them before turning around and running an agitated hand through his hair. “Why would you even say that? How can you be so ready to die over-over nothing! It’s just for a lead in a case!”
Dick’s eyes were sad as they stared up at Damian in shock. “You really are worried about me…”
“I’m not worried!” Damian snarled, his voice echoing in the empty ballroom.
“Okay, fine.” Dick braced his hands against the wall behind him as he moved to stand. “You’re scared.”
Damian froze in his unintentional pacing.
Dick took the opportunity to close the distance between them, careful to leave a few feet of space to prevent Damian from bolting. “Have a bit of faith in me, alright? Bruce wouldn’t let me go out there if he didn’t completely believe in me. He’s got a track record of doing that.”
“Father’s kept you from missions before?” Damian frowned.
“Yeah. But that’s in the past now, so you shouldn’t judge me for it.”
A flash of smugness ran through Damian. Father had never successfully stopped him from going on missions. Yet.
“Point is, the fact that Bruce is supporting me in this decision should be enough to calm everyone’s fears.”
“Because he knows the extent of the abilities that you didn’t even know you had,” Damian snorted, stubbornly looking away.
“Actually, yeah.” Dick slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He does.”
Some of the fight left Damian and he warily looked up at Dick. “You can honestly say with confidence that you’ll survive alone in Arkham with every villain — most of whom you helped put there — while successfully pretending to be the Joker, and then come home unscathed and alive?”
Dick thoughtfully began to nod before aborting the motion with a tilt of his head. “Well, I don’t want to go making promises in the off chance that something does go wrong, but,” he shrugged, “I was born in a circus. I’m meant to perform. This mission is just a twisted version of that.”
Damian knew he looked less than convinced.
“Look, I know you don’t like it, but I’d feel a lot better if you had at least a little bit of confidence in me.”
“You’d feel better?” Damian scoffed, but took a step towards Dick regardless.
“What if I write home every day?” Dick offered.
Damian’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a promise or a threat?”
“That depends on how you feel about being addressed to as Harley.”
Damian drew back, mildly disgusted. “Is it really that impossible for you to hold a serious discussion for more than ten minutes?”
Dick was prevented from answering by the sound of Alfred clearing his throat from the doorway.
“Master Bruce is waiting for you downstairs, sir.”
“Thanks, Alfred.” Dick bent down and picked up Damian’s book. “This is it. Now can we have our moment?” He spread his arms in invitation.
“No.” Damian reached out and snatched the book back before turning to walk off the stage towards the main doorway. “But I am willing to hang on to your escrima sticks until you get back. Maybe I’ll even use them a bit when I help capture the Joker.”
At Dick’s bark of laughter, Damian allowed himself a small smile. With any luck, things would turn out okay.
Damian knows that something is off the moment Grayson actually asks for cuddles, or at least it’s what he assumes from the quiet “Hey, little D, will you stay here tonight?” and the “Can we just.. You know…” whispered in bed, with his hands far far away from Damian “… Uh, cuddle..” it comes out awkward and the man almost seems like he’s about to laugh it off but he doesn’t, it gets quiet.
Sometimes Grayson would ask for it jokingly, more often he wouldn’t ask at all, just drag Damian to bed or sneak his arms around him, so naturally the teen could barely refuse, but he never asks, not in all seriousness, not like now.
So Damian stays, he doesn’t ask why, he’s sure Grayson would spill it anyways, it wouldn’t be Grayson otherwise. It’s him who shifts closer for a change, pressing his frame against the (tense) bigger one, figuring it’s the right thing to do when he feels the tension loosens a bit.
“TT” Damian has to also engage the actual cuddling, which he does when Grayson doesn’t, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist and (with some effort) pulls him closer to himself. “What is it, Grayson?” he’d expect him to tell him by now, yet he didn’t. His fingers finds another bruise, the man seems to be covered in those, fresh bruises, his lip is broken too “And why are you so beaten?” there wasn’t anything special on patrol that night, he’d hear about it
“Are you that old that mere street rats can beat you up?” it’s not like he means to sound arrogant, it’s more of a defense mechanism against not knowing what is wrong with Grayson. Angry Grayson seems like a much better option than this, at least he’d know how to deal with that, since right now it doesn’t look like Grayson wants anything sexual, at all.
It’s a mistake though, it doesn’t make him mad, it makes him tense, it almost feels like he’s hugging a statue. “Grayson?” tension sneaks to his voice too now, worried, he’d worried. “Are you deaf, I’ve asked you something” there’s frustration building in his voice, he despises feeling helpless. Few long moment passes and he decides to try another tactic, shifting closer and pecking the man on the cheek, the way he knew could melt him at any other day.
Not today. He’s appalled when the man moves away as if burned, gaze anywhere but on him. Damian’s lips part and his hands fall off Dick’s waist, there’s a sting of rejection in his chest. What have just happened? He sits up, looking down on the man who returns his gaze shortly “Sorry..” he finally speaks, apologetic and quiet and a little broken. “Sorry Dami” he repeats it.
@drabblemeister asked for #2 or #7 from this list. She got #7.
—
7. Fake Relationship
“You boys have something that belongs to me.”
Those words had gotten him in the door.
But it was ‘Stella’s’ snarled reaction of, “What are you doing here?” upon seeing him that had gotten him a meeting with the big boss. The one they needed to take down in order to bring this particular slave ring to a halt.
They drank, they schmoozed, they joked about the woes of dealing with headstrong girlfriends, and with a friendly nudge, Dick was sent down to the club floor to enjoy himself while the boss went to a meeting wearing his now-bugged jacket.
The main front of the joint was a dance club. It would look innocent enough if not for the odd number of girls whose ages were dubious at best. Damian had informed them they were the boss’ personal favorites – the ones who actually enjoyed slavery enough to be loyal.
They would go out and recruit highschoolers for what promised to be a fun night out. Fourteen of those highschoolers had failed to come back home so far.
A drink was shoved into his chest, sloshing slightly onto his dark green silk shirt.
“You never answered my question,” Damian growled out, suddenly standing close enough to Dick that the glass was practically being held in place by both their chests.
Well…his chest and ‘her’ fake chest.
Damian had taken to wearing nothing but high heels for a week in order to ready himself for this particular mission, as well as watching endless makeup tutorials on YouTube.
The dedication had paid off. He looked so exotically stunning with the smokey eye look surrounding his bright green irises that it actually took Dick a moment to find his voice.
“Aw, come on, Stella-baby, don’t be like this.” Dick carefully took the drink and moved it away from his ridiculously expensive shirt. “I talked to your dad and–”
“You did what?” the shrill shout had garnered the attention of one of the bouncers, and after sending the man a glare, Damian grabbed Dick by the hand and dragged him away from prying eyes and ears.
The entrance to the short hallway wasn’t exactly private, but it did place them right in between security cameras.
“Explain,” Damian ordered shortly, impatiently brushing his long bangs away from his face.
“I’m here to pull you out. B’s orders!” Dick’s hands went up defensively at Damian’s snarl. “We have almost everything we need and he’s worried about you getting in too deep.”
“I’ve only been here three nights! The only reason they haven’t pulled me yet is because–” Damian cut himself off as he looked out into the crowd. “–is because that guard has taken a shine to me.”
Dick followed Damian’s line of sight to where he saw a gorilla of a man watching them from the other end of the club. Dick was very aware of his jaw dropping as he took in the sheer size of the man’s shoulders.
“Jesus Christ, is that Bane?” He instinctively reached out to grab Damian and pull him closer for protection. “Why wasn’t he in your reports?”
“Don’t be stupid, Grayson.” Damian wrenched his arm free. “I did put him in the reports.”
Dick’s eyes widened. “That’s Quigley Quagmire? Damn. There has got to be a story behind that kind of name.”
“Yes, but I’m not about to share that information to satisfy your twisted sense of amusement,” Damian snapped. “You can go home and tell Father that I-”
“Stella,” Dick interrupted, placing both hands on Damian’s exposed shoulders. “Shut up and kiss me.”
Damian’s face went slack with shock. “W-what?”
“Quigley’s approaching fast; probably because you look far too upset.” Dick placed a gentle knuckle under Damian’s chin. He didn’t dare add that he knew asking Damian to coyly smile for him would be like asking for a damn miracle.
The light in Damian’s eyes was new, entirely non-malicious, and completely unfamiliar. It threw Dick off balance.
Dick was thrown even more off balance when Damian actually leapt up to kiss him, wrapping his arms around Dick’s neck and falling into his chest.
Quick to react, Dick turned them around to trap Damian between himself and the nearest wall.
He distantly wished he could see Bruce’s reaction to this right now, knowing the man had both an audio and visual tab on them. But such bemusement took place behind how surprisingly good it felt to be holding and kissing Damian.
Dick had no idea if the young teen had ever kissed anyone before, but he certainly made for an eager learner. He responded to Dick’s caressing touch against the open back of his dress by pushing his body closer. His lips parted automatically for Dick’s tongue and he let the older man take the lead, to show him exactly how it’s done.
For a moment, Dick lost himself. The gravity of their mission, the fact that they were technically brothers, the age difference, it all fell away to the taste of Damian and the feel of his body against Dick’s.
Reality came crashing back down with the vibrating bass of the DJ and a large hand on his shoulder ripping Dick several stumbling steps back.
For one second, blinding panic engulfed Dick as he wildly thought Bruce himself and broken into the club to separate the two himself.
“Is there a problem here?”
Dick looked up and nearly sagged in relief when he saw it was just the infatuated bouncer.
“No, Quigley. We’re…fine.”
When Quigley refused to release his hold, Dick glanced back at Damian. The boy certainly didn’t look fine. Cheeks flushed, false breasts heaving as he panted for breath, hips canted back, and fists over his crotch, where they tugged at his short dress in a show of straightening the material.
“Alright, let’s go, bub.”
Dick flailed as he was suddenly being dragged off by his shoulder.
“W-wait!” Damian called out, grabbing Dick’s sleeve to stop them. “He’s my boyfriend!”
Quigley gave pause at that.”…This is Alan?”
Quigley’s surprise was overshadowed by Dick’s. “You told him about me?”
“Yeah,” Damian answered softly.
The hold on him slackened and Dick slipped free. He found himself giving Quigley a double-take at the tender look in the large man’s eyes.
“Uh…what exactly have you told him about me?” Dick asked, unnerved.
The top of his head was suddenly encased in a large palm and was forcefully turned towards Quigley.
“You listen here, bub.” A thick finger was shoved in his face. “You got a good thing here. You got an ounce of honor in you, you’ll protect her with your life. Got it?”
Dick managed a weak smile. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now get her out of here. Leaving strange men to keep an eye on her is stupid of you.”
Dick’s head was released with a shove, and with that the bouncer turned and stalked off.
“Wow. What the hell did you do to get on that guy’s soft side?”
“None of your business, Grayson.” The hand on his elbow was still there. “You’ve succeeded in turning my mission into a bust. Just take me home.”
Well aware that something big had just happened right under his nose, Dick allowed Damian to boss him around and did just that.
