What is your op theory on how Jimbe will return (or not)?
You know that stereotype when the "hero" always shows up at the last minute? That's my feeling with Jimbei, whether it's in the current arc or later on. It's either that or we see him in a very dire situation for like a quick second.
The posters seemed to be everywhere overnight – ‘Join the PPDC!’ as a bold, nationwide infographic. It reminded him vaguely of old propaganda posters he’d seen, reminded him of high school classes about the Cold War, but he didn’t begrudge this effort like he theoretically begrudged those. The Kaiju were a very real, very tangible threat, and clear evidence of them was everywhere. It was in the entire cities laid to ruin, it was in the rocketing levels of homeless youth overflowing the shelters, it was in the market uncertainty, the economy that was devastated by reparations and flooded by black-market deals on Kaiju parts at the exact same time. The society became hand-to-mouth, and soldiering for a life seemed increasingly appealing.
But he didn’t join up until a Kaiju attack killed his mother. She wasn’t home, was off visiting their aunt, and the Kaiju had come without warning – as they always did. Until that moment, even with the plain economic hardship and the once- or twice-removed stories from survivors, the actual Kaiju had seemed somehow fictional. A distant reality, one he didn’t have to abide by, just survive the way it changed the world around him. Just as the posters had popped up overnight, his entire world-view had changed overnight, from a theoretical, distant threat to a burning, immediate need for vengeance. He wanted to protect people, too… and frankly, jobs were few and far between. The PPDC posters began to look more and more appealing, until he finally went ahead and applied.
He passed the physical examination readily enough, and the intellectuals were fairly simple – piloting the Jaeger’s didn’t involve a lot of scientific know-how, not on their end. But he knew the real test would come later, would come with whether or not he’d ever find someone to Drift with.
Just shy of a year after he’d initially joined (and twelve more Kaiju attacks, all fielded by active Jaegers, though two had fallen to their conflicts) he was finally to be tested, and ideally assigned a Drift partner. The nature of the test was simple enough, and hardly a secret, but the underlying mechanics of it sent doubt whispering at the edges of his thoughts. And doubt atop doubt, that his hesitance would be misread, that his capabilities would be misinterpreted just because he’s fucking overthinking it, that—
He stepped into the space cleared out for the potential pilots to be put to the test, feeling a line of sweat trail ticklish down his neck, armed only with the bo staff and the uniform of the PPDC, his personality set off neatly to the side – except for how, right now, his personality also had to be front-and-center. They needed to bond, somehow, not just see who could kick the other one’s ass. They needed to be in sync. They needed to comprehend one another on an extremely base level. They needed to Drift, in and out of the Jaeger.
His first ‘opponent’ is a girl who looks a couple years younger than himself, with militaristically cropped blonde hair and an engaging smile. But they only spar briefly before the instructor calls it, and Jason recognizes it too – they were too tentative, too suspicious of one another. Several matches pass in similar ways, his potential partners narrowing before his eyes, all his time at the PPDC being put increasingly at risk, ultimately for something he couldn’t even help. He tried to not let the concern show overmuch.
Down to one of his last matches, a young man slightly shorter than him stepped forward, rolling his shoulders smoothly. Even amidst the burgeoning worry, Jason was deeply aware of how attractive the other man was; brown-skinned and black-haired, with startlingly blue eyes and a deeply captivating smile. “Grayson, Richard.”
“Dick,” the man corrected as he settled into a loose stance, Jason following suit.
When Richard – Dick – began, he began with such a smoothness that his transition from stillness to action seemed nearly preternatural. He had aflow, a fluid edge to his motions that Jason had only rarely seen, but it was invigorating to go up against him.
Dick landed the first hit, smiling with a surprisingly harsh edge when he said “One-zero,” but Jason evened the score readily enough. Dick was all surreal grace, but Jay had muscle mass as well as experience on his side, and once he began to understand the way Dick moved he could begin to see the tells in his muscle, the way his stomach clenched before he rolled to the side. They fought like that, occasionally calling out hits, until the instructor stopped them, lost to the nature of the competition as they were.
“This one,” Jason announced loudly, breathlessly, smilingly. Their instructor was an old hand with the PPDC, here for the duration of Jay’s time and clearly quite a bit before that, might – if stories were to be believed – have been stationed here from the first deployment of a Jaeger, witness to the impossibility of the task when the neural load was placed only on one pilot. So it was a validation when she smiled and agreed, looking quietly relieved. Jay knew they needed more pilots, needed more Jaeger’s on the ground. He understood what he’d signed himself up for, and what he and Dick had just cemented as their upcoming reality – and very possibly their eventual death. He understood all of that. But forefront in him was not anxiety but elation, a deep and intense satisfaction. He’d found his co-pilot.
*
They’d been moved from the communal cadet barrack situation into a private room, which was somehow… better and way, way worse. They had their first Drift attempt scheduled for early tomorrow morning, but they’d been bunking together for the past three days, and even in such a short amount of time Jay realized that there would be unprecedented challenges in living with Dick Grayson.
He exercised. They both did, they both wanted to keep in top physical form, but Dick always rolled right out of bed, hair mussed and shirtless, and began this elaborate series of stretches. Times like this, it was hell being bisexual. And he was getting increasingly nervous about the Drift, since Dick would undoubtedly be privy to his attraction. But they were both adults and, more, soldiers, Jaeger pilots. They’d move past it, wouldn’t risk the safety of others just because Jay kinda gets off on how bendy Dick is.
It was also a lot quieter, just two people to a room. Dick seemed to fall asleep really fast, or else was really, really quiet when he was trying to sleep, and so far Jay hadn’t had the guts to whip it out even once. In the barracks it’d only been awkward for the first couple of nights, until he heard some other people getting off quick and dirty and realized no one really gave a damn. It was one of those small discomforts of shared space. But between only the two of them, whatever he did, whenever he did it, he wouldn’t have the mask of anonymity to cover his actions. Dick might very well be awake the entire time he jacked it.
If only he stopped with the fucking stretches…
But the tried-and-true method for dealing with arousal still held true, so he exercised quite a bit himself, has been pushing himself a bit further than his normal routine would allow. Easy to blame it on a kind of eagerness for getting into the cockpit formally, after a year of working towards that goal.
But it wasn’t all awkwardness and even more awkward sexual tension – he and Dick talked quite a bit. About their scores, about how they got into the PPDC (Dick was the prodigal child of the CEO of Wayne Corp., a prestigious man who’d been in big business before the Kaiju invasion but had renovated his entire company to help the survivors. Originally Jason had figured it was only a gambit to make money off disaster, but the way Dick talked about the CEO, Bruce Wayne, painted a much more altruistic picture. Dick had opted to help in a more immediate fashion as well), about the lives they’d left behind (the good parts – the bad parts remained, and didn’t bear being brought up), about the PPDC itself, about which side they’d prefer to take on a Jaeger, about their interests, about how nice it was to actually have good bread with their meals. Jason learned quickly that Dick talked a lot, would just chatter aimlessly whenever his attention wasn’t 100% devoted to a single task, but he didn’t mind. It rode right over the initial meet-and-greet that he figures most co-pilots would have to deal with, and he learned quite a bit about Dick himself through the chatter.
They both woke up on the day of, and Jay couldn’t help but notice Dick’s uncharacteristic quiet. The absence of the familiar chatter wore on him unexpectedly, but he couldn’t very well ask Dick to just talk to fill the silence. They were due in the Jaeger before breakfast (probably from experience – he could just imagine the neural load making at least a couple of pilots throw up), so there wasn’t a lot of time to kill before they were standing in front of their Jaeger.
She was beautiful.
He looked over at Dick to say as much, only to notice him frowning, the expression unsettling to see on him. Dick caught him looking when Jay tilted his head, and he raised one shoulder in a mild shrug. “Gipsy Danger.” He paused, looking back at her and chewing his lip. “…I’m Roma.”
Jason needed a moment to connect the two, but when he did his feelings towards the the PPDC fell somewhat. A gorgeous Jaeger with a slur written across her chest, and them naïve enough or just willfully cruel enough to put a Roma pilot in it. “Fuck.” Dick nodded slowly, his sigh deep but his shoulders still held back, his pose that of ready preparation.
“No use in worrying, I guess.” He tried for levity but fell somewhat short of the goal, though Jason chose to just let it stand. They were due to board soon, regardless.
*
“Right hemisphere, ready,” he announced distractedly, once he felt the aides stepping away. The half-sense of the spine locking into place made him shiver for the dulled sensation it sent through the suit. Everything seemed somehow more tactile than he would have expected.
“Left hemisphere, ready.” Dick’s voice sounded sure but Jason thought it also sounded off. Just something about the cadence didn’t sound familiar. It was strange to realize that there was a way, already, for Dick to sound unfamiliar to him. But given how likely it seemed that it would be either mild nerves or a lingering ill feeling regarding the Jaeger’s name, he didn’t think too much upon it, more worried about pushing away thoughts of Dick in general. And conveniently, all his head seemed able to produce was vague curiosity about Dick’s dick. He’s going to hell. And so soon his co-pilot/roommate/new friend would know exactly why he was going to hell, too. Awesome.
“Beginning neural handshake,” came Barbara’s disembodied voice. She was the effective head of the neural part of the Jaeger, and oversaw all new neural handshakes. Her voice settled his nerves, somewhat, or maybe it was just knowing that they were in easily the most capable hands in the entire PPDC. “Get ready, guys.” Dick’s short laugh was as comforting as it was startling, but the moment was brief before—
He felt like he was falling, no, no not falling, we’re/I’m/he’s flying we’re flying we’re—
This was deep in the rabbit hole, he had to—
But flying, they’re—
No—
He has a wicked headache when he stumbles, the fastenings that held his body upright having been loosened by the aides. Momentarily he’s not sure where (who) he is, but then he hears wet gasping nearby and jerks his head up to see Dick in a similar position. He can see his shoulders tremble even through the suit.
“Good first try, you two.” Bab’s voice is sincere – and he’s looking for the sarcasm, so he’s certain there’s none there. “Take five and we’ll try again.” He groans as he sits back, the aides giving them some space to recover, and Dick’s laughter again echoes in the chamber, this time sounding more hollowed.
“Sorry, man.” His voice is tight and strained and it comes somehow as a shock to Jason that those were memories. And he places in that same moment the stiff edge to his voice, the way he wasn’t looking over at Jay. The earlier wetness in his voice.
“I… shit, no. I let you fall down.”
“I wanted to fall down,” Dick corrects gently. That gentleness is what shuts Jason up, dropping his head back against the supports and just breathing for long moments. It’s Dick who finally breaks the silence. “I was born in the circus.” He doesn’t say anything, but is certain that Dick knows he’s listening. “Bruce found me after my parents— after there was an accident. He took me in, a brand-new orphan.” His laugh was harsh and he seemed to realize that, pushing ahead fast. “He’s amazing, Bruce. But I…”
“You miss flying.”
“I miss falling.”
He’s silent, then – they both are, until Barbara’s voice comes on the comm system again.
*
They go back to their room together, silent for all the considerations racing nearly palpably between them. So much was learned in one day, so much had been taught. Jason closed the door when Dick got in and leaned against it, looking at the scuffed floor right behind where Dick stood, just barely seeing the backs of his shoes. He was still facing away. “So… Jaegers, huh.”
“Yeah.” The whole way back he wasn’t sure if it would hurt, if it’d break them, or if— “Hey, Jay?”
Jay, huh? Jay. Okay, he can do this. “Yeah?”
“You should start kissing me.”
“…yeah.”
They’d gotten a shaky hold of the neural handshake on the third attempt – first down Dick’s rabbit hole, then down a messy one of Jason’s, full of his fears (dead family, dead friends, blood on his hands and he doesn’t know who it belongs to anymore), but a tenuous connection held on the third try. Third times the charm, apparently quite literally. The thing about Drifting, though, was it really didn’t parse what it gave to the other person. There was so much emotion in the Drift between them that Jason was vaguely surprised it didn’t burst, didn’t come to some sick half-life in the body of the Jaeger herself. And in that mess were even messier undertones. In that mess was desire, reciprocal desire. It was baffling until it wasn’t – being in someone’s head does that to you.
There wasn’t love because how could there be? But friendship and desire and. Maybe the baselines that indicated something that could be real. But that wasn’t what was strung-out between them, that wasn’t why he’d been staring at the floor, that wasn’t why Dick asked Jason to kiss him. It wasn’t about the laters or the maybes, it was about right now.
Dick’s shaking again when Jason touches him, but he leans back into the gentle pressure between his shoulder blades. He realizes he’s shaking, too… which is probably to be expected. They’d both just vividly relieved some of the worst moments of their lives.
He wanted something real, something good and warm and lively and living. He wanted Dick, specifically, but he needed anything that would take this burning-anxious-tense edge away. He applies a firmer pressure, trying to steady Dick – maybe trying to steady himself, as well. But he doesn’t resist the temptation to curl his fingers loosely around Dick’s shoulder, or the urge to pull the slightly shorter man flush against him, or even the urge to rest his hand (possessive, this is so possessive—) at the base of Dick’s throat, pressing against his clavicle. If he shifted just a tiny bit, he’d be able to feel his heartbeat, he’d know for certain whether Dick’s heart was going hummingbird-fast like his was. But he didn’t want to know, he just wanted to believe it was, needed the need to be as reciprocal now as it had been in the Drift.
Dick was pliant against him, but it was— chosen, he thought. Not the quiet stillness of panic and uncertainty but a willingness to let himself be taken care of (he deserved it, too – Jason had seen the frankly Herculean efforts the other went to, the altruism that ran hot and persistent as the blood beneath his skin). Still, of all the things he wouldn’t do…
“You know my safeword,” he points out gently. Dick takes a moment to nod, but when he does Jay can feel it in his hand and against his body both.
“’Bullseye’,” Dick quotes and it— yeah, okay, it should sound amusing, some childish-effort thing. But instead it sounds thick and. Good.
“You were in my head.” Another tight nod. “You know how serious this is for me. You need to— if you need it, ever, you have to use it. You have to let me know to stop.”
“You too,” Dick says, voice strained. It doesn’t cover the slightly competitive edge to it though, and fuck if that doesn’t just make Jay harder.
“Yeah.” So what if he is a bit breathless. So what. This is sex. Unexpected, messy, possibly fucked-up sex between two… pilots or soldiers or just dumb kids fighting a war they couldn’t handle. It had that edge to it that reminded Jay of making a mistake, but at the same time the rise-and-fall of Dick’s breathing against his chest felt so soothing and right. Okay, so they were definitely doing this then. Okay.
*
Jason tried to not be flowery (at least not out loud), but he couldn’t avoid the revelation that Dick was absolutely beautiful when he was undressed. He’d seen him shirtless plenty of times, but not like this, not with all his clothing thrown carelessly to the side and not close enough to see the sheen of sweat and definitely not when he was able to feel the ridges of old scar-tissue and the tense muscle in his abdomen. He’d stopped shaking, aside from the faint tremors when Jason grazed some sensitive erogenous zone, but he thought the heavy-petting had settled them both enough for the main course.
He stroked heavily down Dick’s chest and abdomen, biting his lip hard enough to hurt a bit when the other man arched forward into it. The encouragement was evident.
He’d wanted to ease them both into this, so even though he’d undressed Dick and laid him out on the lower bunk, he hadn’t yet gone further than that. The urge to do so was nearly fucking painful to have denied, but he’d focused on Dick’s chest and neck, on reaching beneath him to pet slowly over his back, stroking his throat (hooking his thumb into his mouth, which really only pushed the envelope a little thank you very much). Now he didn’t hesitate to focus on Dick’s – heh – dick.
They’d both been hard for what felt like ages now, but how hard Dick was… okay, so Jason got off on it a little. Soft, hot skin, uncircumcised, and his head was already wet enough that when he pressed his index finger against his slit and pulled away, a thin stream of pre connected them briefly before snapping. Dick’s breath kept catching as Jason took his time exploring, glancing between the cock in his hand and his co-pilot’s face, noting that it was really fucking hot when Dick bit his lips like that. “You wanna fuck me?” Shit, his voice was husky. For a moment he’s embarrassed by how raw he is but Dick’s eyes flutter and he presses up harder into the contact. Okay, he can be husky if it turns Dick on that much, no fucking problem.
He’s always been a switch – usually he likes to top the first time, if only to show his partner how to properly prep, but he’d been in Dick’s head. He knew the way the other man had looked at him, the heat in his stomach when he’d thought about Jason beneath him, clawing at his back (an image which was going nowhere fast, honestly), shoving his hips back into the slow fuck to make it harder, rougher. He saw how much Dick would need him to want this and he was willing to show the other man the exact truth of that situation.
Lube was easily reached, since it turns out they both had some, a fact which shocked Jason not at all. But he took over from there, squeezing slightly more than necessary onto his fingers before rolling them together to coat, the slick shine of it catching Dick’s attention. More so when Jason pulled his fingers apart, a thread of it lengthening briefly. But as gratifying as it was to tease, to see Dick getting increasingly needy beneath him, he was impatient as well. So he brought his fingers to his own entrance; one fast rub to smear the lube over the warm hole, then several deeper, slower presses, reminding his body to open up, to accept the intrusion. His eyes wanted to close but he refused the urge, needing to see how intently Dick watched his wrist and arm, blue eyes flashing up periodically to look at his face. “You’re so—“ Fuck, Dick’s voice was wrecked, thready and low. But he’d clearly hit saturation of being teased, reaching up to grip Jason’s hips hard enough to ache a bit. God, he loved it. He wanted to tell Dick to go harder, to leave bruises, but he already was, he already fucking knew. He tipped his head back and groaned, loud and unrestrained, when Dick’s thumbs pressed in hard as fuck just beneath his hipbones.
Motherfucking bless the Drift.
He pushed two fingers in straightaway. Alone, he always made himself go slower, wanting to avoid the aching afterwards as much as he can – but now he knows the ache is coming, knows it’ll go harder before it stops, and he wants it. Christ, he wants to fucking burn when he sits down, he wants to feel Dick’s need for him every time he takes a step.
Flowery bullshit, but also very true. He does force himself to scissor a bit, pulling himself open – and he lets himself fall forward when Dick tugs particularly hard at his hips, bracing his free hand on the pillow next to Dick, eyeing his hair. He’d caught glimpses of it long and tied back in the Drift, and all he could imagine was pulling it out of the tail and working all that dark length around his fist, pulling it tight when Dick made him moan. Now it was shorter, a better fit with PPDC regulations, but still enough for a nice, hard grip, one he was certain to make use of later.
He leaned against the other man, letting him take some of his weight as he continued to finger himself open; now he’d moved on to actually thrusting into himself. The angle was awkward and made his wrist tense, but every couple strokes he scraped up against his prostate and that was more than enough to keep him going. Before long he was panting, each shaky exhalation flush against Dick’s skin, his neck, his collar. And Dick’s hands were all over him – stroking down his back, skirting to chase a scar, playing along his ribcage. But he seemed to especially like touching Jason’s working arm, and palming his ass. He even used both hands to spread him further open, making him moan his surprise against him.
And Dick was grabby, he really was. Strong hands, too, his fingertips digging into Jason’s ass hard before easing. Jason shivered when Dick’s fingers probed towards his own, and couldn’t swallow the gasp in time when Dick’s forefinger came to rub against his stretched rim. He stilled his fingers while Dick slipped one of his own in, breathing hard not only at the furthered stretch but at the sheer intimacy of the thing. He let Dick set the pace then, moved with his hand instead. It was different, less efficient than what Jay had been going for, but it felt good. Slower and deeper and harder, more possessive than not. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders that he shouldn’t balk from that, shouldn’t pull away from what that possessive attitude implied. But he didn’t want to. He just didn’t want to think about that right now. Not now, with his and Dick’s fingers buried in his ass, pushing and stroking and outright fucking him.
“Come— Jesus Christ, Dick, c’mon, get in me!” His voice was sharper than intended, needier instead of the demand he’d been going for, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because Dick really, really needed to be fucking him already – and Dick seemed more than amenable to it. While he clearly enjoyed the show for what it was, they could both feel how stiff his dick was between them, their bellies sticky-damp from the pre.
He’d assumed that Dick would just shift around a little, push up into him from this angle and watch Jason ride him for all he was worth. So he’s surprised when, after Dick removes his finger (Christ, he shouldn’t already feel empty—), he grabs Jay’s hips again and makes to turn them both. A surprise, yes, but not a bad one at all, and Jay wiggles around with him until he’s flat on his back. He coyly wraps his legs around Dick’s waist, digging his heels into his lower back demandingly. Dick licked his lips, momentarily fucking lost, just staring at Jay, taking him in, petting along his tensed thigh—
“Dickkkkk,” he whined outright, tipping his head back and grinding rough and dirty back against him. It caught his wandering attention pretty well. “Stare later.”
“Yeah.” His voice was so breathy, fuck. It was hot as hell. So was watching him lean back, cock in hand as he angled and— oh. Smearing his cock-head against Jay’s hole, catching teasingly on the rim, getting him wet all over again. Fuck, fuck, fuck— “Got you, Jay.” He’s about to bark something out – then fuck me already, asshole – when Dick beats him to it, pushing in.
He’s slow and rock-steady and Jason kind of hates it, squirming, trying to push back but he’s still grabbing his hips, stilling him as he takes his time. And Jason must be a slice of heaven or something with the faces Dick’s making, all agonized lip-biting pleasure. “Feel so good, Jay…” Dick feels good too, he just wishes he’d get on with it. But, and he hates to admit this, drawing it out like this feels kind of amazing. It’s not of the sharp sudden give he’s used to, but just a steadying, constant pressure, deeper and deeper until he feels like he can’t breathe for the inexorable weight of it and all he wants to do is rock his hips back, get more and more. He swears he can feel Dick’s cock twitch, spitting more pre into him to slick the way, naturally tense muscles giving way to his slow push.
It can’t be taking as long as it feels like it is, but he still breathes out a sigh of fucking relief when Dick finally bottoms out, the fucker. “Jesus—“ Dick moans, for being balls-deep in Jason or for the expletive or for both, he’s not sure. But he doesn’t entirely stop Jason from pushing back, even though he’s still limiting his movement and he’s making sure to set the pace, keeping his thrusts slow and deep. It’s nothing like the rough fucks Jason is most familiar with, the sheer desperate need he usually builds up with people, but the way Dick makes sure to bottom out with every thrust and pull so that it must only be his head inside Jason, keeping him stretched and teasing his rim before going again is maddeningly sweet. It feels like edging and his dick is so, so hard, flush against his belly and noticeably wet. He moves to jack himself off but Dick stops that, too, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head – which is pretty hot, okay. He can get behind Dick Grayson playing a little rough. But the new maneuver lets Jason move his hips, and he does so with some fucking gusto, bracing his shoulders against the mattress and using his legs still hooked around Dick to make the fuck faster and harder, smiling in a way that must absolutely show all his teeth when it makes Dick let out this borderline pained-sounding moan.
And pretty soon they’re losing the finesse, sinking into something where it’s just need and sweat and their bodies pressing together, the loud, squelching, obscene sounds of their sex, the periodic moans and cries of one another’s names. And maybe it’s the excitement or the build-up or just the fact that he hasn’t jacked it even once since they began sharing a room, but he can already feel the tell-tale heat expanding in his belly, cock twitching against his stomach.
“Jay— I, shit, I’m close, I—“
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growls when Dick makes as if to pull out, tightening his legs around the other man. Dick groans out something that might’ve been a protest but doesn’t press it, hips shifting back-and-forth quickly, rhythm blown to hell as he got close to his own orgasm. But he wanted to feel it inside before he let himself come so he began to work Dick with purpose, clenching every time his shallow thrusts ended, listening to Dick’s breath ratchet and catch uneasily, panting hard before stilling with a long, drawn-out groan.
He tips his head back, closing his eyes to focus on what it feels like – the flush of heat that he’s never certain if he’s imagining or not, the blunted sensation of liquid when Dick thrusts lazily a few times, effectively milking himself inside of Jason, and the warm, oddly proud feeling he always gets when he lets someone fill him up. The knowledge that he’s earned it, if with nothing more than his body and his technique in bed. This time, though, there’s… more to it than that.
He pushes those thoughts aside – they’ll have time for all that shit. Right now, though, Dick has another hard as fuck dick to be attending to, but his own slowing thrusts weren’t doing much towards getting Jason off. “Fucking— Jesus, Dick, get me off,” he snapped, seeming to stir Dick from his haze. He watched as the other man pulled away and actually honest-to-God shook his head like a dog, but it seemed to work since he released Jason’s wrists to get his hands properly involved. Jason let his own hands wander to his chest, pinching and twisting his nipples, letting the slightly painful sparks push him that much further. But his eyes were closed, so he didn’t realize how Dick was moving until he felt the wet, firm heat of atongue against his cockhead, eyes snapping open as he looked down.
Dick’s flexibility was something to behold, clearly – bent nearly in half with Jason’s legs still hooked around him, he’d somehow managed to angle himself so he could lick and suck at Jason’s head while jacking him, free hand lightly squeezing at his sac. He stopped playing with his chest in favor of grabbing two fistfuls of Dick’s hair.
But what did him in was Dick slipping a finger back to his ass; easing through his crack and pressing insistently at his hole, pushing in until Jasonheard as much as felt him hit his own come. “Fuckfuckmotherfuck,” he managed as he came, some slightly functioning part of his brain noting that Dick didn’t pull away – that, if anything, he was sucking harder at Jason’s head as he came, swallowing steadily. And he didn’t even pull away until Jason forced his legs to relax, easing them down to the bed, thighs shaking. Dick followed his cue and settled back himself, still lightly petting at Jason’s legs and stomach. Almost like he was a horse that needed calming or some shit, but he didn’t protest since it did feel pretty nice.
“Glad you’re my co-pilot,” Dick offered once they’d each gotten their breath back, and they lost it all over again by laughing. At the fucking incredulity of this, of everything – and at how right it felt, damn it all.
thank you all for the recommendations! ;u;; and I’ve been using duolingo some -- trying to get a bit of spanish down before i start taking classes for it, and it’s fun! also surprisingly diverse? like the little avatars on the app are so cute and diverse, it makes me very happy :o
whaillord replied to your post:Hi can someone hire me full time. I’m cute,...
Technically I can. I am director for grassroots in sac. ( it’s fundraising for ACLU ) Look us up. If you are interested
Like, sacramento, ca? My best friend in the whole entire universe lives there, so that would definitely be a great place to find something! Thanks for the tip, I’ll look it up in the morning! :3
whaillord replied to your post:please chat with me people, tell me all your hopes...
Just all my life hopes and dreams?
just anything you’ve ever wanted to talk about! Can be about yourself, can be about others, can be worldly, can be local, can be fandom! Any and all things!
whaillord replied to your post: I feel very isolated, though. I suppo...
Did you move out? Why are you on your own?
well! there’s been loose plans of me moving out with two of my partners for some time now, but the ‘moving out’ part kinda just happened because pretty much everything bad happened at my (old) house all at once. and it was a really bad situation. dangerous, too.
so! I’m living with my other brother and his wife. and they’re wonderful, really, but this is my first time... not even ‘on my own’ so much as ‘away from the small, tight set of family members I’ve been around my whole life’, so it’s a lot to process
