Status: Complete One-shot
Burn
Burn
“You should be on your knees more often,” Roy says from behind Jason; he has the most obnoxious Southern drawl ever.
Jason rolls his neck, really putting his back into his lock picking, and ignores the flush of heat that rolls through him whenever Roy says something dirty. “Shut up, Roy.”
Roy cackles, and Jason turns to watch him shake his shaggy red head. “Sorry, bro. Shit comes out sometimes.”
They’ve been infiltrating one of Lex Luthor’s corporations for weeks now, Jason playing the part of the janitor who only speaks Spanish, Roy as a low-level intern in an annoyingly attractive suit.
Oracle, miles away but still giving them info, is pretty sure Luthor’s making some sort of new alien drug here. It doesn’t really matter whether that’s the truth, Luthor’s sure to be up to something evil. The lock snaps with a satisfying crack, falling at Jason’s feet.
“We’re in,” he says to Roy, the two of them exchanging grins. It’s just like old times, Red Arrow and Robin together, back before Jason died and Roy got hooked on heroin.
It’s two years after Jason came back, after he assembled an army and tried to kill Bruce. He’s better now, probably. He eats a lot of fruit, anyway. That’s what healthy people do, right? And Roy’s clean now, carefully balanced on the edge. He looks better than he has in a while, filled out again, big shoulders and that lazy redneck act he puts on so no one’ll know what’s behind it. Maybe sometimes Jason looks at him and feels his whole body ache, but that’s his business. “You ready, Arsenal?”
“Ready, Red Hood.” They duck inside, Jason’s hand on his gun.
It’s just a lab, rows and rows of gleaming steel tables and glass. Luthor always keeps things neat. It’s empty, the lights dim. Everyone’s home. He motions Roy forward, sighing impatiently when he hesitates. “Let’s go,” he hisses, but Roy shakes his head.
“No can do, bro.”
There’s something wrong, Roy can sense it, and he knows to trust his gut nowadays. He scans the room, trying not to linger on Jason’s ass as Jason picks up a handful of powder, slides his glove off to touch it bare-handed.
“It’s just cocaine,” he says, relieved, the designs on his helmet shifting in an ever-changing pattern that Roy’s always found vaguely unsettling. It’s weird. Then again, you have to be a little weird to be a superhero. There’s a brief pause before Jason just…melts, his body going loose. “Tha’s not cocaine…” he slurs, the accent Bruce made him get rid of creeping back in. Roy moves forward but Jason’s already moving towards him. “Roy, what…”
He stumbles into Roy’s arms, helmet bumping painfully into his chin. “Whoa there, buddy.” Jason’s hot through the parts his armor doesn’t cover at the joints. “Jay?” He hasn’t been allowed to call him Jay since he came back, gets cussed out every time it slips.
“Hood’s heart rate and temperature just spiked. Everything okay?” Oracle asks through the comms; she always has the same level tone and it’s very reassuring.
“Uh. No?” Roy tries, patting awkwardly at the back slats of Jason’s helmet. He swears to Christ Himself that Jason purrs. “Hood got some white shit on himself and now he’s really happy.”
“Any marks? Swelling?” she asks, almost sharp.
“Naw.”
“It’s just the fever?”
“Yeah.”
“He’ll probably be okay. Bring him back to the safehouse, if the fever hasn’t gone down in five hours call me back.”
“Is it sex pollen?” he blurts out, thinking of his fingers in Jason’s mouth, the soft gasps Roy knows Jason makes after years of sharing rooms, years of hearing him jerk off at night. But then he thinks of Jason forced to be like that, and swallows uncomfortably.
“No. We knew Luthor was working on a low-risk painkiller as part of his legitimate operations. I think that’s what he took.” Softer, she adds, “He’ll be fine, Arsenal.”
Oracle hangs up with the decisive click she’s known for, so Roy turns to his best friend. “Alright, compadre, let’s get you out of here.”
++
Back at the safehouse Roy unhooks the latch under Jason’s helmet, the one only they know of. (He’s more than a little proud to be trusted with it.) Jason’s flushed, a dumbass grin Roy hasn’t seen in years on his face.
Roy shoves him to the couch where he goes easily, hair getting in his eyes. Needs a trim. “I should call Rosie,” he mumbles, listing to the side.
“Wow, no, now is not the time to be calling exes.” Roy hurries to interfere before Jason can get his hands on his phone, finally tossing it aside and sitting next to him.
“Roy.”
“Huh?” Jason straddles his lap, deceptively fast like the Bat bastard he really is. “Whoa, Jay, personal space,” Roy says, yelping when Jason’s armor digs at his inner thigh. 225 lbs, add roughly 25 lbs of body armor, and Roy’s dealing with one heavy dude. Jason’s mouth is at his throat and Roy squeezes his hips hard, knowing he can’t feel it.
All this heat, this temptation, it’s worth it just to see Jason smile like that and Roy knows he’s getting sappy. Jason’s running hotter than the Devil in Death Valley, moving his hips in little circles that hurt with the armor. But Roy’s always liked a little pain, trying to remind himself that this is Jason, his best friend. They’re just friends, he’s always reminding himself. Just friends. “You’re drivin’ me crazy,” he rumbles, kissing the hinge of Jay’s jaw and hoping he won’t notice.
Eventually he’s hard and overheating and he has to push Jason off him, knowing that even in this state he’ll turn it into a roll. Jason’s always beautiful, even covered in blood or playing video games at three in the morning. Right now, he’s breathtaking. Staring up at Roy like the sun shines out his ass, licking at his lips. Must be thirsty. “Stay there, bro. I’m gonna get you something to drink.”
Roy comes back with a glass of water to find Jason on his back, eyes closed. “I have…so many fingers,” he mutters, startling a laugh out of Roy.
“You’re such a stereotype, Jay.”
“No, Roy, you don’t get it. So. Many.” Roy sprawls himself next to him, barely touching; he thinks the fever’s gone down, at least. Jason turns his head, blinking rapidly. “I’m so happy,” he says in wonder. “I’m never happy like this.”
Roy wants, viscerally, to tear Joker apart, tear Batman apart, even though he knows that’s a damn fool thought. “Jay, honey…”
But Jason’s asleep, head in his arms with his lips pursed. Already his skin’s cooling down. Roy lifts him onto the couch, huffing a little but he’s a goddamn superhero, he can handle it. He strips the armor off Jason, slow and careful, leaving him in the black bodysuit that all the Bats wear, no matter how far estranged. Patting Jason’s forehead, he curls up on the couch opposite, waiting for Oracle’s extraction team in the morning.
++
At five a.m. Jasons’s fever must break, because he whimpers for a few worrying moments before going still. The weak sun coming through the slats over the windows lights the sheen of sweat on his dark skin. It’s easier when Jason’s asleep, Roy doesn’t have to be careful.
Sometimes Jason’s unstable. Mostly he’s like himself, from before, the too cheery optimism that he copied poorly from Dick scrubbed away. Sometimes he’s worse. Angry. But hey. So is Roy. He takes some comfort from knowing they changed together.
Roy dozes on and off til the sun has risen high enough that it hits Jason full in the face. “Wuzzat?” he mumbles, smacking his lips and rolling over, all broad shoulders and tiny waist. A long strand of black hair falls in his face, over the full curve of his top lip. Jeez. All the Bats are beautiful, but Jason is just ridiculous. Eventually Jason is awake, sitting up to rub at the side of his head where hair’s pressed flat. “Roy?” His voice is low, rumbling in the way that makes Roy shiver.
“Morning.”
“Wha’ happened?” Jason slurs, fishing around for his helmet, running his thumbs reverently over its face. Roy’s almost jealous.
“You were drugged. I brought you home.”
“So a useless night then.” Jason smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Bitter isn’t a good look on him. “Did we get anything on Luthor?” Roy shrugs; Jason always sulks when a mission goes bad. He used to cry about disappointing Batman, which Roy thought was kind of fucked up, but then Jason died and now he doesn’t give a damn what Batman thinks. “That’s a no, then.”
“Oracle really only wanted to know if Luthor was doing something bad.”
Jason huffs an angry laugh, passing his helmet from hand to hand. “Luthor’s always doing something bad.”
“True.” Jason tsks, sounding disturbingly like Damian, standing and letting the blankets fall to the ground. “What happened, again?”
“Luthor had some bad mumbo-jumbo cooked up, and you got it in you. Then I brought you home.”
“Sex pollen?” Jason asks seriously, checking the nearest reflective surface for marks.
Behind him, Roy can see himself shake his head. “Naw.”
“You just brought me home and…tucked me in?” Jason asks, examining the blankets pooled at his feet.
“Yeah.”
The answering smile from Jason is unexpectedly sweet, Roy swaying towards him like a weed towards the sun. “Thanks.”
Jason’s standing there glowing in soft light, sleep rumpled and grinning. Roy is helpless. “I love you,” he blurts out, immediately regretting it when Jason’s eyes widen. Fuck, Roy has messed things up again, like he always does. He moves to run; Oracle’s team will pick him up from somewhere else.
“I love-” Jason clears his throat, flushing high along his cheekbones. “Same.”
There’s a brief moment for Roy to process this before Jason’s moving, pushing Roy down onto the couch, crawling in his lap and reaching for skin like he’s starving for it. He kisses the same way, hungry and biting til Roy soothes hands over his hips, murmuring soft nonsense. “Jay, Jay, honey.”
He gentles it, licking into Jason’s mouth as his fingers skate over his arms. Roy’s near vibrating, at the level he reaches when he gets a real good shot off. Jason makes a low noise in the back of his throat and pulls him closer.
++
Oracle’s extraction team comes two hours later, consisting solely of Stephanie Brown. She’s not even in uniform, just shorts and a blue sweater. Roy’s kind of offended; he bets Batman gets fancy official stuff. He’s always found Steph a little creepy. There’s something behind her wide blue eyes that’s not all there. It’s been that way since Black Mask, like she went away and couldn’t come back.
She scratches idly at one of the scars crisscrossing her shoulders, down into her sweater. “Uh, hey,” Roy says when he answers the door, suddenly very aware that Jason just finished sucking a hickey onto his neck.
“Hey. Are you all set to go?”
Roy nods just as Jason calls from the other room, “Roy, come back in here and suck me off again.” One corner of Steph’s mouth quirks up as her gaze flicks past him. Roy can feel his skin burn; he’s always been quick to blush.
“Steph’s here!” he calls back as she steps deftly around and past him. Jason comes out holding his pants round his waist. There’s a thick mark on his hip, scratches down the sharp lines of his back. Just looking at him Roy is struck dumber than a dog in heat. He catches Jason’s eyes, holding them, feeling a little dizzy.
“Oracle says to-” Steph sighs, snapping her fingers. “Jesus Christ, guys. Focus.” Something in her sharp blue gaze softens as she bends to pick up Jason’s helmet, thoughtful. “You’ll have all the time in the world later.”
Jason watches Steph smooth her thumbs over the front viewscreen of his helmet, her eyes far off. Sometimes Steph goes off in her head and needs to be snapped out of it, but today she looks back up with a smile. “Anyway, let’s get going.”
Jason goes through the laborious process of pulling all his armor on, watching Roy from the corner of his eye. Roy’s limping a little, his mouth still swollen and red. Jason did that. Jason pressed him down on the bed and heard him beg for it. They lock eyes and Roy grins, slow and dirty.
Jason leans towards him, hearing Steph make an annoyed grunt that he knows she doesn’t really mean. Jason just pecks his cheek, though, feeling the start of stubble and the edge of Roy’s smile. For the first time in a long while, there are no dark corners.
Jason rolls his neck, really putting his back into his lock picking, and ignores the flush of heat that rolls through him whenever Roy says something dirty. “Shut up, Roy.”
Roy cackles, and Jason turns to watch him shake his shaggy red head. “Sorry, bro. Shit comes out sometimes.”
They’ve been infiltrating one of Lex Luthor’s corporations for weeks now, Jason playing the part of the janitor who only speaks Spanish, Roy as a low-level intern in an annoyingly attractive suit.
Oracle, miles away but still giving them info, is pretty sure Luthor’s making some sort of new alien drug here. It doesn’t really matter whether that’s the truth, Luthor’s sure to be up to something evil. The lock snaps with a satisfying crack, falling at Jason’s feet.
“We’re in,” he says to Roy, the two of them exchanging grins. It’s just like old times, Red Arrow and Robin together, back before Jason died and Roy got hooked on heroin.
It’s two years after Jason came back, after he assembled an army and tried to kill Bruce. He’s better now, probably. He eats a lot of fruit, anyway. That’s what healthy people do, right? And Roy’s clean now, carefully balanced on the edge. He looks better than he has in a while, filled out again, big shoulders and that lazy redneck act he puts on so no one’ll know what’s behind it. Maybe sometimes Jason looks at him and feels his whole body ache, but that’s his business. “You ready, Arsenal?”
“Ready, Red Hood.” They duck inside, Jason’s hand on his gun.
It’s just a lab, rows and rows of gleaming steel tables and glass. Luthor always keeps things neat. It’s empty, the lights dim. Everyone’s home. He motions Roy forward, sighing impatiently when he hesitates. “Let’s go,” he hisses, but Roy shakes his head.
“No can do, bro.”
There’s something wrong, Roy can sense it, and he knows to trust his gut nowadays. He scans the room, trying not to linger on Jason’s ass as Jason picks up a handful of powder, slides his glove off to touch it bare-handed.
“It’s just cocaine,” he says, relieved, the designs on his helmet shifting in an ever-changing pattern that Roy’s always found vaguely unsettling. It’s weird. Then again, you have to be a little weird to be a superhero. There’s a brief pause before Jason just…melts, his body going loose. “Tha’s not cocaine…” he slurs, the accent Bruce made him get rid of creeping back in. Roy moves forward but Jason’s already moving towards him. “Roy, what…”
He stumbles into Roy’s arms, helmet bumping painfully into his chin. “Whoa there, buddy.” Jason’s hot through the parts his armor doesn’t cover at the joints. “Jay?” He hasn’t been allowed to call him Jay since he came back, gets cussed out every time it slips.
“Hood’s heart rate and temperature just spiked. Everything okay?” Oracle asks through the comms; she always has the same level tone and it’s very reassuring.
“Uh. No?” Roy tries, patting awkwardly at the back slats of Jason’s helmet. He swears to Christ Himself that Jason purrs. “Hood got some white shit on himself and now he’s really happy.”
“Any marks? Swelling?” she asks, almost sharp.
“Naw.”
“It’s just the fever?”
“Yeah.”
“He’ll probably be okay. Bring him back to the safehouse, if the fever hasn’t gone down in five hours call me back.”
“Is it sex pollen?” he blurts out, thinking of his fingers in Jason’s mouth, the soft gasps Roy knows Jason makes after years of sharing rooms, years of hearing him jerk off at night. But then he thinks of Jason forced to be like that, and swallows uncomfortably.
“No. We knew Luthor was working on a low-risk painkiller as part of his legitimate operations. I think that’s what he took.” Softer, she adds, “He’ll be fine, Arsenal.”
Oracle hangs up with the decisive click she’s known for, so Roy turns to his best friend. “Alright, compadre, let’s get you out of here.”
++
Back at the safehouse Roy unhooks the latch under Jason’s helmet, the one only they know of. (He’s more than a little proud to be trusted with it.) Jason’s flushed, a dumbass grin Roy hasn’t seen in years on his face.
Roy shoves him to the couch where he goes easily, hair getting in his eyes. Needs a trim. “I should call Rosie,” he mumbles, listing to the side.
“Wow, no, now is not the time to be calling exes.” Roy hurries to interfere before Jason can get his hands on his phone, finally tossing it aside and sitting next to him.
“Roy.”
“Huh?” Jason straddles his lap, deceptively fast like the Bat bastard he really is. “Whoa, Jay, personal space,” Roy says, yelping when Jason’s armor digs at his inner thigh. 225 lbs, add roughly 25 lbs of body armor, and Roy’s dealing with one heavy dude. Jason’s mouth is at his throat and Roy squeezes his hips hard, knowing he can’t feel it.
All this heat, this temptation, it’s worth it just to see Jason smile like that and Roy knows he’s getting sappy. Jason’s running hotter than the Devil in Death Valley, moving his hips in little circles that hurt with the armor. But Roy’s always liked a little pain, trying to remind himself that this is Jason, his best friend. They’re just friends, he’s always reminding himself. Just friends. “You’re drivin’ me crazy,” he rumbles, kissing the hinge of Jay’s jaw and hoping he won’t notice.
Eventually he’s hard and overheating and he has to push Jason off him, knowing that even in this state he’ll turn it into a roll. Jason’s always beautiful, even covered in blood or playing video games at three in the morning. Right now, he’s breathtaking. Staring up at Roy like the sun shines out his ass, licking at his lips. Must be thirsty. “Stay there, bro. I’m gonna get you something to drink.”
Roy comes back with a glass of water to find Jason on his back, eyes closed. “I have…so many fingers,” he mutters, startling a laugh out of Roy.
“You’re such a stereotype, Jay.”
“No, Roy, you don’t get it. So. Many.” Roy sprawls himself next to him, barely touching; he thinks the fever’s gone down, at least. Jason turns his head, blinking rapidly. “I’m so happy,” he says in wonder. “I’m never happy like this.”
Roy wants, viscerally, to tear Joker apart, tear Batman apart, even though he knows that’s a damn fool thought. “Jay, honey…”
But Jason’s asleep, head in his arms with his lips pursed. Already his skin’s cooling down. Roy lifts him onto the couch, huffing a little but he’s a goddamn superhero, he can handle it. He strips the armor off Jason, slow and careful, leaving him in the black bodysuit that all the Bats wear, no matter how far estranged. Patting Jason’s forehead, he curls up on the couch opposite, waiting for Oracle’s extraction team in the morning.
++
At five a.m. Jasons’s fever must break, because he whimpers for a few worrying moments before going still. The weak sun coming through the slats over the windows lights the sheen of sweat on his dark skin. It’s easier when Jason’s asleep, Roy doesn’t have to be careful.
Sometimes Jason’s unstable. Mostly he’s like himself, from before, the too cheery optimism that he copied poorly from Dick scrubbed away. Sometimes he’s worse. Angry. But hey. So is Roy. He takes some comfort from knowing they changed together.
Roy dozes on and off til the sun has risen high enough that it hits Jason full in the face. “Wuzzat?” he mumbles, smacking his lips and rolling over, all broad shoulders and tiny waist. A long strand of black hair falls in his face, over the full curve of his top lip. Jeez. All the Bats are beautiful, but Jason is just ridiculous. Eventually Jason is awake, sitting up to rub at the side of his head where hair’s pressed flat. “Roy?” His voice is low, rumbling in the way that makes Roy shiver.
“Morning.”
“Wha’ happened?” Jason slurs, fishing around for his helmet, running his thumbs reverently over its face. Roy’s almost jealous.
“You were drugged. I brought you home.”
“So a useless night then.” Jason smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Bitter isn’t a good look on him. “Did we get anything on Luthor?” Roy shrugs; Jason always sulks when a mission goes bad. He used to cry about disappointing Batman, which Roy thought was kind of fucked up, but then Jason died and now he doesn’t give a damn what Batman thinks. “That’s a no, then.”
“Oracle really only wanted to know if Luthor was doing something bad.”
Jason huffs an angry laugh, passing his helmet from hand to hand. “Luthor’s always doing something bad.”
“True.” Jason tsks, sounding disturbingly like Damian, standing and letting the blankets fall to the ground. “What happened, again?”
“Luthor had some bad mumbo-jumbo cooked up, and you got it in you. Then I brought you home.”
“Sex pollen?” Jason asks seriously, checking the nearest reflective surface for marks.
Behind him, Roy can see himself shake his head. “Naw.”
“You just brought me home and…tucked me in?” Jason asks, examining the blankets pooled at his feet.
“Yeah.”
The answering smile from Jason is unexpectedly sweet, Roy swaying towards him like a weed towards the sun. “Thanks.”
Jason’s standing there glowing in soft light, sleep rumpled and grinning. Roy is helpless. “I love you,” he blurts out, immediately regretting it when Jason’s eyes widen. Fuck, Roy has messed things up again, like he always does. He moves to run; Oracle’s team will pick him up from somewhere else.
“I love-” Jason clears his throat, flushing high along his cheekbones. “Same.”
There’s a brief moment for Roy to process this before Jason’s moving, pushing Roy down onto the couch, crawling in his lap and reaching for skin like he’s starving for it. He kisses the same way, hungry and biting til Roy soothes hands over his hips, murmuring soft nonsense. “Jay, Jay, honey.”
He gentles it, licking into Jason’s mouth as his fingers skate over his arms. Roy’s near vibrating, at the level he reaches when he gets a real good shot off. Jason makes a low noise in the back of his throat and pulls him closer.
++
Oracle’s extraction team comes two hours later, consisting solely of Stephanie Brown. She’s not even in uniform, just shorts and a blue sweater. Roy’s kind of offended; he bets Batman gets fancy official stuff. He’s always found Steph a little creepy. There’s something behind her wide blue eyes that’s not all there. It’s been that way since Black Mask, like she went away and couldn’t come back.
She scratches idly at one of the scars crisscrossing her shoulders, down into her sweater. “Uh, hey,” Roy says when he answers the door, suddenly very aware that Jason just finished sucking a hickey onto his neck.
“Hey. Are you all set to go?”
Roy nods just as Jason calls from the other room, “Roy, come back in here and suck me off again.” One corner of Steph’s mouth quirks up as her gaze flicks past him. Roy can feel his skin burn; he’s always been quick to blush.
“Steph’s here!” he calls back as she steps deftly around and past him. Jason comes out holding his pants round his waist. There’s a thick mark on his hip, scratches down the sharp lines of his back. Just looking at him Roy is struck dumber than a dog in heat. He catches Jason’s eyes, holding them, feeling a little dizzy.
“Oracle says to-” Steph sighs, snapping her fingers. “Jesus Christ, guys. Focus.” Something in her sharp blue gaze softens as she bends to pick up Jason’s helmet, thoughtful. “You’ll have all the time in the world later.”
Jason watches Steph smooth her thumbs over the front viewscreen of his helmet, her eyes far off. Sometimes Steph goes off in her head and needs to be snapped out of it, but today she looks back up with a smile. “Anyway, let’s get going.”
Jason goes through the laborious process of pulling all his armor on, watching Roy from the corner of his eye. Roy’s limping a little, his mouth still swollen and red. Jason did that. Jason pressed him down on the bed and heard him beg for it. They lock eyes and Roy grins, slow and dirty.
Jason leans towards him, hearing Steph make an annoyed grunt that he knows she doesn’t really mean. Jason just pecks his cheek, though, feeling the start of stubble and the edge of Roy’s smile. For the first time in a long while, there are no dark corners.