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When Jason walks into the living room with the two cans of coke, Dick is already sitting on the sofa. He has a bowl of popcorn on his lap and a remote in hand, flipping through the options.
“Just about time, replacement,” his predecessor says, not looking at Jason when he pats the space on his right. “Come and sit.”
Jason’s breath catches. Seeing Dick sitting comfortably like this, even telling him to sit so close to him, gives Jason a sense of dread.
“Well?” Dick turns when Jason has failed to respond. There is no malice on his face, merely impatience. “Come on. It’s brotherly bonding time. I have to babysit you, no matter how much I don’t want to. Dad’s orders. Neither of us can refuse. Are you going to watch the movie all the way from there?”
He says all this with a relaxed face. As if his coldness and those strained moments between them never happened. Jason feels cold.
“Sit, Little Wing.” Dick calls a third time, this time sounding final and emotionless.
And it’s then when Jason is shocked back into action. He swallows, lifting his foot to drag him out of the spot. He shuffles forward like his feet are trapped in molasses until he is standing rigid beside the sofa.
Dick’s face lights up.
“That’s right. Come on.”
The space Dick points to is too close for Jason to feel comfortable. But he doesn’t want to upset his predecessor—doesn’t want to make him angrier than he already is. So, Jason sits, his thigh not an inch away from Dick’s and the arm Dick has swung over the sofa backrest is almost wrapping Jason in an embrace.
“That isn’t so hard, now, is it?” Dick smirks, thumb stroking the backrest right over Jason’s collar bone. “Now, are you ready?”
Of course, Dick doesn’t actually care whether Jason is ready. He presses play regardless.
The movie is an action flick from the 80s. Something Dick has picked before Jason’s arrival here in Bludhaven. Not something Jason would have chosen—something he only agreed on to please his predecessor. Jason has never wanted to upset Dick.
The first ten minutes into the movie, things go smoothly. Dick seems to be immersed, throwing popcorns into his mouth and taking loud sips from his can of coke.
The story is only partially into its first act before Dick starts moving.
First is his hand. He lifts it and lets it rest on the sofa seat, a mere half an inch away from Jason’s leg.
It creeps closer during the next few minutes. It’s not long before Jason feels warmth climbing into his thigh. It’s Dick’s palm, casually resting there as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Jason looks down in confusion, but he doesn’t move. He sees Dick’s fingers splayed, fanning out along the roundness of the thigh. The index twitches, first tapping, then stroking. Blunt fingertips make tiny noises as they scrape across Jason’s denim pants.
Jason feels a little uncomfortable, but he doesn’t protest. The hand is distracting, but it’s far from abnormal. Just have to pretend it’s another day and focus on the movie. Jason tries to look back at the TV as the love interest is backed into a corner. The character looks surprised on the screen, but not necessarily distressed.
Not that different from what they did during training, really. Like when Dick has gotten too close as they wrestled on the mat, or when Dick came up behind Jason to help him hold his staff, kicking his legs further apart to better his stance—
It’s when the fingers creep up even further, when Jason starts to hear alarms in his head. The digits are like ghosts, gentle, hovering. Jason can feel Dick’s fingertips over his jeans, drifting carelessly upward toward his crotch. Jason feels them close to his inner thigh, and the motion renders him breathless.
Up on the screen, the actress is trapped in a kiss. She wraps her arms around the man’s neck loosely and allows him to deepen the kiss. Her cheeks are rosy, likely from the make-up they’ve used, but it makes her look aroused and flustered. Her lips are painted a cool red. It never ceases to amaze Jason how hard it is to smudge the lipstick shades of women in movies.
Jason inhales sharply when he feels Dick’s fingers at his crotch. Lightly, they phantom over his cock before descending and rubbing. Jason produces a small whimper, cock quickly growing hard under the touch, tenting beneath his pants.
“Tell me something, Jason,” Dick speaks. “Do you like me?”
Jason’s breath hitches in his throat, remembering all the little peeks he has thrown Dick’s way in the past. Just glances here and there, dirty little secrets of Jason’s that he has never intended to tell anyone.
Panicked, Jason looks over, but Dick’s eyes aren’t on him. They are fixed on the screen while his hand rubs at Jason’s crotch.
“Do you find me attractive?” Dick continues, sounding indifferent yet every syllable making Jason shudder with anticipation. “As my replacement, what do you see when you look at me?”
Jason’s eyes become blurry. Suddenly, all the things Dick has said or has done come back to him. The little insults behind Bruce’s back, the humiliation in front of Dick’s friends.
Unbeknownst to most, there’s a dangerous temper behind that friendly smile of the Golden Boy. Jason can remember that same smile when he had to get down on his hands and knees to clean up an accidental coke spill he had made during the last Titans party he went to, while Dick’s friends had just stood around him and watched with smiles on their faces.
Dick turns to Jason, his dark eyes flashing under the light of the TV.
“Answer my question before I lose patience, you little shit.”
And Jason feels a severe panic in his heart, his limbs tightening.
Jason’s body starts to tremble as he looks at Dick, wide-eyed, lips shuddering in his attempt to make a coherent response.
“I-I-“
“Answer truthfully, kitten. Don’t make me repeat myself: do you find me attractive?”
Jason swallows.
“Y-yes.”
“You have been looking at me a lot since Bruce brought you in from the streets, haven’t you? Dirty little whore. How many cocks have you sucked before Bruce offered you my hand-me-downs?”
Jason stills in shock, uncertain whether he has heard his predecessor correctly. It’s so demeaning, so… dehumanizing. Too harsh, even for Dick. And Jason finds himself petrified, mouth hanging open and palms going clammy. He is at an absolute loss for words.
“Nothing to say for yourself?” Dick says with a belittling sneer. “Because I’m right, am I not? Bruce will never see you for the dirty little whore you are. But nothing gets past Big Brother.”
Dick places the bowl of popcorn onto the coffee table and uncrosses his legs.
“Get down on your knees.”
Jason stares at Dick, alarmed. He is at a total loss.
“Get down,” Dick repeats, this time tone colder. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Jason drags his legs from under himself and leaves the warm seat of the sofa. He gets on the floor—hard and cold, already hurting his knees as if it’s jagged rocks biting into his flesh—and kneels. He hangs his head in shame, tears of indignation dancing in his eyes.
Warm fingers snake into Jason’s hair. Soft, gentle, caressing his scalp almost affectionately.
“Look up, cupcake.” A soft whisper.
Jason does. And the first thing he feels is a sharp sting on his cheek. He is stunned, stilling where he is.
Half a second passes before Dick slaps Jason’s other cheek, forcing his face the other way as a crisp sound echoes over the movie playing in the background.
“You do what I tell you and you do it as fast as you can. Understood?”
Jason bites his lip.
Before him, Jason hears a zipper. Something hot, musky, and huge presses against his lip. Jason looks up in alarm.
There, Jason sees Dick holding his cock in his hand, impressive in both length and girth, bulging with thick veins. He forces the leaking head to Jason’s mouth. A drop falls over his bottom lip and Jason tastes it. That familiar saltiness he’d always tasted when he had to sell his service to survive on the streets.
“Open up,” Dick says almost soothingly. And when Jason fails to comply, he pushes the head past his lips. “Do whatever you can to please me. Why else do you think you are here? Why else do you think Bruce had wanted a dirty whore under his roof?”
Jason represses his instinct to gag when the cock reaches deeper. Tears spill out of his eyes, and he is shaking with dread.
Finally, Dick is fully inside Jason’s mouth. He sits back and picks up the bowl of popcorn, his focus already shifting back to the TV.
“You are going to kneel there quietly like the bitch you are and warm it up for me,” Dick says. “You are going to make it up for me, yeah? For the generosity of lending my uniform to a filthy slut like you. Surely you can do this well. You’ve done it countless times, I presume. No matter how dirty or gross they were. Those scumbags you find pissing everywhere on the streets. I bet you’d give your services to the lowliest men out there, as long as they have the money.”
Jason squeezes his eyes shut. The cock is heavy and salty, a musky taste in his mouth. He can feel the bulging veins along the length, feel the head pressing at the back of his throat. Jason wants to cry, but he can’t risk choking on the cock.
And so, Jason sits quietly as Dick continues the movie. The sound plays in the background and Jason completely misses the plot afterward, his sense overtaken by Dick’s cock in his mouth and every slight movement he makes.
There is a part of Jason that thinks he should fight, should threaten Dick on the terms that he will tell Bruce. But Jason doesn’t dare. Dick intimidates him, and truth be told, Jason doesn’t know if Bruce would even believe him.
Dick makes Jason kneel the rest of the movie.
About another hour and a half later, the credits start playing, and Jason feels the cock in his mouth move back a little when Dick shifts on the sofa. His predecessor places the bowl back onto the coffee table and stretches.
Jason yelps when he feels a sudden tug at his hair. Dick’s fingers caressed his scalp before pulling harshly and forcing his face up.
“Well done, baby.” Jason realizes Dick is smiling down at him. “That mouth of yours is really something. Much nicer than a lot of the girls out there.”
Jason blinks. Only then does he realize how much he has teared up.
“Get on the sofa, now,” Dick says. “If you want to be useful, you gotta do more than that.”
The cock pulls out, bringing a string of saliva with it. Jason takes a greedy inhale before a hand grabs the back of his shirt collar and hauls him up, forcing him to his feet before pushing him face-down onto the sofa.
Hands clutch the sides of Jason’s hips and bring them up into the air, forcing him into a humiliating position. They fumble along the waist, unbuttoning Jason’s jeans and pulling his pants and boxers down to pool around his knees.
Jason gasps.
“Don’t do this, Dick. You won’t get away with it.”
Dick settles behind him, stroking his cock with his hand as he slaps Jason’s naked buttock. It rings crisp. He does it again, and again, hands leaving red imprints and spanking Jason like he’s a teacher disciplining a poor student.
Jason buries his face into the sofa seat and sobs.
“But isn’t this what you want, Little Wing? Big brother’s cock and his attention, all in one.”
A tube is flipped open, and a cool gel is squeezed directly between Jason’s cheeks. Fingers descend to smudge the liquid all over his hole, keeping the cheeks spread with the other hand.
“That’s right. Ass up and show me that cunt of yours. I’ve been curious. Have to see what’s so special about you, the bitch that’s taken it up the ass countless times.”
Jason finds his arms pulled back and his hands guided toward his own ass cheeks from either side. Dick positions his fingers to clutch his own ass, and the cool, alluring voice of his predecessor rings in Jason’s ears.
“Pull your cunt wide apart, replacement. Spread them like the filthy slut you are. Don’t want to stay in the home you were given without giving something back, do you? You might be a bitch, but you aren’t a parasitic worm, right?”
Jason clenches his teeth, tears falling down his face and dropping onto the sofa. The words crack him open, rip the stitches out of his wounds and flay him, leaving him bare, aching, and bleeding. The cruel words of his devil of a predecessor pull apart years of foundation Bruce has built with Jason, convincing him he isn’t a worthy investment after all. He is a whore, and that part of him will always define who he is.
Jason finds himself doing exactly what Dick has told him, holding himself open as Dick fingers him, scissoring, opening him up.
The preparation isn’t nearly enough when the digits pull out a minute later. Jason’s hole is so tight and he knows how big Dick is. But it won’t matter, because Jason is a whore and is used to this. That’s why he doesn’t protest when Dick presses the head of his cock over Jason’s hole. Doesn’t move, doesn’t even make a sound when his predecessor starts pushing in.
The first moment is agony. Then Jason hears the head popping in, and the rest of the cock glides in after it. It gets wider around the middle, stretching Jason’s hole open to an uncomfortable circumference. Jason forces himself to keep quiet, even sobbing in silence as to not give Dick more reasons to insult him.
Dick seats himself inside, then pulls out slowly, until only the head is locked inside Jason’s rim. When he does his second thrust, it’s faster, harsher, and much more unbearable.
Dick does it another time. Then again. He settles to a brutal speed, punching Jason toward the sofa and bumping his hips forward. It hurts. But Jason bites his lip until blood beads up, unwilling to scream.
“Do you like this, little whore?” Dick says, a little breathless between thrusts. “Your cunt is holding me so tightly. Feels good. You’ve been thirsting for a cock up there ever since Bruce took you in, didn’t you?”
Jason whimpers and shakes his head.
“No?” A hand pulls on Jason’s hair and forces his head up. Jason can no longer stifle his screams by using the sofa. He heaves and moans. Mostly, it comes from pain. But there’s no way there isn’t some pleasure there, too. “Now, that’s more like it. Don’t hide your nature, dog. You’re just like the street bitch every neighborhood dog wants to fuck. You’ll be looking for someone else to come and dick you down if I didn’t do it.”
“N-no.”
“Oh, but it’s true, cupcake. Why else would you stare at your big brother all the time, if this isn’t what you wanted?”
Again, Jason shakes his head no. But it doesn’t matter, because it doesn’t matter what he chooses to believe. Dick wants to rip Jason apart, and he is succeeding. After all, if Jason isn’t a whore like Dick said, then why is he experiencing pleasure from all this?
Jason’s cock is filling out as Dick plunges ruthlessly into him, his body shaking and spasming. He hates how much his predecessor humiliates them, but after all, this is still Dick Grayson fucking him.
“No, I’m not...”
Another harsh thrust cuts Jason off. He sobs, overstimulated by the sensation. Jason’s body begins to writhe over the bed, moaning, keening.
“Just hear yourself, bitch,” Dick says, chuckling. “You really are a whore, through-and-through. You just like being someone’s cock sleeve, don’t you? If not me, it’d be someone else. Some dirty asshole with piss-stained pants and a smelly dong out there. You should thank me for giving this to you, so you don’t have to let some filthy hillbilly touch you.”
Jason hangs his head shamefully, whimpering into the sofa.
There’s hot breath against the back of his neck, and Jason jolts when he feels lips kissing at his back. Surprisingly tender.
“Admit it, baby. Don’t you want your big brother to look at you and use you like a sex doll?”
Clutching the sofa, Jason cries. A particularly hard push presses on his prostate, and Jason jumps, his hardness rubbing on the seat of the sofa.
“Just look at yourself. How pathetic are you, Little Wing?”
“No…” Jason shakes against the sofa, overstimulated and moaning uncontrollably. Maybe Dick is right, maybe he does enjoy this.
Dick’s motion becomes faster. He plunges mercilessly in Jason’s tight hole, cock scraping over Jason’s sensitive passage in a rapid succession. He does this for two more minutes before coming, pulling out in the last second just so he can see his own cum spill over Jason’s naked ass.
Jason collapses, sobbing, as Dick gets off the sofa.
“You see, Jason? This is what you’re good for. Being Big Brother’s cock slut. It’s what you’re meant to do. Do you see how things are going to be from now on?”
Jason’s whole body shakes. Dick doesn’t mention Bruce, doesn’t even acknowledge that Bruce might find out about the horrible things he did. It’s like he is confident Jason won’t tell. It’s like he’s confident that even if Jason does… Bruce will never believe him, anyway. He would never believe Jason over his Golden Boy.
“Get up,” Dick says coldly, throwing a towel on Jason. “Go get yourself cleaned up in the bathroom. You are sleeping on the floor tonight. Don’t want a whore like you dirtying my sofa.”
Slowly, Jason gets up, holding the towel.
He aches all over, body bruised and exhausted from the encounter. But Jason doesn’t dare to stop and look back. He finds himself running straight to the bathroom to wash off the marks Dick has left on him.