Title: Clean as a washed stone (Reference) (2270 words) Fandom: DCU (pre-A Death in the Family) Summary: Gotham can be pretty rough, even on metahumans. Rating: Adult. Content some readers may find to be sex pollen. Pairing: Bruce/Jason/Clark Notes: For Audrey, if she would like it, because she does beautiful things. "Oh man, wow," Jason says, tugging his cape to lie flat even though it got ripped earlier. "Hi, Superman." Bruce isn't even reacting to Superman, standing right in the middle of the damn Batcave and smiling. He looks like he's lit by about ten spotlights, but Jason knows what the lighting's like there. Nobody should even be able to see his face. "Ah. Robin. And how are you enjoying your new job?" Jason sneezes. "It was easier before --" he sneezes again. "I had to deal with the wackos, you know?" And another sneeze. Something has definitely gotten into his system, but they were dealing with Killer Croc tonight. Bruce coughs, then sneezes once. "What did you need, Superman?" Superman smiles at Jason and it's like having one of those spotlights that aren't there directed at him -- bright and warm and making him feel like he's one of the most important people in the whole world. "I heard you had a new partner." "I --" Jason sneezes, again, and then he stops being able to stop sneezing for about five go-throughs until Bruce shoves tissues into his hand and he blows his nose. "Something -- something got up my nose, I guess," he says, knowing how lame it sounds and what a totally shitty impression he's making on Superman. Bruce is staring at him with Batman-blank eyes and a lot of focus. "Croc doesn't use chemical weapons," he says, but he's sneezing too and he has to peel the cowl back to wipe his eyes. "I see I came at a bad time," Superman says -- and then he coughs once. "Odd." "Showers," Bruce says, and Jason's sneezing again -- it's still in his system, on his suit, in his hair, maybe. "Now." Jason tries to wipe his eyes so he can see, but even with the mask off he can't clear his vision. He's stumbling toward the shower, sneezing so hard it makes the top of his head feel floaty in between, dizzy and detached like he just came really hard. Then he's falling forward hard because he can't balance, but Superman is there to stop him from landing wrong and hurting himself. "Take your uniform off," he says, and now he's sneezing too. "Do --" another sneeze. "Do you feel all --" and another "-- dizzy from them?" Jason asks. He's fighting with the catches and the impossibility of stopping sneezing. "Not yet," Superman says. Jason's unlatched and Superman helps him peel the tunic off between sneezes. He can't see clearly, but he can tell that Bruce has ditched the uniform and headed for the showers. "Damn," Jason says, and he tries to get up. Superman puts an arm around him and stops him from falling over when he sneezes again. "Sorry." He's pretty sure you're not supposed to swear around Superman, and he's already making mistakes. Superman sneezes and Jason feels like he's holding him up, instead. "Showers," Superman says, and they make it there under the hot water not nearly soon enough for Jason's sinuses. Bruce must have got a smaller dose, or maybe he's just better at being efficient, because he managed to get naked. He's bracing his arms against the wall and leaning into the spray. Jason has to wait for the steam to clear his head and help him stop shuddering every other second before he can get his shorts off and toss them at the door. Then he realizes Superman's not sneezing anymore either, and that there's that extra showerhead, and it's so loud in here maybe it's on. And -- well, it's not like he's ever going to get another chance to talk to Superman or look at him if stuff like this happens when he visits. And it's healthy adolescent curiosity about what adult males look like. They said so in health class, and all the guys laughed and hit each other. He lets the water beat the hell out of his face for a while longer so he's sure he's not going to lose it sneezing again. His head still feels muzzy, but he can deal. When he looks up -- just to see, you know, maybe -- Bruce has his arms around a whole lot of naked Superman and they're kissing like they're sharing breath. Superman's hand is tangled in Bruce's hair and -- "Holy shit," Jason says. And they don't stop instantly. Bruce growls a little and rakes his nails down Superman's back like it's going to do any good, then lets him go and turns to look at Jason. "Drugs," he says, shaking his head. "Robin -- go --" It's not the command voice. It should be, because if Bruce could do that while his lips are all red from kissing Superman, then maybe Jason would be strong enough to obey him and think about antidotes or whatever you're supposed to do when you sneeze so much you feel like you're high and like you want to come right now. "I -- Jesus, Bruce --" He feels guilty about it for a second. But Superman has to know Bruce's real name -- he's Superman, it's not that complicated to look through the ceiling and figure it out -- and he looks like he brought the spotlights with him into the shower and Jason has to touch his chest -- to feel that his skin is warmer than anybody healthy would be, anybody human. Superman lifts him and pulls him into a kiss that makes Jason really get why Bruce can't use the command voice. He can only hold on and trust that Superman won't drop him and shake like crazy, because Superman's licking his mouth and playing with his tongue and biting at his lips. It's too fast and too intense and Jason's moaning, bucking against him like he's going crazy -- he is going crazy -- he's coming. From a kiss, part of his brain says, Jesus, you're easy, and the rest of him says his brain is overflowing with happy and fuzz and Superman is still kissing him. He's still hard, too, and it doesn't hurt as much as it should to let his hips keep going with that "rub off against Superman" theme. But someone -- god, Bruce, Bruce is right there and biting the back of his neck and he whimpers into Superman's mouth, and he has to break the kiss, to make himself stop thrusting, to let go enough to turn and ask Bruce what the fuck's going on. Bruce growls again and gets his hands in Jason's hair and around his waist so hard it hurts, but not as much as it does when Bruce pushes him against the wall of the shower and kisses him. "Oh fuck," Jason says, trying to gasp for air, but Bruce is leaning on him, pinning him -- thrusting against him and rubbing their dicks together and Jason knows he's screaming but he doesn't care. Bruce's mouth is on his neck and it hurts, makes everything perfect and he's coming all over Bruce -- and Bruce is coming all over him and growling more. "Bruce," Superman says, and Bruce lets him go -- forgets he's there, maybe, because he's not holding Jason up. Jason's tired -- patrol was long, sneezing is hard work, coming all over Superman takes it out of a guy -- and he falls to his knees. "We should --" Superman says. "I know." Bruce's voice is dark and dangerous. Jason looks up at him and then he realizes that that smell is Bruce, right there and right within reach, sticky and -- Jason licks him, and he's thought about this, but most of the fantasies waited half a damn second before Bruce put his hand on the back of Jason's head and pushed. He chokes a little, but he wants this. He's whimpering, not entirely meaning to, but Bruce tastes like -- like sex, is all he can think, and it's obvious and also true. He tries to wrap himself around Bruce's leg, get away from the wall, get something to hump against. "Oh," Superman says, kinda faintly for Superman, and then his too-hot hands are on Jason's back, his thighs, and spreading his ass. Jason makes a strangled noise -- he can't make any other kind of noise -- and pushes back a little, lifting his hips, totally not clear on what's in the plans but -- it's Superman, and anything is better than nothing. Bruce says, "Jason," roughly and he has to open his eyes, try to look up and his throat aches and Bruce is coming, making him choke, but it's -- He couldn't, wouldn't be there if he wasn't drugged, if Bruce wasn't -- but Bruce's eyes look almost normal for a second and -- Maybe they'll be okay on the other side. Superman licks his ass, a broad, too-hot too-wet stripe that makes him need his mouth free, need to be able to gasp and breathe and say, "Oh fuck, oh god, oh Jesus yes." Bruce gets down on the floor and kisses Jason again, stopping him from cursing just as Superman really gets a grip on his hips and starts to fuck him with his tongue. Jason wails against Bruce's mouth and -- it's drugs, something -- but he's coming again, already, from just that, because it's not till he stops that Bruce gets a hand on his dick and starts jerking him. Bruce breaks the kiss to say, "Kneel up." He can't immediately -- Superman is breaking his brain, making him have to whimper more -- but he manages it, and Superman makes a humming sound against him, on him, in him -- and Bruce pushes Jason's legs farther apart and gets down and goes down on him. "Oh my fucking god," Jason says, "yes --" He doesn't even know which way to thrust, or after the first couple gasping seconds where they're not -- together -- how to stop moving. "Fuck yes, you feel so good, you're going to -- Jesus -- kill me -- don't fucking stop --" And they don't, not for a damn breath, not even when Jason comes again -- and it feels like he's not going to be able to stop coming, either, until his hips give out and he can't hold himself up. His thighs are already shaking with the strain and he's not sure how long he's going to be breathing at this rate. He hasn't got any sense of time or even goddamn counting, not really, before he has to -- has to say, "Stop, oh please -- I can't breathe, I can't --" and Superman catches him when he starts falling backward. He's on Superman's lap, and it would be ridiculous if his ass didn't feel as awesome as it does. He gets three good deep breaths, enough to know absolutely that Superman doesn't smell human, before Bruce is on him, on them, pushing them against the wall and kissing Jason, then Superman, then Jason again. Superman's thrusting against his ass, slow and careful but hard enough that he knows it's Superman. Bruce gets his hand around Jason's dick and around his own and it's starting to be raw, too much, but it's too good to do anything but whimper and let them move him where they want him until he has to say, "Oh, fuck." Neither of them has said much of anything since this started, and the more he talks, the more he notices that, but they don't respond to him with anything but moans. It means more quiet space he feels like he has to fill up with talking, with, "Yeah, just like that -- goddamn, you feel so good, fuck, fuck -- ow, no, don't stop, it's -- oh -- I can't, Bruce, I can't -- I --" And he can, but he blacks out in the middle of it. He wakes up again in his own bed feeling like Batman and Superman grabbed him in the shower and fucked him six ways from Sunday, and like his head is never going to stop aching. He puts the pillow over his head and whimpers like a kid. Alfred comes into his room and pushes the curtains open. "Good morning, Master Jason." "I'm sick," Jason says. "Not going to school." "So Master Bruce informed me," Alfred says, "but it is eleven-o'clock, and he asked me to bring you something to eat." Jason has to talk to Bruce about whatever the hell that was and how they're going to fight it -- make war, not love -- and he can't get out of bed with Alfred there. He's going to be moving like -- Like he got way too laid. "Thanks," Jason says, "I'll eat it. In a while." "Master Bruce also asked me to inform you that it is highly likely that you are indisposed due to an inhalant that was in wide distribution throughout Gotham last night, and that there are many instances of looting which will need to be dealt with after the culprit is caught." Jason squishes the pillow down and hugs it. "Oh good. No leads?" "Not as yet, sir." Alfred does something that makes a clinking noise by the nightstand and says, "Do make an effort to recover yourself, sir." "Yeah. Yeah, I am. Thanks, Alfred." "We live to serve." Alfred leaves Jason alone to his aching, exhausted self. He falls asleep under the pillow before he manages to have any breakfast at all, and he only wakes up in time for patrol because Bruce comes in and asks nicely. And kisses him.
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