Work Text:
Jason goes to the manor.
So sue him. He played his part in brushing it off, denied the first offer, ignored the both of them for days. But in the end, he was invited. And Bruce sure knows how to place a lure.
When he nudges open the door to Bruce's bedroom, they're both there, nude against the headboard. Bruce sits with his legs out, Drake curled against him. The heat of bodies and smell of sweat hit Jason immediately, before he even clocks the rumpled sheets or flushed shin.
Bruce watches him levelly, one arm wrapped casually around Tim, the other rested in the sheets. Unsurprised. Jason thinks he's pleased, though it's so goddamn hard to tell with him.
The kid, though—His head jerks up from Bruce's shoulder in alarm as soon as the door opens, eyes widening and lips parting when he sees Jason.
Bruce didn't tell him.
The realization makes Jason's mouth curl into a smile, even more than the way Bruce's hand clamps on Tim's hip as soon as he tenses.
“Nice of you to wait,” Jason prods, shrugging off his jacket and the hidden holsters within. He may have left the armor behind, but that didn't mean he was going to come unarmed. They're already making him feel overdressed.
Bruce makes that noncommittal hnn sound, waiting patiently against the headboard as Jason kicks off his shoes. Tim remains locked against his side by one large hand. The sleepiness in his expression when Jason arrived is quickly evaporating in favor of unease. Bruce doesn't bother to check in on his protege, eyes only for Jason—proof he no longer needs, but still enjoys.
It takes until his boots are off to do a quick appraisal, and then he's climbing onto the bed.
Despite his bickering, Jason has to admit something about the scent of sex permeating the room makes it easier to start. The room has already been defiled. The two of them are already stripped. There's no need for the tense face-off where they all puzzle out if everyone is really in.
(Well, if the important people are in. Jason doesn't give a shit about Drake's opinion.)
Jason isn't tense today, though. Jason is thrumming with excitement. He's had plenty of time on his own to know having prey is fun, but it turns out having an ally is pretty great too.
He has to knee-walk up the bed—the size of this thing is seriously ridiculous—to get close enough to loom over Tim. The kid's eyes say wary-nervous, but the set of his jaw says he's not backing down for that.
“Miss me, kid?” Jason asks.
Bruce exhales slightly louder. Maybe amusement, maybe exasperation, maybe agreement. Jason hopes it's agreement.
Tim has straightened up, still held to Bruce's side but sitting. He so stiff, one hand on Bruce's thigh, the other curled in the sheets. Chin up like he's ready for an attack.
Jason hates to be predictable, so he kisses the kid instead.
Somehow Tim manages to get even more rigid under Jason's mouth. He opens his lips when Jason presses for it, but that's about it. Might as well be kissing a mannequin.
“Damn. You suck at this,” Jason says when he pulls back, just to be a dick. “What, was that your first kiss?”
Tim scowls. It's adorable. Like a little chihuahua that thinks it's the same threat as a wolf.
Amazing, really, how quickly Jason's mind-blanking fury of Tim has dimmed with the knowledge that Bruce doesn't give a shit about the kid. He's still the little asshole that stole a dead boy's job, sure—and Jason has plenty more ways to demonstrate what a bad idea that was—but Jason no longer feels like beating someone's face in every time he so much as thinks the kid's name.
Tim glances up to Bruce, who most definitely is watching them, and then manages to surprise Jason by leaning in on his own initiative.
It's a whole different beast this time. Tim is licking into his mouth from the word go, far more active a participant than Jason ever expected. Possibly more than he wants. Jason grips his hair tightly the second he regains his wits, tilting Tim's head back with a yank to retake control. He's teeth more than tongue, nipping and tugging at the kid's bottom lip until a sharper bite draws blood.
Tim hisses. Jason rips his head away by the hair.
Holding him casually in place like nothing more than a living prop, Jason looks to Bruce. It's been years, he realizes, since he's seen the man in anything less than a full-body suit. He refuses to get curious about any of the new scars.
“Think you can get it up again, old man?” Jason asks, taking the safe bet that this wouldn't be the first time tonight.
Bruce lets his legs splay open in answer.
It's the kind of cocky pose that says work for it, though his face remains blank. In another life, Jason would've had to take the bait. Now he has a handy little subordinate to do all the work for him.
He twists Tim over, guiding his head down into Bruce's groin. The feeling of outright piloting the kid by the hair is something indescribable; Jason could be manipulating an inanimate toy, but he's not. He's manipulating pretender Tim Drake. Literally making him bow before them.
“C'mon,” Jason says, leaning down like it's a secret shared though his voice hardly lowers, “why don't you nurse daddy's cock up.”
Bruce's hips twitch. Predictable bastard.
Jason's fingers tighten painfully in dark hair until Tim starts mouthing and sucking along the side of Bruce's soft cock. There's a quiet, pleased breath from the man. Jason watches his reactions as much as he watches the kid's work.
Laconic as he may be, Jason doesn't remember Bruce being this quiet in bed. Nor this passively patient. The latter he wants, but he can't decide on the former. At least it means no one can deviate from the script writing itself in Jason's head.
Everyone acting as intended, one hand still holding Tim's hair, Jason lets the other trail down his back. Wiry muscle as anticipated. Ridges of his spine pushed up as he's bent over. Jason runs over each one, digging his nails in deeper until he scratches at the lower back. Softens again to scoop around his perky ass, before sliding inward—
And bumping into something solid.
Jason blinks, dropping his grip in Tim's hair. Well, he can't not look now. In a second, he's shuffled back to get a proper view.
The black base of a plug protrudes from Tim. Jason hisses through his teeth, staring at it, so snug against Tim's little ass. When he looks up, Bruce meets his eyes with the faintest hint of a hungry smile.
Jason feels himself mirroring it as he eyes the toy again. The outside is circular, flat. No frills, exactly as he'd expect from Bruce. He runs a finger over the base, surely jostling it just a bit inside.
Jason pinches Tim's ass cheek, drawing a jolt.
“Couldn't stand not being fucked for two minutes?” he mocks.
Tim's head twists around, scowling. “I wasn't—”
“I didn't tell you to stop,” Jason snaps.
Tim looks like he's going to argue, until two large hands grab his head and turn him back around. Cock starting to harden, Bruce pulls Tim down again until he can nudge against his lips and feed him the head. Whatever the kid meant to say is entirely cut off.
Having allies. All it's cracked up to be and more.
Veins buzzing, Jason flicks the base of the toy. A muffled sound comes from above, more annoyed than anything else. Bruce's firm hands keep it from turning into words, bobbing Tim at a slow pace.
Bored of teasing, Jason grabs the base, slowly withdrawing it—and feels his eyes widen as it just gets bigger and bigger. By the time he's paused at the peak, rounded shape shrinking back on itself for the point still in Tim's body, it's notably wider than even Bruce's girth. Slick, too. Not just with lube, he's pretty sure.
Jason had half a dozen fantasies coming here, and just like that his plans change again.
He looks to Bruce, knows his own craving is reflected there, and smiles sharp.
“Move down here. Under him.”
He shoves the toy back inside ruthlessly to ensure it won't slip, then shifts to the side as Bruce lifts Tim off his cock to comply. A wet spot nearby makes Jason wrinkle his nose, snatching a pillow to toss over it. Seems like Bruce isn't the only one who's already gotten off.
He bets he can make the kid cry.
Jason tugs Tim's thighs apart so Bruce can scoot down between them. It's not the smoothest move, giving Jason time to lose his shirt, but soon enough Bruce's hard length is behind Tim's ass. Pointing right at the toy.
Sliding back in, Jason presses his bare chest against Tim's back and pulls the kid up to a kneel. The sides of his knees just barely brush Bruce's legs. Practically nothing. With only a layer of denim in the way, it's the closest he's gotten to touching Bruce's skin since before he died. Jason is hyperaware of every millimeter of contact.
His fingers find the plug again, teasing it in and out. Jason presses his teeth over the side of Tim's neck, eyes drifting up, and watches Bruce watch him.
Turns out Dickie isn't the only performer in the so-called “family.” Timmy here is certainly about to put on a show.
Tim gasps when the toy is tugged harder, and Jason grins, lifting his mouth to his ear.
“Yeah, you like that?” he whispers, jabbing it in roughly a few times. “Bruce probably isn't even big enough for you anymore, huh? Little slut.”
“Shut up,” Tim hisses, twisting his head against Jason's.
Jason slams the toy in fully, and reaches around to squeeze his dick.
“Don't talk unless you want to get hurt,” he says.
Tim seethes, hard breaths equal part exertion and anger, but doesn't speak. A good little rule-follower after all.
Despite the rough treatment and his obvious wariness, Jason is pleased to find Tim's dick still responding. Seems like Bruce is right; it really is all about training. Jason throws in a few strokes to get the kid properly hard, before dropping him.
He hooks his chin over Tim's shoulder and raises eyebrows at Bruce. “You want to fuck him?”
Bruce's smile is a slip of a thing, purely for Jason. “Always.”
Jason flashes teeth, and moves back for a better view. He drags that giant plug out, discarding it carelessly, and in almost the same motion sinks Tim onto Bruce cock. Jason feels like it should be nothing, after that toy just came out, but Tim still sucks in a breath at the stretch.
“Golly, did I forget the lube?” Jason says, hands locked over Tim's hips to hold him flush against Bruce. “Not like you aren't still wet down there anyway, huh?”
Tim's jaw is clenched. Bruce's slack. Jason's pulls in a grin.
“How's he feel?” He looks over Tim again to ask. However defined Robin's muscles are, Jason's shoulders are notable wider, his stature much taller. He can halo tiny Timmy entirely.
“Good,” Bruce breathes.
“Good?”
A silent conversation passes between them. Jason can feel Bruce's caution, the way he examines Jason, trying to puzzle him out. He does his best to communicate with his own look, a head tilt, hint of a smile, eyes alight, that this isn't a test anymore. He knows who Bruce cares about. This is for both of them.
“Tell him,” Jason murmurs.
“You feel good,” Bruce says, hands landing just below Jason's to pull Tim slowly up, and drop him back down. Jason slides his over top, guiding the motion. The mere touch of hands gives him an electric jolt. “Tight. Still tight. Filled up by me.”
“Cock and come,” Jason adds, mouth and teeth against Tim's throat. The kid's breathing hitches on each fall.
“Yesss. Clenching around me. Squeezing just like he's supposed to.”
“Is he being a good boy?” The strain in Jason's jeans is near-painful, but he refuses to move his hands away from that intoxicatingly slow pace, from Bruce.
“He is,” Bruce says, eyes on where hips meet. Or where hands meet. “Good boy, Tim.”
“Good boy,” Jason echoes, right by his ear.
On the next drop, he slides his hands over the tops of the kid's thighs, forcing him down.
“You're going to come like this, 'good boy,'” Jason tells him, an instruction, not a question. “You come on daddy's command, right?” Another aborted thrust from Bruce. “Now you're going to come on mine.”
Bruce grinds his hips in circles. Tim tries to lift up; to fuck against his prostate, maybe, unless he's just trying to get away. Makes no difference. Jason's hands keep Tim down either way. When he slides them up his chest to pinch and twist at the nipples, Bruce takes over the grip seamlessly.
“That feel good?” Jason asks, taunting.
Tim shakes his head, but he's panting. Jason catches Bruce's eye.
“It feels good,” Bruce tells Tim, agreeing, like parents teaming up to teach their child a lesson. “To be good for me. To be good for us.”
Jason groans.
“You're doing so well,” Bruce continues. “And now you're going to be good for Jason.”
Tim's breaths take on a faint moan. Whatever grinding Bruce is doing must be good for him. His dick lays untouched.
“So prove it for us,” Jason murmurs. One of his hand strays up to Tim's throat, just enough to feel his racing pulse. “Come.”
Bruce thrusts up. Jason tweaks a nipple, scraping teeth against the shell of an ear. Tim jerks and comes with a loud moan, striping across Bruce's chest.
He slumps against Jason, cock still twitching.
Bruce and Jason lock eyes, and as one, lift and slam Tim down so Bruce can pound into him. Tim shouts and squirms in oversensitivity, but their pace is relentless.
“N—No—”
Jason squeezes on his throat to shut him up.
“You made a mess,” he says, over the slapping of skin. “You should clean it up.”
Bruce is forced to slow somewhat when Jason makes Tim hunch over, but that's okay. He wants Bruce to hang on longer anyway. Hand in Tim's hair again, Jason shoves him down to the splatter of his own come. There's not all that much of it, but then again, this is his second time tonight.
“Come on, then,” Jason says, shaking him by the hair when there's no response. “Clean him up.”
A tongue darts out.
Tim can't possibly bend far enough to reach most of it, so Jason nods to Bruce as he backs off, leaving Tim to sway, unsupported.
“Give him a hand.”
Still bouncing Tim on his cock, Bruce scoops come on a finger and slides it into Tim's mouth. Either mindless post-orgasm or finally learning not to argue, Tim doesn't resist.
Jason slides off his belt and unbuttons his jeans. He pushes pants and underwear down just enough to relieve the pressure. His throbbing cock juts out. Jason palms himself for a moment, enough to ensure he's not going to lose it before he intends to, and focuses up again.
“Good,” Bruce is saying. “Good boy.”
Feeding Tim his own come has slowed his pace further, but that works for Jason's plans too.
He waits until Bruce is done with Tim's mouth, hands settling back on the kid's hips, before moving on. Tim has gotten his breath back, pushing himself off Bruce's torso to straighten up.
On the next down stroke, Jason presses a finger right against Bruce's cock so it slides in too.
Tim catches his breath.
Bruce holds off on further motion, giving Jason time to feel around. As he shifts and twists his finger, it occurs to him he's essentially stroking the man inside. The thought makes Jason shiver.
It's an awkward angle with Tim sitting. Jason takes a minute trying to figure out the most comfortable way to position his hand before Bruce grunts, apparently tired of watching him sort it out.
“Here,” he suggests, pulling Tim's shoulders down until the kid is laying flat against him.
It is better. Jason can thrust his finger a few times, Bruce remaining still, without feeling like he's going to twist his wrist. It also lets him see better. His finger plus Bruce's cock might be about the size of the toy. Maybe a little less. Two fingers will definitely be more. Let alone what Jason has planned...
“What are you doing?” Tim mumbles, twisting his head against Bruce's chest to peer down.
“Shut up,” says Jason. “Do you need to be choked?”
As if instructed, Bruce's hand slips up to wrap lightly around Tim's throat.
Bruce, Jason has decided, makes a damn good henchman. Must be quite a change, for a man who's usually entirely in control of everyone.
Just to be more helpful, Bruce grabs a handful of Tim's ass with his other hand and pulls it apart. Jason tugs his finger against Tim's rim, trying to spread it away from Bruce's cock—not an easy task. Tight fit still. As he lines up a second, curious if it'll even fit without lube, he decides he does want to explain to the kid after all.
“I figured I'd fuck your ass,” Jason says, “considering I already had your mouth. But it seems like it's stretched out from being such a slut. And I'd hate to leave Bruce out.”
He sees the exact moment Tim gets it, eyes going wide. The kid gets out exactly half a syllable before Bruce's hand clamps down to strangle the rest.
Just like that it switches to fight. Tim tries to pull himself up Bruce's body and off his cock, grabbing at the man's hand. With his training, he'd surely succeed in prying it off, if he weren't against the pair of them.
Jason and Bruce both abandon his ass for the struggle, until Jason has a hold of the kid's wrists, and Bruce is locking an arm around his torso. Jason ends up sitting over both of their legs, keeping them down. The head of Bruce's cock, delightfully, remains inside Tim.
He forces the kid's wrists together so that he can transfer the pair of them to Bruce's free hand. Once Bruce has as good grip, Jason leans to the side, his belt still conveniently in reach.
Tim thrashes more when Jason winds it around his arms, but even he seems to realize the futility. His choked off sounds die down into puffs of air. With a final tug, Jason buckles the makeshift restraint. Nothing Tim couldn't get out of in another circumstance, he's guessing, but sure as fuck not right now.
Jason digs fingers into his ass cheeks and leans over the kid, weight against his back.
“I thought you wanted to be good,” he says.
Tim's face is turning red, mouth moving wordlessly. Bruce's hand looks absolutely enormous over his neck. His eyes dart sharp to Jason, around the room, to Bruce's face—entirely impassive, despite having two people on top of him. Seems like the penny might finally be dropping there for the kid.
Tim nods.
Jason signals his approval to Bruce, and the hand loosens with a loud gasp from Tim.
“So be good,” Jason tells him, as he heaves for breath. He presses a mocking kiss to Tim's temple and sits up.
Tim doesn't fight—not that he could do very much—when Jason drags him down to fully sheath Bruce again. Two fingers shove in right after, this time without warning or prep. Tim pants and squirms, but doesn't struggle.
“There you go,” Jason taunts, patting his ass as he works his fingers. It's a struggle to get Tim over the last knuckle. No way they're going to be able to take the kid like this.
Jason looks to Bruce. “Where's your...?”
“Pants pocket,” says Bruce, nodding to it.
His hand smooths over Tim's back as Jason goes to recover the discarded sweats. The supposed comfort is undercut by Tim's bound wrists, preventing the motion from moving any lower, and Bruce's other hand, still light around his throat.
“You're doing well,” Bruce says. “I know you can handle this. You only fought because you didn't understand what you needed yet.”
Jason returns with a bottle of lube, and slicked fingers to shove into Tim. It's much easier this time. Still tight as a motherfucker with Bruce in there too, but his questions of impossibility fade.
On a moment's consideration, he slides Tim all the way up and off Bruce to slick him up too. The combination of the plug, two orgasms, Bruce's cock, and Jason's fingers leave him slightly open. Jason stares for a moment, and then leans forward on impulse to blow air against it. Tim shivers.
“Is he gaping?” Bruce asks. Tim hides his face against the man's chest.
“Feel for yourself,” says Jason.
Bruce's fingers replace his, teasing in and out of the small gap, pulling on Tim's rim.
Jason pours lube over his hand, taking pause. He's already had his fingers against Bruce's cock, technically, but only inside Tim. This is different. The first time he's touching Bruce, and only Bruce.
After what he just had, Jason's hand can't be much, but by the way Bruce moans he must be thinking the same thing.
Jason slicks him up nicely, resisting a momentary urge to linger, and then helps Bruce lower Tim down again.
He's tired of waiting.
Slicking up his own dick, he assesses the positioning.
“Sit up,” Jason finally decides, and Bruce obeys immediately. Tim jostles on his lap as he rises, making small noises. Bruce releases his neck to keep him seated.
“Zipper,” Bruce says, when Jason makes to join them.
Jason scowls at the hint of an order, but is forced to see Bruce's point when he considers the potential scrape against his own balls. He strips off the last of his clothing before joining the duo, pressing right against Tim's back, legs jostling with Bruce's. Skin to skin. Jason buzzes everywhere he touches the man.
Bruce's hand joins his at Tim's ass, fingers pressing in together, and pulling Tim apart to force space. Jason has to press in right against Bruce to position the head of his cock.
“Just. Wai—”
Jason takes over hold on the kid's neck to keep him quiet, pulling Tim to lean again him instead of Bruce. His belted arms get trapped between them. Bruce keeps holding Tim open.
Together, they press Jason's cock in.
He doesn't even notice the kid's reaction, nor Bruce's. Sparks alight in Jason's vision to finally have something around his cock after the wait. Tim is a vice, stuffed to the breaking point. Tight and incredible.
“God,” grunts Jason, sliding deeper in.
Bruce groans.
“So good,” he says.
Jason can only moan his agreement.
“Good. Perfect.”
“Fuck,” Jason stutters.
He finally reaches the base of his cock, fully in, and then it's both of them splitting Tim open. Jason reaches around to press on his abdomen, like he might feel them from the outside. He slips to Tim's dick, as much for a handhold as anything.
Tim is finally giving him those tears he wanted, panting under Jason's hand. Jason allows him a little more air.
Bruce starts to raise the kid by the hips and pull out, though Jason remains pressed as deep as he can. It takes a minute to figure out the coordination, starting slow as they feel out a rhythm. As soon as they figure it out, they speed up, pounding into Tim, forcing him to bounce and jerk with gasping moans. Sobs, maybe. Close enough.
Jason tugs on his cock in the same punishing pace.
“I think you have a third one in you,” he decides.
Tim shakes his head, tears flowing freely, but remains a slave to the larger men's rhythm. Jason squeezes the side of his throat with his fingers, cutting off blood instead of air.
“You can do it,” Bruce encourages. He holds Tim's hips in a bruising grip, slamming him down in counterpoint.
“Come on,” Jason hisses, ramming up with his hips, still jacking Tim off. “Clench around us,” as if he could get any tighter.“You fucking. Slut.”
Tim's mouth hangs open, jolting between them. Jason can feel him getting close despite his protests, in the twitching off his cock. His eyes are losing all focus.
“Do it,” he says, and releases Tim's throat at the same time he gives a long stroke.
Tim shouts with the force that jars his body, coming though he has almost nothing left to give. His eyes roll back, falling limp, and after a second Jason realizes he's passed out.
“Jesus,” Bruce grunts, a serious curse by his standards.
Neither of the men slow down, pounding the unconscious body. Bruce hitches a limp leg further up for a deeper angle.
“So goddamn good,” he says, though Jason feels like he should point out Tim can't hear him anymore. “Incredible. Perfect. Did so good, Jay.”
Oh—
Jason comes with a cry, twitching his hips deeper.
He gasps into Tim's shoulder as Bruce keeps thrusting against his spent cock, chasing his own relief. It hits the edge of too much, after the impossibly good orgasm.
“Dad,” Jason breathes.
Bruce comes, pushing in right next to Jason.
For a few minutes, they just sit there panting, barely keeping upright. Tim lolls between them, trapped in place.
Jason recovers enough to straighten, catching Bruce's gaze.
Bruce leans forward, over Tim's shoulder, and captures Jason's mouth at last. It only lasts a moment, but Jason knows neither of them would allow it any longer.
His entire body shakes in the best way.
Once he's recovered enough to move his limbs again, Jason pulls Tim off them with an exhale. Together, they disentangle, pulling Tim aside to drop on the bed. Jason rolls over to his far side, leaving the wet spot for Bruce.
Face down, he can really appreciate the kid. The forming bruises on his neck and hips and shock of black hair and black belt really compliment his skin.
Jason leaves the latter to Bruce, as he goes searching for something.
When he finds it, Bruce is tugging the last of the belt's length from Tim's arms and tossing it aside. Jason leans over, parts the kid's ass without ceremony, and, ignoring the mess on his thighs, shoves the black plug back inside.
He flops down on his back. His heart is still beating a little fast, breathing still a little heavy, but in the good way. Bruce lays down slowly on Tim's other side. Even unconscious, the kid serves as a nice buffer.
“That was fun,” says Jason.
Bruce hums. “Yes. You're staying?”
Jason lets his eyes drift closed. God, he's beat after that.
“See how it goes,” he murmurs.