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Post fic/art requests with pairing and kink prompt in the replies to this thread. Requests may be made anonymously. One request per reply please, but feel free to reply more than once!

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- Anon does not mean impolite or disrespectful. No flaming, trolling or bashing.

- Post fic and art as a reply to the prompt. Multiple responses encouraged, don't be shy just because someone's already "taken" it!

- Crossovers are welcome as long as at least one DC Universe character is involved.

And please pimp the comm with this, if you would:

<font size="+3"><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/dc_kink/">THE DC COMICS KINK MEME</a></font>

Comments

Sweet as the night is long [4/7]

[runespoor7.livejournal.com]

As they make their way through the corridors, sometimes Bruce steals a kiss. Dives down to peck on Jason's lips, and retreats when Jason tries to deepen it. Bruce doesn't let his eyes close, and he can see Jason be surprised into closing his every time, lashes fluttering uncertainly against his cheeks, and the tiny, disappointed keens when his lips flutter open at the same time as his eyes, and his tongue flicks out.

“God, Bruce, you're a tease,” Jason accuses, moving away and shifting his hips like he wants to grind against something. The robe doesn't conceal anything.

Neither does the fire in his eyes, Jason getting worked up, the flare when Bruce laughs quietly – dives down again, just for a feel of Jason's lips. He's teasing himself as much as Jason, stopping himself from the taste, when he could have it any second he wants. And Bruce always wants it.

Jason's lips open with a smacking sound, again a moment too late. He glares, his cheeks reddening.

“Come on.”

He tugs on Bruce's sleeve, impatient. Strong; he knows how to use his training. Each of his holds, of his steps, painstakingly rehearsed for countless hours in the Cave, has been honed into an instinct, skills and weapons Jay doesn't need to think about to call upon. For a few feet Bruce is dragged behind his forceful boy, until he takes control of his steps again.

Jason doesn't like it; doesn't like being denied, for a few meaningless minutes, the imminent. “Bruce!--”

And it's a whine, or as close as Jason gets when they're still clothed. Bruce only smiles, and fondles Jason's nape, not taking his hold away, just moving his fingers. He can read the frustration on Jason's face, can read in the taut muscles of Jason's neck the efforts it takes not to butt his head back.

“Such a fuckin' tease,” Jason grumbles.

“Language,” Bruce chides mildly. He doesn't stop stroking.

Jason lets out a short bark of a laugh, and starts saying something else – doubtless full of expletives – but Bruce interrupts him by digging his fingers into the sides of his neck. The boy throws his head back, his lips moving silently, eyes squeezed shut. Every muscle locked. His pulse runs under Bruce's fingers like a mad horse, his throat works, pressure and lack of air combined. Exposed, vulnerable.

Tempting.

Carefully, Bruce runs the knuckles of his other hand on Jason's throat. Follows the shivers breaking on the thin skin, the faint shadows of uncontrolled kisses. The heartbeat he can feel pounding could be Jason's, or his. His hand is quaking, and he lets it fall again, loosening his grip.

Jason's body sags, panting. Bruce can feel him shaking a little, and wants nothing more than to kiss him until Jason comes. His willful, beautiful boy.

Jason glances at him from under his lashes, wetting his lips in a reflex. Cautious.

He's not trying to be seductive; Bruce knows enough of Jason's type of seduction by now to be aware that anything subtler than-- blinding, white-hot obscenities (loud moans calling Bruce's name; spread, naked thighs and Jason cupping himself; footage of Jason alone in the Cave, twisting on the mats, two fingers inside himself; Robin offering him a blow-job, Jay offering him a blow-job) would not be done on purpose. But Jason's hair falls in front of his eyes in a pair of heavy, perfect curls, and Bruce-- Bruce isn't sure he could deny Jason anything.

He settles for smoothing Jason's hair.

Jason eyes him almost warily, and glances away when Bruce halts. They're in front of Bruce's bedroom.

“Finally,” he says, with enough feeling that Bruce would feel like chuckling, again, if his throat wasn't suddenly dry, because Jason is opening the door, and they're walking into the room, and--

It never stops seeming huge, having Jason in this room. Having Jason.