
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/819829.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Batman_(Comics)
  Relationship:
      Dick_Grayson/Damian_Wayne, Dick_Grayson_&_Damian_Wayne
  Character:
      Dick_Grayson, Damian_Wayne
  Additional Tags:
      Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-05-27 Words: 1801
****** Something in your Mouth ******
by ThePhantomJoke
Summary
     Dick develops an oral fixation.
Damian had a personal vendetta over things he deems childish. It seems that
said vendetta had only gotten worse over the years. He hates candy, certain
movies, among other things that teens his age eat up. Dick learned a long time
ago to stop pushing them on his littlest brother, to take what he could get
when it came to video games and the occasional childhood movie.
He’s used to Damian passing over his candy from school holidays. It’s not even
surprising when huge bags of Valentine’s and candies rest on his bed the day
after the holiday. It makes him a little sad, but Dick will eat the candy, and
ignore the cards proclaiming love for his little brother.
The first time he really notices anything is nearly a month later, he still
hasn’t eaten all of the jolly ranchers and suckers. But that’s impossible,
there wasn’t that much candy, not with how much he’d already consumed. Was
there? The thought’s in the back of his mind, but the candy is finally finished
that same month, and Dick settles for his sugar fix from cereal like usual.
On Easter there is a gift waiting for him. He assumes it’s from Bruce or
Alfred, it’s from Damian. The teen had gotten him a basket filled with ringpops
and hard candies shaped like little bunnies. It was kind of sweet. Dick teased
his little brother about it, unable to resist, especially with new material.
Dick ignores the harsh barbs in response, and tries not to think about the way
his mouth waters from just looking at the sweets. He feels like he’s being
watched the rest of the day, even when Alfred scolds him about ruining his
appetite with sweets. They last him until mid-summer.
Gotham is scorching, and Dick feels like he might die from heatstroke, even
with the air conditioning on. Lounging on the floor of the living room, he
stares enviously at Damian’s glass of ice water. The other ex-Robins are spread
out on the couch as well. Even Tim managed to make it back to Gotham for the
hottest weekend of the year. At least in the scorching heat, him and Damian
aren’t fighting. That’s something.
Dick’s blue eyes are shut, almost in a doze, when something cool presses
against his cheek. Eyes opening, he sees Damian looking down at him. He shivers
when the ice cube trails across his face towards his lips. They open almost on
reflex, and that thought is downright jarring. Only more so when he sees Jason
smirk out of his peripherals. Dick sucks the ice cube until it has melted
entirely, cooling his mouth and throat. “You’re going to get heatstroke.” It
could have been concern. Dick knows he shouldn’t be suspicious, but he is.
“Thanks baby bat.” The family goes back to the movie, and Dick tries to ignore
the glass he’s been given before he gives in to the temptation and sucks on a
few cubes.
He can feel Damian watching him as he slides the wet cube into his cheek,
swallowing as the water fills his mouth. If he takes too long and licks his
fingers to catch the droplets, it’s not on purpose. Dick watches back, tossing
in small smiles when Damian gets caught looking. It’s natural, especially in
the sweltering heat, at least that’s what he tries to tell himself.
The clues are too obvious now. A secret admirer had given him a dozen
jawbreakers the size of his fist in August. It had taken him so long to
realize, he felt like an idiot. He had an oral fixation, courtesy of his former
Robin. Catching himself craving sweets and sucking on his spoon long after the
metal was warmed had made the conclusion easy.
On Halloween they’re both getting ready for another fundraiser, it’s a costume
party. Dick was wearing a simple leotard and mask, it looked like something he
may have worn at Haly’s. While Damian is dressed in a long black coat, a bat
cowl, cape, and utility belt. He looks like Bruce, even without the kevlar,
it’s almost startling to see the resemblance. When had he grown up so fast?
Damian had been relentless about offering him candy all night, and it wasn’t
just him either. Platters were weaving through the crowd that had all kinds of
food that made Dick’s mouth water. His lips were wrapped around the tip of his
finger and he hadn’t even noticed it, tongue sliding across the tip absently.
“Did you get your own finger mixed up with the food?” Dick glances down at the
offered popsicle. It looks like an oversized finger bone. It smells like cherry
though, and that makes his mouth water even more. Dick pops the cold treat
inside of his mouth, making a small moan of pleasure after a moment. He drags
out the treat slowly, licking his lips to get rid of the sticky red liquid that
clung to them.
The anger hits him again, and he has to fight the urge to throw the popsicle.
He couldn’t even control himself! Not to mention the teen at his side was
smirking in between sips of apple cider. His mouth protests at the loss, tongue
dragging across the roof of his mouth and his teeth over and over. Screw it,
this wasn’t funny. His voice is low, almost a growl as he accuses hotly, “You
think this is funny?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Grayson.”
Dick can feel his patience stretching wire thin. “My mouth.” It comes out like
a hiss. “You have been giving me all these treats, and I can’t stop. It’s not a
game. It is not funny, Damian.”
It seems like Damian can’t stop smiling now, but he doesn’t even deny it, just
sips at his glass of some more. Dick snaps like a twig, “Is this some kind of
joke to you? Some way to get back at me or something?! You trained me, like I
was freaking Titus!” He makes an undignified noise when the teen shrugs and
stalks up the stairs, effectively ignoring him. Dick follows angrily, more than
ready to have this conversation in private.
Getting slammed against the wall as soon as they’re out of sight is not what
Dick was expecting. He presses his palms against the teen’s shoulders, trying
to push him away. When lips crash against his own, he makes a small noise of
protest, even as his traitorous mouth responds to the heated kiss. “It was not
something foolish, like getting back at you, Richard.” That wasn’t what he was
expecting either, but he doesn’t get the chance to respond as Damian’s fingers
press at his lips and then his tongue, Dick making obscene sounds around the
digits.
“I wanted you.” Dick whined the sound needy after hearing how absolutely sure
Damian was. There was a sort of finality there, no room for questions or
hesitations in his tone. The two are pressed flush together in the hall, and
Damian shoved a muscled thigh between Dick’s legs, pressing against the barely
there spandex. The older man practically whimpered at the friction, heated
kisses along his neck was doing nothing to help his predicament. “I’ve always
wanted you,” He rocked the thigh between them, dragging another moan from Dick.
“You were always so caught up in Father’s approval when he returned…” A bite to
his neck that was on the wrong side of painful, “…and then, you left me.” Okay,
maybe he deserved that.
“You’re mine now though, and I won’t share you. With anyone, Todd, Gordon,
Starfire.” Dick could feel the smirk curve against the angry raised mark and he
whimpered at the thought. Damian wasn’t kidding around, this was deadly
serious, and he couldn’t think straight except where to move his mouth, how
good it felt when he flicked his tongue across the webbing of the teen’s
fingers and the way he gave another for Dick to play with. “…understand me
Richard?” He’d missed the first half of whatever that question was.
Dick cracked open his eyes, but he didn’t have the decency to push Damian away,
didn’t even have the shame to stop himself from chasing the fingers the teen
tried to take away from him. Damian was waiting for an answer. The way he was
watching was…hungry. That was the only word for it. Wet fingers finally pulled
away tracing across his lips and making them spit shiny too. “Dami…” His tongue
snaked out, sliding across the pads of the boy’s fingers, before teeth nipped
at the soft skin there. The teen moved forward, crossing the distance between
them, moving his hands to either side of Dick’s face and giving him a bruising
kiss.
How long had Damian wanted him? The thought struck him, before all thoughts
left him entirely, too concerned with sucking on Damian’s tongue like it was
yet another hard candy given to him. Licking across his mouth, Dick moaned and
whimpered, small needy noises that were smothered in the kiss. Their masks were
getting in the way, and if the teen had been a few scant inches taller and a
few decades older, this would have been his wet dream as Robin. Their roles
were so convoluted, Damian was probably ready to be Batman, more than Dick had
ever been; the thought shouldn’t have made him blindingly hard.
Dick was getting off on the hands and lips that Damian was still touching him
with. Shivers ran through him at his family touching him like this, they were
supposed to be brothers. Maybe that was why it had never worked for them as a
family dynamic? Maybe they were too wrapped up in sexual tension and barely
contained lust. This wouldn’t exactly help that.
“Dick.” It was a barely there growl, something possessive in that tone. It was
over embarrassingly quick when he heard his nickname in that familiar tone.
Crying out into Damian’s mouth, his hips shoved forward, too overstimulated as
it was from the friction and tongue fucking his mouth. His costume was ruined.
Dick knew that without a doubt. As Damian pulled away, Dick let his head fall
back against the wall with a soft thunk, breaths coming out in soft pants.
“I suppose I should take that as a yes?” Damian’s smile might have been
considered charming to someone who didn’t know him better. Dick nodded, brain
hazy with his orgasm, “Y-yeah. All yours.” He was sure the question he’d missed
was something like that.
“Good. Let’s go to my room before we confirm all of those rumors the tabloids
have.” Always the logical one. Dick barely managed a grateful smile, as he was
tugged down the hall. It couldn’t be too bad, could it?
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