It's Valentine's Day, he can be a little forward, right? It's the end of the night and they're back at one of their safe houses, so there's no risk of getting caught by random people, thugs, or one of the many weird types of criminals Gotham brews up, not unless the stupid motherfucker wants a bullet to their head and a blade through their heart, at least. And it's sort of good to change the dynamic some, since Red Hood has been the one to get handsy first in occasions they got to start something post-patrol.
Thus, as soon as Jason takes his helmet off, he's having his face cradled between gloved palms and pulled towards Corvus, who kisses him passionately. He starts with just the press of their lips together as if to ask if Red is fine with this before doing anything else, then gazes into his eyes and upon finding their usual silent agreement, tilts his head a little more to deepen the kiss as his hands slide dow to his chest, staying over the kevlar armor and feeling his breathing while he nips on the man's full lips and, once allowed to, slides his tongue in to deepend the touch of their lips.
Then, Corvus begins to walk backwards while bringing Red with him, slow guiding him until the back of his hips find a table, and props himself up to sit on the top with his legs open around the man's waist all without ever letting go of the man's lips.
He wasnât asking for this, not wanting to be another who was pushing Corvis into thinking this was all he wanted, but it was how he expressed shit and maybe that was the wrong way. Or so he thought but now those hands were holding his face, causing eyes to cast down just a bit so they could angle to look at the otherâs face. It felt like trouble now a days to be involved, but Jason did not make it any easier. Hell, he was trouble too.Â
Those cared for lips felt so soft against his scarred ones and when they moved away, Jason followed not obediently but thirsty for the affection they continued to try and start but never had a chance to follow through on. The invite between thighs was taken, thicker hips settling and forcing them more apart while his form leaned slightly.Â
Palms went flat against the table, bracketing Corvus in when mouths parted for a mere few inches. âDo you want me?â It was consent for guilt more than a need to feel needed. He remembered the man eagerly taking his cock into that pretty mouth and attempting to take more until they were interrupted. Here, there was no chance of that to save them both from each other and he could not decide yet if it was a good or bad thing.