Summer Gold

The fine, glittering sheen sticks to Jason’s skin, caught in his hair and in the back of his throat. Tingeing the cool, cycled air of the Batmobile with honeyed sweetness that shares easily. The close confines aren’t the most comfortable environment, but it’s better than the damn alley. Far better, in Jason’s opinion, and Bruce can’t find it in himself to argue otherwise. Not with Jason warm and enthusiastic in his lap, despite the awkward press of that position.

The suit isn’t really designed for this. Wasn’t designed with any sort of quick gratification in mind, and in the moment Bruce does lament that just slightly. With Jason’s muscular thighs pressed close at his hips and the inability to really appreciate that. He can at least appreciate the solid weight of the man as he rocks against Bruce. Of bruising kisses and sharp teeth against what little of his throat Jason can reach with the cowl pushed back.

Jason tastes of sweet violets and honey, smells like summer heat and clover and sex, and the insistent roll of his hips is as distracting as the low sound vibrating in his chest. It’s that pale gold that glistens in his hair and runs in glittering rivulets down his neck. Jason had said as much and Bruce would have known even if he hadn’t said a word. This hadn’t come from a greenhouse, wasn’t something Bruce had a ready antidote to or tolerance for. Wasn’t something he was all that concerned about either.

Bruce watches a trail of pale gold track its way down towards the open collar of Jason’s button down and leans up to drag his tongue against it. The sound Jason makes goes straight to his cock. That soft, feather light gasp catches and morphs into a pleased sigh.

Jason rocks against him with a little more urgency, lip curling in mild frustration at the lack of bare skin. Another soft sigh slips from him as Bruce mumbles something against his throat. Something about moving up a little, so that he can reach. The strong hands on his arse punctuate the request, turning it almost into a command as Bruce grips and pulls Jason closer. Lifts him up so that he has to bow over Bruce to not hit his head on the roof of the ridiculous car.

The firm grip on his arse doesn’t relent, one hand still kneading at him even as he’s allowed to rest back on Bruce’s thighs. Whatever he’d done hadn’t exposed any further skin, but Bruce rocks against him anyway. Grinding up to match Jason’s urgent pace. Gauntlets rough through his shirt and his slacks where Bruce grips him and doesn’t let him go far.

Jason growls low in his throat and crushes his mouth to Bruce’s again. Hands buried in the man’s hair and holding his head back against the seat while he grinds down. The gold shimmer that glosses his senses burns sweet in his veins, mingling with sweat and musk, and it sinks low. Humming under his skin with the need to touch, to be touched, to let himself feel everything, to share that with the man under him if only for a moment.

Bruce makes a helpless noise in the back of his throat, sucking on Jason’s tongue as the tension pools low in his belly. Toes curling in his boots as Jason pulls back and bites at his mouth. As he rides out the heat in his veins and drags Bruce along with him.

Jason grunts and stills, a fine tremor running through his tensed thighs as he pants over Bruce. Curled over him still with the faint pale sheen of gold still clinging in his sweat damp hair, glistening on his skin. He looks utterly wild and Bruce swallows a groan as he comes with Jason’s weight settled firm over his hips. Jason looks at him with a lopsided smile and presses a softer kiss to the corner of his mouth before carefully manoeuvring himself back into the passenger side.

Dropping into his own seat again in a languid sprawl that seems unfair in the circumstances. Bruce look across at him, dishevelled and rakish, and swallows hard. Pulling his cowl to rights doesn’t hide the flush in his face, his bruised and bitten lips, or the smears of pale gold across his jaw. He does it anyway to give himself a moment to breathe. Tries to ignore the thick smell of floral honey sweetness, summer heat, and sex that don’t cycle out quickly at all.

“Bruce?” Jason licks his teeth and shifts in his seat. Subtly rearranging himself in his sticky trousers, seemingly without any shame at all.

“Hm.” Bruce keeps his eyes on the road as he accelerates away from the alley.

“Mine’s the other way.” Jason says, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

“Mm.”

Jason laughs silently through his nose and tugs open another button below his collar. At this point, the cave and Wayne manor were closer. The urgency was gone, dissipated from his blood already, but they’d both been denied the ability to really touch. That the enchantment was mostly spent meant little.

“Yours it is.” Jason says, noting the hint of a smile that tugs at Bruce’s lips.

No, it doesn’t matter that the enchantment is mostly spent. It’ll have enough of a charge left to be worth it by the time they have room to appreciate it. Though, there is something deeply gratifying in knowing he’s still flexible enough to manage as he had. And the low growl of the engine makes his skin buzz.