#jasondami

I think how Baby Bat would be on the bottom really has everything to do with who he’s with.

Let’s say he’s the toppiest bottom there possibly is when he’s with Tim. Needy and demanding, pouting and gripping tight to hips and throat and that ass. He’s pushy and flirty, literally wrapping his legs around Tim’s thighs so he can rut them together and wiggle his hips in invitation. 

He wants long fingers working him open while he’s writhing under Tim’s mouth. He gets to grip too-long hair and buck his hips every time fingers brush his spot. 

Because Tim loves the fight just a little, even after all these years, they fight for top a few times, but Dami already knows Tim will give in and let him have his ride.

(And it’s because Dami is so fucking sexy when he’s rolling his hips, upper body arching, and those panting moans with the most intense bedroom eyes.) 

In most of those instances, when they’re both so close, Tim grips Baby Bat by the hips and fucks up into him until they’re both gone.

…

Jason Motherfucking Todd.

^ Because he’s a man what knows about seduction, Sweets, an’ ya can betcha ass–

–he’s gonna make it good.

So with Jason, Dami like to let the Red Hood direct him, likes to follow. After all, other than Father, Jason is the only one of the Robins taller than him, broader in the shoulders and chest.

And at time, Dami likes to be…submissive.

He gives in to Jay’s mouth, and that old Gotham accent working shudders through him when all the words breathed against his skin are absolute sin.

“Gonna feel so good under me, ain’tcha, Baby Bat? Gonna be nice n’ tight, lemme work ya open, getcha ready ta take my cock. Give it t’ ya nice n’ slow ta start, fuck ya deep just like ya want it, need it, yeah? Don’t chu worry, sweetheart, m’ gonna take such good care a’ that ass, take ya right ta Heaven.”

It makes something low in Dami’s belly burn when Jay effortlessly manhandles him on his knees right over his face and eats that ass like it’s dinner time. He holds Damian upright, making him focus on how well he opens up under Jay’s hands and mouth.

And when the older vigilante wrangles Baby Bat to his knees, slides in so fucking slow, the kid just whines in desperation until Jay bottoms out, kisses the back of his sweaty neck and purrs.

“S’fucking good, Dami. Yer s’ damn tight and wet.”

He starts it out easy, lettin’ Sweets get used t’ him, letting him feel it all the way, yeah? Give ‘em something ta look forward to. He doesn’t speed up until Dami’s panting and glassy-eyed, mewing softly.

(Because Jason? Is such a fucking tease.)

**

Now, everything is a whole different story when it comes–

–to Grayson.

His partner, his Batman. The first of them to honestly put trust in him. 

He’s wanted Richard longer than he understood what wanting really was. 

Dick is easy-going enough to let Dami take the lead (at first) and is patient while Dami sits in his lap and licks into his mouth, hands wandering all over the acrobat’s lithe body. 

He helps when the clothes start to come off and bites down on Dami’s throat, hands roaming to find all the right spots.

He’s fine laying out, letting Dami touch him, learn him, map out his skin and scars. He moans deep when the warm wet around his cock is so amazing he can’t help the little thrusts of his hips, tells his partner how much he loves this, wants this, never knew how much he needed.

Dick’s voice is softly cajoling when it’s his turn now. And because he was Robin, was Batman, is Nightwing, he’s fast and sly, moving Dami’s heavier muscles with finesse, a practiced lover.

It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask if his Robin’s preference is bottom or top, but the answer is right there when Dami arches into him, breathless demanding are you going to prepare me to take you sometime tonight? Or will I need to wait for another time?

Still a snarky little shit. 

Just how Dick loves him.

And, you know, he can be such a pain in the ass when he purposely finds tickle spots at the first touch, working through the initial stretch with a squirmy, laughing Dami, knees wedged under his Robin’s thighs to hold him open and propped up for it (also a very familiar fighting move he’d shown Dami himself, so the way to counter is right there at any time).

So of course Dami’s going to flip them with a twist of hips and thighs when he can no longer take it, Grayson, I am ready. 

When he seats himself in Dick’s lap, chest stuttering under Dick’s hands, when he’s so full, and it’s so deep, and he’s babbling in his native tongue, the perfect picture of straining, sweaty, panting mess.

His thighs flex to the knee, hips swivel, and every thrust is hitting him in the perfect spot. He ends up held up by the back of the thighs, Dick pinning him against the wall against the bed to fuck up into him, slowing it down, drawing them both out while Dick talks against his mouth, you can hold out. Just a little longer for me, Dami. I know you can do it.

For fuck’s sake, Grayson, let me come.

They’ve changed position four times before Dick is gracious enough to let him.