Warnings: Explicit sexual content; light sadism/masochism; bondage

Pairings: Damian/Dick

Credits: This is a non-profit, fanmade work. All characters are owned by DC. This fanfiction is written by me, please do not repost without my permission.

A/N: Not much to say about this one, it's pretty much PWP smut haha. I wrote it originally for DickDami Week 2016, with the theme of "Flexibility". I tried to interpret the theme in all ways-including literally. And also I combined it with the smut challenge, with the idea of "body worship".

Damian is aged up to an adult, and Dick accordingly. I don't believe ages are specified.

Also, off-topic, but I have a tumblr/twitter in case anyone wants to follow me. My username is lacemonsterbats. You can find information on how to contact me on my profile as well!

His vision was blinded. He breathed lightly through his nostrils, picking up the scent in the air. His heartrate was steady, calm, as he tried to pick up sound—any sound at all—in the room.

Pain was beginning to creep underneath Dick's skin, tip-toeing up his arms. The strain had begun to spread from his upper arms to the other parts of his body, particularly his shoulders and back. Dick shifted in place the best he could, brow furrowing as he felt a dull ache in his knees. The wooden floors of his apartment were hard and unforgiving.

His arms were bound together and pulled behind his back. He could still feel the stretch, the pull, of his muscles as the straps of his cuffs were tied to one of his bed posts.

His legs weren't much better. If it wasn't for the spreader that his legs were bound to, he might have been able to move into a more comfortable position. Although, he supposed, resisting meant playing an entirely different sort of game. So he stayed in place the best he could—arms behind his back, face falling forward, thighs spread, knees bent and planted on the ground.

The difficult part of this wasn't the position. Dick had expected—even gave his express permission—to be tied, repositioned like a mannequin, whichever way it was desired. His body could handle uncomfortable.

What he wasn't expecting was Damian to just leave him there.

With the blindfold on, Dick couldn't tell if Damian was actually gone or just pretending to be gone. Damian's proficiency in the ways of stealth and silence was actually pretty terrifying at the moment. Dick couldn't see him, couldn't hear him, couldn't even smell him with the incense that had been burning in his room. All of his senses had been dulled.

For all Dick knew, the past ten minutes—fifteen, maybe? He didn't exactly have a clock beneath his blindfold—Damian could have been standing right there. Watching him, naked and bound and squirming ever so slightly, in the shadows. Or maybe he had left entirely, abandoning Dick until it was convenient to return.

Either way, it was frustrating. Going into it, he had been more than enthusiastic. He was always up for trying anything, and it wasn't as if this type of play was anything new to them. When Damian expressed that he wanted to take the reins, rather than being ravaged like he preferred, Dick had been ready for it. Excited for it.

But in his mind, he had imagined something entirely different. He imagined the restraints, certainly, but he was expecting Damian to be barking orders, attempting to humiliate him, making him cry and beg—or maybe punishing him, reestablishing some dominance and discipline. Dick could have handled any and all of that.

Leaving Dick completely untouched and making him wait just didn't feel like something Damian would ever do.

It annoyed Dick. A lot. He wasn't even hard. He was just growing steadily impatient—but he had to reel himself back.

This was Damian's fantasy, however odd it may be. He was willing to work with it, he just had to be patient.

He jolted when he suddenly felt something crawl up his spine. A hand, he realized. Damian's hand, rough and callused. But even as he tried to rationalize it, tried to calm himself down, Dick's instincts were still racing a thousand miles and ringing off every alarm. People rarely caught him off guard—he didn't even hear Damian approach him, much less get close enough to touch.

Shit. What if he had been there the whole time, standing within arms reach?

It wasn't until the hand ran up his back, slowly, that Dick was aware of the single bead of sweat rolling down the small of his back. His apartment was warm to begin with and the strain of being in the same position for so long had required some effort. It was also the first time he had been touched since being bound, and he couldn't help but lean towards the simple touch.

Whatever Damian had planned, it was working. Dick was surprised by how sensitive he was to the touch. Surprised by how easily he was slipping into pleasure just as Damian ran his hands over his naked form—hands running up and down his back, his straining shoulders, down his chest and abs. Dick was shaking a little, even felt a small spike of arousal.

A hand rubbed the inside of Dick's thighs—Dick jerked from the touch, not expecting it, the sensation almost tickling, and he might have made a sound if it wasn't for the ball gag in his mouth.

Damian was eerily silent, the hands ghosting over Dick's body. Sensations across his skin, down his body, stroking down the dip of his pelvis before finally, the hand cupped over his cock.

Dick felt the warmth of Damian's hand as he wrapped himself around Dick's steadily rising erection. Dick's brow furrowed slightly, his breaths lost beneath the gag, as Damian slowly stroked him until he was completely hard.

If this was his reward just for staying in place, it seemed like a good payoff. Dick almost wondered if it was going to be this easy.

Suddenly he felt a hand running through his hair, felt Damian hook his finger beneath the strap of the gag. Dick made sure to hold his breath, not wanting to seem too eager. His mouth had stretched for so long to the point of aching. The ball was coated in a layer of saliva that was more than uncomfortable. Dick wanted it gone, almost more than the restraints and the spreader.

He might have said something if Damian hadn't tricked him, removing the blindfold first instead.

When their eyes met, Dick could see it. That wild, dark desire in his eyes. But it was mixed with something else too—affection, pride. It made Dick feel weak.

It made Dick want to please.

So when Damian did finally remove the gag, and looked him in the eyes and said, "How are you doing?"

Dick couldn't answer with anything but, "I could do this all day."

"Good," Damian said, seeming genuinely pleased.

Dick quickly regretted his answer when the gag was back, followed by the blindfold. Dick felt more than a little irritated, but he couldn't help but blame himself for letting his expectations get carried away. Nothing with Damian was easy, not even this.

In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have relented this much control to someone so domineering and arrogant, especially when that someone had the testosterone of a young twenty-something. But the thought, at the time, had genuinely excited him—now he was just feeling disappointed, and even though his cock was hard now, he still wasn't sure if this was worth it.

Dick breathed in and out slowly. He loved Damian, truly. The kind of love that made him more willing, more patient, than he usually would act. He was willing to submit, to bend—however literally that may be.

His shoulders were beginning to move from the realm of aching to full-blown pain.

Dick lost Damian again. He tried to pick up on him but he heard no footsteps, no breathing, nothing. The smell of cinnamon and smoke still lingered in the air. He felt almost lonely, being in this room without as much of a sound to share company with him.

Then suddenly, his aching arms were jerked back. Dick winced at the pain that awoke in his shoulders. His arms were being tugged—Dick listened carefully as he heard the straps move around. The straps tying his arms together unwound, one by one, each release bringing Dick a fragment closer to relief. When the strap tying his wrists to the post were finally released, Dick nearly stumbled forward, his arms finally falling at his sides. Dick nearly sighed in relief. He wasn't being abandoned again after all.

He was suddenly pulled forward, across the floor, his breath hitching in surprise. He was positioned onto his back, legs drawn up. Damian grabbed one of his hands and Dick felt the bonds around his wrist pull. The strap was tightened—and Dick's face flushed slightly, realizing now where Damian was going with this. He was tying his wrists to the spreader bar, forcefully drawing his legs up. The new position was incredibly exposing, Dick was certain that Damian could see everything, and it embarrassed him in a way that made even Dick blush a little.

It was most comfortable to keep his knees drawn to his chest, rather than bending his legs forward. It felt good to be on his back but now Dick was becoming aware of the ache in his knees and thighs. He laid the back of his head on the floor, trying to breathe in, trying to relax.

A cold sensation made him jolt. Dick shivered as something was poured onto his chest. His mind searched to guess what it was—it wasn't thick, like lotion. Then Damian's hands moved, the liquid warming against Dick's skin, and he finally recognized it.

It all seemed so strange. It felt too sensual to be Damian's touch. Dick was still waiting—waiting for Damian to toss him around some more, waiting for him to pull the straps so tight that they hurt. But his hands simply touched him more, massaging the best they could with his arms and legs in the way. And it felt nice. Felt good to have Damian pay so close attention to his body, to touch his chest and tweak his nipples and caress his sculpted core. Felt good to finally regain—however little—relief in his arms. It left Dick sighing and moaning behind the gag, his mind felt like it was drifting. He hardly remembered the pain at all.

He felt Damian's hand, softened and slippery from the oil, taking his erection. Dick moaned softly around the gag. Damian was paying careful attention to his cock—not moving too fast, just barely stroking over it, letting the oil guide his hand. Paying attention to every bit of the member—stroking from base to tip, as if it were something precious.

Fuck. Dick wanted to arch up into the touch. He wanted more. But his body was nearly planted to the ground.

Then he felt Damian rub over his entrance, his fingers warm and slick. Not pressing, just moving over it. Teasing it. Dick groaned in anticipation, waiting for it, feeling his body heat at the dual sensations. Damian's fingers prodded in, just barely, and Dick clenched his hands in response.

Damian continued to stroke Dick's cock. Up and down. Massaging the tip. Corkscrewing up. His fingers teasing at his entrance. Everything was agonizingly, maddeningly slow. Dick was sick of waiting.

Fingers—two?—pushed in. Dick stilled—he felt his chest rise and fall as he breathed, still waiting. They slipped in a little further, the oil allowing the digits to glide in well enough. Dick's body felt overly sensitive, heated and desirous for every touch. Wanting every bit of Damian's fingers as they penetrated him deeper, down to the knuckles.

The hand slowly pumped his cock at an even pace, fingers still inside of him. Even though the digits inside of him were nonmoving, Dick shivered, simply enjoying the feeling of being penetrated. Enjoying Damian inside of him.

Dick continued laying on his back, legs forced apart and pulled up, as Damian fingered him. Slowly, shallowly at first. Exploring inside of him. Spreading inside to stretch him. Hand still sliding consistently around his cock, the sounds of the slick oil sounding almost perverse. Dick was forced to lay there, accepting the pleasures that Damian gave him, but lacking the ability to do much about it. Not able to lean towards the touch. Not able to feel Damian in return.

Dick stopped at the thought, wondering. His visitor had to have been Damian. But still, the hands were almost like a ghost's, mysterious in their movements. Dick was becoming aware of how blind he was. He wondered what look Damian had on his face at that very moment—was his brow furrowed in concentration? Was that look of desire still in his eyes? Was it difficult for him to stay silent, jaw-clenchingly so?

Dick wondered if he was still dressed. Wondered if he was naked instead. Or, maybe Dick's weakness: he was only partially dressed.

His mind was drifting elsewhere. Damian's fingers left his body before pressing in, three this time, slicked up again. Dick was groaning, his mouth uncomfortably wet from the ball gag, and he's aware of how lewd he probably looks—stretched and penetrated and still moaning wantonly for more. He wanted to taste Damian instead—his lips, his skin, his cock. Wanted to moan loudly, wanted to whisper to him and describe how good he felt. Wanted their bodies to meet, fully. Completely.

Damian pushed into him, fingers massaging him from the inside, looking for the sweet spot that would have Dick crying and whining behind his gag. Dick accepted the pleasure of being penetrated—repeatedly, deeply. Accepted being stretched around Damian's fingers. His body stirred, the pleasure finally beginning to build up by Damian's hands. He squirmed, trying to get the angle right—and breathed in sharply through his nostrils when Damian just barely grazed against his prostate.

Damian picked up on it. He didn't rush but he began to prod at the spot more, a little more aggressively, pumping his cock all the while. Dick was groaning now, voice muffled but far from quiet, as Damian fingered against his prostate. Sparks of pleasure raced through his body, pleasure that raced through every limb and nerve. His body was trembling now—shivering against the hard floor. He wanted to spread his aching legs even further to give Damian access. He was sweating, heart racing, body shaking.

Damian was pushing into him faster now. Deep and quick, but steady and controlled. Pumping him a little more freely. Dick listened to the squicks of the warm oil. Shit, if Damian kept this up—

Dick's body was hot. So hot. Desire clouding his mind. Pleasure crawling through his body, making him clench his toes and fists. Heat was beginning to rush downwards. He was going to finish.

Damian dug in his fingers in all the way, stilling against Dick's prostate, but the hand wrapped around his cock disappeared.

Dick's brow furrowed, wondering about the hold-up. His hole clenched around Damian's fingers—he tried to relax, but he was so close. So close to the edge that he felt something—something like an itch, something impatient, rising to the surface. He clenched his eyes shut beneath the blindfold, feeling the wetness in the corner of his eyes. God, he just wanted to finish.

If it wasn't for the gag, he might have started begging. But instead, he was forced to wait, without even his eyesight to give him a hint of what was happening.

Several long moments passed. The build-up was gone. Dick was beginning to lose his erection. He sighed a little.

Damian's hand was on him again—but he didn't seem to make any movements to stroke him, simply held his cock in place. Something slipped over the head of Dick's cock. It felt, for a moment, like he was entering something—something very tight, to the point of hurting—but his cock was still exposed to the air. Dick's brow furrowed, not sure if he recognized correctly what was happening.

Or maybe he knew and just didn't want to believe it.

Wait.

He felt Damian's hands moving, fingers brushing against his shaft, felt the pressure release off of the head, until there was a final tightness around the base of his cock.

Damian, you evil, sadistic—

The wheels in Dick's mind had taken too long to turn, finally recognizing the strategy in Damian's game when he was already at checkmate. Damian had played well—making him wait in position for an agonizingly long, undisclosed period of time, building him up in anticipation for his touch. Then finally giving it to him, making him eager for it, making him love it, bringing him to the edge...

Just to take it away again.

The cock ring hurt with how worked up he had been. Now his cock seemed to be in some type of stasis, hot and full and erect again. He wasn't sure if he was more frustrated with Damian's cruelty or for allowing his partner to get inside of his head and mess it all up. In retrospect, this is what he should have been expecting. Not callous, pointless ruthlessness—but complete, calculated dominance.

"How are you feeling?" Damian asked, even though he knew damned well that Dick couldn't speak. Dick's groan around the gag sounded almost pathetic, especially when Damian's hand idly ran over his shaft, making sure it was fully hardened again. Damian patted his cheek, more than a little condescendingly. "Good. I'll be back."

Wait, wait, wait.

Dick heard the footsteps this time—rather, Damian let him hear the footsteps.

Fuck.

But then the footsteps stopped. Dick paused, listening, though his body was still shaking with arousal. There was a sound as Damian turned on the wooden floor, back towards him.

"I forgot something," he said.

Dick felt annoyed. Bullshit. He waited for what Damian had planned.

Dick froze when he heard a sudden noise. A noise that was almost mechanical. A noise that almost sounded like whirring. It didn't take Dick long to figure it out.

Dick's strained erection didn't even stir under the restraint of the cock ring. But his face certainly did heat up.

Damian poured oil directly over Dick's exposed hole, rubbing it around his entrance. Warming the liquid. It felt so nice but with his cock bound, Dick nearly wanted to scream. His noises were becoming a little more frantic, his chest rising and falling as he panted and moaned desperately. Dick finally felt it—felt the head of the vibrator push in.

Dick's toes curled as the thick vibrator pushed in, roughly the same width of Damian's fingers, possibly larger. It slowly slid past his entrance, causing Dick to whimper once. Then it continued and Dick felt the drag of its length, his eyes unable to warn him of how deep it would go. By the time it finally stopped, Dick's entire body, spread legs and all, was shaking.

Dick winced as the vibrator moved around experimentally, every micro movement making him squirm. Finally, it was angled just right—Dick cried out pathetically as the sensations of the vibrator began to hit against his prostate.

"There," Damian said with a tone of satisfaction. He rubbed one of Dick's arms soothingly, comfortingly. "I'll have a timer set for you. Make sure this is still inside of you when I come back or else I'll have to reset it."

Evil, sadistic, pompous—

Damian left this time. When the footsteps disappeared, Dick became aware of a faint noise.

Ticking.

But for how long? Damian didn't say. Dick groaned, listening to the timer tick on. He almost preferred the silence. The sound was getting to him, reminding him that he had to wait.

Even the smell of the incense was beginning to get to him. The smell of the spices filling the room acted like an aphrodisiac, increasing his haziness, filling his head.

The heat of the room, the ache of his muscles, the flush of his skin, were all making him sweat. He could feel the perspiration lining his hairline, feel the sheen on his skin.

He struggled with keeping still. He couldn't move, not really, except maybe side to side. The vibrator continued to graze, just barely, against his prostate—giving him no relief. Part of Dick wished it was gone, but mostly he wished Damian would come back and fuck him with it.

But Damian had threatened to restart the timer if he couldn't keep the toy inside of him. With his legs spread and drawn to his chest, he had to clench around the vibrator to make sure it stayed put—forcing the toy to stay, vibrating against him. And it was, in that way, difficult to stay still.

When his muscles relaxed, he could feel the vibrator shifting inside of him, and so he tensed again. It was an agonizing process—and the most difficult part is that it forced Dick to make the choice. He knew well enough that no matter how twisted their game, Damian would never actually force him to do anything against his will. So it was a choice between giving up, prolonging the game, or playing along as instructed—and it was all being placed on whether or not Dick was willing to let go.

He was imagining Damian again. That dark, cunning look in his eyes. The hands that were capable of caressing him almost gently.

He imagined Damian, who had been underneath him so many times. Remembered his cries whenever he fucked him deep. Remembered how tense, how rigid, how stubborn of a person Damian was, and how easily those parts of his personality melted away whenever Dick was deep inside of him.

Dick felt a stirring inside of him, akin to lust and desire. But there was something deeper to it, too. Something that made his heart race a little faster, something that reenergized his tired body and pushed him to keep going.

Suddenly, a chime.

The timer.

Dick exhaled out his nose. He didn't feel relieved as much as he felt ready. He waited for Damian to arrive.

And waited. And waited.

The vibrator continued to buzz against his abused prostate.

He had been in the same position for so long. He had kept himself clenched around the vibrator for so long. He had been hard for so damn fucking long. He wanted to relax, to let go. But he believed in Damian's threat to restart the timer so he stayed still, not doing anything that would risk moving the vibrator.

He tried to count seconds but his mind was lost. All he could focus on was his painful erection and the buzzing of the vibrator.

Then suddenly, footsteps. Dick didn't bother to restrain himself—he made a faint whining sound. The footsteps stopped a bit before him.

Dick keened when the vibrator slowly pulled out, his body finally relaxing. He felt the drag of the length, felt it stop at the tip before diving back in. It felt good to have it moving, felt good to have it thrust inside of him, but he was still so hard. So hard.

The vibrator thrusted in and out briskly, mercilessly. Everything up to that point had been slow, testing his patience. It was almost relieving, in a way, to go fast. Go deep. Go hard. Dick was certain that if he wasn't bound, he would have finished right there—climaxing with the toy fucking him deep.

Dick began to wince, not sure how much more he could take. He needed to come. Needed Damian to make him come.

The toy was finally pulled out, still buzzing. Dick felt skin brush against his, near his wrist. He heard a strap come undone. His entire body relaxed as his arms were untied from the spreader, giving him free access to his arms, though his thighs were still spread and in pain.

Damian repositioned him. Dick was back on his knees again. His hands were bound together, loosely behind his back. Dick flinched as the vibrator was pushed in all the way to the base, achingly deep, the deepest it had gone. Dick's thighs were quivering as he struggled to stay on his knees. Damian kept it still, pushed the toy in all the way while it shook inside of him. Kept it in while Dick trembled with sensations running through his body. Then, finally, Damian relented.

The vibrator was removed for the last time.

"Hold still," Damian instructed. Dick stayed in position.

Dick felt something around his neck. Heard the sound of clinking metal. Felt the stiff material around his neck tighten and clasp with a sound. Some type of collar. It was heavy—there was something attached—a chain, maybe, from the sounds of it. His thoughts were confirmed when the chains fell loosely against his back, completely cold.

Dick suddenly felt the collar around his neck being yanked backwards. He heard the jingling of chains, felt something wrap around the rings of his handcuffs. His brow furrowed a little trying to figure out where Damian was going with this, realizing it a little too late when the line attached to his collar suddenly shortened, fastened around his handcuffs, forcefully arching his back.

He would have swore if it wasn't for the gag. The muscles in his thighs were now quivering, already weakened and now straining past their limits to keep himself balanced as his back was bowed, his neck tied to his hands. He felt the strain in his lower back, restricting to the point where Dick was torn between screaming and crying in frustration.

His entire body jerked when he felt a hand on his thigh. He was shaking now, the simple touch trailing light sensations up his legs, across his groin. Just light, the barest tips of Damian's fingers, travelling over Dick's sensitive flesh.

Damian was never this gentle. Dick didn't realize, until that frustrating moment, how badly he hated it. He wished Damian would just touch him.

"I'm actually impressed with how long you've lasted," he heard Damian's voice—fuck, when did he get that close to his ear?—whisper to him. There was a darkness to his compliment, something almost cruel, and Dick could picture his smirk. And his hand would not stop moving. Dick groaned in response, mouth stifled by the gag. "It's remarkable, really, that your body can maintain itself this long."

Dick shuddered as the hand traced over his abs, his chest, his aching shoulders.

He cried out a little, muffled, as he felt Damian's mouth, wet and soft, kiss and suck at his lower abdomen. His lips and tongue traced around the contours of his muscles. Dick felt Damian's hands, both now, travelling across his skin. His thighs, his arms, one of them settling at his chest and tweaking at his nipple.

Fuck.

His back was sweating, straining from his bowed position. But he couldn't keep still—every sensation on his skin made him jerk around, and he could only go so far. He was torn between moving toward Damian's hands, which gave him pleasure but worsened his situation, or pulling away, which gave him no relief. Rarely did Damian ever pay this close attention to just touching him.

Dick felt his hard cock, twitching, and wanted to beg.

"You look so good like this," Damian murmured. His hand touched between Dick's spread thighs—he almost moaned but the touch was short lived, the hand immediately moving elsewhere on his body. "I can see every muscle in your body straining. I wish I could just keep you like this forever."

Despite his anger and frustration, Dick found himself melting at the words. He was loving the attention.

"You're so good. I know you can do even better things for me," Damian murmured, every word of praise sinking Dick lower and lower.

He wanted to be good.

He cried out when the chain linking his collar to his cuffs was tightened even further. He was screaming now, every yelp muffled by the gag.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He tried to still himself, tried to calm down, but he felt like he was breaking now. Damian was absent for a moment—Dick couldn't hear him, couldn't sense him in the space. He gave Dick a few moments to adjust to his new restrictions.

Dick could feel the collar beginning to dig into his throat. His thighs were burning now. His toes clenched and curled with pain. He felt a hot burn in his eyes beneath the blindfold. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

And the entire time, he could feel his erection, desperate for release.

Dick heard a familiar sound. The sound of a bottle being uncapped. He tried to restrain himself but his heart was beating impossibly fast with the anticipation of what was coming next.

He groaned, nearly sobbing, as he was penetrated again. From the movements, the feel and the faint heat, it seemed like it was Damian's fingers that were inside of him again. Thrusting, stretching, prodding. A tremor went through his entire body, bringing him pain and pleasure, as the fingers massaged against his prostate. Dick didn't know if he wanted to yell no or yes, he was an entire mix of emotions. Everything turmoiling inside of him, head lost in the haze, the desire and the pleasure and the pain and the love and the frustration.

He felt a slight tug on the chain linking his collar to his handcuffs.

"I want you to go further," Damian said. But he wasn't demanding it.

Nothing about this whole situation involved Damian demanding things.

It was about testing Dick.

Testing him to see how far he was willing to go.

Dick breathed for a few moments, feeling conflicted. Wanting to please but not sure if he could handle any more pain. Not sure if it was possible for him to bend backwards any further.

"Richard," Damian's voice called out to him, quietly. There was the slightest bit of a question to the name as he waits for the answer. The hand that had been hooked around the chain began to slacken its hold.

Dick wasn't sure if he could do it.

But he nodded.

Dick heard Damian breathe in, just slightly.

The chain was tightened even shorter. Dick was bent nearly completely backwards. The pain spreads like a hot fire across his back. He's loud. He's sobbing. He's like that for a long, agonizing moment—then Damian's hands were reaching for the collar. Dick heard it, felt it finally unclasp.

The collar fell off of him, hanging off of his wristcuffs, and Dick could feel where the perspiration had begun to form underneath as the air hit his throat. Then came the cuffs and Dick practically gasped with relief, finally able to bend properly. He immediately sat back up on his knees. The rest of his restraints were hurriedly removed, the gag undone. Dick didn't have time to roll his jaw, to regain the feeling back, when his mouth was suddenly consumed.

Dick moaned in the kiss, his jaw still loose from being pried open, the kiss excessively wet. He felt the blindfold being ripped off of him. He clenched his eyes, the light hurting his eyes. When he reopened them, he was being pulled up, his legs wobbly from being in the same position for so long. He was tossed onto the bed, landing on his back. His fantasy of Damian being half-dressed turned out to be a reality. Dick eyed the naked torso hungrily, stromg shoulders and muscles and the skin he had desparately missed seeing, and watched as Damian quickly undid his belt, the buckle clanging in the room. He pulled out his erection, already thick and hard because he had been waiting too, immediately situating himself between Dick's legs, and thrusted in all the way in one single motion.

Dick cried out, the noise loud, reverberating in the space. Soon he was cursing, cursing as Damian's cock buried inside of him, all the way to the base. The vibrator was nothing like this. Damian was hot, thick, pulsing.

Dick looked up, their eyes locking for a moment. Damian's gaze felt wild, unhinged, with desire.

Damian didn't make him wait long. He immediately starting ramming into him, cock fucking him deep. There was nothing steady or planned or manipulated about the way Damian fucked him, just erratic, almost desperate, movements. Dick cried out with every thrust, each thrust bringing him higher. He moved freely on the soft bed, the relief of his body pleasurable enough on its own.

Damian kissed Dick's tears away, kissed his throat and his wrists where the restraints had been. Lovingly. He massaged Dick's body as he moved inside of him, caressed the abused muscles. Dick just sighed and moaned, lost in the ministrations. Lost in how free he felt.

His cock was still bound but he paid no mind.

This was good.

So good.

And somewhere, lost in the haze of pleasure that drowned out every corner of Dick's mind, he wondered how Damian managed to do it. How he managed to make it worth it.

Through all of the pain, the frustration, he always made it worth it.

Damian reached for his cock, finally releasing the cock ring. He started to stroke him off and it didn't take much longer than that. Dick practically screamed as he came, his voice reverberating off the walls, the sound strangled and nearly sobbing as the heat rushed through his groin. His body lifted off the bed, hips convulsing as he came. Damian stroked him through it.

When he was done, Damian began to thrust into him faster. Fucking into his sensitive body.

"Ah, Damian—"he started, not sure if he could take anymore. Not sure if he could handle the brisk pounding against his prostate so soon after coming. But he bit his lip—

Just a little longer.

He just had to wait a little longer.

Damian soon finished, gripping Dick's hips bruisingly hard. Groaning between his teeth as his cock pulsed inside of Dick, giving his final thrusts before finally stilling. Dick felt Damian finish, hot and thick, inside of him.

They both stayed in position a moment longer, catching their breaths. Damian finally pulled out and Dick shivered as he did so, his entrance exposed to the air.

The mattress shifted as Damian laid next to him. They basked in their afterglow for a few moments, regaining themselves. Dick slowly became aware of the sweat drying on his skin. Finally, Damian turned over. Dick felt his kiss, lips dragging over his throat and shoulders.

"How are you—"

"You're evil," Dick grumbled, covering his face. But he said it lightly enough.

"You said you were up for anything," Damian reminded him, sounding more than a little amused. His hands continued to run over Dick's body, soothingly.

It felt nicer than Dick expected. Perhaps because he had been aroused for so long under the cock ring, but the touch was almost making him excited—despite the fact that he just had one of the craziest orgasms he had ever experienced. He didn't close his eyes—didn't want to, after being blindfolded for so long—so he simply watched Damian's hand moving in circles across his skin.

"It was fun," Dick finally admitted, and he turned his head on the pillow. Their lips met again, slowly this time.

They kissed idly for awhile on the bed. Dick savored the taste of Damian's lips this time. It felt good to move his mouth after being gagged for so long. They stayed in bed, gently touching, gently kissing. Dick felt a stirring inside of him.

"What about you?" Dick asked after awhile, looking at Damian.

"It was different," Damian said. "I enjoyed it. A lot." He seemed hesitant, adding, "But—"

He stopped himself, seeming unsure of whether or not to say it. Dick just chuckled a little, reading his mind.

"It's okay. You had fun but you prefer doing things our usual way," Dick said, reading his mind. He expected as much—Damian was usually set in his ways.

"I wouldn't mind doing it again, especially if it means getting to see you like that again," Damian said, his smirk confident to the point of arrogance. "But not for awhile, I don't think. Is that alright?"

"Of course it's alright," Dick said, suddenly sitting up. Damian eyed him a little curiously, especially as Dick gently guided his legs, kneeling in-between them. "In the meantime—"

Damian blinked as Dick suddenly tugged him by the hips, Dick's erection pressed between them.

This time, it was Dick's turn to smirk.

"—you've given me some ideas."