Warnings: Explicit sexual content; inappropriate humor; confined spaces

Pairings: Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne

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

A/N: This is another PWP smut story I did for DickDami Week 2016, haha. The theme was "Do He Got a Booty?" and instead of taking it the usual route, I decided to focus on Damian's butt instead of Dick's... haha. For the smut challenge, I tried to do "clothes stay on"... which, I sort of followed, but some clothes kind of get removed.

To this day, this is probably the silliest fic I wrote under this username, hahaha. But I love this story a lot.

Damian entered the safehouse, lowering his hood. While he was pleased to see that he wasn't the last person to arrive, he was more than a little disappointed to see that he wasn't the first. Red Hood, Batgirl, and even Red Robin (to Damian's disdain) had already finished their objectives and were waiting by the computers.

Barbara and Jason seemed to be having their own conversation while Tim was leaning against the desk, a little further away. Damian approached him since he was closest.

"Where's Nightwing and Father?" he asked.

"That's a good question," Tim said. In a loud volume, he said, "Where is Nightwing and Batman?"

Barbara and Jason, who were sitting in front of a row of monitors that appeared to have the city cameras up, were still in the middle of talking and apparently didn't hear. Tim huffed in annoyance. He got up and clapped between them, forcing their attentions.

"Guys, can you please talk about this another time? Seriously, you two are supposed to be watching the cameras."

"Please. They're fine," Jason said, practically scoffing. Damian noticed that Jason had his hood off and his feet propped up on the desk. He was taking this mission way too lightly. "Babs and I are talking serious business."

"Right. Serious." Tim frowned. "If by serious you mean completely inappropriate, then sure."

Now Damian was curious. "What are you talking about?"

"Nightwing's butt," Barbara said.

Damian looked at her, annoyed. "No, really."

"That is what they're talking about," Tim said, exasperated. Damian blinked twice. "They've been talking about it for the past, I don't know, ten minutes? When did you get here, Jason?"

"Okay, for the record, we're not just talking about his ass. We're talking about everyone's asses," Jason said, his hands in the air.

"There's no comparison needed," Barbara said, leaning back in her chair. "Dick's butt trumps all other butts. This conversation was over before it even started."

"It's nice because of the Nightwing suit," Jason said, gesturing across the desk at Barbara. "When he's in civvies, his butt is like, 7 out of 10. Max."

"That's because he has awful fashion sense. Get him into jeans that actually fit and I guarantee you that it will blow your mind."

"Which proves my point. If he needs to wear the right clothes to show off his ass, then he doesn't have one."

"Have you ever actually seen his butt? Like, no clothes?"

"Well, no—"

"So then how would you know?" Barbara said, throwing her hands in the air. "I've seen it! I've touched it, for God's sake—"

"Yeah but how much can we actually trust your knowledge of butts? No offense, Babs, but your dating history is pretty minimalistic. You have nothing to compare him to."

"Oh my God," Tim said, facepalming. "Can we please just focus on the cameras again?"

"You've got a point," Jason said, rubbing his chin.

He turned back to the cameras, which were tracing Nightwing and Batman while they finished up their mission. There were bombs throughout Gotham city and each of them had been given a district to disable. Bruce assigned himself and Dick in the biggest districts, naturally, and it seemed that Dick had just finished disabling one of the bombs. Jason didn't bother putting on his mask, he hit a button on the control panel attached to the computer desk to use the commlink.

"Nightwing," Jason said.

"I believe I just disabled the last bomb. I'm about to head to the safehouse now. What's up?" Dick said. His voice came in through both the computer and all of their commlinks. They all watched the screen—Dick was walking down a street.

"I think I saw something suspicious over in that gutter. Can you check it out?" Jason asked.

"Uh, sure," Dick responded. Nightwing's image was shown in the cameras, bending over to look. "I don't think I see anything."

"You're horrible," Barbara said, slapping Jason's shoulder. Jason had to shut off the mic because he started laughing too hard. Tim muttered a few things under his breath, shaking his head.

Finally, Damian was compelled to say what was bothering him. He shrugged, saying, "I don't get it. Why are you two so obsessed with butts?"

"They're nice to grab," Barbara explained. "You'll understand when you finally start dating."

"They're nice for a lot of things," Jason said with a smirk.

Tim's face was turning red. Serious as ever, he said, "We should focus on our mission, guys."

"What do you think?" Jason said, suddenly turning towards Tim. Tim raised a brow, lifting his mask with it.

"Excuse me?"

"Grayson's posterior. Is it as nice as Barbara says or is it simply overrated?"

Tim's face was nearly red as his vest now. "I'm not answering that."

"Oh, come on. Someone needs to settle this." When Tim didn't budge, Jason turned to Damian. "What about you?"

"Don't make him answer that," Barbara said, cutting in before Damian could even open his mouth.

"Jesus, Babs, he's an adult now. We don't need to coddle him with PG conversations anymore." Jason looked at him. Damian responded by shrugging. "See, Damian agrees with me! It's just okay."

"He didn't say that! He just shrugged!" Barbara turned towards him. "I know it's not really your thing, but you got to admit that his butt is nice, right?"

"Now who's making him answer things?"

"Shut up!"

Since he and Tim were unable to answer, Damian could really only think of one solution. He made sure the commlink was connected to just them and his father and no one else, to avoid any potential misunderstandings.

"Father," Damian said into the commlink. Everyone paused to look at Damian, listening carefully.

"What is it?" Bruce asked. He was scaling a building, likely getting his last bomb.

"Do you think Nightwing has a nice butt?" Damian asked.

Tim elbowed Damian harshly, to which Damian glared in return. Jason just facepalmed. A long, dead silence came from the other side of the mic.

"Get back to work," Bruce said. With a low growl to his voice, he added, "All of you."

Barbara crossed her arms.

"He totally wanted to say yes. You could hear it in his voice."

"Whatever," Jason said, waving it off dismissively.

"I think the reason why you keep dissing on Dick's butt is because you're totally jealous."

"My butt is top tier. Easily."

"Maybe, but is it better than Dick's?" Barbara challenged, smirking. At that, Jason faltered. He sighed heavily.

"Okay, fine. Dick has a nice butt. But I still think my butt is like, top tier."

"In comparison to who's?" Barbara said.

"Are you asking me to compare it to yours?"

"Nah, I have a white girl's butt. I can admit that," Barbara said, patting her hips. "But if you're comparing yourself to the rest of the team—"

"I dare you to find someone better that isn't Nightwing."

Suddenly, the computers announced someone at the entrance. There was a distinct noise as the doors opened up, followed by the low rumble of a motorcycle coming from the entrance. Everyone watched as Nightwing parked next to the rest of the vehicles. He pulled off his helmet, shaking out his hair.

"Dick!" Jason called out. Dick took off his mask as well and turned in Jason's direction. "We need your asspertise!"

There was a unanimous groan at the pun.

"My what?" Dick said, like he wasn't sure if he heard right. He walked up to them.

"We have officially decided that you have the best butt on the team. As such, you need to choose your second in command."

At that, Dick grinned in amusement. But his eyes seemed to sparkle with a bit of mischief, and perhaps Damian was just imagining it but it seemed like Dick's voice lowered an octave, "Are you guys going to lineup and turn around for me?"

Everyone's face seemed to redden slightly. Barbara cleared her throat and spoke first, "I'm sure you have an idea."

Dick shrugged. "Probably Tim."

Suddenly all eyes were on Tim, whose face might as well have turned into a tomato at that point.

"Tim?" Jason said incredulously. He reached over and picked up Tim's cape—to which Tim immediately slapped his hand away. "Eh, you could be right."

"Hold on," Tim said. He scrambled to come up with a way to detract the attention from himself. "First of all, who are we all including? Second of all, have you even seen everyone's butts?"

Dick shrugged dismissively. "Of course I—"but he stopped suddenly, a flicker of thought in his gaze. His eyes suddenly landed on Damian, who had gotten bored of the conversation long ago and zoned out. Everyone else seemed to notice, all of them crowding around him at once.

"That's right," Jason said, scratching the back of his head. "I didn't even consider the brat."

"Come to think of it, his vest goes past his hips, and he wears a cape, so I've never…" Barbara trailed off, tapping her chin.

Damian frowned at the sudden attention he was receiving. This was Drake's fault, somehow. He narrowed his eyes. "Stop whatever it is you're thinking."

"I mean, if genetics are an indicator of anything, Bruce's butt is kind of nice," Barbara said, crossing her arms.

"Talia has a glorious butt," Jason added. Damian glared at him.

"Keep talking and you won't have vocal chords or eyes, Todd," Damian said. He muttered under his breath, "Not that it would be enough to spare any of us, anyways."

"It's not a big deal. You just… have to show us," Jason said.

"It would only take a second," Barbara piped in, hands clasped together.

"Seriously, guys?" Tim said dryly. "This is like harassment at the workplace."

"For once, I have to agree with Drake," Damian said, narrowing his eyes. "I'm not going to do anything."

"Well, it's settled. Tim's butt is confirmed for second best butt," Dick said, looking amused. He moved toward the wall where all of the equipment was stored to put away his helmet and switch out some of his things—leaving the rest of them behind.

"Damian, do you ever think about sex?" Jason suddenly asked. Damian was so taken aback by the sudden question that he failed to register a response.

"Jason, you can't ask that!" Barbara scolded.

"What? It was an innocent question."

"There's really nothing innocent about it," Tim said, also crossing his arms disapprovingly.

"It's okay if you don't," Jason said quickly, looking at Damian, whose mind was still resetting itself. "I'm just, you know, curious. It's weird that you couldn't participate in our butt conversation in the slightest. Do you not find people attractive?"

"Jason, that's really none of our business," Tim said, sighing. "Besides, I stayed out of the conversation too."

"You're just a prude so that makes sense," Jason said, looking at Tim. Tim glared at him. "But Damian's never had a girlfriend or a boyfriend. I'm just, I don't know, wondering if there's more to it."

"Of course I do," Damian said. He could feel heat rising to his face, especially as everyone looked at him expectantly. "I just don't really understand the attractions you guys have."

"What, with Dick?"

"No, idiot, with butts," Barbara said, rolling her eyes. "He's not an ass guy! Not everyone is."

"So what do you like then?" Jason asked.

Damian looked back and forth between all of them. Even Tim, who had admittedly been a valiant defender, was suddenly silent. His curiosity was piqued.

Damian just shrugged. This conversation was making him feel awkward. "I don't know. I guess it depends on the person."

"What about me?" Barbara said, leaning forward. She smiled encouragingly.

"Pfft. Egomaniac," Jason teased. Barbara ignored him.

Damian looked at her. She wasn't quite his type. But if he had to pick something…

"Physique?"

"Like my boobs?"

"No," Damian said, shaking his head at once. He struggled to come up with the words to describe it. "Like… actual physique. Strong but lean. Long-limbed. Like that."

Barbara pondered this, tapping her chin.

"Well what about me?" Jason said next. Tim rolled his eyes at the hypocrisy.

Damian looked at him. Jason was a little closer to what he found attractive. But still, it wasn't quite right. His eyes scanned Jason up and down before finally settling on, "Your hair, maybe?"

Jason looked up, running a hand through his dark hair. He seemed skeptical. "Really? But I haven't cut it. It's getting too long." Finally, he shrugged. "What about Tim?"

Tim looked at him warily, no doubt expecting a scathing comment. Tim was about the same level as Jason. Still, as much as Damian couldn't stand Tim, he had to admit, "Eyes."

Tim looked surprised that Damian had actually said something nice. In truth, his blue eyes were a bit too dark, but Damian stood by his comment.

"That's so sweet," Barbara said, hand over her heart. While she was satisfied, Jason still looked wildly curious.

"What about Dick?"

Damian looked past Jason to see Dick, in the background, who was still by the tools. His eyes travelled over him, mapping his face—from his nose to his cheekbones to his jawline—to the subtler, more unconventional aspects, like the faint crinkles around his eyes when he smiled. His athletic frame—from his strong shoulders and arms to his powerful legs, all honed from years of trapeze and acrobatics, tough but still lean and flexible. His hands, which were capable of both ruffling Damian's hair teasingly and holding escrima sticks in a crowd of enemies.

Damian's brow furrowed a little, feeling a little conflicted. "I don't know."

"Really?" Jason said, laughing a little. He elbowed Barbara. "I told you he was overrated."

"Shut up," Barbara argued. "I'm sure there's something."

Damian frowned a little. It wasn't that there was something. It was that there was everything.

He looked up, almost cautiously, at Dick. He looked carefully at the Nightwing uniform, where the blue stripes led to a V pointing in the center of his back.

"His back?" Damian said.

"Like, his lower back? Because that's what we've been talking about," Jason said.

Damian shook his head a little. "No, his entire back."

At that, both Jason and Tim looked confused. Only Barbara appeared to be not taken aback, a look of deep thought in her eyes. She made a small, amused noise, smiling to herself. Damian wasn't sure if he liked the way they locked eyes, the way she smiled at him knowingly.

"Yeah," she said, quietly. "It is kind of nice, isn't it?"

"Is any of this making sense to you?" Jason asked Tim. Tim just shook his head.

The computer announced another person at the entrance. The batmobile drove in. Bruce got out, moving towards the computers. Dick, noticing his entrance, hurried to congregate with the rest of them.

"Well?" he said. They all looked at each other before looking back at him.

"Well what?" Tim asked. Bruce frowned a little more than usual.

"Have you caught sight of our bomber?"

At that, Barbara and Jason stopped and glanced at each other.

"I thought we were keeping surveillance over everyone to make sure they got all of the bombs safely," Jason said.

"Yes," Bruce said. "But you were also supposed to watch and see if the bomber left any of his known safehouses." He pointed towards the monitors. "That's why those screens are fixed to those locations. So have you seen him?"

"Uh," Barbara and Jason both said. Tim buried his face in his hands.

"You weren't watching," Bruce said flatly. "Alright. We don't have time to go through the recorded footage. Pair up. We're going to have to search the safehouses ourselves." Tim smacked Jason on the arm. Barbara shook her head to herself. Bruce pointed, indicating to the monitors. "Batgirl, Nightwing. Search the the safehouses by the Bay. Red Hood, Red Robin. Search the safehouses downtown. Robin and I will search the ones near the federal plaza."

Barbara held up her hand. "Wait, hold on. The federal plaza? Shouldn't Nightwing and I go there? I know the federal plaza like the back of my hand."

"I need to be there," Bruce said. "The federal plaza is most likely where he will be."

"Then let me go with you," Barbara said.

Dick and Damian glanced at each other. Dick shrugged. "Works for me."

"Fine. Robin will go with Nightwing. Batgirl is with me."

They dispersed to grab their things and get ready. Jason elbowed Tim a little. "Downtown, huh? Wanna get cantina afterwards?"

Tim shook his head to himself. "Unbelievable. You realize this is your fault that we have to do this, right?"

"Yeah but it's Tuesday. $2 Tacos. You gotta look on the bright side."

"We can probably take the south exit. It'd lead us right to the port, no vehicles necessary," Dick said, looking back at Damian. He put his mask back on. Damian nodded in agreement. They walked off together, exiting out of the safehouse and using the rooftops to cross the city quickly. Gotham Bay was not far off.

Damian followed Dick's lead, his gaze darting up. He got a good view of him as they ran, his mind drifting to his earlier conversation as he watched his back.

They came across their first location, hopping off the roof to the ground. They didn't have an exact pinpoint of the location—they walked around, trying to find the door that matched the one found in the monitors.

Dick turned on the flashlight on his bracer, shedding some light onto the walls. He looked around, trying to find the entrance.

"So what exactly were you guys talking about before I got there?" Dick asked, a hint of a smile on his face. Damian knew that Dick was just fishing for compliments. He sighed extra heavily.

"I don't know. I walked into the conversation just a little bit before you did," Damian said, brushing him off. Dick seemed disappointed. Damian looked around the corner to see if he could find the door—nothing. "Also, I might add that it was completely unfair and unnecessary for you to drag me into the middle of it."

"Hey, you can't pin that on me."

Damian felt heat rise to his face. He was getting defensive. "Yes I can. You looked right at me. I was minding my own business until that point. Now everyone is focused on my body."

"I'm sure it's fine. No one is going to do anything—they were just teasing you," Dick said, smiling a little. "It's all in good fun."

"It's embarrassing," Damian corrected sharply. "Look at us. We're searching safehouses because Batgirl and Red Hood couldn't follow directions. We're a team of Gotham's strongest vigilantes and we're still fooling around and talking about—well, you know."

"Relax," Dick said. He reached over and mussed Damian's hair. Dick always teased Damian that way, and while deep down it didn't bother Damian that much, he still forced himself to glare at Dick. Dick just laughed. "They're just curious."

"But why?" Damian said. Snorting a little, he said, "It's really not that big of a deal. I don't know why anyone would want to know."

Dick was oddly quiet, his gaze lasting a moment too long before he finally turned and resumed his search. Damian's face fell, his suspicions rising. He wondered what that look meant.

"What are you thinking?" Damian instantly demanded. Dick looked over his shoulder.

"What? I didn't say anything."

"That's the problem," Damian said, narrowing his eyes. "You always say something."

"Well…" Dick said, slowing to a stop. He looked at Damian and shrugged a little exaggeratedly.

"What?" Damian said, looking at him. Dick smiled a little sheepishly.

"Well, I'm a little curious."

The betrayal stung him. Damian looked at him, aghast. "Not you too."

"Well, we've worked together for awhile, but you always dress so modestly even when we're out of uniform—it's just weird that I've never seen it."

"Tt. That's not it. It's because you're a pervert," Damian said, grumbling. He shouldered past Dick and in the light, he caught a glimpse of something. "Wait, I think I found it. It's over here."

Dick shone the light in the direction Damian was walking. The door was revealed.

"Nice work."

Damian immediately went into prying open the door. They stepped inside. Damian walked into a pull chain hanging from the ceiling. He tugged it, turning on the overhead lights. Dick gave out a low whistle. The safehouse was small and cramped with tons of crates and boxes. The shelves looked unsturdy and worn.

"This must be where he deposits all of his things," Damian said, rubbing his chin. "But he doesn't appear to be in here."

"We should still check out these crates," Dick said. "There could be explosives inside of them. It'd be better to get rid of them now."

Damian stepped further into the warehouse, looking around to see if he could find a crowbar. He found a tool rack on the far opposite wall—over a stack of boxes. He moved towards it, Dick close behind him.

"So…" Dick said slowly, breaking the silence. Damian listened warily. "Is there any way I could convince you to—"

Damian wasn't even going to let Dick finish his sentence. He already knew what Dick was about to ask. "No. Absolutely not," he said. He tugged his cape behind him, making sure that it was covering him as he crawled over a crate so Dick couldn't sneak a look.

They stopped before the tool rack, surrounded by a wall of crates. Damian plucked the crowbar off, but as he did so, the rack came off of the wall and tilted. The corner of it swung back and hit a wobbly shelf. What came after was a strange, almost domino effect, of boxes and crates falling into one another. Damian couldn't help but flinch—the disruption was loud, with dust flying everywhere. Dick had reacted more smoothly, quickly pushing Damian into a corner where nothing could fall on their heads. By the time everything had settled, Damian opened his eyes and found him and Dick trapped in a corner, surrounded by walls of items.

"Damnit," Damian cursed. He looked down at the crowbar in his hands. "I should have known this would be bad luck."

"It's alright," Dick said. He backed up, trying to wipe the dust from his uniform, but their confines were severely limited. He eventually pressed the button on the side of his mask, talking into the commlink. "Hey guys, Robin and I are in a bit of a rough patch."

"Samesies," Jason said.

"We got locked inside one of the safehouses. We're trying to break the code now. It might take a few minutes," Tim elaborated, sighing.

"Batman and I are in one of the safehouses. We think he just left. We're pursuing the trail now. Can you wait?" Barbara said.

"Don't worry about it, we're not in danger. We just got stuck too. We'll get out on our own, just focus on your objectives. Be safe," Dick said and he turned off the commlink.

Damian tried to look around—luckily there was enough light where Damian could sort of see, but it was extremely dim. There was a crack between two crates.

"Do you think you could fit in there?" Damian asked. Dick was more flexible than he was.

"I don't even think I can squeeze past you," Dick said. Indeed, they were so close that Damian could feel Dick's breath hit the back of his neck as he spoke—which felt a little nicer than Damian was willing to admit. "We're about the same size though. Why don't you try first?"

"What if I get trapped?" Damian asked.

"True," Dick said. "But these crates seem too heavy to reasonably push. We could maybe climb over it."

"But then it might collapse," Damian said, frowning.

Damian sighed a little to himself. He set down the crowbar and undid his cloak and hood, not wanting it to potentially get caught. He was beginning to climb up, to get closer to the crevice, when a thought suddenly occurred to him, making him stop.

"Wait a minute, are you making me climb through here on purpose?" Damian said, one knee still on the crate.

"What?" Dick said. He suddenly started laughing. "Man, they made you really paranoid."

"That has nothing to do with it," Damian said. He tried looking over his shoulder but couldn't turn that far. "I just know you."

"Well, if you're that worried, you could just show me and get it over with..."

Damian's face flushed. "I knew it. You're taking complete advantage of this situation." He cursed under his breath, "You really are a pervert."

Dick just laughed harder. Damian steamed in place, both anger and embarrassment steadily rising.

"I mean..." Dick started, and even though Dick was behind him and Damian couldn't get a good look at him, Damian could still see that smile. That cocky, mischievous smile. "We're all alone anyway."

Damian sighed heavily. He couldn't believe he was going to do this. "Fine. Make it quick."

Dick immediately stopped snickering. "Wait, really?"

"Just shut up and do it!" Damian snapped. "Then we can focus on getting out of here."

Damian waited, still halfway up the crate, his face burning with embarrassment as he felt the edges of his vest being pulled aside. Damian felt like it was taking far too long.

"Well? Why aren't you saying anything?"

"It's nothing," Dick said, immediately dropping the garment back down.

Damian frowned a little. He found Dick's lack of response to be somewhat… disappointing. He was certain that Dick was going to at least tease him a little bit, since he found the whole situation so amusing anyways. But nothing.

"Well, either way, if anyone asks, you didn't see."

"Why show me?"

"Pardon?" Damian said, not sure if he heard him right.

"I mean, everyone else wanted to know too. You were all talking about it. So why didn't you show them to get them to leave you alone?"

"Because it's improper," Damian said at once.

"Yet you just showed me."

"That's different," Damian said, gaze diverting. His face was already flushed—but then he began to feel heat in other parts of his body. His ears, his throat, his chest. He was thankful that he was turned around so Dick couldn't see him.

Suddenly Dick pushed his body forward. Damian, startled, put his arm out in front of him—catching himself on a crate as Dick pushed up his body against his. A brief flicker of confusion crossed Damian's mind but any protest was lost in his throat. He opened his mouth to say something, perhaps scold Dick for standing too close, but his mouth was dry. While he was still confused, he had a strong feeling that whatever Dick was doing, he was doing it on purpose.

His suspicions were confirmed when Dick leaned in, his chest pressed against Damian's back, and he whispered, "You mean I'm different."

The breath against Damian's ear caused him to tense. His nerves were shaky. It almost felt easy, like he could just lean back into Dick's body and be surrounded by his embrace.

But that was too crazy, Damian decided. He shook his head to himself, trying to remember that they were trapped… although now he was beginning to notice that Dick's arms were on either side of him, settled on the wall of crates, locking him in. Damian watched the arms on either side of him with close interest, watching how the blue of Dick's uniform extended into his fingertips.

Damian didn't need to see his body. That graceful design was enough to excite him.

"You're in my way," Damian managed to say, stubbornly.

"So when you were all talking, did you have any input?"

Damian's heart was beating a little quicker. He didn't understand how, but something about Dick's voice was almost hypnotic. Low, just enough for Damian to hear, a little slower. Damian reminded himself that Dick was just good at that sort of thing—good at being seductive, sometimes without even meaning to. Just like how, moments ago, he had told his teammates that he needed them to turn around, and it made them all blush when it was just supposed to be a joke. Although it still didn't make sense why he was talking like this to Damian.

"I told you already. I wasn't part of it," Damian said. He failed to mention the other part of the conversation, where the best attributes he could find in everybody already existed in Dick. A little more bitingly, he said, "What do you care anyways? If you want your ego stroked you can ask literally anyone else."

Damian felt Dick's breath fan against his ear, followed by wet sucking on the shell of his ear. Damian felt a spark run down his spine at the unexpected action. He clenched his fists, eyelids growing heavy. One of the hands slipped down,toward Damian's belt, but Damian caught him by the wrist in time.

"What are you doing?" he breathed. He hated how weak he sounded. Hated that all it took was for Dick to whisper a few words and tease his ear to make him like this.

"You know what I like about you?" Dick asked. Damian's heart skipped a beat. He heard a low laugh, "I mean, aside from that mouth of yours?"

Damian kept said mouth shut. He wanted to know. He didn't realize how badly he wanted to know.

"It's that I don't even have to see all of you to be wildly attracted to you."

Damian felt a swelling in his throat. It was like Dick had just captured his own words.

Damian's hold on Dick's wrist weakened. Dick continued with what he was doing. Damian listened as he heard the belt unbuckle, felt it as it released, falling to the ground. Dick's hand was pressed against his body, and Damian felt the folds of clothing hug his form as the hand lowered. The hand inched down his body, tantalizingly slow, lower and lower, finally pressing between his legs. Damian clenched his jaw, eyes closing shut, as Dick palmed him through his clothing.

Light kisses feathered against his skin, moving from his ear to his neck, tickling Damian's skin and leaving him shuddering. Dick's warm mouth latched onto the side of his throat, the sensation startling him. He moved but he was stuck between Dick's body and the hand that was rubbing against his clothed erection. A moan was caught in the back of his throat. Dick sucked harder on the skin.

He felt the other hand on his chest, moving. He looked down, with hazy fascination, as Dick's fingers slipped behind the top frog of his vest, pulling it undone with a pop. Dick did this to each and every one, achingly slow. The heel of his hand was still pressing against Damian's erection, rubbing over him. Damian's breath was growing shorter, heat racing throughout his body. His eyes slipped shut and he could hear the sound of his own breath, wavering and almost desperate. He wanted to ask Dick to go faster but some bit of his pride still held him back.

He could hear the drag of the zipper, felt his vest parting. Heard it, going and going, until it separated completely. He tensed when he felt Dick's hand go up underneath his shirt. The leather of his glove touched his skin, smooth. He shuddered as it trailed up his abdomen, tracing along the contours of his body. His breath sucked in as the hand passed over the sensitive flesh of his ribcage, up to his chest, pressing against his nipple.

Damian groaned, the sound more vocal this time. The sensation of the fabric rubbing against his chest, combined with the rest of Dick's ministrations, just felt like too much. He had one hand on the edge of a crate for balance, knees beginning to quiver as Dick continued to pay attention to his aching hard-on. The other hand was holding onto Dick's arm—not holding it hard enough to stop him from teasing his chest, but just enough to balance himself.

Dick pulled at Damian's nipple, the sensation sending electricity up his spine. Dick groaned in the crook of Damian's neck, the edge of his voice sounding like longing.

"I wish I could see your face. I bet you look so good right now."

Dick's hand rubbed up his erection before suddenly snaking its way down Damian's waistband. The hand slipped beneath his layers of clothing, cupping his erection. Damian cried out, face flushed. He was so worked up. He could feel how swollen his cock was, even before Dick could wrap his fingers around him.

The leather was so soft and smooth against his cock. But as Dick moved his hand, the heat began to feel irritating. Damian shook his head to himself.

"Feels weird," he breathed. He didn't even specify what—but Dick read his mind, removing his hands from Damian's body. Damian sighed, the sound almost mournful. In that moment of pause, Damian's body felt almost cold without Dick wrapped around him. He realized how strained his erection was, how much his heart was hammering. He readjusted his position so both feet were back on the ground, and just then he realized how weak his legs felt.

But then the hands were back, bare skin touching against his. He could feel the calluses of Dick's hands, rough but somehow nice, slipping underneath his clothing. The feel of flesh against flesh brought Damian impossibly higher, left him shivering and wanting. When Dick wrapped his hand around Damian's cock, Damian's head fell forward. He moaned almost pitifully as Dick stroked him at a leisurely pace.

Damian's skin felt so hot. The flush had spread from his chest to his neck to his ears to his face to behind his eyes. Somewhere, drowning in the desire, he wondered how Dick could do it. How he could bring him this much pleasure just by using his hands and his lips.

It was when the waistband of his pants began to slip down his hips that he began to return to his senses.

Damian grabbed Dick by the wrist, firmly stopping him. "Is this all a trick?" he said, annoyed.

"What?" Dick said dumbly.

"You're trying to take my clothes off," Damian said, frowning.

"Well, yeah," Dick said. Damian flinched and made an unintelligible noise when Dick gently squeezed his hand around his cock. "It's hard doing this in your clothes. My wrist hurts." His voice seemed to lower, almost sultry, "Don't you want me to keep going?"

Yes. "I don't know."

At that, the amusement in Dick's voice was gone. "Did I go too far?"

"No," Damian said at once, without thinking. Dick paused for a moment, no doubt trying to figure out what Damian wanted.

"I've been trying to get you alone for awhile," Dick confessed. At that, Damian was skeptical.

"When?" he said. But the moment he said it, his thoughts were already replaying the past few weeks. Just a few days ago, in fact, he had been invited to Dick's house—but had passed out right away, because he had been exhausted from patrol. It wasn't the first time Dick had tried to get him to come over—but they always hung out, so Damian never noticed anything odd.

"Since I noticed you checking me out," Dick said, sounding amused.

Damian's face flushed a little. He couldn't deny it.

The truth was that Damian had already been studying Dick's best attributes awhile ago, long before he had ever stepped into that safehouse.

"Although I never did catch you looking at my ass," Dick said, chuckling.

Damian's hand slid down from Dick's wrist to lay over his hand.

"Because this is what I wanted," Damian said, holding Dick's hand a little tighter. At that, Dick didn't laugh.

Damian allowed Dick to pull at his clothing, allowing his garments to be pulled past his hips to his mid-thigh area. Damian flushed as the skin was exposed to the air, the blush deepening as Dick's hand ran over the curve of his ass to the inside of his exposed thigh.

Dick's hands teased him, stroking and dragging across his flesh. Running over his erection without adding too much pressure. He did this, Damian sighing softly all the while, bringing Damian more and more pleasure. Dick's hand finally settled back on his ass, squeezing.

Damian heard movement, felt Dick bump into him as he moved around. Damian couldn't see what was going on and was afraid to turn around, in case he accidentally bumped into Dick. He finally rose an eyebrow in confusion, was going to demand to know what Dick was doing, but then Dick was holding onto his hips and was gently encouraging him to move forward a step.

Damian was pressed up against the crates. He waited with thick anticipation, trying to figure out Dick's plan. Finally, it made sense.

Damian felt the hot, wet drag of Dick's tongue along his hole. A noise caught in the back of Damian's throat, his eyes widening. He hadn't predicted this in the slightest, hadn't even imagined it. But when the cool air touched where Dick's tongue had been, he missed it. He wanted more of it.

Damian's hand clenched along the side of the crate. He wasn't sure how to react. Dick pressed a quick kiss to his tailbone before going back, thumbs spreading him apart, hot tongue pressing against him again. This time Damian reacted naturally, a moan escaping his lips.

Damian stood, legs spread in position, top half of his body holding onto the surface in front of him for support. His face was hot with both arousal and embarrassment—the whole situation was crude, and it was almost shameful how much he enjoyed it. They shouldn't have been doing this, but to do it in the middle of a mission in some crook's safehouse…

Obscene. And plain stupid.

Dick gripped onto him a little tighter, tongue massaging him in upwards strokes, feeling wet and rough. By the time Dick would have Damian sighing, he'd pull back, hands kneading his ass, closing in to maybe kiss or bite the flesh in a way that would have Damian jolting forward. It felt like Dick was teasing him, almost, using two different methods of pleasure that kept Damian teetering back and forth. It was almost frustrating.

"Do something," he said, voice sounding breathless, when Dick pulled back again. He wasn't even sure what he wanted or how to voice it. He heard Dick make a small, almost amused, noise.

Dick pressed forward, mouth sucking at his skin and producing lewd, wet noises, before finally pressing his tongue against his entrance.

Damian let himself fall forward, his upper half resting on the hard crate. His knees felt weak, he felt like his body was melting. He moaned softly as Dick pushed in his tongue, hot and wet against his hole. Moaned as the tip of Dick's tongue penetrated him, felt his cock twitch with excitement when Dick moaned too. Dick genuinely enjoyed what he was doing, enjoyed making Damian fall apart. Enjoyed making him squirm and pant for breath.

Dick pulled back again, this time his hand reaching up between Damian's legs and lightly rubbing against his erection. Damian cursed under his breath and he heard Dick give a short chuckle.

"You're so cute."

Dick rubbed him a little longer, until Damian was on the brink of begging him to stroke it, and then pulled away. Damian's arousal was so heated that he thought he could have finished at several points earlier that evening, but Dick kept teasing him.

Dick's hands returned to his cheeks, grip on his skin tightening until it felt almost bruising, as his tongue entered him more aggressively. More deeply. Damian liked it, like the way Dick held him in place as he fucked him with his tongue. Dick finally pulled back, relenting, and Damian missed it—moaning almost pitifully. But then Dick slid his finger inside, the digit curling in. Damian's head lifted, he cried out.

Dick immediately began thrusting his finger in. It slid in easily, again and again. After a moment, Dick's breath was back on his skin, and Damian felt his wet tongue alongside the finger inside of him. His breath was short, almost panting at this point, as Dick's finger moved inside of him. Thrusting, stretching. He started pushing back on it without realizing it. Dick hummed against his skin, seeming pleased. He pushed a second finger inside.

This time, Damian felt the stretch. Felt himself spreading open to accommodate Dick's fingers, and the intrusion felt strange. It was difficult to relax. Damian tried to get used to the feeling, tried to get used to Dick's digits inside of him—a little quicker, pushing all the way up to the knuckle.

Damian made a small keening noise. The ministrations no longer felt strange, started to feel good. Started to feel pleasurable. Damian forgot about where they were, forgot about in his inhibitions, just focused on the attention he was receiving.

As the third finger pressed in, and Damian began to feel full, his mind drifted. Images, fantasies, in his head. Dick's fingers were inside of him. Dick's tongue had been inside of him. Damian tried to imagine more, tried to imagine what it'd be like if Dick just stepped out of that suit and thrust his cock deep inside—tried to imagine how hot, how big, how hard, Dick would be inside of him.

He couldn't even see Dick. Just the thought of it was making him so goddamned hard.

Dick pushed in his fingers. Damian felt himself stretch open, wider and wider the deeper Dick went in, until he was knuckle deep. Damian shivered around the digits—and when Dick's fingers curled up against his prostate, he gave out a long, unfiltered cry.

Dick started fucking him in that spot repeatedly. He thrusted and twisted and his fingers, massaging the spot. Making him feel good. So good. He could hear the sounds of Dick's fingers sliding in and out of him, heard Dick's ragged breathing seeming to match his own. Damian pushed back wantonly, penetrating himself on Dick's fingers.

"You look so good, spread out like this. It feels like you're swallowing me inside of you," Dick breathed as he pushed in deep. His voice was husky. He sounded turned on. But he didn't bring up himself, he just kept fingering Damian's hole. Even would lean in to kiss and lick and suck the area where his fingers dug in.

Damian felt hot inside of his clothes, his face deeply flushed, he felt like something was trying to fight its way out of him. He felt the material of his uniform on his chest, remembered the way Dick had teased the skin, and wished he could just escape the confines of his clothes.

"I—"Damian started, but he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. Dick seemed to have read his mind.

"Touch yourself."

Damian didn't need to be told again. His hand reached for his erection, the soft material of the glove sliding against his erection. It reminded him of Dick from earlier, the material so similar to Dick's gloves that he could easily imagine that they were the same. His lips parted, openly moaning, as he held himself. The familiarity of his own hand and his control over his pace helped comfort him, helped bring him closer to the edge.

Dick's fingers did not relent, thrusting into him hard. The prodding against his prostate sent sparks of pleasure up his spine, racing through his body, and combined with his cock being stroked, Damian was easily pushed over the edge.

He cried out as he came, the sound long and almost mournful, and Dick's groan seemed to blend in with his voice. The feeling was so intense that Damian clenched his eyes shut, his eyes burning and on the edge of tears, as he climaxed.

After an awkward cleanup and eventually escaping the safehouse, Dick and Damian turned their commlinks back on to discover that Bruce and Barbara had already caught their bad guy awhile ago and that Jason and Tim had just escaped. As they moved to head back to the safehouse, Damian glanced up at Dick, who still acted so casual despite everything that had happened.

Something was bothering Damian a little bit. He felt nervous bringing it up but he asked anyways, "So do you still feel the same way?"

Dick looked back at him. He couldn't seem to guess what Damian's vague question meant. Damian considered dropping the conversation altogether but Dick pried, asking, "What do you mean?"

Damian's face burned. He wasn't going to say it out loud. His eyes shifted to the side. "Well, I mean, now you saw everybody's, so…"

It took Dick a moment to realize what Damian meant. He smiled at Damian in that wide, mischievous way.

Damian's heartbeat picked up again. He liked that smile, too.

But then Dick said:

"Might still be Tim's, actually."

Sudden heat rushed to Damian's face. He punched Dick in the arm. Dick just burst out laughing.

Damian was ready to storm off—he berated himself for being so stupid, falling for Dick's seduction techniques when he clearly thought the whole thing was a joke. But Dick wrapped his arm around Damian's shoulders, pulling him back in.

"Then again, it was pretty dark in there. Maybe you need to show me again?" Dick murmured against his ear.

Damian dared to glance over at Dick, who still had that sly look on his face. The words slipped out of his mouth, bolder than he expected, "There are still parts of you that I haven't seen yet either."

That time, it was Dick's turn to look embarrassed.