Archive of Our Own ^beta

“THE BLOOD OF THE BAT SHALL BATHE ALL OF GOTHAM. IN THE WAVE OF RED WE SHALL STAND TRIUMPHA—hhk.”

Diana finishes tying Red Hood with her rope, crisscrossing his mask several times, trapping his mouth shut. Jason screeches and writhes on the table, straining at his bindings. They had finally managed to drag Jason back to one of Bruce’s safehouses, securing him so that he could no longer lash out. The Red Hood looks pretty worse for wear—his clothing is torn, practically shredded really, his mask is melded to his face, his mouth opening into a maw of sharp fangs and flailing tongue. He thrashes about, trying with all his inhuman might to break free of Diana’s rope, tearing at it with his claws, but it is impossible.

“So what do we do?” Clark steps towards Jason and sighs, one hand on the man’s chest, holding him completely still with seemingly no effort. “We can’t just leave him here while we hunt down the others affected like this.”

“Big Blue’s right,” Constantine grabs a cigarette from his pocket and lights it before taking a long drag. “We need to exorcise whatever’s crawled up inside him and hasn’t died yet.”

“So do it.” Bruce’s voice is rough and low with a palpable tension.

“Yes Constantine, what must be done?” Diana yanks at the ropes, pulling Jason harder against the table he’s tied on.

“The way I see it, we have a pretty by the book possession here, and someone’s gonna need to watch over this git once I’m finished, on my end anyway.”

“What do you mean finished on your end?” Bruce turns to Constantine, gaze cold. “No tricks here, what has to be done?”

“Just your average exorcism, won’t take long. This sod doesn’t seem like any of the big players, ought to be quick to pop him out. It’s just...”

“Just what, Constantine?” Clark puts his hand on Bruce’s shoulder. He knows how much Jason means to him.

“Well, it’s an incubus.” Constantine rubs the back of his head as he puffs out more smoke. “Nothing to worry about. Just takes a skilled hand to deal with. Or other parts.” He snorts.

“Speak. Clearly.” Bruce grits out. Clark gives him a light squeeze.

“Bruce needs you to spell it out for us, please.” Clark shoots Constantine a soft look, as if apologizing.

“He needs to get a bell end up the arsehole.”

Clark pinches the bridge of his nose. “Want to translate that, John?”

“He needs to ah, make love. With someone who truly cares for him.” Constantine takes a very slow drag off his cigarette, curling the smoke out through his nose before continuing. “You know you know, magic mumbo jumbo. Gotta complete the ritual and all that. Doesn’t have to be a big deal. He got a special bird or something?”

Several moments of total silence pass. Eventually, Bruce steps a bit away and reaches up to activate his commlink. There’s a soft, muffled “Batman? What is it?” on the other line of whoever Bruce is calling. He exhales slowly, and speaks.
“Nightwing? We need you here right away, I can send you the coordinates. It’s--- it’s Jason…”
Something like a frantic “I’m on my way” rumbles through Bruce’s commlink and three sets of eyes fall on a very mortified looking Batman.

Dick busts in through the open window of the safehouse in full Nightwing regalia, barely catching his breath before launching himself at Bruce, flipping over and landing completely soundless.

“Where is he? What’s happening? Oracle said there’d been a brawl with him but that—” Dick stops short at the sight of Jason tied to the table, still thrashing about beneath Diana’s rope. “Uh…. What’s going on here?”

“Jason’s been compromised.” Bruce speaks flatly, “He requires… specific assistance to overcome his, ahem.” Bruce falters, something so rare that Dick sucks in a breath. Bruce glances back at Clark, who offers a reassuring nod. Diana tightens her rope a bit, which seems to get Jason more settled against the table. She too offers a nod. Dick gawks at the sight of Batman flummoxed.

“You need to fuck him.” Constantine offers helpfully, leaning against a nearby doorframe. “Poor young lad’s gone and got himself possessed by an incubus and needs someone to roger it out of him.”

Dick, to his credit, looks shocked for all of three seconds before regaining his composure, standing up straight, and turning to Bruce.
“So like Ivy’s toxins?” Dick gives Bruce a grin that on anyone else would be completely lurid, but somehow Dick makes it charming. “Something to work it out of his system when there’s no antidote.”

Bruce releases the tension he has been holding in his shoulders ever since Constantine said the words “bell end.” When he next speaks, he’s all Batman.
“Yes. Precisely. I knew you would understand the delicate nature of the situation.” Bruce is still speaking through gritted teeth, though it’s obvious he is trying to seem collected with every fiber of his being.

Dick turns his attention to Jason, still tied to the table. He’s no longer writhing or thrashing beneath Diana’s rope, but he definitely looks pissed off. Each rise and fall of his chest is accompanied by a ragged breath that sounds more akin to a howl. His mask is all teeth, melded to his face through whatever arcane magics fuel the incubus possessing him. The eyes of the mask, Jason’s eyes now, glow like hot embers.

Dick’s had worse nights.

“We should move this to the bedroom. For practicality.” Dick tries to sound as professional as possible, but his lips still quirk a bit as he speaks.

“Pretty bird is right,” Constantine saunters over to Diana. “Would you be a dear and tie him to a chair in the other room, love? Then I can get this party started.”

“If you can be a dear and never speak to me in that tone again, if you value your life, John Constantine.” Diana’s voice is hard and sharp, like the edge of her blade. Constantine visibly blushes and backs up several paces towards the door.

“Righty-o, I’ll just fuck off then.” He makes his way into the bedroom, whistling to himself, his stance a bit wider than necessary.
Diana follows, dragging the entire table Jason is tied to behind her, one handed.

A bit later, Constantine finishes up whatever his end of the ritual is and shuts the door to the bedroom behind him. Clark and Bruce had exchanged looks when they heard some screaming, but it was only for a moment, and Diana had reassuringly reminded them that Jason was now restrained by her rope to a chair. A few flashes of light and some ominous chanting, and Constantine had slipped out of the bedroom. There’s a faint scent of brimstone on the air, and Constantine’s trench coat appears to be steaming a bit.

“Well that’s the easy part done,” Constantine fishes around in his pocket, retrieving a final, crumpled cigarette. He slips it into his mouth and mumbles around it, unlit. “Now’s the ah, hard part I suppose.” Lighting his cigarette with a chuckle, he takes a showy bow and looks up at Dick. “Your prince charming awaits.”

Clark moves beside Bruce, into his personal bubble. “Maybe we should give them some privacy?” Clark winces a bit, as soon as the words are out of his mouth. He knows Bruce will want to keep watch.

To his surprise, Bruce turns and starts making his way towards the exit, cape fluttering behind him after such a sharp movement. Bruce motions for everyone to follow, and as soon as Clark catches up to him, he speaks in a hushed voice. “I trust Dick to take care of things I’d prefer to have no part of, but if you wouldn’t mind…” Bruce’s gaze flickers away for just a moment, but Clark catches his meaning.
“I’ll keep an ear on them, but uh, not too closely.” Clark blushes and puts his hand on Bruce’s waist as they leave.

Jason sits in a chair next to the bed, his body bound by Diana’s rope.

“If I untie you, will you be good?”

The demon that is Jason turns its head to look at him appraisingly. Dick takes a step closer and for it, Jason nods.

With little fanfare, Dick unzips his costume and slips out of it and his underclothes. He stands before Jason naked, arms open, offering himself up like…. Well he tries not to think like a lamb to slaughter. He approaches slowly.

Dick’s hands come up to Jason’s face, the smooth shell of his mask. He traces his fingers along the edges of Jason’s fanged mouth. The mask is warm, almost like flesh. So, so inhuman. He presses a kiss at the edge of his mouth, Jason’s fangs just grazing Dick’s soft lips. The sensation sends a ripple down Dick’s spine, one he can’t quite figure out. Fear? Lust? A little of both?

“I love you little wing.” Dick’s voice is calm, and the whining snarl in Jason bleeds away, leaving only Jason’s labored breathing. For a moment, the glow in his eyes seems to dim. Dick unties Jason quickly, letting Diana’s rope pool at his feet. “I trust you.”

“I-I won’t hurt you,” Jason’s voice is quiet and his own. He reaches up with a clawed hand, brushes a lock of hair off of Dick’s brow. He turns away, and a lurid smile spreads across the horrific fangs of his mask. The growl returns to Jason’s words as he stands. Jason steps right in front of Dick and snarls out “But we’re going to have a lot of fun before I’m through with this mortal’s form.”

Before Dick can respond, Jason grabs him and tosses him onto the bed. Jason is already strong, physically stronger than Dick at the best of times, but now his strength is immeasurable. Dick’s tangled with his fair share of metas in his day, so he rolls with it, literally, and tumbles onto the bed with some amount of grace.

The way Jason makes it over to the bed can only be described as predatory. He prowls over to Dick and pushes him down, laying him flat on his back. Jason leans in and rakes a claw up Dick’s hardening length.

“You like this don’t you.” Jason’s voice rises and falls, like a dark tide ready to bubble over. “You like giving yourself up to such a beast.”

Dick whines and turns away, his hair falling over his eyes. Jason leans in and sucks a dark bruise to Dick’s collarbone before biting his way down to his navel. Dick writhes beneath him.

“You smell delicious.” Jason laves his tongue across Dick’s abdomen. With wide eyes, Dick watches as Jason’s tongue extends out of his mouth to a completely inhuman degree. More and more it spills out, lapping at his body. “I bet you taste absolutely divine.” The demon laughs, and Dick thinks of crackling fire, of bodies burning. He trembles.

Jason rakes his sharp talons down Dick’s body and before Dick can even register what’s happening, he’s being flipped onto his stomach, pushed up onto his hands and knees by strong, clawed hands.

Jason’s tongue extends further, impossibly long and thick, tapering to a sharp point. Dick moans as he feels the wet drag of it between his cheeks. Jason’s claws dig into the meat of his ass, spreading him. The impossibly long tongue drags across Dick’s hole slowly, achingly slowly, seemingly going on forever. The tip of Jason’s pulsing muscle flicks against his hole and dips in, just slightly, before recoiling back into its owner’s fanged maw.

Jason’s voice is rough, almost garbled, like several voices overlapping. “I’ll eat you up, I love you so.”

Dick whimpers, burying his face in his arms. He can feel Jason’s tongue pressing into him again, deeper and longer than anything has ever reached inside. He feels hot, impossibly hot—Jason feels like he is burning behind him, heat pouring off his body like hot asphalt. Jason thrusts his tongue like he would a cock, pounding into Dick.

“Nnngh—Jason. Jason please…”

Jason seems to like that Dick is saying his name, as the demon does something behind him that pulls the long tongue back then thrusts forward as it twists inside like a drill, writhing harshly right against Dick’s prostate. Dick sucks in a breath. For a moment, there’s no noise other than the wet squelch of Jason’s drool pooling out around the edges of Dick’s hole with every thrust of Jason’s thick tongue. Then Dick screams, tries to muffle it into the crook of his arm, and he’s coming, shaking with every thrust of the twisting muscle, feeling it drag over his prostate over and over. He can hardly hold himself up and lets himself sag, caught by Jason’s clawed hand on his abs. The tongue is unrelenting and Dick screams again, arms shooting out. He scrabbles at the bed beneath him, finds no purchase as Jason loops his arms around his thighs, hauling him back towards his fanged mask.

“Jason I can’t…. c’mon babe, please.” Dick says please in the exact opposite way he did earlier. Instead of panting need it’s all whining plead. For it, Jason complies. The long, slimy tongue slips back behind Jason’s fangs. Dick exhales a shaky breath and collapses against the mattress as Jason moves off the bed.

Jason steps out of the remainder of his clothes, tearing at them impatiently with his claws. His body for the most part looks normal, though it’s definitely a few shades darker than usual, imbued with an otherworldly red tint. The bright red of Jason’s mask bleeds right into his body, fading with a surreal ombre. Dick lets his eyes slide across his lover’s body, appreciating that even in this frenzied, possessed state, Jason was one tall drink of water. That is, until Dick lets his eyes rest between Jason’s legs.

Dick doesn’t even look surprised. Of course Jason has a demonic tentacle penis. Of course he does. It’s just that kind of day. It’s at least twice as thick as his normal shaft, tapering at least 11” to a thrashing, pointed end not unlike Jason’s tongue had been. Dick swallows thickly. Maybe 11.5 inches. Dick doesn’t want to think about even half an inch more.

“If you lay back I’ll ride you.” Dick sounds confident, well skilled in false bravado.

Jason makes a choking noise, like this was the last thing the demon expected. He complies immediately though, throwing himself back on the bed, eyeing Dick with a deep hunger.

Dick climbs over the possessed man, shaking a bit as he lines his wet, already abused hole, with the tip of Jason’s otherworldly cock. Jason’s demonic hands grip his thighs, his claws digging into his flesh. It’s obvious that Jason is using every ounce of his strength not to just dive right up into Dick’s body. Dick knew his man was in there.

“Ok I’m ready.” Dick presses back, lets Jason breech him. The feeling is not that different than Jason’s tongue had been, though twice the girth. Dick feels stretched, so impossibly stretched, and so so full and Jason was nowhere close to fully seating himself.

“Holy shit holy shit hang on.” Dick babbles as he eases himself back onto Jason’s length.

Jason’s resolve breaks. He grabs Dick by the arms, holding both his wrists in one clawed hand. He yanks Dick’s arms behind him and thrusts upwards, starting to piston inside him, not quite pushing more than halfway in.

“You will take it.” Jason says, voice rumbling through Dick’s body, and it is not a request. He thrusts upwards again, this time pushing more than three quarters into Dick. Dick keens. Jason starts fucking him at a pace that is unrelenting, his thick cock plunging upwards, deeper and deeper with every gyration.

Tears stream down Dick’s face. He’s never felt so full in his life. He feels like he can taste Jason. He feels punch drunk, woozy, hanging on for dear life as Jason holds him in place with demonic strength.

“Jason I love you so much, fuck I love you. Come back to me babe.” Dick looks down at Jason, at the fiendish mix of man and mask. He hears a short gasp from the man below him, something more akin to what Jason would usually make in bed. “I know you’re there Jaybird.”

Jason hisses.

Dick bounces up, feels the tentacle inside him stretch upwards, chasing his body, trying to work all of itself inside him. He circles his hips and grinds down onto the firm slick of Jason’s demonic cock. The sounds they are making are obscene—the slap of skin on skin, the inhuman gasps from Jason, mumbled words in languages not to be known by human minds, and the slick slide of Jason’s length in and out of Dick’s body. Dick feels so full, so goddamn full. The way Jason pulses inside of him feels insane, feels like it’s raking the very insides of Dick’s body, driving him mad. Dick feels like he’s burning up from within. Sweat drips down his spine, and he feels dizzy with arousal. He shudders as Jason presses upwards, thrusting his whole length into the other man’s lithe frame.

“I’m going to fill you up so deep you’ll taste me forever.” Jason sneers, voices overlapping, mixing with laughter. His cock twists inside Dick, pressing down on his prostate, has him keening. Jason lets go of his wrists and moves his hands to Dick’s thighs, smacking one harshly, drawing a moan from Dick. He scrambles to hold onto Jason’s broad shoulders, to give himself any leverage against the onslaught of his possessed length.

Dick comes again with ragged gasp, the room spinning. The edges of his vision go blurry and then white, and then he floats, sinking into nothingness. Sinking into bliss as Jason continues to pound away.

Dick wakes first. He blinks to consciousness slowly, trying to take in his surroundings and remember why they’re so unfamiliar. His body feels heavy, bruised, like after a night of rough fighting. A grey, hazy light filters into the room through tattered curtains. It’s early. Jason’s helmet rests on the table beside the bed, once more solid and whole, and separate. Jason.

Dick sits up and regards the form asleep beside him in the bed. Jason is sprawled out, one leg hooked over Dick’s, the other quirked beneath him as he sleeps on his side facing away from him. His hair is mussed and he’s twisted up in the thin bedsheets, hogging them all to his body the way he usually does with blankets.

“There’s my little wing.” Dick says softly, letting his hand settle in Jason’s hair. He combs his fingers through the white streak. Jason’s skin feels soft and warm to the touch.

“Mmmm good morning Dickiebird.” Jason rolls onto his back and looks up at Dick with a slow grin. “We have a good time last night? I can’t seem to remember.” Jason rubs at his eyes, clearly bemused at waking up naked alongside Dick unaware of his surroundings. He catches sight of the line of dark purple bruises down Dick’s neck. And shoulders. And chest. And hips. And….

“You certainly did.” Dick says sternly, but there’s no real anger behind it. Dick looks completely debauched—bruises blossom across his whole body, love bites and claw marks abound, and one very noticeable handprint on his thigh that tapers into pointed claws.

“Uh…. What’s going on?” Jason sits up, looks down at his own body littered with only the same familiar scars. “Why do you look like you got into a fight with a very sexy mountain lion and lost terribly?”

“You were possessed by a sex demon and I had to fuck it out of you.” Dick says casually, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“Oh is that all.”

“Clark, Diana and Bruce brought you in, and then Constantine had to—”

Jason looks weary and holds up a hand. “I absolutely do not fucking care.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I could smoke fifty cigarettes.”

“Well I don’t have any on me and you lost your jacket sometime back being possessed.”

Jason fumbles around on the nightstand for his helmet and reaches in, retrieving a very rumpled cigarette.

“Do you always keep a smoke in your helmet?”

Jason ignores him. “Do you have a light?”

“No.”

“Well fuck me.”

Dick laughs, deep throated and loud, his voice echoing in the sparsely furnished room.

“We’ve done plenty of that Jay.”

“Shame I don’t remember.” Jason drops the cigarette and leans into Dick’s neck, trailing a few kisses down to his clavicle. “Maybe you can jog my memory. Gimme a play by play.”

“Not without a foot long tentacle dick.”

Jason bolts upright.

“A FOOT LONG WHAT!?”

Dick laughs again, this time he leans against Jason, mouthing his amusement into the other man’s skin.

“Your tongue was no slouch either.” Dick grins garishly, waggling his tongue at Jason.

“I feel like I need to go to goddamn church.”

“You’d burst into flames first.”

“Good then I could light my fucking smoke.”

Dick pulls Jason to his chest. He combs his fingers through the younger man’s hair as he settles against him.

“I fucking hate magic. I feel like I have twenty hangovers.”

“Go back to sleep, and when you’re feeling up to it, we can go back to my place and I’ll order us a big breakfast.”

“Mmm, that sounds nice,” Jason’s voice is soft, like he’s already drifting back asleep. He burrows his face against Dick’s chest and huffs out a sleepy breath. “Dick?”

“Hmm?”

“Do I have any clothes here?”

Dick glances at the pile of discarded clothes, at Jason’s shredded tactical pants.

“You have enough.”

Jason stretches out and yawns, settles down completely against Dick’s body.

“Sounds like a future us problem.”

Dick kisses the top of Jason’s head as he feels the other man’s breath even out against his skin.
“Sure does little wing.”