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thejusticelounge2012-08-03 12:22 pm
bossymarmalade) wrote in thejusticelounge2012-08-03 12:22 pm
feathers for fletching
If there was anything good about the Dark Knight ban on outsiders entering Gotham, at all, Ollie was starting to think it was that now his favourite people tended to come to his beloved Star City a lot more.
He could have met Dick in Bludhaven, but they’d both tacitly avoided suggesting there as a meeting ground. It was still too close to Gotham, and it was too close to … other complications. So instead they’d met up in the bustle of the Starborside Quay and filled a leisurely lunchtime with the kind of affable, looping chatter that both of them enjoyed so much and could perform without the least bit of effort. Dick’s company always had been a pleasure, even when he’d been a tiny, excited parakeet of a child, eager to copy anything the grownups were doing. And as he’d gotten older, he seemed to become more and more a delight to be around, something accepted as general consensus even among the most sharp-tongued of Leaguers.
You talked to Dick and there was something about him — the compelling familiarity of his laugh, the absolute candor of his blue eyes, the stain of sadness that made his compassion so palpable — that left a person feeling like they’d just met the *one* guy in the entire world who’d think they were lovable no matter what.
“I’m glad you could come down and hang with me, Dick,” Ollie said as they ambled along the quayside post-meal. All the little shops were open to greet the spring sunshine and spring customers, rainbow pinwheels and gelato and handmade jewelry and bunches of flowers arrayed everywhere.
They diverged around an enormous doublewide stroller (both making faces at the twins inside, whose brown button noses crinkled identically in joy) and came back together on the other side as Ollie continued, “—us being the two guys in the League who can commiserate with each others’ particular romantical situations, and all.” He glanced at Dick and grinned, “Aaaand also with my son and granddaughter living with you. And us both being banned from Gotham. Too much common ground there not to want to touch base outside of the Tower, y’know?”
Dick laughed heartily, invigorated from the air, the company, or possibly a combination of the two. He casually linked their arms, falling into step with Ollie.
“Seriously. We’ve got way too much in common to stay apart.” He smiled at a passing boy who stared, wide-eyed, and tugged on his mother’s shirt at the strange men. Giggling, Dick leaned into Ollie.
“Besides, we’re not the ones with the blood feud.”
Ollie snorted at that. “Hopefully it won’t all come down to pistols at dawn or melodramatic stabbings,” he intoned dryly. It was nice having Dick this close, and although in lots of other places he’d have to be more careful about being seen with Bruce Wayne-spawned arm candy clinging to him, this was Star City. They’d long become accustomed to the idiosyncrasies of the lone scion of the Queen family.
Besides, it wasn’t like they were smooching in front of the centre plaza fountain.
“So how complicated *are* things on the broody side of the family, anyhow?” he asked. It was a big subject, but Ollie figured Dick might want an opportunity to talk about it. He seemed to always be serving as the appointed Batclan disaster wrangler, putting out fires and offering comfort, but Ollie wasn’t sure how much Dick dealt with his *own* needs.
… er, not the sexual ones. Dick had no problems in that area, Ollie could bank on *that*.
“Oh, they’re…y’know…” Dick smiled at Ollie sheepishly. ”Y’know…. They’re just… Bruce is brooding off to himself. Jason’s always fighting with me or clinging to me. Tim’s…keeping himself sane by avoiding it all, although he’s been working a lot more at everything, so it’s a lose-lose, really. I haven’t talked to the girls much, since they’re all off on their thing. Damian…”
Dick sighed and stopped to look in a store window, resting his head on Ollie’s shoulder. ”Damian’s getting better. I think he’s finally starting to figure out a place he can fit in with us and stuff. And he’s been behaving more. Well, more often than not, I guess.”
“So basically what you’re telling me is that it’s business as usual.” Ollie smiled at Dick’s reflection in the window to take any sting out of the words. “Which isn’t a bad thing, really, more like an all-clear. Nothing out of the ordinary roiling under the surface.”
They strolled further around the central plaza, coming to a stop to watch a bunch of children and parents cavorting with bubble wands around two young women who were making some kind of sales pitch to people and handing them out. “It’s good that Damian’s starting to settle in,” Ollie said. “Must be hard for him being up there among all the adults, and even the kids are significantly older than he is. I’m not surprised he was so determined to prove his autonomy, even if it meant amplifying the broody imperiousness. I’m glad he’s starting to realize that he belongs there and doesn’t need to keep everybody at arms’ length. His father could stand to learn that lesson himself.”
The two young women bounced over, and the one holding the clipboard and donation pail chirped, “Wanna play with some bubbles? We’re taking donations for a clean water initiative to built tube wells in rural Maharashtra!”
Ollie was already taking out his wallet. The girl clutching the bubble wands held one out, iridescent with soap, and Ollie nodded over to Dick as he dropped money into the bucket. “See if he wants it,” he said, amused. “Much more graceful with bubbles than I am.”
Dick smiled broadly at the girl holding the bubble wand, taking it with a “Thank you!” and a brush of hands that left her blushing. Dick looked around, trying to gauge where the most effective use of this bubble would be. Careful not to pop the soap, he held it up at Ollie, who was smiling and listening to the other woman’s explanation. Ollie side-eyed him, fighting a smirk as he turned to face him. Dick blew slowly on the wand, the bubble growing larger and larger toward Ollie until it finally popped, flinging tiny specks of bubble soap at him.
Dick handed the wand back to the woman, thanking her for it and, no, it’s completely fine, let some other kid have it, it’s fine! He linked his arm with Ollie’s again and continued their meandering, laughing heartily.
“You’re lucky you’re still so cute,” Ollie grinned, wiping soap spackle from his nose. “Y’know, the rest of us had kind of this unspoken thing? We all thought it must be pretty hard on you being raised by Gloomy Gus — bright little spark like you, especially — so all of your Justice League aunties and uncles tried to indulge you however we could.”
Dick really *had* been adorable back then, and no mistake; smart as a whip, faster than a sparrow, more cheerful than the spring. They’d all thought he was a complete joy to have around.
—That, as a matter of fact, *hadn’t* changed a bit. It was only that now, Dick had grown from a universally adored child to an undeniably gorgeous young man; his awareness of the strength and appeal of his acrobatic body, paired with the total lack of arrogance or self-consciousness about same, made him hard to resist.
And Ollie’d never been all that good at resistance, anyhow.
“Howzabout we go get a drink somewhere quieter?” he suggested. “There’s a hotel just over yonder where Queen Industries keeps a couple of suites for putting up out-of-town investors. The kind of thing I’m sure the Son of Wayne is more than familiar with.”
“Aw, did you? Is that why Bruce always said I was spoiled…” Dick laughed, momentarily distracted by a mockingbird chasing a crow. He cheered for the mockingbird, yelling up encouraging fighting words as it flew. He glanced back at Ollie and blushed slightly, looking just like the little sidekick he used to be. He perked up at Ollie’s words.
“Oh, really? Well, isn’t that nifty and convenient.” He ran his teeth over his bottom lip as he smiled. ”Just how many of these secret suites do you think I frequent, Mr. Queen?” His devilish smile lost some of its wickedness when he crinkled his nose at Ollie, but the mischievous spark in his eyes didn’t leave.
“I think quiet drinks sound lovely.”
The hotel was a very quick hustle in the other direction from the main Quay promenade, the staff didn’t bat an eyelash at Ollie sweeping in unannounced with Richard Grayson, and in no time at all they were in an elevator climbing the floors up to the QI suites. They stood very politely in the elevator, Dick at some sort of decorative at-ease with his hands behind his back and relaxed, elegant shoulders.
Ollie reached out to tap the floor selection panel. “No thirteen,” he said. “In some hotels they just mis-number the thirteenth floor as fourteen, and in some they call it by a different name. Some of ‘em just use the thirteenth as a mechanical room that’s only accessible by a freight elevator. The most awkward one is when they call it 12A or something like that. I haven’t bothered finding out which one’s the case for this hotel.”
Glancing over at Dick, Ollie found that the kid was actually looking *interested* in all this bullshit, blue eyes alert and that customary slight smile on his face. And if he wasn’t actually interested, he was very good at faking it in order to be pleasant company. But Ollie wasn’t that interested in being polite company for Dick to be on pleasant good behaviour for.
“At any rate,” he said, turning, and pushed Dick’s shoulder against the wall of the elevator, holding Dick there for Ollie to lean in and kiss him.
Ollie had been rattling on about something about not having thirteen floors—a common superstition among hotels, his mind reminded him, running through a couple Twilight Zone-esque scenarios about the unlucky floor—and he’d kept smiling. He was more interested in the fact that Ollie was talking to him than what he was actually saying. He liked the way his mouth moved, the slight twitch of his mustache when he smirked. His eyes jumped to Ollie’s as he pushed him against the wall.
The kiss sent a jolt of electricity down his spine, just like in the arboretum. He moaned happily, kneading Ollie’s shoulders to pull him closer. He let Ollie’s weight push him into the wall, perfectly content to just stay comfortable there. Ollie licked at the inside of his teeth, and he swore he heard bells.
Then the door slid open.
They both looked at the hallway, and Dick giggled. ”Well, at least no one was there, right?”
“At the very least,” Ollie said, grinning, and pointed up at the ceiling of the elevator. “Wave hi to the camera, bluebird.”
Dick instinctively did as he was told, then looked over at Ollie, eyes big. Ollie laughed, pulling him out of the elevator and down the hall, fishing out the room key from his pocket. “Don’t worry, kid — no chance of us ending up on Perez Hilton for this. Security lady is under standing orders to burn any tape of Mr. Queen’s private comings and goings.”
He got the door open and grabbed Dick around the waist, hoisting him up and throwing the young man over his shoulder to carry inside the suite. The whole maneuver went off like they’d planned it, Dick responded so naturally to any sort of physicality; he went over Ollie’s shoulder with a joyous laugh, then when Ollie tossed him down on the chaise in the sitting area, Dick landed as though it was a pro dismount.
Pulling off his tie (and hadn’t wearing a suit to this lunch been a leetle bit calculating, because Ollie hadn’t *planned* on getting Dick on his back but hell, he knew his audience and how to stack the deck), Ollie kneeled over Dick on the chaise and watched as those blue eyes got darker, needier. “Ahhhhh, pretty boy,” he murmured. “What am I gonna do with *you*.”
Dick wouldn’t lie. Seeing Ollie in a suit had done things to him all day. Being thrown over a shoulder, tossed on a chaise, the dramatic removal of the tie… *oh* Dick was in heaven. He moaned slightly as Ollie leaned over him, shifting and rocking upwards just slightly. Just so he’d *know*.
“I dunno….” He nibbled his lip and grinned. ”I’ll bet there are a *lot* of things you can do with me. We didn’t get to everything in the arboretum…..”
“We barely even scratched the surface, you could fairly say.” Ollie braced his hands against the headrest of the chaise, bracketing Dick, confining him as he leaned down for a kiss. Dick was wiggly, raising himself off the couch, so Ollie slanted his legs and hips heavily across him to pin him down. “You need to stay still,” Ollie said, putting some steel into his voice.
— And oh la, that set off the match, because Dick instantly went stock-still beneath him. Ollie smirked. He moved one hand down, dragging his fingers across Dick’s open mouth, pushing his index and middle finger into all that hot, eager wetness. “Suck them good,” he said, slowly fucking Dick’s mouth with his fingers, leaning in to bite the corner of Dick’s mouth hard as he used his thumb to hold Dick’s jaw steady.
Dick’s lips already felt swollen under Ollie’s teeth. He licked the spot he’d bitten, pushing his fingers in deeper, digging his thumb into Dick’s throat until he heard the choked noise he’d been waiting for. It didn’t seem to stop Dick from sucking on Ollie’s fingers.
“Atta boy,” Ollie murmured. “If you need something to do — and I’m thinking you might, right about now — you can undo my shirt.”
Dick sucked hard on Ollie’s fingers, moaning from the need to move. But he wouldn’t! Not until Ollie told him he—ohyesthankgod.
He clawed at Ollie’s shirt, torn between the urge to just rip it off and take it off slowly. Slow would give him more time to move, but then Ollie might be cross with him. He took it off as fast as he could do it neatly, rubbing the firm skin underneath. Ollie pushed his fingers farther into Dick’s mouth in warning and Dick reluctantly put his hands down at his sides.
Dick pushed toward Ollie’s mouth, moaning at him for more, pursing his lips around Ollie’s fingers to make the point.
“Easy now, little bird. I’m not gonna leave you in the lurch — or make you wait too long.”
Ollie scooped Dick forward, pulling his shirt off, then let him lie back and raise his hips helpfully as Ollie rustled him easily out of pants and underwear too. It was a remarkably swift procedure with a partner as flexible and willing as Dick was. Ollie smoothed his hands up Dick’s flanks, feeling the taut muscles of his thighs, and pressed the heel of one hand against Dick’s hip as he he continued running his other hand up Dick’s side, across his flat stomach, up to one dark nipple.
His still-damp fingers were chilly against Dick’s skin, and the flesh of his nipple pebbled under Ollie’s touch. “So fucking ready for it, aren’t you?” he said, first thumbing across Dick’s nipple, then giving him a firm pinch. “Good thing I like ‘em a little sluttish, sweetheart.”
Ollie nosed in for a kiss, smiling against Dick’s mouth; he reached down to the side of the chaise and snagged his tie from the floor. Still close enough to brush noses with Dick, he brought the tie up and wrapped it around Dick’s eyes, tying it off securely behind his dark head. One more kiss, licking at Dick’s teeth, and Ollie pulled back. He sat up and just watched, for a moment, as Dick’s finely-honed senses kicked instantly into effect and he responded to every little sound or movement or shift in air current. It was a beautiful thing. Maybe a little specialized to their line of work, but that was no detraction from how much Ollie enjoyed watching Dick adjust to being blindfolded.
“Compensate for having your vision compromised, Dick,” Ollie said, letting the words growl deep in his throat, a headily warm thrum. He waited a moment, silence settling again, then deliberately, slowly, undid his belt buckle.
Dick shivered as Ollie ran his hands over him, fighting the urge to reach back and touch him. Ollie’d told him to stay still, so he was staying still. He gasped as the blindfold was tied, smiling unconsciously. His body tingled, as it registered the change. He was always sensitive to the slightest touch, but now….
He couldn’t stop the moan that escaped him as his body reacted to everything, mapping out the room. Ollie’s voice sent a shiver through him and he had to force himself to calm down. He relaxed in the silence, listening to every creak of the springs and movement from the room below. Even swallowing was loud in his ears. He held his breath in anticipation, waiting for Ollie to do…something. *Anything.*
And then he heard it.
Dick groaned, arching through the shock of pleasure that rolls through his body straight down to his groin. He wanted to touch, wants to feel, wants to *see*, even without his eyes. He whined and writhed on the chaise, sending all his focus into not grabbing at Ollie, at trying to keep still.
“I’m ready,” he whispered, his voice already dark and husky with need. ”I’m *so* fucking ready…..”
It was nothing short of fascinating to watch Dick struggling against Ollie’s careless edict on keeping still; he kept moving in fluid, mesmerizing shifts that made his lovely muscles ripple under his skin. Ollie’d never seen anything quite like it, and his cock was hard as fuck at the thought of what it would be like inside of Dick’s gorgeous, hungry body.
Holding his doubled-up belt in one hand, Ollie took hold of Dick and flipped him over, rearranging him brusquely to suit his needs: collarbones pressed against the raised headrest of the chaise, knees pushed under him, ass high in the air. “Spread your legs,” Ollie ordered, and Dick readjusted without a moment’s loss, complying to an almost egregious degree.
“Very nice,” Ollie said, taking a moment to tend to himself, leaving his own clothes mostly on. “When I’m done taking the edge off here,” he informed Dick, “I think I’m gonna fuck you up against the wall with your ankles on my shoulders. If you’re very good, I’ll even let you take the blindfold off and move around some.”
Dick would be good. Of course he would. Ollie had no doubts on that count. “Put your hands behind your back, precious,” Ollie said. He gathered up Dick’s hands, letting the kid grasp at his fingers for a while, and then tied his belt around Dick’s wrists in a tight knot. Easy enough to get out of, if Dick even half thought about it. But Ollie was betting that Dick had no interest in escape.
Slicking his cock up, Ollie then rubbed some more lube over Dick’s hole and pushed one finger in, barely waiting before adding another. God, Dick was just so … accepting, and scorching silky hot inside, and Ollie’s cock jumped impatiently as he scissored his fingers into Dick’s body.
Dick whined as Ollie told him what he was planning, so matter-of-fact about it all. The belt around his wrists was solid and tight, perfect for grounding when things got too intense. He could still feel every crease in the leather, slipping his fingers along as much of it as he could reach.
He gasped as Ollie fingered him, relaxing and tensing rhythmically around him. He arched up ever so slightly, unconsciously, and Ollie stopped moving, enjoying Dick’s dilemma. Dick settled back into the chaise and Ollie started thrusting again, adding another finger easily. Dick curled down and groaned into the fabric.
“More,” he half-growled, half-pleaded. ”More….”
“Easy there,” Ollie murmured, although whether he was talking to himself or Dick or both he wasn’t sure — the head of his cock pushed into Dick with only the slightest of resistance, and the instant pressure made him want to slam in deep in one go. But that wouldn’t be any fun, not just yet; instead, Ollie curled one hand around the belt and pulled back. He thrust in in slow and steady as Dick’s back flexed, shoulder blades dovetailing like wings, the muscles in his arms strained.
When Ollie was seated fully inside Dick’s body, the firm curve of Dick’s ass pressed against him, he leaned down and bit gently into one beautiful shoulder. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded, nipping at the side of Dick’s neck. “Tell me what you need me to do to you. I wanna hear you begging for it.”
Dick shivered, a moan shuddering through his whole body. The strain of his muscles, the warm pressure of Ollie’s body, the sheer fact that he couldn’t see anything was just driving him crazy.
But it was so good.
He groaned and leaned his head to the side, baring his neck for Ollie. ”Anything,” he hissed. ”Everything.” Oh yeah, *that* was specific. Ollie shifted slightly, tweaking Dick’s arms just a hair, making him moan. ”Fuck me…please,” he whispered, pressing his hips back against Ollie. ”Please.”
“Well,” Ollie said, his voice rolling out low and pleased. “I do like to reward politeness.” Keeping a firm grasp on the belt bundled around Dick’s wrists and curling his other hand around Dick’s hip to hold him steady, Ollie pulled out some and then pushed back into all that yielding heat, finding a rhythm as Dick’s body, accepting and flawlessly formed, adapted to being fucked almost instantly.
Dick’s voice was doing things Ollie hadn’t heard before, more raw, more open and wild, more needy; he hadn’t realized, until now, just how carefully modulated and controlled the kid’s voice was on a regular basis. It was easy to miss under the cheerful, melodious chatter, the pattering good-natured timbre. Like just about everything to do with Dick himself. Underneath was this astonishing creature, silken movements with boundless native grace and strength driving them, and on a downstroke Ollie curved himself over Dick’s body to drag his nose and mouth up the arched column of Dick’s spine. He smelled like … like Star City, somehow, Ollie realized with a jolt of arousal, like … sakura blossoms.
Growling against that scent mingling and swirling with the warm sweat blooming on Dick’s olive skin, Ollie gave one long broad swipe of his tongue across Dick’s shoulder as he kneeled up again, moving closer so he could change the rhythm of their fucking to something hungrier, more devouringly paced, Dick’s fingers twisting in the belt with each punishing thrust. “You’re goddamn gorgeous like this,” Ollie told him, “like this is what you were designed for, Dick, like your body wants this all the time. Wants to be fucked until you can’t beg for it anymore, till you’re open and wet and scorched from it, till all you can do is take it. Whatever way I wanna give it to you. mmmm?”
He liked this side of Ollie, Dick decided, this easy-but-rough, in-command side. He groaned and whined as Ollie shifted, pounding into him harder. He was always the first to understand the phrase “all-consuming passion” because he knew what it was like to be consumed by someone, to just melt and reform into whatever they wanted. It was how he lived. It was how he loved. It was--
He let out a high whine as his mind stopped and he just felt. Ollie was solid and firm and there and oh god he’s talking and mmm yes it’s good. “Yes. Yes, please, yes!” He panted and growled between words. “Any way... I’ll take it all.”
He arched up into Ollie at a deep thrust, slamming against his chest in a jolt of pleasure. “Touch me. Please-- touch me.” His fingers twitched and writhed in an effort to move more. “Ollie, I’m so hard, please. Touch me!”
Letting go of the belt -- Dick was clutching at it desperately, no signs of wanting to get free of the bonds at all -- Ollie licked his palm twice and reached around, grasping Dick’s cock as he made a keening sound and curved his back for them to fit together even more tightly. An elegant curve, and Ollie did after all love the lyrical, flexible lines of a good bow, so he sprawled his other hand high on Dick’s chest to keep him in that shape as Ollie stroked his cock.
The handjob was erratic at best, quick jerks and then moments where he was just holding on, thumb circling and pressing down on the head; Ollie’s attention was taken up mostly with the feel of being sunk so deep inside Dick’s body. He gritted his teeth and pushed in till his balls were flush against Dick, giving them both a moment to acclimate to the fullness, the pressure, then stayed there without thrusting while he directed his focus to his hand on Dick’s hard cock.
“I want you to come for me,” Ollie told Dick, murmuring into his damp, black hair, all in artistically thick glossy curls like on some dark renaissance youth, muse for some great master painter. The notion was vague but heady enough, Dick’s skin and musculature and earthy lustiness lending themselves to chiaroscuro brushstrokes, and Ollie tipped his nose down against Dick’s head, biting at his hair while using the broad palm of his hand as a sheath for Dick’s pretty cock, fingers squeezing, speed increasing. “Come as hard as you want, and then when you’re still recovering from that and your body’s softening and yielding and slowing down, then I’m gonna fuck you till *I* come.” Ollie’s nose bumped the knot of his necktie, still secured around Dick’s eyes, firing off the young man’s trained instincts to overcompensate with his other senses.
Ollie was surrounding him, holding him tight, so deep inside him, just all over him. The sound of Ollie’s breath in his ear, rough and strained in the sweetest of ways, sent chills down his spine. He brushed his fingers against Ollie’s belly, pleased to have something to touch. The hand on his chest stroked gently, a fingertip brushing teasingly against his nipple. The hand on his cock... mmm, that was doing lovely things.
He hissed at the speed, revelling in the warmth of Ollie’s hand, the slight wet sound of the strokes, the squeeze of Ollie’s fingers, and the heated smell of sex and semen. He growled at Ollie’s words, a low, hungry sound. “Yes.....” Ollie sped up a little more, until it was all Dick could do to not writhe out of his hands before--
“AH!” Dick came with a sound somewhere between a scream and a whine, arching up against Ollie, dropping his head back onto his shoulder. He clenched and spasmed around him, every sensation heightened by his other senses. He moaned and sobbed in Ollie’s arms as he sagged heavily into the chaise, his breath coming out in high, nervous giggles.
This was getting to be too fucking much. Once Dick had come, writhing beautifully on Ollie’s cock the whole time, all Ollie wanted was to do the same, as fast and as hard as he could.
Dick was already falling forward, so Ollie tugged the belt from his wrists and let him support himself on his hands as well as his knees. He put his hand between Dick’s shoulderblades and pushed him down, in fact, knowing that Dick would instinctively shove his ass backward, harder onto Ollie’s cock, spine arching again. It was gorgeous, but not quite strained enough.
Reaching forward, Ollie wrapped the trailing ends of his necktie-cum-blindfold around his fingers and yanked back, pulling Dick’s head up as if it were reins, forcing him to arch his back more. There, that was good, that was perfect; his body crashing between post-orgasm laxness and the twin sensations of being pulled up like this and being fucked like this. Splaying his other hand across Dick’s hip and ass, Ollie concentrated then on one single thing, the movement of his own hips, slamming into Dick with any rhythm or restraint eroding by the second. “Oh, jesus fuck, Dick, I’m gonna come …”
Ollie’s voice, rough and raw already, ground out on the last word as his balls tightened up and released, and he swiped off the tie from Dick’s head only to clench in his fist as he wrapped that arm high around Dick’s shoulders. The orgasm was almost blunt, brutal, jolting out of him and leaving him blinking and panting, curling down against Dick’s back.
Dick groaned at the strain in his back, his body pushed nearly to its limit. He wanted to relax and melt into the chaise, but Ollie was so hard and so rough. High whines choked out of him with every thrust, a fresh wave of pleasure rolling through him as Ollie got closer. He gasped as Ollie pulled the tie off, his eyes instantly trying to focus on something.
He moaned as Ollie slumped onto him, leaning heavily into the back of the chaise for the support his arms threatened to lose. He dropped his head and stared at the pattern of the fabric, his mouth working to try to find words, but only managing to spread into a smile. He laughed unconsciously, ecstatic and all but shaking with joy. He shifted his hips back against Ollie.
“Ollie.... ohmygod....”
“Goes double for me, bluebird.” Ollie rolled enough so he wasn’t making Dick support his weight, panting and laughing in breathless huffs. For all the roughness and intensity -- and the increasingly likely probability of round two, once he caught up again -- having sex with Dick was what could most accurately be called a romp. The loud, fun, dramatic, careless kind of sex that you could only have with somebody like-minded and enthusiastic, both of which Dick was in spades.
Affectionately slapping Dick’s hip, Ollie levered himself up with a groan. “C’mon, kiddo. These old bones need to sprawl out for a while on the very luxurious bed just over yonder if you want another go before we call it a day. I’m not spring chicken enough to screw in the back of a truck anymore, y’know.”
Dick laughed and flipped over to collapse into the chaise, watching Ollie with a smile. His body was tired, but not too much, more like the tired you get after a good workout, still full of energy, but suitably used. He liked the idea of a bed, though. It’d be nice to sprawl out and really stretch. Anything to prepare for round two.
He could have met Dick in Bludhaven, but they’d both tacitly avoided suggesting there as a meeting ground. It was still too close to Gotham, and it was too close to … other complications. So instead they’d met up in the bustle of the Starborside Quay and filled a leisurely lunchtime with the kind of affable, looping chatter that both of them enjoyed so much and could perform without the least bit of effort. Dick’s company always had been a pleasure, even when he’d been a tiny, excited parakeet of a child, eager to copy anything the grownups were doing. And as he’d gotten older, he seemed to become more and more a delight to be around, something accepted as general consensus even among the most sharp-tongued of Leaguers.
You talked to Dick and there was something about him — the compelling familiarity of his laugh, the absolute candor of his blue eyes, the stain of sadness that made his compassion so palpable — that left a person feeling like they’d just met the *one* guy in the entire world who’d think they were lovable no matter what.
“I’m glad you could come down and hang with me, Dick,” Ollie said as they ambled along the quayside post-meal. All the little shops were open to greet the spring sunshine and spring customers, rainbow pinwheels and gelato and handmade jewelry and bunches of flowers arrayed everywhere.
They diverged around an enormous doublewide stroller (both making faces at the twins inside, whose brown button noses crinkled identically in joy) and came back together on the other side as Ollie continued, “—us being the two guys in the League who can commiserate with each others’ particular romantical situations, and all.” He glanced at Dick and grinned, “Aaaand also with my son and granddaughter living with you. And us both being banned from Gotham. Too much common ground there not to want to touch base outside of the Tower, y’know?”
Dick laughed heartily, invigorated from the air, the company, or possibly a combination of the two. He casually linked their arms, falling into step with Ollie.
“Seriously. We’ve got way too much in common to stay apart.” He smiled at a passing boy who stared, wide-eyed, and tugged on his mother’s shirt at the strange men. Giggling, Dick leaned into Ollie.
“Besides, we’re not the ones with the blood feud.”
Ollie snorted at that. “Hopefully it won’t all come down to pistols at dawn or melodramatic stabbings,” he intoned dryly. It was nice having Dick this close, and although in lots of other places he’d have to be more careful about being seen with Bruce Wayne-spawned arm candy clinging to him, this was Star City. They’d long become accustomed to the idiosyncrasies of the lone scion of the Queen family.
Besides, it wasn’t like they were smooching in front of the centre plaza fountain.
“So how complicated *are* things on the broody side of the family, anyhow?” he asked. It was a big subject, but Ollie figured Dick might want an opportunity to talk about it. He seemed to always be serving as the appointed Batclan disaster wrangler, putting out fires and offering comfort, but Ollie wasn’t sure how much Dick dealt with his *own* needs.
… er, not the sexual ones. Dick had no problems in that area, Ollie could bank on *that*.
“Oh, they’re…y’know…” Dick smiled at Ollie sheepishly. ”Y’know…. They’re just… Bruce is brooding off to himself. Jason’s always fighting with me or clinging to me. Tim’s…keeping himself sane by avoiding it all, although he’s been working a lot more at everything, so it’s a lose-lose, really. I haven’t talked to the girls much, since they’re all off on their thing. Damian…”
Dick sighed and stopped to look in a store window, resting his head on Ollie’s shoulder. ”Damian’s getting better. I think he’s finally starting to figure out a place he can fit in with us and stuff. And he’s been behaving more. Well, more often than not, I guess.”
“So basically what you’re telling me is that it’s business as usual.” Ollie smiled at Dick’s reflection in the window to take any sting out of the words. “Which isn’t a bad thing, really, more like an all-clear. Nothing out of the ordinary roiling under the surface.”
They strolled further around the central plaza, coming to a stop to watch a bunch of children and parents cavorting with bubble wands around two young women who were making some kind of sales pitch to people and handing them out. “It’s good that Damian’s starting to settle in,” Ollie said. “Must be hard for him being up there among all the adults, and even the kids are significantly older than he is. I’m not surprised he was so determined to prove his autonomy, even if it meant amplifying the broody imperiousness. I’m glad he’s starting to realize that he belongs there and doesn’t need to keep everybody at arms’ length. His father could stand to learn that lesson himself.”
The two young women bounced over, and the one holding the clipboard and donation pail chirped, “Wanna play with some bubbles? We’re taking donations for a clean water initiative to built tube wells in rural Maharashtra!”
Ollie was already taking out his wallet. The girl clutching the bubble wands held one out, iridescent with soap, and Ollie nodded over to Dick as he dropped money into the bucket. “See if he wants it,” he said, amused. “Much more graceful with bubbles than I am.”
Dick smiled broadly at the girl holding the bubble wand, taking it with a “Thank you!” and a brush of hands that left her blushing. Dick looked around, trying to gauge where the most effective use of this bubble would be. Careful not to pop the soap, he held it up at Ollie, who was smiling and listening to the other woman’s explanation. Ollie side-eyed him, fighting a smirk as he turned to face him. Dick blew slowly on the wand, the bubble growing larger and larger toward Ollie until it finally popped, flinging tiny specks of bubble soap at him.
Dick handed the wand back to the woman, thanking her for it and, no, it’s completely fine, let some other kid have it, it’s fine! He linked his arm with Ollie’s again and continued their meandering, laughing heartily.
“You’re lucky you’re still so cute,” Ollie grinned, wiping soap spackle from his nose. “Y’know, the rest of us had kind of this unspoken thing? We all thought it must be pretty hard on you being raised by Gloomy Gus — bright little spark like you, especially — so all of your Justice League aunties and uncles tried to indulge you however we could.”
Dick really *had* been adorable back then, and no mistake; smart as a whip, faster than a sparrow, more cheerful than the spring. They’d all thought he was a complete joy to have around.
—That, as a matter of fact, *hadn’t* changed a bit. It was only that now, Dick had grown from a universally adored child to an undeniably gorgeous young man; his awareness of the strength and appeal of his acrobatic body, paired with the total lack of arrogance or self-consciousness about same, made him hard to resist.
And Ollie’d never been all that good at resistance, anyhow.
“Howzabout we go get a drink somewhere quieter?” he suggested. “There’s a hotel just over yonder where Queen Industries keeps a couple of suites for putting up out-of-town investors. The kind of thing I’m sure the Son of Wayne is more than familiar with.”
“Aw, did you? Is that why Bruce always said I was spoiled…” Dick laughed, momentarily distracted by a mockingbird chasing a crow. He cheered for the mockingbird, yelling up encouraging fighting words as it flew. He glanced back at Ollie and blushed slightly, looking just like the little sidekick he used to be. He perked up at Ollie’s words.
“Oh, really? Well, isn’t that nifty and convenient.” He ran his teeth over his bottom lip as he smiled. ”Just how many of these secret suites do you think I frequent, Mr. Queen?” His devilish smile lost some of its wickedness when he crinkled his nose at Ollie, but the mischievous spark in his eyes didn’t leave.
“I think quiet drinks sound lovely.”
The hotel was a very quick hustle in the other direction from the main Quay promenade, the staff didn’t bat an eyelash at Ollie sweeping in unannounced with Richard Grayson, and in no time at all they were in an elevator climbing the floors up to the QI suites. They stood very politely in the elevator, Dick at some sort of decorative at-ease with his hands behind his back and relaxed, elegant shoulders.
Ollie reached out to tap the floor selection panel. “No thirteen,” he said. “In some hotels they just mis-number the thirteenth floor as fourteen, and in some they call it by a different name. Some of ‘em just use the thirteenth as a mechanical room that’s only accessible by a freight elevator. The most awkward one is when they call it 12A or something like that. I haven’t bothered finding out which one’s the case for this hotel.”
Glancing over at Dick, Ollie found that the kid was actually looking *interested* in all this bullshit, blue eyes alert and that customary slight smile on his face. And if he wasn’t actually interested, he was very good at faking it in order to be pleasant company. But Ollie wasn’t that interested in being polite company for Dick to be on pleasant good behaviour for.
“At any rate,” he said, turning, and pushed Dick’s shoulder against the wall of the elevator, holding Dick there for Ollie to lean in and kiss him.
Ollie had been rattling on about something about not having thirteen floors—a common superstition among hotels, his mind reminded him, running through a couple Twilight Zone-esque scenarios about the unlucky floor—and he’d kept smiling. He was more interested in the fact that Ollie was talking to him than what he was actually saying. He liked the way his mouth moved, the slight twitch of his mustache when he smirked. His eyes jumped to Ollie’s as he pushed him against the wall.
The kiss sent a jolt of electricity down his spine, just like in the arboretum. He moaned happily, kneading Ollie’s shoulders to pull him closer. He let Ollie’s weight push him into the wall, perfectly content to just stay comfortable there. Ollie licked at the inside of his teeth, and he swore he heard bells.
Then the door slid open.
They both looked at the hallway, and Dick giggled. ”Well, at least no one was there, right?”
“At the very least,” Ollie said, grinning, and pointed up at the ceiling of the elevator. “Wave hi to the camera, bluebird.”
Dick instinctively did as he was told, then looked over at Ollie, eyes big. Ollie laughed, pulling him out of the elevator and down the hall, fishing out the room key from his pocket. “Don’t worry, kid — no chance of us ending up on Perez Hilton for this. Security lady is under standing orders to burn any tape of Mr. Queen’s private comings and goings.”
He got the door open and grabbed Dick around the waist, hoisting him up and throwing the young man over his shoulder to carry inside the suite. The whole maneuver went off like they’d planned it, Dick responded so naturally to any sort of physicality; he went over Ollie’s shoulder with a joyous laugh, then when Ollie tossed him down on the chaise in the sitting area, Dick landed as though it was a pro dismount.
Pulling off his tie (and hadn’t wearing a suit to this lunch been a leetle bit calculating, because Ollie hadn’t *planned* on getting Dick on his back but hell, he knew his audience and how to stack the deck), Ollie kneeled over Dick on the chaise and watched as those blue eyes got darker, needier. “Ahhhhh, pretty boy,” he murmured. “What am I gonna do with *you*.”
Dick wouldn’t lie. Seeing Ollie in a suit had done things to him all day. Being thrown over a shoulder, tossed on a chaise, the dramatic removal of the tie… *oh* Dick was in heaven. He moaned slightly as Ollie leaned over him, shifting and rocking upwards just slightly. Just so he’d *know*.
“I dunno….” He nibbled his lip and grinned. ”I’ll bet there are a *lot* of things you can do with me. We didn’t get to everything in the arboretum…..”
“We barely even scratched the surface, you could fairly say.” Ollie braced his hands against the headrest of the chaise, bracketing Dick, confining him as he leaned down for a kiss. Dick was wiggly, raising himself off the couch, so Ollie slanted his legs and hips heavily across him to pin him down. “You need to stay still,” Ollie said, putting some steel into his voice.
— And oh la, that set off the match, because Dick instantly went stock-still beneath him. Ollie smirked. He moved one hand down, dragging his fingers across Dick’s open mouth, pushing his index and middle finger into all that hot, eager wetness. “Suck them good,” he said, slowly fucking Dick’s mouth with his fingers, leaning in to bite the corner of Dick’s mouth hard as he used his thumb to hold Dick’s jaw steady.
Dick’s lips already felt swollen under Ollie’s teeth. He licked the spot he’d bitten, pushing his fingers in deeper, digging his thumb into Dick’s throat until he heard the choked noise he’d been waiting for. It didn’t seem to stop Dick from sucking on Ollie’s fingers.
“Atta boy,” Ollie murmured. “If you need something to do — and I’m thinking you might, right about now — you can undo my shirt.”
Dick sucked hard on Ollie’s fingers, moaning from the need to move. But he wouldn’t! Not until Ollie told him he—ohyesthankgod.
He clawed at Ollie’s shirt, torn between the urge to just rip it off and take it off slowly. Slow would give him more time to move, but then Ollie might be cross with him. He took it off as fast as he could do it neatly, rubbing the firm skin underneath. Ollie pushed his fingers farther into Dick’s mouth in warning and Dick reluctantly put his hands down at his sides.
Dick pushed toward Ollie’s mouth, moaning at him for more, pursing his lips around Ollie’s fingers to make the point.
“Easy now, little bird. I’m not gonna leave you in the lurch — or make you wait too long.”
Ollie scooped Dick forward, pulling his shirt off, then let him lie back and raise his hips helpfully as Ollie rustled him easily out of pants and underwear too. It was a remarkably swift procedure with a partner as flexible and willing as Dick was. Ollie smoothed his hands up Dick’s flanks, feeling the taut muscles of his thighs, and pressed the heel of one hand against Dick’s hip as he he continued running his other hand up Dick’s side, across his flat stomach, up to one dark nipple.
His still-damp fingers were chilly against Dick’s skin, and the flesh of his nipple pebbled under Ollie’s touch. “So fucking ready for it, aren’t you?” he said, first thumbing across Dick’s nipple, then giving him a firm pinch. “Good thing I like ‘em a little sluttish, sweetheart.”
Ollie nosed in for a kiss, smiling against Dick’s mouth; he reached down to the side of the chaise and snagged his tie from the floor. Still close enough to brush noses with Dick, he brought the tie up and wrapped it around Dick’s eyes, tying it off securely behind his dark head. One more kiss, licking at Dick’s teeth, and Ollie pulled back. He sat up and just watched, for a moment, as Dick’s finely-honed senses kicked instantly into effect and he responded to every little sound or movement or shift in air current. It was a beautiful thing. Maybe a little specialized to their line of work, but that was no detraction from how much Ollie enjoyed watching Dick adjust to being blindfolded.
“Compensate for having your vision compromised, Dick,” Ollie said, letting the words growl deep in his throat, a headily warm thrum. He waited a moment, silence settling again, then deliberately, slowly, undid his belt buckle.
Dick shivered as Ollie ran his hands over him, fighting the urge to reach back and touch him. Ollie’d told him to stay still, so he was staying still. He gasped as the blindfold was tied, smiling unconsciously. His body tingled, as it registered the change. He was always sensitive to the slightest touch, but now….
He couldn’t stop the moan that escaped him as his body reacted to everything, mapping out the room. Ollie’s voice sent a shiver through him and he had to force himself to calm down. He relaxed in the silence, listening to every creak of the springs and movement from the room below. Even swallowing was loud in his ears. He held his breath in anticipation, waiting for Ollie to do…something. *Anything.*
And then he heard it.
Dick groaned, arching through the shock of pleasure that rolls through his body straight down to his groin. He wanted to touch, wants to feel, wants to *see*, even without his eyes. He whined and writhed on the chaise, sending all his focus into not grabbing at Ollie, at trying to keep still.
“I’m ready,” he whispered, his voice already dark and husky with need. ”I’m *so* fucking ready…..”
It was nothing short of fascinating to watch Dick struggling against Ollie’s careless edict on keeping still; he kept moving in fluid, mesmerizing shifts that made his lovely muscles ripple under his skin. Ollie’d never seen anything quite like it, and his cock was hard as fuck at the thought of what it would be like inside of Dick’s gorgeous, hungry body.
Holding his doubled-up belt in one hand, Ollie took hold of Dick and flipped him over, rearranging him brusquely to suit his needs: collarbones pressed against the raised headrest of the chaise, knees pushed under him, ass high in the air. “Spread your legs,” Ollie ordered, and Dick readjusted without a moment’s loss, complying to an almost egregious degree.
“Very nice,” Ollie said, taking a moment to tend to himself, leaving his own clothes mostly on. “When I’m done taking the edge off here,” he informed Dick, “I think I’m gonna fuck you up against the wall with your ankles on my shoulders. If you’re very good, I’ll even let you take the blindfold off and move around some.”
Dick would be good. Of course he would. Ollie had no doubts on that count. “Put your hands behind your back, precious,” Ollie said. He gathered up Dick’s hands, letting the kid grasp at his fingers for a while, and then tied his belt around Dick’s wrists in a tight knot. Easy enough to get out of, if Dick even half thought about it. But Ollie was betting that Dick had no interest in escape.
Slicking his cock up, Ollie then rubbed some more lube over Dick’s hole and pushed one finger in, barely waiting before adding another. God, Dick was just so … accepting, and scorching silky hot inside, and Ollie’s cock jumped impatiently as he scissored his fingers into Dick’s body.
Dick whined as Ollie told him what he was planning, so matter-of-fact about it all. The belt around his wrists was solid and tight, perfect for grounding when things got too intense. He could still feel every crease in the leather, slipping his fingers along as much of it as he could reach.
He gasped as Ollie fingered him, relaxing and tensing rhythmically around him. He arched up ever so slightly, unconsciously, and Ollie stopped moving, enjoying Dick’s dilemma. Dick settled back into the chaise and Ollie started thrusting again, adding another finger easily. Dick curled down and groaned into the fabric.
“More,” he half-growled, half-pleaded. ”More….”
“Easy there,” Ollie murmured, although whether he was talking to himself or Dick or both he wasn’t sure — the head of his cock pushed into Dick with only the slightest of resistance, and the instant pressure made him want to slam in deep in one go. But that wouldn’t be any fun, not just yet; instead, Ollie curled one hand around the belt and pulled back. He thrust in in slow and steady as Dick’s back flexed, shoulder blades dovetailing like wings, the muscles in his arms strained.
When Ollie was seated fully inside Dick’s body, the firm curve of Dick’s ass pressed against him, he leaned down and bit gently into one beautiful shoulder. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded, nipping at the side of Dick’s neck. “Tell me what you need me to do to you. I wanna hear you begging for it.”
Dick shivered, a moan shuddering through his whole body. The strain of his muscles, the warm pressure of Ollie’s body, the sheer fact that he couldn’t see anything was just driving him crazy.
But it was so good.
He groaned and leaned his head to the side, baring his neck for Ollie. ”Anything,” he hissed. ”Everything.” Oh yeah, *that* was specific. Ollie shifted slightly, tweaking Dick’s arms just a hair, making him moan. ”Fuck me…please,” he whispered, pressing his hips back against Ollie. ”Please.”
“Well,” Ollie said, his voice rolling out low and pleased. “I do like to reward politeness.” Keeping a firm grasp on the belt bundled around Dick’s wrists and curling his other hand around Dick’s hip to hold him steady, Ollie pulled out some and then pushed back into all that yielding heat, finding a rhythm as Dick’s body, accepting and flawlessly formed, adapted to being fucked almost instantly.
Dick’s voice was doing things Ollie hadn’t heard before, more raw, more open and wild, more needy; he hadn’t realized, until now, just how carefully modulated and controlled the kid’s voice was on a regular basis. It was easy to miss under the cheerful, melodious chatter, the pattering good-natured timbre. Like just about everything to do with Dick himself. Underneath was this astonishing creature, silken movements with boundless native grace and strength driving them, and on a downstroke Ollie curved himself over Dick’s body to drag his nose and mouth up the arched column of Dick’s spine. He smelled like … like Star City, somehow, Ollie realized with a jolt of arousal, like … sakura blossoms.
Growling against that scent mingling and swirling with the warm sweat blooming on Dick’s olive skin, Ollie gave one long broad swipe of his tongue across Dick’s shoulder as he kneeled up again, moving closer so he could change the rhythm of their fucking to something hungrier, more devouringly paced, Dick’s fingers twisting in the belt with each punishing thrust. “You’re goddamn gorgeous like this,” Ollie told him, “like this is what you were designed for, Dick, like your body wants this all the time. Wants to be fucked until you can’t beg for it anymore, till you’re open and wet and scorched from it, till all you can do is take it. Whatever way I wanna give it to you. mmmm?”
He liked this side of Ollie, Dick decided, this easy-but-rough, in-command side. He groaned and whined as Ollie shifted, pounding into him harder. He was always the first to understand the phrase “all-consuming passion” because he knew what it was like to be consumed by someone, to just melt and reform into whatever they wanted. It was how he lived. It was how he loved. It was--
He let out a high whine as his mind stopped and he just felt. Ollie was solid and firm and there and oh god he’s talking and mmm yes it’s good. “Yes. Yes, please, yes!” He panted and growled between words. “Any way... I’ll take it all.”
He arched up into Ollie at a deep thrust, slamming against his chest in a jolt of pleasure. “Touch me. Please-- touch me.” His fingers twitched and writhed in an effort to move more. “Ollie, I’m so hard, please. Touch me!”
Letting go of the belt -- Dick was clutching at it desperately, no signs of wanting to get free of the bonds at all -- Ollie licked his palm twice and reached around, grasping Dick’s cock as he made a keening sound and curved his back for them to fit together even more tightly. An elegant curve, and Ollie did after all love the lyrical, flexible lines of a good bow, so he sprawled his other hand high on Dick’s chest to keep him in that shape as Ollie stroked his cock.
The handjob was erratic at best, quick jerks and then moments where he was just holding on, thumb circling and pressing down on the head; Ollie’s attention was taken up mostly with the feel of being sunk so deep inside Dick’s body. He gritted his teeth and pushed in till his balls were flush against Dick, giving them both a moment to acclimate to the fullness, the pressure, then stayed there without thrusting while he directed his focus to his hand on Dick’s hard cock.
“I want you to come for me,” Ollie told Dick, murmuring into his damp, black hair, all in artistically thick glossy curls like on some dark renaissance youth, muse for some great master painter. The notion was vague but heady enough, Dick’s skin and musculature and earthy lustiness lending themselves to chiaroscuro brushstrokes, and Ollie tipped his nose down against Dick’s head, biting at his hair while using the broad palm of his hand as a sheath for Dick’s pretty cock, fingers squeezing, speed increasing. “Come as hard as you want, and then when you’re still recovering from that and your body’s softening and yielding and slowing down, then I’m gonna fuck you till *I* come.” Ollie’s nose bumped the knot of his necktie, still secured around Dick’s eyes, firing off the young man’s trained instincts to overcompensate with his other senses.
Ollie was surrounding him, holding him tight, so deep inside him, just all over him. The sound of Ollie’s breath in his ear, rough and strained in the sweetest of ways, sent chills down his spine. He brushed his fingers against Ollie’s belly, pleased to have something to touch. The hand on his chest stroked gently, a fingertip brushing teasingly against his nipple. The hand on his cock... mmm, that was doing lovely things.
He hissed at the speed, revelling in the warmth of Ollie’s hand, the slight wet sound of the strokes, the squeeze of Ollie’s fingers, and the heated smell of sex and semen. He growled at Ollie’s words, a low, hungry sound. “Yes.....” Ollie sped up a little more, until it was all Dick could do to not writhe out of his hands before--
“AH!” Dick came with a sound somewhere between a scream and a whine, arching up against Ollie, dropping his head back onto his shoulder. He clenched and spasmed around him, every sensation heightened by his other senses. He moaned and sobbed in Ollie’s arms as he sagged heavily into the chaise, his breath coming out in high, nervous giggles.
This was getting to be too fucking much. Once Dick had come, writhing beautifully on Ollie’s cock the whole time, all Ollie wanted was to do the same, as fast and as hard as he could.
Dick was already falling forward, so Ollie tugged the belt from his wrists and let him support himself on his hands as well as his knees. He put his hand between Dick’s shoulderblades and pushed him down, in fact, knowing that Dick would instinctively shove his ass backward, harder onto Ollie’s cock, spine arching again. It was gorgeous, but not quite strained enough.
Reaching forward, Ollie wrapped the trailing ends of his necktie-cum-blindfold around his fingers and yanked back, pulling Dick’s head up as if it were reins, forcing him to arch his back more. There, that was good, that was perfect; his body crashing between post-orgasm laxness and the twin sensations of being pulled up like this and being fucked like this. Splaying his other hand across Dick’s hip and ass, Ollie concentrated then on one single thing, the movement of his own hips, slamming into Dick with any rhythm or restraint eroding by the second. “Oh, jesus fuck, Dick, I’m gonna come …”
Ollie’s voice, rough and raw already, ground out on the last word as his balls tightened up and released, and he swiped off the tie from Dick’s head only to clench in his fist as he wrapped that arm high around Dick’s shoulders. The orgasm was almost blunt, brutal, jolting out of him and leaving him blinking and panting, curling down against Dick’s back.
Dick groaned at the strain in his back, his body pushed nearly to its limit. He wanted to relax and melt into the chaise, but Ollie was so hard and so rough. High whines choked out of him with every thrust, a fresh wave of pleasure rolling through him as Ollie got closer. He gasped as Ollie pulled the tie off, his eyes instantly trying to focus on something.
He moaned as Ollie slumped onto him, leaning heavily into the back of the chaise for the support his arms threatened to lose. He dropped his head and stared at the pattern of the fabric, his mouth working to try to find words, but only managing to spread into a smile. He laughed unconsciously, ecstatic and all but shaking with joy. He shifted his hips back against Ollie.
“Ollie.... ohmygod....”
“Goes double for me, bluebird.” Ollie rolled enough so he wasn’t making Dick support his weight, panting and laughing in breathless huffs. For all the roughness and intensity -- and the increasingly likely probability of round two, once he caught up again -- having sex with Dick was what could most accurately be called a romp. The loud, fun, dramatic, careless kind of sex that you could only have with somebody like-minded and enthusiastic, both of which Dick was in spades.
Affectionately slapping Dick’s hip, Ollie levered himself up with a groan. “C’mon, kiddo. These old bones need to sprawl out for a while on the very luxurious bed just over yonder if you want another go before we call it a day. I’m not spring chicken enough to screw in the back of a truck anymore, y’know.”
Dick laughed and flipped over to collapse into the chaise, watching Ollie with a smile. His body was tired, but not too much, more like the tired you get after a good workout, still full of energy, but suitably used. He liked the idea of a bed, though. It’d be nice to sprawl out and really stretch. Anything to prepare for round two.