Night Pleasures 2

Author/pseudonym: J.C.

Rating: NC-17

Fandom: Batman

Pairings: Batman/Nightwing

Series: sequel to "Sidekicks"

Feedback addy: jazzedup@prodigy.net

Author's Website: http://internetdump.com/users/jayci

Disclaimers: All characters used in this story belong to someone else... but they still insist on hanging around me. And they're superheroes, after all, so nothing I'm doing seems to have any permanent effects on them.

Notes: Ask and you shall receive. [Okay, essentially, that was just a joke, but I'm *trying* to be productive.] Another short PWP -- a companion piece to Night Pleasures. Nightwing's view of things.

Summary: Nightwing responds to a phone call.

Warnings: Contains D/s and b/d elements

Something was up.

From the minute he'd gotten the phone call, he had felt it. The rumbling of the cycle underneath him matched the vibrating tension coursing through him. He tried to keep his mind on the road, on whatever Batman needed him for.

It was something big. He had heard it in the voice. He could feel it in his gut.

He was ready for it.

***

Still, he hadn't really been prepared at all. Not for the sight of Batman on his knees as he entered the BatCave.

Focus; control... lessons he'd learned from the man before him held him in good stead. Kept him from just losing it right then and there... creaming the inside of his costume.

He had wanted this, but had felt it might be too much for the Bat. Taking the risk anyway, he had tossed out the idea when Bruce had been the most vulnerable to him. Hanging on the edge, waiting for permission to come.

Evidently, it had worked.

There was Batman. Waiting. Silently asking him to play.

And *now* he was ready.

Slowly, he walked forward, pleased that his lover stayed in position: eyes lowered, hands clasped behind his back. A beautiful picture, about to become even more so.

"Strip down. Leave the cape and cowl."

And so it began.

***

He started with simple touches designed to tease. Pressing firmly in places, feathering slightly in others. Keeping notice of the building tension in the hard body. It fired his blood to feel the power straining to be held in check. His hands grew more insistent as he voiced his pleasure with words also calculated to increase the torment.

Whispering what he was going to do, what he was going to make Batman do.

"Please."

The quiet plea was unexpected, but not unwelcome. It gave him ideas.

Stepping back, he answered, "No. Please *me*."

The reaction was instant, his lover moving to crawl forward.

"Stop."

There was a moan of disappointment, but again obedience was immediate.

"Look at me."

He watched as the gaze slowly lifted, suppressing a grin as it lingered at certain spots. By the time their eyes locked, his face was set with an appropriately stony expression.

"Touch yourself. Show off what's mine. Make me want it as much as you want it."

For a minute, he thought maybe he had gone too far, too fast. But he pressed on, anyway.

"*Please* me." Making it as strong as he could.

And it worked.

The large hands came up, playing over the solid flesh of a muscled torso, before pinching both nipples into pebbled hardness. Enticing noises filled the air as his lover worked to present himself in the most pleasing manner. Gripping the steely length of dick in a strong fist, making it grow even larger, the head swollen and leaking, nipples standing out from the defined pecs.

As he watched, three fingers were sucked, and his lover began to fuck himself, hand buried between the firm asscheeks. Appreciating the initiative, he slowly circled the offered exhibition, enjoying the knowledge that it was his alone. Observing the effort of forward and backward motions, the cock-stroking, ass-fucking precision.

Batman, the finely tuned machine.

It looked indecent. It looked inviting. It looked inspirational.

"Stop."

He slid a finger down his lover's back, the sweaty muscles trembling under his touch.

Looking down, he said, "You've done very well. *Very* well. Who wouldn't want to fuck this mouth." He traced the line of a lip. "Or fuck this ass?" He pinched one meaty asscheek. "Or fuck this cock." He smeared the moisture into the crown of his lover's dick.

"So close, aren't you," he asked. "Do you deserve a reward?"

No response except an increase in the trembling. Closer to the edge than he thought, but it wasn't over yet.

"Answer me."

"If it pleases you."

He chuckled, deep and throaty, indeed pleased by the reply, and decided it was time to turn up the heat. "Hands on your head."

That order was met, leaving a raging hard-on exposed and wanting.

"Lie back, keep your eyes closed, hands above your head, stretch your legs, then pull your knees up to your chest level, but spread them wide."

As the body before him was arranged in the ordered position, he smiled. Spread open in such a wanton display, his lover looked vulnerable, but still strong. An awesome picture of controlled power.

It made him want to fuck the man senseless.

But first things first. Getting into place between the thick thighs, he lowered his head, and took in the unsuspecting erection.

Immediately, his lover bucked upwards, stunned by the sensation. He gripped him by the balls, squeezing until he knew that the pain had taken the edge off of the rush of desire.

"Stay still. You've been beautiful so far, having to punish you wouldn't please me right now."

That put ideas into his head, but he put them aside for another time. Instead, he once again focused on sucking his lover's hard-on, purposely taking him closer and closer, sensing the increasing tension, listening to the quiet sobs.

Without ceasing his oral attack, he added his hands to the exquisite torture. Fondling the heavy sacs, teasing over the quivering opening, tickling the hardened nipples. The sobs became cries, increasing in volume, and they spurred him on.

Suddenly, he shoved his fingers inside, slipping in the crack moistened with the run of saliva from his suction, heading straight for his lover's prostate. He knew it would be too much, knew that the pain of holding back would be great, and the ultimate climax would be greater. That his lover would feel both the agony and the joy of losing control. With a twist of his wrist, and a trick he'd perfected with his throat, he pushed his lover headlong into the abyss...

The minute he shifted away, his lover was there, kissing his hand, ass presented, apologizing without words for coming without permission. Moved by the demonstration, he lifted the lowered head, and kissed him.

"Relax. That was your reward. You are so fucking beautiful, and you do please me."

Smiling, they looked into each other's eyes. Masks in place, but façades stripped away.

He allowed that for only a moment. Then he pushed his lover downward to where his dick was standing up insistently.

Softly, he said, "Please me."

And Batman opened his mouth, and obeyed.

*the end*