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Poison Oak	By : Owlgirl Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 2889 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Batman and all related characters are copyright DC Comics. I make no money off these stories.

Chapter List
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“Then you’re not going to tell me?” Roy sounds pained when he says it, like Jason just came over and punched him in the gut, kicked him when he was down, ripped his fucking heart out (though he was certain the brunette did that a long time ago).

“What? You feel you *deserve* to know?”

“Yeah, actually. I do. I put up with you for months. Let you into my life to stay at my place when you needed to get away, play with my daughter, lay in my bed while we fucked! Yeah, you’re damn right I deserve it!”

Jason holds back a laugh before he moves to down the rest of his vodka with a little hiss. He licks his lips with his brows raised and examines Roy’s body language: defensive, pissed as hell, almost looking like he’s ready to throw a punch in Jason‘s direction. “Alright, Roy. You’ve made your point. Now, finish your goddamn drink. You look like you could use another.”

He stands, heading towards the dry bar and as he’s reaching for the vodka, Roy’s glass comes sailing past his head, only to shatter against the vintage 40s wallpaper of the office. Jason sighs, setting the liquor bottle down from its pouring before he turns. Roy looks much angrier than he did a minute ago, not that Jay really even cares. “I can’t replace this wallpaper, Harper. They don’t make it anymore.”

“I don’t fucking care about your damn wallpaper,” he grates out as he approaches the brunette. Roy grabs Jason in the next moment, shaking him by the shoulders, just a bit surprised when the man takes it (though he doesn’t show it, *can’t*). “Jason…it’s been 4 years…4 years where I’ve been wondering what the hell happened, why no one could give me the answers I’ve been looking for…why I had to keep telling Lian ‘no, uncle Jay isn’t coming to breakfast or lunch or dinner…he’s not coming to tuck you in at night, to make sure you have your rabbit…to sit with you on’--”

The back of Jason’s hand hits Roy’s cheek with a loud smack, then he’s pushing the man back, grunting as his body tenses with defensiveness. “Shut your mouth. You’re trying to guilt me and it’s not going to work. You don’t think Dick and Bruce have tried that? Because they have, over and over and I’m fucking sick of it. Your life isn’t one giant sob story, Harper. Yeah, you’ve had a couple of close scrapes, got yourself lost in an addiction, were raised by a shitty father figure…but take a step back and fucking look at yourself. You have a house over your head, a family, food on the table every night. That’s way more than I ever had when I was a kid. I was eating out of dumpsters, even sold my body once in a while just so I could have the money to get by. I admit, things were good with you, back when I was content with living in that goddamn manor and being that little *bird*, but after…after *everything*, I couldn’t go back to that or you. It wasn’t your fault or anyone else‘s . It’s not like a part of me didn’t…feel something for you, but it wouldn’t have worked in the end anyways. So get over me. Get out of my club. And get the hell outta Gotham.” He turns back to the bar, finally pouring another drink, which he immediately downs.

Even with that mountain of words and way Jason looked at him as he rambled on (the way he *slapped* him without so much as a thought or regret), it isn’t enough to convince Roy to leave. He’s waited far too long for answers and he’ll do just about anything to get them…at least anything that doesn‘t cross the line of his moral standing. “I’m not leaving.”

The brunette sighs against the lip of the glass as he taps short nails against the bar top. He turns to look at Roy over his shoulder, taking in that expression…Roy Harper’s version of determined puppy dog eyes. It may have worked in the past, may have worked with Robin, but not Red Hood. “Don’t look at me like that. It‘s annoying.”

“Why can’t you just tell me? Then I can get on with my life and leave you alone for the rest of forever.”

“Maybe…,” Another drink is poured, but sipped at a bit timidly this time. “…It’s painful for me.”

“Painful?” Roy looks surprised like Jason’s slapped him again or dropped a brick on his foot.

“Yeah, because maybe the journey from there to here wasn’t the best experience in my life. Maybe everyday I woke up I wanted to die. Maybe I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror…”

“Jay…” The archer approaches him again, wrapping his arms slowly (nervously) around the brunette’s waist and pulling him back into his chest with a sigh. He would kiss the man’s neck if this was 4 years ago, if they could still be together…if they weren‘t a hero and a villain having a talk. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your pity. I’ve taken enough of that.”

“Then what do you want? …Besides me out of your life. I‘ll barter for the answers I‘m looking for, Jay, I will.”

Jason gets stuck thinking, silent and still in Roy’s arms. There’s a lot of things he wants, things like Falcone dead, a few of his problem gang members put in line, parts of the last few years erased…he wants satisfaction. But…Roy’s breath is hot against his ear, a pant of waiting and fear (at least something like it). His arms are strong around Jason’s waist (and sense memory is kicking in, images of them after patrol and how close Roy wanted to be just so he could be sure Jay was *okay*).

“Let me,” he turns to face the archer, watching the man with heavy eyes, hands creeping up to rest against his biceps, squeezing the muscles and breathing deep. “Let me…” Jason shakes his head and laughs softly, though there’s no amusement in it.

“Let you…what?”

“I don’t give out information for free.”

“I figured as much. Just tell--”

“Strip and lean against the desk. Back to me. No talking.”

The archer steps back--where the hell did that come from? Jason had been yelling at him earlier, saying they didn’t belong together, that things would have never worked out and now…now he wanted to use Roy for what? A pity fuck? He doesn’t question it out loud though, just does as he’s told, seating himself in a chair so he can remove his shoes and socks. He takes his time to put all his clothing in a neat pile before pressing his hands to Red Hood’s intimidating mahogany desk and spreading his legs. He isn’t embarrassed about his nudity, it’s something that’s never really bothered him, especially not with Jason. This is just another…thing.

Jason had finished off another two drinks before Roy was finally ready, his head hanging down against his chest. “Good. Obedience is something I…*treasure* in my organization,” he says in an amused tone, making his way towards the empty chair in front of his desk and taking a seat. Jason sets his hands in his lap as he makes an appreciative sound at the sight before him (the planes of tanned skin, moving with perfectly tuned muscles under the surface). He notices Roy trying to stay as still as possible and failing as the minutes, silent, except for their breathing, go by.

Roy wants to ask the point of all this, throw his clothes back on and just try to force the answers from Jason, but he *agreed* so he keeps his mouth shut.

The brunette stands suddenly and walks to the other side of his desk, opening one of the top drawers and pulling out a bottle of lubricant. He looks calm and collected, in control of the arousal the sight of Roy nude and spread brings. He sets the slick in front of the archer and takes his seat again. “Open the bottle and put some on your fingers.”

Roy’s mouth opens, then shuts again--Jason wants to *watch* him…and there’s something so horribly dirty about it, worse than if they just went ahead and fucked. He follows the orders given, knowing that after it all, Jason would spill and the truth would be there for Roy to devour (and possibly be upset about). He waits quietly for the next set of instructions, fingers slick and ready, a bit of lube dripping onto the man’s desk which he doesn’t move to wipe up.

“One finger. Don’t make a sound.”

This was definitely going to rank up there with weirdest crap he’d done when it came to sex (not that he was complaining…even if he was hoping that when Jay told him to bend over the desk, the brunette would be doing more than sitting back and spouting orders). Roy holds back his sigh, letting off a little breath instead as he spreads his legs wider in anticipation. The finger is pushed into him with a familiar sting of pain, but he takes it as he goes, moving the digit in further, slowly, until Jason makes a curt cough.

“Faster. I don’t have all fucking night.”

Roy shuts his green eyes tight, managing to push in to the knuckle without so much as a groan. He was doing pretty well so far, though the hardening between his legs was going to be a problem. The man holds the digit still, flexing around it, waiting patiently for Jason to speak again (god, he wasn’t enjoying this, even though his body was reacting).

“Thrust. Hard and fast, Harper.”

This was going to get on his nerves really quickly. Jason sounded so damn in control, not even a stray pant or moan as Roy began to move the digit as requested. It was getting harder to keep his voice in at this point, and took every little bit of his willpower he could collect. If he could just concentrate, *focus* on the movement of his hand, leave all higher thinking to what would come after this, then he would be home free.

But after a few minutes, Jason pipes up again, shifting in the chair, and from the sound of it, typing in something on his phone. “What are you thinking about? …You can talk now, by the way. Trick questions aren‘t my style.”

“Hmm, I…,” Roy swallows, his hand stopping for a few seconds so he can begin to think in words instead of images (flashes of bare skin, with moans and whimpers). “You…I’m thinking of you…our first time actually.” He hears Jason makes an amused sound, but he doesn’t say anything against the man’s current thoughts, so the archer continues. “The way--mm--the way you looked…sweat soaked…tunic half open…”

“And those ridiculous shorts around my thighs, yeah? The way my mouth…” Jason pauses, standing up quietly and walking to Roy’s side to lean into his ear and speak in whispers. “Felt, hot on your skin…your dick…” He smirks as the man shudders and moans softly with his green eyes closed so tight he‘s seeing stars.

“*Jason*…”

“Add a finger. And don’t hold anything in. I want to hear it.”

It takes a moment, but Roy manages to push another finger into his body, though he can’t help when he trembles and pants. Jason’s proximity and the way his breathing hit’s his neck and ear, his laughter right *there*, feeling like a taunt as Roy fucks himself.

“If only Bruce found out what you were doing to me. He would have had your head. You didn’t care though…you wanted more of me. You wanted to feel the way I clenched around you and you lived for it, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t even realize he’s nodding, not when he’s trying to hold himself together, though Jason has always made that difficult for him (he knows how to use his body and voice to tease and arouse). Roy swallows, feeling a sheen of sweat against his brow and his ex’s amused smile against his ear lobe. The archer pushes himself harder, hitting his prostate on each thrust in, then Jason is touching him…running his fingers smoothly up the man’s spine and that’s enough to make him orgasm. He groans and falls forward, then slips down to sit on the office floor with the boneless haze of post-orgasm. When he opens his eyes, he can see his semen spattered against the dark wood of the desk and there’s just *something* (horrible and wonderful) about it. He thinks Jason is going to tease, instead the man seats himself with a satisfied chuckle.

“Well, well, Harper. Seems you enjoyed yourself.

Roy’s being handed a tissue in the next moment, so he begins to clean slowly, his bones feeling just a bit too much like jelly. There’s the tap-tap-tap of Jay on his phone again and he hears the man grunt and give a soft apology.

“Since…you gave me what I wanted, I’ll tell you.”

He wipes the lube from his fingers and crumples the sticky tissue, before throwing it into the waste paper basket on the side of the desk. Roy stands after a quiet moment and begins to dress, reaching out for his briefs and slipping them up long, muscled. Jason doesn’t say a word about it, but he can feel the brunette’s blue eyes on him, taking in the sight one last time.

“Four years ago,” Jason starts suddenly with a huff, “I was working by myself while Bruce was gone on some business meeting in Greece. He asked me to come along, but I decided to stay behind with Dick and watch the city in case anything bad happened.”

“You--”

“Don’t *interrupt*. …It was on a Thursday and Bruce called to tell me he couldn’t leave that day because the weather was bad over the North Atlantic. I was fine with that, he had been gone all week so what would another night make? When I set down the phone…I thought about calling you, asking you to Gotham to help on my patrol, but decided against it at the last second.

“That night, I went out as usual. I handled the west side while Dick took the east and everything was going smoothly until about 2 in the morning. There was a call on the police radio about a domestic disturbance…just another *thing* to do. We get those all the time in Gotham, so why should this time be any different…”

Roy can’t look away from Jason as he seats himself when he‘s fully dressed, noticing the nervous kind of energy around the man and the way his leg begins to tap up and down as he continues the story. He knows that there aren’t going to be any happy endings involved.

“But it wasn’t like any other domestic disturbance call I’ve been on. I crept through the window and…immediately got hit in the face with the side of a pistol. I remember my nose bleeding, wiping at the liquid with one gauntlet and smiling as I began to fight.

“…But…since there’s a lot more to this story than just this night in a ghetto apartment, I’ll cut it short. Black Mask was there…the old one, not my *babe*…and I ended up with two bullets in my back.” He sees the archer’s mouth open again and raises a hand to silent him. “That wasn’t the worst of it. By around 5...I found myself beaten and bruised and…I heard that fuck laughing above me and…I wanted to get up and beat the shit out of him, but I couldn’t… He left after a few minutes and gathering up all the strength I had, I left that building and walked down the street. Idly, I was heading for Gotham General and…then I blacked out. When I woke up…I was in a hospital bed with a man looking over me. He rescued me, got me a room and all without revealing my identity. It pretty much seemed to be a miracle.

“I didn’t notice at the time but…Tommy was the only person who would look at me in the hospital. He didn’t even tell me what happened until after a few days when my trust was fully in him and we had become friends. I remember him picking up this mirror with nervous fingers that were usually steady and…it was like a dream. Or a nightmare, I should say. I couldn’t speak as I looked at this reflection that seemed to be only half mine. I threw an arm out, heard the mirror hit the floor with a crash and…I realized I couldn’t go back to my life. I knew I was off the grid at this point, so I stayed that way.

“If the nurses and other doctors at the hospital couldn’t look at me, then why would Bruce and Dick…and you? I looked like…I belonged in a freak show. Black Mask pulled a number on me that I couldn’t forget, even after the surgery…” He sits back in the chair as he throws one leg over the other and sighs softly. “To put it mildly, the left side of my face was mutilated. I mean…the only favor Black Mask did for me was not pulling the skin off completely.”

Roy swallows and he’s sure that Jason hears it, even if he doesn’t move. He didn’t know, he never would have guessed. He figured Jay leaving would have been something ridiculous like “it wasn’t working out”, not “I was brutalized by a psychotic crime lord”. He sees Jay look at his watch out of the corner of his eye before he’s sitting up in the chair and running a hand through his black hair.

“Anyways, after all that trauma, I was affected emotionally. *Mentally*. Tommy knew I was sliding off the deep end, but he couldn’t afford to operate on me yet. I agreed to see a shrink about it, as long as they didn’t get to look at me. I spent those sessions hiding behind a screen and working studiously at all kinds of subjects from medicine to botany…anything Tommy brought me. I answered about as truthfully as I could to my psychologist’s questions and…with my own force of *will* I managed to get past all that. I knew, of course, that it was mostly in thanks to Tommy. He treated me like a normal human being when to everyone else I was just something fucked up to look at.

“I learned and learned and learned more until finally the time came when I could be operated on. It took a lot of surgeries and…a lot of time for Tommy, but he managed to get me looking like *this* again.” The brunette turns and smiles at Roy, expecting the man’s expression to soften at least a bit. But the archer’s stuck staring at him with wide green eyes, lost in the story of Jason’s past like it’s the best kind of fiction…though it’s all truth (but yes, Jay did leave out a few details that really weren‘t necessary for the archer to know). “So that’s…that’s why you never saw me and why I couldn’t say goodbye to anyone.”

“Jason--”

“Don’t start the whole ‘I would have loved you anyways’ bullshit. Even if you would have been able to, I wasn’t strong enough to take that. I was doing just fine with Tommy.”

Roy sighs, putting his hands together and running through what he’s just been told, over and over again, finding himself lost in wondering what Jason looked like in that hospital bed, trapped behind a screen, stuck--*forced* into his own little world. He wants to say that he’s sorry for doubting and…behaving badly, but at the same time, he knows Jason doesn’t want that (told Roy he didn’t want his pity). “Then…that’s it.”

“That’s all you need to know. You came here wondering why I didn’t return to you…and now you have your answers. …I think it’s time for you to leave.”

The redhead nods and stands, pulling on his jacket and heading for the door with guilt and fear and wealth of other emotions in his step. He can’t help himself when he looks back at Jason…and finds those blue eyes looking back at him, drilling into him and saying perfectly without words “goodbye and thanks for the memories”.
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Poison Oak