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Jason wakes up and his first thought is "fuck, not again". His body hurts everywhere, his wrists are tied up at an awkward angle that makes it harder to snap the zip-ties without making some damage that he can't afford right now. You'd think that being the Red Hood would make one less of an attractive victim for a kidnapping... You would be wrong. Jason would be impressed by the dedication some of these people have, to successfully pull off abducting him, if it didn't pissed the hell out of him.
He opens his eyes and realizes after a second that he only has a domino mask on, his helmet nowhere to be seen. Jason feels sluggish, so that tells him someone managed to find a drug that worked on his metabolism. Which could mean that either whoever abducted him was really well prepared or they lucked out with some new tranquilizer for metas. His eyes are dry, they feel like there's sand scratching his eyeballs. His mouth feels like something died in it. Jason absolutely hates sedative hangovers.
He tries to move his head around to see the place they stashed him. It's a cage, not much bigger than a dog cage if Jason’s being honest. It's one in a long row of cages. All the others are empty. The corridor between the rows of cages looks clean, sterile clean. Then Jason finally brings his gaze back to the thing he has been avoiding since regaining consciousness. On the other side of the cage, not too far from where Jason is tied up, is Batman. Unlike Jason, the Bat isn't restrained. He is just unconscious, laid in an awkward pile of limbs, like someone threw him there without much care.
Jason's mind runs through the facts. His helmet and weapons are gone, Batman’s weapons are also probably gone, but whoever abducted them didn't take off his domino or Batman’s cowl. So. He has no idea what that means. Why would someone (or a group of people?) get both Batman and Red Hood in a vulnerable position and not take advantage to reveal their identities? Of course, the fact that Batman still had his cowl didn't mean someone hadn't peeked and then put it back. But then, why? Why not just take it off? Well, not really important. Jason is legally dead and doesn't have a civilian identity to care about. And Bruce is a big boy, if his identity gets revealed, it's whatever. It is not Jason's problem.
What is his problem at the moment are his restrained wrists. He can force the zip-ties until they break, but that will likely hurt him and he needs his hands in good condition for when he gets out of this shitty dog cage and kills the assholes who got him. And now that he thinks about it, he doesn't remember how did they got him. He remembers patrolling the Alley, but no emergency, nothing out of the ordinary. Then suddenly he was waking up here, wherever here is.
He hears a grunt coming from the Batman pile on the other side of the cage. Thank fuck, at least the Bat is free, so he can help Jason out of this annoying restrains. His hands are numb already and it's pissing him off even more. It looks like Batman will take his sweet time to assess the situation, but Jason doesn't have the patience for this.
"Finally! C'mon, old man. They let you untied, so help me get this shitty ties off."
Jason is annoyed, he wants to move his fucking arms.
"Hood–" Bruce starts, but Jason cuts him off before any lectures can be delivered.
"Come on, B" Jason wriggles his fingers bringing attention to his position once again. "I don't remember how I got here, certainly have no idea how you got here, and my fingers are numb. I would like to not hurt my wrists or hands unnecessarily, thanks."
Batman turns his head to Jason’s direction and the only sign that he is startled is the minute tension on his shoulders. Barely noticeable, to anyone not fluent in Batman. Bruce gives him an assessing gaze, but does get up, as much as he can in the tiny cage anyway, and break Jason's restraints off.
They don't have any time to talk or plan for an escape, before hearing a sound coming from speakers in the corridor's walls. Someone clears their throat.
"Welcome! Welcome! Old friends and new spectators!" The voice was cheery. "Tonight we have a treat for you!"
There is a pause, and then the voice comes back.
"In tonight's show we have him! The man! The legend! The Dark Knight himself... Batman!"
The mockery, and cartoonish presenter voice, grates on their ears. But, in Jason's experience, when one couldn't just kill the asshole, letting them monologue is an almost surefire way of knowing all their plan and how to stop them.
After another brief pause, the voice continues.
"And on the other side we have a relatively new player! He has annoyed many members of our audience since appearing in Gotham! The Red Hood!"
Okay, Jason thinks, if this is being transmitted somehow, and this guy isn't just crazy. We might have a what? A fight ring? A villain-targeted fight ring? Because what the fuck else would they want with him and Bruce other than making them fight to death or some other bullshit. It was very well known that Batman and Red Hood weren't exactly friends. Even if Jason has worked with the Bats on extreme occasions. Jason still doesn't allow Bats in his territory. Everyone on the streets knows that they might have achieved some form of truce, but they still aren't really friendly towards each other. Making them fight makes sense.
"But tonight isn't just about that, tonight will be different! Because tonight we have a special treat!" The man keeps going. "One of our esteemed patrons let us know a delightful piece of news!"
There is a dramatic pause before he continues again.
"It seems that our newest player isn't all that new at all!" Jason doesn't like where this is going. "Red Hood, the scourge of Gotham, started his career as Robin! The boy wonder!"
There is a longer pause at this point. It makes Jason more and more convinced that there really is an audience. Although he would really prefer if their captor is just delusional.
"So tonight the game will be a little different from our usual." The presenter's voice is full of dark mischief.
Oh that doesn't sound good, Jason thinks.
He exchanges a look with B, but Batman seems to be looking for a way to leave the cell, which Jason probably should be doing too. But he's got a really bad feeling about all of this growing on the pit of his stomach.
"Tonight we won't be watching if Daddy Bats and his former Little Bird can beat each other to death. According to our source, Daddy Bats has absolutely no problem in trying to kill his Little Bird at all!"
When another predictable pause comes Jason is already staring at Bruce, because... Because, as far as Jason knows, Bruce never told anyone what happened between them and the Joker on that warehouse. So... their captor's "source" could only be one person. His vision was going green. If Bruce had just let him kill the fucking clown this would not be happening. Again, Batman’s incapacity of just letting that fucking lunatic die, is going to make others suffer. Is going to make Jason suffer.
"So, instead, we thought of a different type of show for you. If Daddy Bats has no problem hurting his Little Bird, then we want to see how much he can love him!" It's announced cheerfully.
There is silence after those words. Jason's head is blank, because what? He was expecting having to fight Batman. That was familiar. They could beat each other up a bit and then when their captor, or captors, made a mistake they would fuck them up and leave. Simple. Easy. Probably. Not... Not whatever the fuck this guy is implying. Because Jason's mind refuses to make sense of what was just insinuated.
Finally their captor decides to address them instead of the–maybe real, maybe imagined–audience.
"Hello Batman, Red Hood. The rules of the game are this: One, you aren't allowed to refuse to play; Two, you have a time limit to progress with things and there will be deadly consequences if you try to stall; Three, you will be released after finishing the game unless, of course, you decide to be uncooperative then we will make sure your deaths will be slow and painful... and our viewers still get a interesting show. Now shall we begin?"
"What game?" B is already asking, almost before their host finishes his spiel.
"The game is simple! Since we have on good authority that trying to kill Red Hood is not a problem for you, we decided a death match would not bring enough drama. So the first challenge of the game is: Batman needs to make his former Little Bird feel good! You can only pass to the second level after making Red Hood come at least once! Aren't we generous?" The man asks with a deranged laugh. It's not the clown, Jason is sure. But it still sends shivers down his spine.
"You don't even need to hurt anyone! I hear you hero types aren't a fan of killing... Even though Red Hood does seem to be an exception for you." He finishes with a mock pensive tone, and Jason refuses to let some new wannabe Joker affect him. Even though he had similar thoughts since the Batarang thing.
"And if we refuse?" Bruce asks.
Their host makes an exaggerated pondering sound.
"Well... If you refuse, we have a very nice gas prepared that will guarantee we have the show we want anyway, or you both die, slowly, in a very nasty manner! The choice is yours!"
"That's not really a choice. Why are you doing this? What's your objective here?" Batman keeps talking.
"The choice is how much you want to hurt your former Little Bird... And why? Well. The audience demands entertainment! Weren't you paying attention?! The clock is ticking, you have five minutes to start, let the game begin!"
To Jason, their objective seems simple. Humiliation. If they run some kind of fucked up villain entertainment show, then it makes sense. Pick up heros and vigilantes, make them fight to death. Kill or let themselves be killed. Guaranteed drama. Or, in case that's not possible, sexual humiliation works. And Bruce insists Jason is wrong when his solution for these kind of psychos is a bullet to the head.
Batman turns to Jason after a few seconds where it was clear their host wasn't going to talk more, for now. Bruce and Jason stare at each other, and Jason doesn't know what is going through Bruce's mind. He looks composed as always. Jason sucks in a breath and prepares himself for whatever he will have to endure for the next however long it takes for them to form a plan and get out.
"Hood? You have been unusually silent." Bruce's tone is carefully devoid of emotions. But Jason's head isn't totally there, not really.
The last time he had to fuck someone, or let anyone fuck him, out of necessity had been when he was living in the streets, as a kid. It was dangerous, but also easy money, pulling tricks. Not something he did willingly really, but sometimes when his belly had been empty for too long, or the night was too cold... Well he was a survivor. He did what he had to.
That hadn't been necessary after Batman picked him up, even after he died and crawled out of his grave, even in the League. His hands were trembling, just a little, barely noticeable. Jason felt like his blood had turned into ice, he couldn't think. Batman was suddenly right in front of him.
"Hood? Are you alright?"
He wanted to laugh. Was he alright? The man he once considered calling "dad", who had first replaced him, then chosen the clown over him, and now would probably have to fuck him with God knows how many assholes probably watching... And B wanted to know if he was okay! A little hysterical bubble of laughter scaped him, before he swallows it down and presses his lips firmly.
"It's not like I never done this before. Also, can't be worse than digging out of my own grave. You probably won't give me brain damage. And since apparently they don't want us to fight, there's probably minimal chance of another slit throat.” It's what he ends up answering, full of bravado, hoping his smirk looks more real than it feels. Jason feels sick.
He thinks he hears Bruce's breath hitchs, but that's probably wishful thinking. Batman knows he came back from the dead. The silence stretches and he sees Bruce opening his mouth to say something, but then they hear the first warning sound. It's a loud and jarring sound. They are out of time.
Jason tenses. Bruce exhales heavily. They can't really say no. Doesn't matter how much neither of them wants to do this. Jason watches in slow-motion, Batman extending his hand to him. An invitation, an order, an ask for permission? Who knows. Jason stares at the hand for what feels like forever, but he knows, just as well as Bruce that–unless someone rescues them right this instant, they don't have any other choice. Jason takes Bruce's hand.
Bruce tries to pull Jason closer, but he doesn't give. His body is tense and he can't move. He can feel as Bruce takes in a breath and suddenly he's seemingly impossibly close to Jason.
“We can make this quick, J–” His voice is low, and unaffected. “Hood. Can I touch you?”
Jason wants to laugh, hysterically, but what comes out it's a harsh breath. Jason is sure he's crushing Bruce's hand.
“What choice do we have? Just get on with it.”
Batman gives another controlled breath. And Jason hates him. Hates him for always being in control, hates him for not being affected when Jason is freaking the fuck out.
Jason feels one of Batman’s hands work his suit pants open, and startles when naked skin touches his body. He didn’t see Batman taking off his gloves. How did he miss that? He thinks he might be losing time, and that is important he knows, but then there's a hand on his soft cock. Batman’s hand. Bruce's hand. And reality starts to go wonky. His breathing is harsh and fast, but he's still soft. A smooth voice tells him to try to relax, and he tries. He does. But it doesn't work really.
Suddenly there's another hand on the back of his neck, pulling his forehead gently onto a shoulder, the smooth voice tells him that he's okay. He's going to be okay.
“Breath, Jaylad. Breath for me.” Oh, it's Bruce. He used to do the same when Jason had nightmares as a kid.
Jason takes a deep shuddering breath and Bruce still has one hand working Jason's cock, while the other massages his neck and shoulders. Jason's cock is finally getting on with the program.
“Well well, don't be shy! We are an entertainment network here! Show the Little Bird to the cameras!”
Jason’s is started by the voice of their abductor.
“We are doing what you told us to do.” Batman’s growls. A shiver runs through Jason's whole body and his cock hardens a bit more. He's mortified.
“And now I'm telling you, that the audience wants to see!” Jason does his best to block the man's voice. He doesn’t want to be here. He wants to disappear in his mind until this is over.
He doesn't really pay attention to what Bruce is doing, until he realizes they are sat down on the cage. His back to Bruce's chest. His legs opened, cock out in Bruce's hand, exposed. Jason thinks he makes a noise, he definitely tries to close his legs. But he is stopped by one of Bruce's hands. Also out of the gloves. Jason doesn't know why his brain fixates on that detail. Like it's important. Bruce's naked big hands, long crooked fingers. His fingers flex on Jason’s thighs. And then let go. Bruce's hand travels back to Jason’s neck. Cup his cheek and gently pull Jason’s face to Bruce's own neck. He's… hiding Jason. Giving him the illusion of privacy. Part of Jason wants to be angry. Wants to tense and push Bruce away. But another part of him still has some fragmented memories of Bruce cuddling and tucking him in when he was small and breakable and just had a nightmare, and the part of his brain that wants him to survive this jumps at the memories of comfort.
“It's going to be okay Jaylad. I'm not going to hurt you.” Bruce's voice is very low, a whisper only for Jason. He does his best to relax.
Bruce's hand on his cock starts moving again, it's a bit dry, but now that Jason is actually hard, precome is steadily leaking. Making Bruce's moves smoother. His hand is so hot and big, Jason knows he is not really giant, but he is not small either. Bruce's hand engulfs his whole length though, makes him feel smaller and more vulnerable. And that should make this all worse, but Jason's brain is all fucked up and it actually helps him relax.
Jason's mouth is open and he's panting against Batman's neck guard. Tiny sounds are coming out involuntarily. He's trying his best to not be loud, but it's hard. He's not the most experienced and between being Robin, dying young, being brain dead and then trained by the League, just to come back to Gotham and be focused on his Red hood work… There really wasn't much time for hook-ups. And someone else's hands feel completely different than his own. Especially someone as big as Bruce.
“That's it Jaylad, that's it. Let yourself enjoy this and it will be over soon. I'll take care of you.”
And part of Jason wanted to tell him to shut up and stop lying, but a bigger part of him was screaming for him to take the comfort. He could feel himself getting there. His body going taut, his hands gripping on Bruce's armored thighs. And he was coming. His whole body breaking in shivers.
“That's it, let go. Good boy. Good job.”
“Bravo! Bravo!” The sudden clapping coming from the speakers startles them.
Jason feels Bruce tensing, his hand still covered in come presses on Jason cock reflexively while his other hand pulls Jason's face more against him. Hiding. Bruce is… Trying to hide Jason. To… Protect him. Whether consciously or not. And Jason doesn't know what to do with that information. Especially because he is also tensing and all he wants is to be covered and out of here. He came in Bruce's hand. What the fuck. He didn’t… Jason knows how this works. Involuntary bodily response. It doesn't mean anything. And yet. He feels vulnerable. And a million other things he cannot identify right now, so he chooses the easier emotion he can reach. Anger.
“You got your show, fucker. Now let us out.” Jason’s is scrambling out of Batman's lap and closing his fly while avoiding to even look at the Bat.
“Now, now, I did told you both that this was the first challenge.” The asshole's voice took a condescending tone and Jason was seeing green. When he killed this fucker he would forgo his guns. He would make his death slow and painful. He would castrate the the sick fuck before making him beg for death.
“This was beautiful, well done! The second challenge, is to see how much can the Little Bird's throat take!” He announces with a laugh.
And Jason… Jason will take the odds of this deadly gas. His vision is green green green. And suddenly he is throwing himself at the bars of the cage, kicking and trying to find a hinge, a weak spot. Something, anything.
He feels Batman trying to immobilize him and fighting his hold is automatic, they're struggling against each other, and Batman is talking. It takes a few seconds for Jason to register what he is saying.
“It's over, Jaylad. You're hurting yourself, please, it's over. Listen to the speakers. It's over. It's over. You're okay. There won't be more. Nothing else is going to happen.”
It's… Over? But the fucker just said…
“Everything okay over there B?” It’s Dick's voice coming from the speakers.
“We're fine Nightwing. The criminal?” Batman says.
“Batgirl and Red Robin are keeping an eye on him” Dick pauses for a second, and then continues. “Oracle told me to say: It wasn’t live. There's recording equipment on. But… whatever he wanted, it wasn’t showing live anywhere else.”
Jason's muscles want to relax in relief, but he forces himself to keep them tensed. He shoves the Bat more firmly and is let go.
“Get us out of here Dickwing.” He keeps his back to Batman, eyes firmly looking forward.