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Something echoes as it falls somewhere deep inside the cave. A clank of metal on stone that tells Jason someone else is in here with them. Who is anyone's guess. Someone who belongs: Alfred, Dick, Tim, Cass, Steph... so many others. Someone who doesn't. Someone who rarely visits: Clark or Wally or... the list goes on.
The list doesn't fucking matter, because all that matters is Bruce. Bruce behind him, all warm, hard muscle and hitching breath. Bruce deep inside him, all velvet steel and desperation. Bruce, whose hand is working quick and frantic beneath them, jerking Jason's cock in double-time to the thrusts he's giving into Jason's body.
Jason still isn't sure how, exactly, he finally earned his spot here. How his fantasies came true and he's here, splayed chest-first over the computer table, Bruce's abandoned case files open all over the screen, the keyboard somewhere in the floor and the mouse half stuck under his left pec, moving jerkily on the screen in time with Bruce's thrusts. But he's here. Getting himself properly railed in the goddamned Batcave. And Bruce is willing and not high on some Ivy concoction or drunk or anything else. Jason checked. Because Bruce, willing and wanting, Bruce touching him all the ways he wanted to be touched, kissing him how he wanted to be kissed... it's enough to make him worry about those things, even through the haze of absolute desire.
Bruce is clean. So is Jason. So is the air in the cave. So Jason is here, clinging to the body-warm metal of the computer desk, fingertips white with his grip, his mouth hanging open, silent shouts desperately wanting out as Bruce nails him, right in the sweet spot. Again and again until Jason can't see shit. Until his cock is squirting with every thrust even though his orgasm hasn't arrived yet. Until Bruce is making obscene noises and his hips are jarring forward and he's buried inside Jason and pumping him full.
Jason cums like that. In the throes of being filled by Bruce's spunk. Even with Bruce's hand having stilled on his cock in the desperate need of his own orgasm's grip. Cums all over Bruce's fingers and the floor between their feet.
Somewhere deep in the cave, he hears a ratcheting gasp and he knows. Knows they were being watched. Knows someone else is cumming. And, honestly, it's still some obscene part of his fantasies, to be caught with Bruce, like this, with no denial possible.
Bruce's hips jerk a few more times and he leans over Jason hard to rumble in his ear, to whisper the forbidden knowledge that someone else is in here. He sounds as turned on as Jason feels about it and Jason thinks, not for the first time, that they're more alike than either of them will every let on.
Bruce pulls free and Jason stands there, cargo pants around his knees, hole leaking Bruce's spunk back out as he arches his back, displaying his ass. Stands there and lets Bruce's fingers swipe through the mess and play. Easing the muscles of his rim, coating him in cum, doing it until Jason's hard again and Bruce is kneeling behind him.
He isn't sure what to expect. Not until Bruce has his balls in his mouth and he's sucking, mouth so full. His hand is pumping Jason's cock and Jason swears he can hear someone jacking off that isn't the same speed as Bruce's hand on him. If it's Bruce or their mystery watcher, Jason isn't sure. Doesn't care, because it's hot as sin to think of them still being watched. Of someone staring at Bruce sucking his nuts and jacking him off.
Jason cums obscenely soon. Cums with a shout he can't hold back and goes up on his tiptoes, straining upward against the desk, trembling as he unloads.
When he's empty and when he's managed to turn around, he finds Bruce still kneeling, cum striping the floor in front of his still partly hard cock.
Jason kneels. Kisses him because he can. Listens to the sound that is still definitely someone else getting off. And when he stands, he makes sure he leaves his cock out as he heads toward the showers. Gives them the rest of their show, whoever they are. He pauses by the locker room entryway and listens to the soft huff and grunt of someone cumming. Smirks to himself and slips inside.
He still isn't sure how he got here, but he'll be damned if he isn't thankful.