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It takes Jason a little while to figure it out. When Damian says he's all right with the costume change, that it will be an interesting challenge, Todd, sort of like working with you, Jason snorts and shrugs it off.
He gets a little dry-mouthed when Damian comes out of the bathroom, short black skirt and heels, tiny little t-shirt, black eyeliner and his mouth all done up in red. But he figures, well, the kid's a professional, and he wipes the little smudge of red from under Damian's mouth and says, "You ready?"
So yeah, between keeping an eye on Damian and doing his job, it takes Jason a bit to realize that – it's so not just the challenge.
Damian spends the night batting his pretty lashes, laughing high and breathy, leaning too far into the thugs they're investigating. And it's okay, it's totally in character when Jason drags Damian back in by the arm, hard, to try and get him to stay put.
He's just not sure he can say the same thing about the devious fucking grin Damian gives him, like he knows exactly what he's doing to Jason.
Halfway through the night – halfway through the night after Damian's been sitting on his lap for most of it, cuddled up against him while they sip champagne with a bunch of scumbags – Jason makes some excuse to walk away. He drags Damian along with him, pushes him back into a corner.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Damian asks.
"Challenging myself," Jason says. He keeps one hand wrapped around Damian's wrist, touches his stomach with the other, that little strip of skin above Damian's skirt.
"Jason," Damian says, "what –"
"Admit it," Jason says. He runs his hand down Damian's hip, fingertips tracing his leather skirt. "You get off on this."
He expects Damian to blush, to shove him back and tell him to go to hell, but Damian just looks up at him through long dark lashes and says, "So do you. I've been sitting on your lap all night, Todd. Did you think I didn't notice?"
"My bad," Jason says, and Damian shrugs, licks his lips. Jason wants to do obscene things to that mouth, wants to get red lipstick everywhere. He reaches under Damian's skirt, and Damian takes a sharp breath that Jason only just hears over the music.
"This okay?" Jason asks, and Damian scowls at him. "Did you miss the part where I sat on your lap all night?"
"Yeah," Jason says. "But that was just for show." Damian just looks at him, typical Todd, are you actually this dense expression. "Ah," Jason says, grinning. "Well then."
Jason tilts his head down, and Damian raises his, licks his lips and says, "You've got fifteen minutes, Todd. Then we have to get back to work."
"Deal," Jason says, and then he crushes his mouth to Damian's, fucks his tongue inside and tastes pink champagne. Damian grabs him, grips the back of his hair and pulls himself up. He wraps one leg around Jason and Jason feels a stiletto heel brush his back.
"Christ," Jason says. "You got any idea how fuckin' good you look?"
Damian shrugs. "My father's an attractive man, and my mother is quite beautiful. It stands to reason that I'd be –"
"Nevermind," Jason says. "Shut up." He kisses Damian again, chuckles when Damian bites down hard on his bottom lip. Then he gets his hand underneath Damian's fishnets, his little silk panties, and Damian's nails dig into his head hard.
"Fifteen minutes, huh?" Jason asks, stroking Damian slow, smearing precome over the head of his dick. "That's not nearly enough time for everything I want to do to you."
Damian bucks into him, balances on one heel while he keeps the other wrapped around Jason. "So pick a favorite and save the rest for later."
"Fuck," Jason says. He drags his mouth along Damian's neck, biting down hard on his collarbone, grabs Damian's ass with both hands and pushes him flush against the wall.
"We get done with this," Jason says in Damian's ear, "And I'm gonna fuck you 'til you forget your name. But for now –" he lowers Damian back down to the floor, then slides to his knees.
Damian stares at him, mouth open, his hand still resting absently on Jason's head while Jason lifts his skirt. Jason mouths at Damian's tights, soaks his panties with his tongue until Damian says, "Do it," and Jason chuckles, squeezes Damian's ass and frees his dick.
All night, Jason's watched Damian walk around in three-inch heels like they're sneakers, but when he gets his mouth on Damian's dick Damian's legs start to shake like a colt.
Jason pulls off, says, "Wrap your legs around me. I'll hold you up," and Damian stares at him a second until Jason helps him out, puts one of Damian's legs on his shoulder and then Damian lifts the other.
Then Jason moves back in, and he wishes the club wasn't so loud, wishes he could hear every little hitch of Damian's breath as he sucks him off, bobbing his head so fast his jaw's going to hurt for days from it.
Damian's heels dig into him, and when Jason plays with his balls and reaches back to rub against his hole, Damian grips Jason's head with both his hands and shouts loud enough that someone surely hears them, even if no one cares. Jason hums around his dick, sucks him off to the pulse of the music until Damian whimpers and floods Jason's mouth with his come.
Jason stays there a minute, sucking Damian clean, looking up at him. His eyeliner's smudged from sweat and there's lipstick all down his chin, and when Jason teases his hole again Damian all but stabs him with his heels.
He finally pulls off, lets Damian go and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He's so hard he thinks he's going blind from it, but it's been fifteen minutes and they have to get back.
When Jason turns to go, though, Damian stops him with a hand on his wrist. Jason leans down, licks some of the red from around his mouth.
"Time's up," Jason reminds him, and Damian follows him back to their table, but he sits right back down on Jason's lap and while everyone else talks business, Damian grinds against him, all slow little movements of his hips, until Jason bites Damian's shoulder and comes in his pants like some teenager at prom.
Damian's just going to have to stay right here the rest of the night.