“If you so much as think about biting, I’ll burn you up from the inside out,” Dr. Light growls from before him, and Jason twitches at the threat, although the warning isn’t making a whole lot of sense, “We don’t need you alive, little Robin.”
That’s all the warning he gets before the chair that he’s been tied to is knocked over, and Jason grunts in pain despite his gag as he lands heavily with his wrists trapped behind him, beneath both the chair and his own body-weight. His attempts to struggle are cut-off quickly, with one booted foot stomping down on his abdomen, the pressure lingering as Light leans into the stance for a few moments before relenting.
The relief is short-lived, however, as that foot is soon replaced by a weight that Jason can only assume is Light himself, his knees all but pinning Jason’s shoulders as he settles over his chest. The gag is tugged away from his mouth roughly, and Jason musters up a mix of saliva and blood to spit up at the other man, who grunts in disgust and then backhands him hard across the face, the force of the blow turning Jason’s head to the side.
“Fucking brat,” he snarls, and Jason bares his teeth when a hand closes around his jaw and turns him to face forward. He isn’t expecting the fingers of that hand to move up, forcing their way between his teeth and dragging his mouth open, and Jason feels his stomach clench and his blood run cold as he realises what’s happening. He makes a muffled noise of protest, and tries to snap his jaw shut to no avail.
“Remember what I said about biting, Robin,” he growls, and Jason twitches at the sound of a zipper being undone, realises far too belatedly that the clanging he’d heard shortly before all of this must have been Light removing his armour.
And, then, it’s happening, and Jason chokes, his eyes stinging as Light forces his way into his mouth, not even giving him a moment to adjust before he starts moving, his thrusts far from shallow. Jason is ashamed of the way tears slide down his temples despite his eyes being squeezed tightly shut, and he only hopes that the blindfold will keep Light from noticing.
He’s ashamed, too of the way he just lies there and takes it, but what else is he supposed to do? Jason has no doubts that Light’s threat was more of a promise, really, and Bruce wouldn’t want him to put his life on the line.
It doesn’t matter what they ask of you, Bruce had told him once, You comply. You keep yourself alive until I can get to you.
He’d already gone against that once, tried taking down Light and escaping, and look where that had gotten him. Was it always going to end like this, or was this Light’s revenge for Jason getting the upper hand on him?
He isn’t even sure that Bruce is actually coming, anyway. This isn’t Gotham, and he’s supposed to be Dick’s problem now, right? And, yeah, sure, Gar has probably already gone to the other Titans and told them what happened, but…
Well, it isn’t like any of them particularly like Jason, anyway.
Still, they’re heroes, so they’ll probably come, or at least try, but Jason doesn’t even know where Light and Deathstroke had dragged him off to, so how can he know if the trail will be easy for the Titans to follow?
A hand slaps almost gently at his cheek, and, deliriously, Jason classifies it as a love tap, like maybe Light knew Jason had zoned out on him, but then the hand moves, and Jason jolts when fingers pinch his nose shut. He struggles weakly, but between the ropes themselves and the way his hands are still trapped beneath him, it’s fruitless. Light groans above him, and snaps his hips harder, faster, and Jason can feel the pressure of suffocation rising in his head, knows his vision would be swimming if he could see anything at all.
The blindfold grows more and more damp as tears are forced out of him, his throat working uselessly against the intrusion keeping his airways blocked. He tries to turn his head away, but it does nothing to dislodge Light’s grip, and he uses his other hand to grasp Jason’s hair tightly, keeping him held in place.
He can’t breathe , and he’s going to die here, he’s going to die choking and gagging on some asshole’s cock, and it’s a fear Jason hasn’t had to think about in over a year, not since Mr. Wayne took him in off the streets, not since he finally trusted that it wasn’t why Mr. Wayne had taken him in.
Finally, when Jason can feel himself just on the verge of blacking out, Light releases his nose, allows Jason to greedily suck in as much blessed air as he can through it even as his mouth is still being used, and Jason hates the warm curl in his gut that feels like gratitude. The man above him chuckles, a dark sound that has the hairs on the back of Jason’s neck standing, and then his fingers are back, once again cutting off Jason’s air supply as he thrusts into his mouth several more times with deep, harsh strokes, and then stills, groaning lowly as he empties himself straight down Jason’s throat.
And Jason can feel his throat working, gagging over the cock that’s been stuffed down it, and he chokes as he tries to swallow Light’s release, relieved that he at least won’t have to weather the taste of it, like this. It feels like forever before Dr. Light finally pulls back, and Jason’s throat is raw and hurting as he inhales deeply only to end up choking and sputtering over thin air. He feels dazed as the gag is pulled up from where it had settled around his neck and stuffed back into his mouth.
“Guess I can see what the Bat keeps you kids around for,” Light says, and Jason’s stomach lurches with indignant rage, with the need to defend Bruce, but he can’t, and the moment passes, with the weight of Light’s body finally lifting from where it had settled over his chest. Then there’s a hand at the collar of his tunic, hauling him - and the chair - back upright, and Jason’s head spins as the chair legs hit solid ground.
“Hey, Wilson,” Light says, and Jason burns with the reminder that there had been a witness to his weakness, to his defilement, “You sure we have to ransom this one?”
Those are the last words Jason hears before a pair of noise-cancelling headphones are pushed over his head, cutting off all noise except his own strained breathing and rapid heartbeat.