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Jason is hot. In almost every sense there is. No surprises there, as it's sweltering enough to make even water sweat, yet his condition is less because of the weather and more because of his current circumstances.
He's fixated on Dick's glistening skin, watching perspiration bead at his temples, roll down his cheeks and hang precariously from his chin. Some beads drip onto Jason, mixing with his own, while others continue their journey down his neck, gathering at the collarbone before spilling down his chest.
Jason licks his lips, tasting his own sweat, staying perfectly still.
Dick's gaze is trained intently on Jason and it'd look fucking goofy if it weren't so unbearably sexy. And, you know, if he weren't holding a switchblade to Jason's chest.
Well, Jason sort of invited that when he tried to get rid of Dick's ugly paisley shirt by taking a knife to it – while Dick was still very much adorned by it. He no longer is, so Jason counts that as a win, even if Dick flipped the script on him. Or because he did. If Jason hadn't wanted this to happen, it wouldn't have.
He's starting to feel the tension ebb, however.
"Earth to Dick," he says. "Did you fall asleep? Because I might."
"Where to start, where to start," Dick muses out loud and traces the runnels of sweat between Jason's abs with the tip of the knife. If Jason closed his eyes, he could pretend it was blood running down his sides.
"Look, it's not like I'm a pristine canvas to begin with. There's nothing to ruin here."
"Oh, I'm not worried about that." Dick grins. "I'm looking for an unmarked patch of skin, but that's more of an impossible endeavor."
"You're just not looking hard enough."
Dick sniggers, flicks the knife shut and rolls it across his knuckles like a goddamn coin trick. A second later, he's flicked it open again and tickles the skin below Jason's navel with it.
Jason suddenly feels lightheaded as all the blood is rushing south.
"Not exactly what I meant, but sure, castrate me and see how you like that."
"You'd let me."
Close. So close. Jason hisses when Dick scrapes the tip against the inside of his thigh. Fuck. Jason's cock is fucking throbbing as though it liked the idea.
Jason nearly jumps when there's light pressure against his balls, like a line being drawn with a pen, catching on the damp skin and continuing up toward the base of his cock. He's close to bursting now, although he hopes for pressure relief in a form that doesn't involve blood-letting at the source.
He wants to say something tough, but instead, an embarrassing cry escapes him just as the knife brushes a very sensitive vein.
Dick's smile is angelic. It becomes even more so when the knife crests the ridge and Jason can see the handle teasing the tip.
"Shit." Jason deflates, equal parts relieved and aroused. "I can't believe I bought that."