[ Maybe Jason's come to terms with own foolishness long before they met. What he thought was right always superseded what he thought was logical. That's why, when he was Robin, he pushed an abuser off a building. Why he pursued the Joker against all warnings. Why, eventually, he perished. But with all the "good" he's doing now, as the Red Hood, Jason senses that he's being rewarded for his disposition. That ultimately, the world bends in the same direction as his morality - a view less antiquated than Batman's, to be sure, in the pragmatic recognition of violence's necessity. More than the incapacitating blow that preserves life, but the killing strike.
To remind every evildoer of their precarity.
A sensation of vulnerability, of helplessness, that both Jason and C.C. know all too well. A deprivation that now unites them.
Physically, at least. Because for the first time, C.C. hesitates. Whatever apathy she hid behind is no longer as present-- nothing stands between her and Jason, who continues to hold her close. Who continues to keep her in his arms, unoffended by her resistance. By her enduring commitment to keeping walls up, protecting herself from being vulnerable. The idea here doesn't disappoint Jason. Her reaction is exactly why he holds her this way. That defense mechanism, were the roles reversed, isn't solely hers.
It would be his, too. ]
I haven't thought about this enough. The kind of shit that involves, well... this.
[ He cups one of her breasts for emphasis, as if incapable of broaching foreplay when he's already well in the thick of it. ]
But right now, it's all one and the same to me. What I do with my hands, and my heart.
[ Nothing he says prevents him from continuing, like she commands. The hand that just began fondling her stays there, as the other one sinks back between her legs. From this angle, there's still little he can achieve to go as deep as he wants to, but for now, enough of his fingers slip into her slit to suffice. Enough, that is, to cause a sensation that may instill in her a deeper yearning. His fingers curl against her walls for as much as he can reach, opposite hand still clutching her breast with a similar eagerness - palm giving unrelenting pressure with every press. ]
Doesn't mean I'm gonna stop, though. Like hell am I gonna stop.
no subject
To remind every evildoer of their precarity.
A sensation of vulnerability, of helplessness, that both Jason and C.C. know all too well. A deprivation that now unites them.
Physically, at least. Because for the first time, C.C. hesitates. Whatever apathy she hid behind is no longer as present-- nothing stands between her and Jason, who continues to hold her close. Who continues to keep her in his arms, unoffended by her resistance. By her enduring commitment to keeping walls up, protecting herself from being vulnerable. The idea here doesn't disappoint Jason. Her reaction is exactly why he holds her this way. That defense mechanism, were the roles reversed, isn't solely hers.
It would be his, too. ]
I haven't thought about this enough. The kind of shit that involves, well... this.
[ He cups one of her breasts for emphasis, as if incapable of broaching foreplay when he's already well in the thick of it. ]
But right now, it's all one and the same to me. What I do with my hands, and my heart.
[ Nothing he says prevents him from continuing, like she commands. The hand that just began fondling her stays there, as the other one sinks back between her legs. From this angle, there's still little he can achieve to go as deep as he wants to, but for now, enough of his fingers slip into her slit to suffice. Enough, that is, to cause a sensation that may instill in her a deeper yearning. His fingers curl against her walls for as much as he can reach, opposite hand still clutching her breast with a similar eagerness - palm giving unrelenting pressure with every press. ]
Doesn't mean I'm gonna stop, though. Like hell am I gonna stop.