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Birds Eye View

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Damian has passed the bat computer a thousand times, coming in after a long night, headed out at dusk. It’s a plethora of different video feeds in a grid playing all the darkest corners of Gotham. Unless there’s something specific going on, like a mugging or a robbery or a car chase, they’re pretty boring. They typically run regardless of who’s in the cave, and there’s normally someone down here at all times. Right now, though, it’s just Damian. 

If anything happens, most of the people in their circle of vigilantes in Gotham have specific set ups to alert them so they can intervene. Running police scanners, video feeds, and social media keywords keeps them on top of the meat of the crime. It happens often enough despite the looming threat of The Bats to deter people. 

Damian thinks there’s something in the water.

Tonight, though, puttering around the cave working on something, passing the computer, something catches his unconscious mind. For a moment, he keeps walking, and then he processes what he thinks he saw and stops to turn around and look.

In the lower left quarter of the screen, there’s a video feed inside a building. There’s plenty, really, of warehouses and very important offices across Gotham. This, though, is a view of a bedroom. Damian doesn’t remember this ever being here before. There are two bodies on the bed in the bedroom, but Damian can’t make out who they are, or what building this is with the feed so small.

Shifting in front of the chair centered in front of the massive layout, he navigates and pulls the feed up larger. He realizes slowly that it’s a compressed folder of a handful different camera options inside the Titans Tower. Often enough Grayson and Drake are in and out of the tower, along with Bruce’s vigilance in keeping an eye on a good number of their allies. Before this, it was because he was wary of Deathstroke’s daughter. But since, the feeds haven’t really given much. What happens in the tower is typically mundane, as it’s a good space for the team, as much as the roster changes, to relax and plan.

Flipping through the few options for the Titan’s Tower itself, Damian comes back to the feed that had caught his eye, and he enlarges it to better see. The feed’s quality improves and it takes only a moment for Damian to realize he’s looking at Timothy and Kon-El.

That’s Tim and Kon, laying on- he can only really assume Tim’s bed, knowing Bruce, and seeing the layout of the room with an intricate personal computer set up with three monitors on the far wall. More than that, though, Kon has his head in Tim’s chest, caging him down against the bed, and Tim’s fingers are in his hair and clawing along his shoulders and arms. He lifts a leg to hook it against Kon’s hips to bring him down closer and hair on the back of Damian’s neck stands on end.

He hits a few more keys to lighten the footage, see if he can’t make out more details, and while doing so, hits the audio. Echoing loud and sudden through the cave, is a hard sucking sound, and moaning, and Damian smashes the same key to shut it up. The sound rings through his head and through the depths of the cave around him. A cool rush runs through him and he bites his lips as his stomach clenches at the rush of blood to his cock.

Lifting a hand to pinch his eyes, Damian peeks over his fingers at the screen again before setting to dig through his bag for his headphones.

When he’s finally settled in, with headphones in, the audio linked only to his own wireless earbuds, he gingerly sets himself in the chair in front of the vast monitors, and when he undoes the button and fly on his jeans, he stifles a soft sigh of relief before pulling his dick free, already mostly hard as he’d tried to situate himself without stealing glances, but rushing, just this side of frantic, thinking he might miss something.

The thought he’s watching this, and it’s happening in real time, and neither Tim nor Kon knows he’s watching- it’s DIRTY. It’s sick. And it only makes the temperature rising in him climb that much faster. Damian turns the audio back on, acutely aware if it were to still play audio outwards, but it doesn’t. The suckling sound and hard breathing are only for him, now. Swallowing hard, Damian strokes himself painfully slowly so he can take in the scene.

Kon moves his mouth off Tim’s tit, taking a heavy breath, and reaches to squeeze. Tim jolts and groans, baring his teeth a little, “Alright, you brute, have some care.”

Huffing a laugh, Kon licks a stripe along the curve of his tits as he laps up the milk he’d coaxed, licking his lips and swallowing hard. He looks blissed out on the taste and feel of Tim’s full breasts in his hands. Tim’s face and chest are flushed. 

Tim’s lactating.

The realization makes Damian stroke himself a little faster, cock twitching heavily in his grip. He bites into the leather of his other glove to tug it off and toss it up onto the console with the first so he can use both hands, one to stroke his length and thumb the shiny pre beading at the ruddy head, and the other to hold the base, squeezing and massaging the thicker skin that will stretch when his knot inflates. He rolls his eyes and almost sets his head back before there’s a slap of skin that snaps his attention.

Tim swats Kon’s arm and Kon ducks his head with a laugh, pressing himself into the curve of Tim’s neck. He rubs his cheek and nuzzles at the corner of Tim’s jaw, and Tim melts a little. They scent for a few long moments and Damian strokes himself slower, staring with a sense of longing squeezing his lungs. The dynamic that Tim and Kon share is not limited to the two of them. Most packs and branch packs have intricate bonds with one another, and to see something so TENDER- Damian is jealous.

Their hair is disheveled and just as Damian’s really taking in what happens, the two are moving onto other things, bigger things.

When Kon sits up, he runs his hands down Tim’s body, slow and heavy, streaking just a little milk leaking from his swollen nipples down his chest and over his rounded out belly. His hands settle on Tim’s thighs, Tim’s ankles hooked around his lower back, and Damian can’t help the low groan seeing Drake’s body on full display. His belly is full with a litter, and the fact that Damian isn’t even sure who sired them only makes him fist his cock harder. It could have been Kent, it could have been Allen, it could have been Sandsmark- He wishes it had been him. He wants to fill Tim full with his pups, to bend him over and pump him full, and milk his leaking tits just like Kon is-

“S-shit-” Damian stills his hands, feeling the throb of his dick in his hands. Shifting in the chair, he sets his feet up on the edge of the console and shimmies his pants and underwear down off his ass, his eyes never leaving the screen. He pushes them to his knees and cups his balls, squeezing and rolling them in his hand, thinking about Tim lavishing them with attention, begging for his seed.

He would never, and Damian knows that full well, but he can dream. There’s no harm in lusting after a mewling, begging mess.

On the screen though, Kon undoes his own pants, belt buckles clinking, and Tim slides his hands up under his shirt, pushing it up so that Kon has no choice but to lift his arms and help Tim pull his shirt off, tossed to the side carelessly. Damian wouldn’t doubt those are his pups in there with how careless the Kryptonian always is. For a man like Clark, his genetic clone is a fucking moron.

When the shirt is off, Tim runs his hands all along Kon’s chest and shoulders and tugs him in for a kiss, hungry and hot. And then Tim shifts their weight and flips the two of them over, leaving Kon on his back on the bed staring up and him. He reaches behind his head to pull the hair tie off and shakes his hair loose. Damian knows all too well his hair is almost always silky soft and smelling of subtle sandalwood. With it hanging down in their faces like a curtain, it obscures some things, but gives the entire situation an extra layer of privacy that just cranks hard on the fact Damian definitely shouldn’t be watching.

Blinking quickly and letting out a slow breath, Damian shifts and squirms and bares his teeth at the screen a little. If they would just get on with it, he could too. If they don’t hurry it up, he’s liable to get caught. Alfred can be just as stealthy as his father when he wants to be.

With Tim shifting and settling himself onto Kon’s lap, he pats his thigh and Kon lifts his legs a little to plant his feet on the bed, giving Tim his thighs to lean back against while he ruts their hips together. Kon arches and squirms, feeling up Tim’s thighs and hips. His hand moves and feels over Tim’s round belly and Damian clenches hard, thinking about how warm and soft his skin must be. His eyes roll back a little thinking about feeling Tim’s pups move and squirm.

Damian hangs his head and works himself to a tight pull, and eases off, edging himself just a little to get through this snail’s pace. When he looks back up, Tim is out of his pants, and Kon’s pants are pushed down to his ankles, leaving the both of them very nearly bare. Tim leans forward to curtain their kisses again, and Kon’s hands fixate on his swollen tits again while Tim reaches behind himself to hold Kon’s cock and angle it so that when he eases back a little, shifting his hips, he slides down onto his length, nice and slow. Damian can’t see from the angle the camera is at with their legs and hips, but he can’t help but imagine it’s girthy- heavy and leaking thick pre-

Not as impressive as his, of course, but Kon-El is a big guy, and an alpha at that, so Damian can’t imagine he doesn’t have a dick entirely capable of filling a sweet omega with hot seed.

When Tim is settled in Kon’s lap, his cock probably impossibly deep, jamming tight against his overfull womb, he leans forward to pull his hips up and off before back and down, setting his own pace and fucking himself, Kon nothing but a toy beneath him. His angle though, makes it easier for him to run his fingers through Kon’s curls and guide him from a heated kiss down to allow Kon to suck on his nipples again. The pleased sigh Kon whines says just how much he loves either the act, or the taste, but Damian’s mouth is dry from panting thinking about both. And the hot streams between Kon’s fingers and down his wrist from where he’s squeezing and pinching whichever nipple he’s not lavishing with attention.

Tim has Kon eating out of the palm of his hand, and in a way, that makes Damian that much hotter. Thinking about Tim as a subservient omega begging for his cock is nice, but there’s something thrilling about the idea of Tim taking what he wants and Damian absolutely desperate to give his pretty mate all he wants.

When Damian starts to feel his own knot swelling, he bites his lip and commits- craving the feeling of release, and not at all thinking about the consequences. Tim pulls his hair out of his face and Damian can see the sheen of sweat on his brow and the dark of his eyes and the rush of blush across his cheeks and down his chest where Kon is happily, blissfully enjoying himself, and Damian knots his own hand with a muffled, strangled, wounded sound.

It echoes quieter through the caves with as much as he tried to quiet himself, and he breathes hard and hot as he tugs on his knot, like a tight cunt, spilling over his own hand and onto the edge of the chair, and subsequently, the floor as well, cum pooling hot and thick.

When he finds something resembling clear consciousness, he’s unloaded an entire knotting’s worth of cum onto the floor and it’s drying tacky and thick to his fingers. Looking up at the camera feed, Tim and Kon are laying facing each other on the bed. Kon-El is asleep, face tucked into Tim’s neck, and Tim’s fingers run slowly up and down his arm, the other hand playing gently with his hair. Their legs are tangled, but it’s clear where they’re tied together.

Parched and strung out, Damian leans back in his chair with a heave of a sigh to catch his breath, sour look on his face as he surveys his mess.

“Fucking Drake…”