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Jason probably had the least amount of self-control, which Dick adored, if only for the fact that the little game he’d play with him wouldn’t require a lot of energy. Jason was always more than willing, and he found his own lack of self will just as amusing as Dick did at times.
To lure him in, Dick had to wear the right amount of clothing, which really wasn’t very much. It didn’t matter the season, either, if Dick was wearing running shorts and no shirt, saying that he was wearing this because he was going to train, Jason would get the message. Dick only ever did this when it was just him and Jason, and occasionally Bruce at home.
Sometimes Dick spent all day just doing things that he knew would make it unbearable not to come up to his room with him. If he walked up behind Jason, his fingers would find the crook of the younger man’s neck and shoulder, and trace a line along the back, over the protruding characteristics of his spine, and then up the nape of his neck, into the thick locks of dark hair. If he was alone, doing whatever it was he was doing, Dick would close his arms around and over Jason’s chest, and press his lips to his earlobe as he asked what it was Jason was doing. Occasionally Dick would come around the couch, part Jason’s legs, and sit on one of his thighs and ask him the most mundane questions, just to get a reaction out of him.
And if, for some reason, the family were all sitting together at the table; which rarely happened, but maybe once or twice when it did, Dick would continue with his day of subtly torturing Jason. Dick was incredibly skilled, he’d learned, in teasing the younger man with his foot, pointing it out and feeling up the man’s slender yet powerful legs, sometimes sitting back fully in his own chair when they were all done eating, just sitting around talking, and pushing one of his feet flat against Jason’s inner thigh or up against his crotch, absolutely loving the feeling of Jason’s erection beneath the sole of his foot. Meanwhile, Jason wouldn’t contribute much to the conversation, instead he would glare at Dick, as if waiting for permission to speak, or possibly trying to kill him with his eyes.
This was another thing that was mostly Dick’s fetishes, was doing these things with other people around, or just a room away. Alfred and Tim were maybe the only ones that Dick would not risk finding them, but if it were Bruce, or anyone else, really, Dick wouldn’t give Jason much of a choice.
It would begin small, with the smoothest of movements that it was almost impossible to detect unless you were looking very close. Then Dick’s hands would wander, and Jason was very good at keeping a straight face and ignoring the fact that the elder man was sinking his hands down the front his pants, his fingers and palms feeling the trail of coarse hair leading down from the end of Jason’s navel. If he did acknowledge it, it was through a pair of wide blue eyes, fixed on Dick’s face, turning to a glare. Sometimes Jason would remind him that if anyone found them like this, with Dick’s hand hidden beneath Jason’s pants, moving easily back and forth, that it would be horrible, embarrassing, they would never hear the end of it. But Dick, of course, didn’t care. After all, that was the aspect of it that got him off.
One time in particular that this happened, Dick parted his legs wide when Jason demanded it, and bit moans into Jason’s hand, and up his arms, tasting his skin as he rubbed Dick through his boxers. Typically Dick wasn’t the one reduced to a panting mess from such minuscule stimulation; but that day was different. Jason’s words still turned Dick on when he would hear them in his ear as he did that day, Jason asking him if he was close, if he wanted to come for him, if he wanted to be fucked.
He knew Dick’s weaknesses, too, and dirty talking was one of them. Usually it would leave him in pain, and a heaving mess, until he begged Jason to either stop or fuck him, and Jason would usually decide on the first option, if he wanted to return the favor of teasing, which he always did.
As a generality, Jason loved slutty clothes, without admitting it, he always loved being teased and returning the favor, as well as various other things that border on being kinks. The only major kink Dick could think of, though, is one that made him uncomfortable, but he followed through with it when the two were first sleeping together, regardless. Eventually it started to grow on him, but, if it were anyone else, not Jason? Dick probably wouldn’t let them hold a knife to his throat, or a gun to his head while they fucked him. Nor would he do the same for them, either, but Dick did this for Jason, and no matter who was the one holding the weapon, it wouldn’t take long for Jason to come undone just at the sight of it.
Dick’s turn-on's were slightly more normal. Typically, flexibility was a huge turn on for guys, but Dick appreciated it way more, being able to do half of what Jason did and more. It came to the point, though, that when Jason would be stretching, or anything like it, he would ask for Dick’s help deepening the stretch, even when actually he didn’t need it. Dick, though, grew accustomed to it, and liked to at least pretend for maybe a minute that he was helping Jason, until he pinned the other man to the floor of the cave, on several occasions.
Another thing that he liked, again, when they were alone in the house or only Bruce was there with them, was lap dances, usually spontaneous ones. Jason loved Dick’s taste in music much more than anyone else’s, and some of it just so happened to be really good music to take his clothes off to. There was a large reading chair at the corner of the room Dick stayed in that he usually sat in when they were listening to music, and Jason typically sat between his legs, tracing his fingers over the elder man’s knees and thighs aimlessly as he listened to the music discoveries Dick had made. Unlike Jason, Dick would usually respond to the younger man’s touch, whether it was a slight movement of where he was feeling on Dick’s body, or a returned set of fingers.
As far as clothing, it almost didn’t matter, but Jason did notice a difference when he wore a pair of pants, or a shirt, or both that hugged the sinews of his body tightly and left almost nothing to the imagination. If that were the case, it didn’t matter if Bruce was even within a couple feet of them, Dick’s hands would start to roam, and caress and squeeze. A turn on they shared, actually, was talking dirty, and Dick was good, if not better at it than Jason was. The sound of Dick telling him how much he loved seeing every inch of him in whatever pants the younger man was wearing, or whatever shirt, nearly made him drool.
On more than one occasion, Jason’s hips were piercing a counter top, as Dick pinned him there and had a clear mission of getting him off without as much stimulation as he would have liked. Dick's hands would find Jason's cock, tugging, and stroking carefully as his other fingers dug into the definition of muscle in Jason's ass.
He would mutter into the younger man's ear, "You know what it does to me when I can see you like this, without even getting your clothes off." His words would be punctuated by roaming hands, fingers dipping into the prominent lines before he continued, "Look at you...you don't care, do you? You don't care who sees how hard you are, you don't care how much of you they can see."
The rugged sound of Dick's breath between his words would have Jason's head shifting back, hips rocking into the hand that seemed carelessly draped over him. His eyes would reel to the back of his head, mouth hung open, while he breathlessly agreed, over and over, quiet yeah's and mmhm's and God, yes. When Jason would let out noises that told Dick that he was close, Dick would simply take his hand away, and move it back to less sensitive areas over the younger man’s body.
“Fuck you,” Jason would grumble, each and every time, until Dick returned the touch. If Jason even wanted to finish, which by then, the thought of not doing so wasn’t an option, Dick would tell him he had to work for it. It almost got him off, just watching the way Jason turned, opened his eyes and looked up into him. The years of seeing him smaller, younger and beneath Dick and looking scared and eager coming back, made the tightness in his gut even worse.
There were particular words that made both of them nearly buckle at the knees, though almost all were uttered by Dick, into Jason’s ear. Jason was surprisingly eager to be demeaned, only by Dick, and his response to such things gave Dick no choice but to take care of his own erection that was positively throbbing by the time Jason was letting out wanton, desperate howls of pleasure.
Dick’s release was always much more quiet, not so exaggerated, because it felt more as though something that he wasn’t willing to have, when he let out labored breaths and subtle jerks against Jason’s body. The feeling of Jason’s body, when his ecstasy was hitting it's peak, his spine arching as well, had Dick’s body doing the opposite and convulsing, pulling inward, until warmth ran down and in between his fingers, dripping to his thighs. It was always like this, and the release was always so sweet, especially if the need for it has lasted even half the day.