Chapter Text
The first time it happened, it was excusable.
Damian was alone in the manor with the exception of Alfred, left to his own devices during his first pre-heat. It had crept up on them faster than anyone expected, and Bruce and Dick were both out of the country for a week on a surveillance op. There hadn’t been time to make proper arrangements, and Damian thought about calling them, but stubborn as he was, he decided that he would rather handle it himself than pull the two vigilantes from their duties.
While Damian didn’t know much yet about heats, he knew enough to instinctually make his way to his father’s room, knowing that he needed to go somewhere he felt unequivocally safe. The alpha’s scent was heaviest in his bed, which the boy didn’t hesitate to crawl into and bury himself in the sheets. The warm comfort of his father’s scent wrapped around him like a blanket, making his eyelids heavy and pulling him into a deep sleep.
He woke only a few hours later, and the scent of his father filling his nose sparked something desperate and needy inside his core as he rose to consciousness. Damian turned his head to bury his nose in Bruce’s pillow, inhaling deeply, and he was caught off-guard by the soft keen that slipped past his lips. By the time he was fully awake, the omega’s breath was coming in shallow gasps, his cock straining against his underclothes, which were damp with slick.
With blind instinct and arousal guiding him, Damian’s hands pressed insistently between his legs, and he whimpered into the darkness as he rocked into his hand, seeking friction that was nowhere near enough. The boy gripped his cock, desperately bucking into his fist with a soft whine, nearly choking on the noise as the pleasure crashed through him like a tidal wave. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before, but still not what he needed.
Damian grunted in frustration before pulling the blankets aside long enough to tug off his underwear, letting it fall to the floor with a wet plop that had his ears burning. He quickly recovered himself and spread his legs, his hand now sliding unimpeded between his legs and farther down. A startled whine is ripped from his chest when his fingers brush against his entrance, white hot need skittering down his spine to send slick gushing obscenely across the digits, and Damian needed no further encouragement from his own body. He eagerly pressed two fingers into his slick hole, biting his lip to soften the overwhelmed whine that slipped from him as he began filling himself in earnest.
The soft schlick of his fingers pumping inside himself echoed quietly throughout the room, and Damian found the lewdness of it all the more exciting. The heady burn of arousal made him daring, and the boy turned onto his stomach, raising his hips into the air as he curled his fingers into himself. Bruce’s scent was thick in his nose now, and it wasn’t long before he felt himself clenching around his own fingers, crying out sharply as his orgasm caught him by surprise, scalding pleasure racing through his body so fiercely his vision dimmed. He gasped wetly into the pillow, continuing to thrust his fingers, chasing that almost painful pleasure until his legs gave out from underneath him and he lay there, legs tangled in the sheets of his fathers bed, utterly spent. Sleep claimed him again only moments after he buried himself yet again into the sheets, surrounded by the scent of his father and his own desire.
Even as he drifted off into sleep, Damian knew that this wouldn’t be the last time he would pleasure himself in this way, in this place. He may not have fully understood yet the ramifications of his actions, but whether or not he understood it, one thing was certain. Bruce Wayne was going to be his, entirely.