Operation Manpower Chapter two: Titans
This is a fan fiction.
All characters depicted in it belong to and are trademarked and copyrighted by DC Comics and/or its subsidiaries. I am not related to the company and make no claim of ownership over the characters.
Given how many continuities DC has run through in the past 30 years, it's anyone's guess which one this is set in.
This story should in no way be considered a true representation of the true sexuality of either the actors or the characters.
The story depicts males in sexual situations with other males. If that offends you, if you are underage, or if reading such is illegal where you are please stop reading now. Thank you.
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"You realize that this has all the hallmarks of a trap."
The Titans all stared at Wonder Girl.
"Duh," said Beast Boy, "You think so?"
"Donna," said Nightwing, "We're chasing a crook named Crime Master. I never expected him to do anything subtle."
Wonder Girl held back her retort. Let the Testosterone Six walk into the trap, then she and the other girls would come to the rescue—again.
"Yeah, what sort of a stupid name is Crime Master anyway?" Beast Boy always had a smartass comment to make.
"We'll let the doctors at Arkham Asylum ask him when they check him in," said Nightwing.
"Let's go!" shouted Speedy, and he and the other five male Titans rushed into the warehouse.
"Again?" said Raven.
"Again," said Wonder Girl, "And we rush to the rescue in three... two... one... Charge!"
The three heroines took to the air and flew at the open loading dock door—and bounced back when they hit an invisible shield.
"What in the name of X'hal was that?!" demanded Starfire as the three climbed out of the trash dumpsters they'd been blown back into.
"I have a bad feeling about this," said Raven.
Inside the boys found nothing but a bare warehouse. No villains, no henchmen, no loot. The gentle purple-white light of the bulbs in the ceiling fixtures showed them that clearly.
"Say what?" said Cyborg looking around.
"Yeah, where're the bad guys?" demanded Kid Flash.
Nightwing surveyed the room, confused. Nothing. Even though all the clues had led right here. The lights flashed for a moment (no doubt a momentary power surge), but there was still nothing to see. Something was wrong with this picture. Very wrong. The height of Crime Master's subtlety before this was to have henchmen jump out from hiding. But there were no henchmen. Just the calming purple-white light. What was going on?
The junior detective, second only to the Batman when it came to deductive ability, tried to guess what Crime Master had up his sleeve, but he found he was having trouble concentrating. His eyes kept straying to his teammates. Why had he never realized what amazing bodies his fellow Titans had. Oh sure, he'd seen all of them naked at one time or another in the shower, but they were all healthy, young, very straight guys, most of them with steady girlfriends. Right now, though, that last quality didn't enter into the equation. Nightwing found it hard to do anything but stare are his buddies: Beast Boy in his red and white spandex, Speedy in his rust red tights and jerkin, Kid Flash in his yellow skin-tights, Cyborg in the silver singlet that covered the non-mechanical parts of his body. And Jericho, oh fuck, Jericho. A wine-colored vest held a puffy white shirt molded to his torso, but the blue tights fit his body like they had been painted on. And those blond curls. Fuck, Jericho was such a stud. But what Nightwing couldn't know was that Jericho, looking back at him in his tight black uniform, was thinking exactly the same thing. It didn't take long for all the Titans to realize they were sizing one another up.
Slowly, Nightwing's gaze moved south from Jericho's handsome face to the bulge in his blue tights. The lights flashed again, and the bulge seemed to grow before Nightwing's eyes. It quickly took on the obvious outlines of a hard dick, a respectable 8 ½ incher, a brother to Nightwing's own 9 inches.
The team leader absently reached down to rub his own privates and found that he too had gotten hard, his fat cock kust as on display as Jericho's.
"Yeah," he thought as he stroked the engorged shaft outlined against the black spandex of his uniform, "But who wouldn't be turned on when he had a hunk like Jericho in front of him, a hunk sporting a prodigious erection that he too was now caressing? Fuck."
Nightwing was so engrossed by Jericho's body that he never noticed that the rest of his team were similarly fixated. Beast Boy was all but drooling as he cruised Cyborg, and Speedy was a step ahead of the rest of them all, having already cupped Kid Flash's family jewels in his right hand.
The light flashed again, and the six teens' meta bodies responded. Nipples hardened, balls drew up tight in their sacks, and skin tingled all over with excitement. This was all so right, something they all wanted, all needed. They were so engrossed they never noticed the voices of the three Titanesses as they fought to get inside.
"Merciful Athena!" Wonder Girl growled as they pounded away at the shield, "We need backup! I'm calling in the old team, and the gang from Titans West!"
Nightwing gasped as Jericho's hands made contact with his chest. He didn't cum, but his dick (his whole body actually, but mostly his dick) tingled, clearly loving this attention. His rigid shaft was weeping so much goo that in any other color spandex you'd know exactly how hot he was to trot. With the other Titans there was no question about that. Especially with Jericho. As the blond hero's hands made their way south, Nightwing dispensed with subtlety (why did that strike him as vaguely ironic?) and reached for the bulge in Jericho's tights where the pre-cum had already left a big stain on the fabric. His and Jericho's hands made contact with the other's rigid man-meat at the same time. Fuck! Nightwing knew he hung 9 fat inches, but the touch of Jericho's hand was sending more than 9 inches worth of delirious pleasure to his brain.
"Yeah, Joe! Just like that!" Nightwing moaned.
Once the hands were involved, it was only sex logic that lips should follow suit. Nightwing and Jericho fell into each other's arms and gave into a kiss that was more primal than either of them had ever bestowed on (or received from) a girl. Meanwhile their crotches ground together, the friction of their hard-ons delivering stimulation unlike anything ever before in their lives. Hands explored every inch of the heroes' hard bodies, steel-hard shafts were teased, heavy balls fondled, and muscular asses kneaded.
Nightwing stepped back just long enough to tear away Jericho's vest and shirt and to rip open his own uniform, letting the tight fabric catch around his waist. He noticed that the rest of his team was also half naked now, too. It was clear where this all was heading, and truth be told Nightwing was fine and dandy with that.