30/30 Out-Take: Date 4

by Shadow Kyle

Disclaimers: Damage, the Martian Manhunter and Wonder Woman are the property of DC Comics. Needless to say I don't get any money from this. I'm just taking Grant out for a ride and putting him away wet.

Continuity note: based on Show Business by Chicago, with all thanks to her for the beta and encouragement to play in her J'onnverse.

Rating: NC-17

"Why the hell didn't I just fly home?" Grant, the young hero infamously known as Damage, thought to himself.

Grant sat in the back seat of a cab that had been stuck in a traffic jam for over an hour. What's more, he could see that there was no accident blocking the way. The constant chatter from the cab radio confirmed what he already knew. There were just a lot of cars on the streets now, what with the shows in the theatre district letting out. To top it all off, the cars on either side of him were so close he could not open the doors more than a few inches.

"Maybe I can just tear the roof off the car and get the Titans to pay for it," he mused. "Probably not. They'd probably want to see evidence of Metallo or some other crazy ripping through midtown."

"You say somethin', buddy?"

"Huh?" Grant shook his self out of his thoughts. "No, man. Just talking to myself."

The cab driver muttered something under his breath about another damned crazy fare.

Grant chose to ignore it. He glanced around the cab again for probably the thirtieth time since his imprisonment. On the floor were two candy wrappers, some chewed and abused gum stretched across the back of the front seat, and the cab driver's license info displayed on the Plexiglas partition between the seats. Nothing had changed. This was boring. This was like watching one of those nature documentaries with Gar. Gar always insisted that it was research. Grant believed Gar just got off on the mating season specials.

Suddenly the cab lurched forward and to the right, and then came to another stop. The right lane had moved a few more feet. Grant checked the doors again to see if he could escape. Nope, still stuck. Nothing'd changed at all. Well that wasn't true. The door to his right was now blocked by a stretch limo with black tinted windows.

"Must be nice," Grant thought.

"...so fun!"

"Excuse me?" Grant asked the driver who talking into the microphone of a headset. He turned around to face Grant.

"Oh, I though you were talking to me," Grant said, apologetically.

He considered trying to crawl out through the window when he heard another voice.

"...liked that, did you?"

"...and it was... so exciting..." the first voice responded. Definitely a male voice. It sounded familiar, but he could quite place it.

Grant twisted his head around looking for Gar and Roy. Of his friends, these were the two most likely to play this weird sort of prank.

"...I'd need to change...though..." the first voice said with a sultry undertone.

Grant was looking around the backseat of the cab for a speaker when he felt a soft pressure at his ear, traveling down his neck to his collarbone. He slapped at the touch, expecting to find a bug. The cab driver jumped at the sharp noise and turned to face Grant.

"I thought something was crawling on me," Grant explained when he realized there was no insect to be found.

Turning back around, the driver spoke into the headpiece, "Danny, how much longer 'dis traffic gonna last? I got a looney in here wit' me."

"... trying to get in your panties..." the second voice began again.

Grant felt on his thigh a caress slowly making it way up to his hip. He looked down to find that nothing was there on his leg, but he definitely felt the sensation.

"... good..."

"..how about..."

Grant gasped as he felt a pair of lips press against the flesh beneath his tight shirt. With wide eyes he stared down onto his pectorals. As the touch roamed across to each nipple, there was a firm squeeze. He watched as each one responded eagerly into a stiff aroused state. That wasn't the only thing was stiffening. With each caress and pinch, his cock throbbed and lengthened. He felt it slip out of his boxers and expand down his leg.

"...too... too sexy..."

Another hand slid up along his leg, brushing against his erection. He inhaled sharply as it continued further up, and then clutched at his hip.

"...I ...think... too sexy for you..."

"Oooh..."

The sensation of the hands left him and he found a moment to catch his breath. He looked up into the rearview mirror and saw that sweat was glistening on his brow. He also saw that the driver was looking at him out of the corner of his eye. When the driver caught Grant's eye he flashed knowing smile, one gold tooth glinting from the street lights outside.

Grant wondered if the driver was the one that was doing this, but didn't have a chance to ask as the unseen caress returned and was pressing against his balls.

Helplessly, Grant tried to stifle a moan.

"It shouldn't sound so... mmm..."

The hand began to move back and forth against him. It was moving to the rhythm of an unheard song, gliding back and forth over him. Light brushes fell across his weeping cock. A dark, wet stain spread across the jeans he was wearing. Another hand clutched at his hip, and then traveled down his thigh before firmly sliding back up and underneath his leg. He felt it squeeze the muscles in his ass while another hand continued massaging his cock and balls.

"...you liked that..."

Grant felt a surge of pleasure rush through his body and his mind was filled with images of a handsome man tugging on his cock while watching two women service each other. Flashes of the three in different combinations hit him so rapidly that he lost all sense of being. The last thing he remembered before sleep encompassed him was the trail of cum that was sliding across his thigh before being soaked into his jeans.

Grant woke to the voice of the cab driver.

"Hey, buddy. We're here."

Grant blinked his eyes and saw that they were parked outside the brownstone building he had just moved into. Rousing himself from his still groggy state, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Thumbing through the bills there, he asked the driver the fare amount.

"No charge," the driver responded, grinning madly.

"You sure?"

"Positive. It's on me this time."

Grant opened the door and stepped out onto the pavement. His jeans tugged at the hair on his legs where cum had dried much earlier.

"Oh, here."

The driver leaned out the window and offered Grant a card.

"If you ever need a cab, call this number," he said with a smile. "Ask for Vito."

"... and that was the first time that I started hearing other voices," Grant finished recounting his tale, and wished he could sink into the cushions of the chair. His face burned bright red and his ears felt as though they could burst into flames at any moment. This reminded him far too much of getting the birds and the bees talk when he was young. Or of going into the drugstore to buy his first condom. Or when Roy had 'accidentally' discovered the more interesting films in his video collection.

After a few weeks of not being able to control the telepathy, he had finally asked the Martian Manhunter for help. It was an obvious choice since discovering that his powers stemmed from a mixture of DNA from many heroes, J'onn J'onzz included. In some respect, Grant supposed that made J'onn something of a father to him. Maybe more so than he thought. After he detailed the unwanted telepathic eavesdropping, he felt like he had confessed his first wet dream. Grant couldn't bring himself to look directly into the alien eyes of J'onn J'onzz.

J'onn watched the young man before him squirm in his seat. J'onn understood how he felt. As Grant had described the experience to him, J'onn remembered details of the night that Bruce had taken him, as Mona, to the theatre in New York. He also remembered the lovemaking that had occurred in the limousine while they were caught in the traffic jam. What he didn't remember was being so involved that he had let his shields down and was broadcasting their passion.

It was a good thing Grant was looking away for the moment. He would not see that J'onn was failing in his own battle to suppress the blush that had tinged his cheeks a darker shade of green.

"So, can you help me get this under control?" Grant asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

J'onn watched on the monitor as Grant left the Watchtower via the teleporter. Over the course of the evening he had taught Grant the basics of building shields to block unwanted thoughts from others. J'onn also stressed the importance of using the shields himself so as not to broadcast one's own thoughts unwittingly.

"Much like you did that night," J'onn chastised himself as the teleported flashed. J'onn checked the computer display from the monitor room and saw that Grant arrived safely at his destination in New York.

J'onn relaxed in his chair, slouching uncharacteristically. The past few hours had been rather draining. Teaching a new telepath the basics of the power was hard enough, but to actually have to disguise your mental voice while doing it was something he had never tried before. It was necessary, he decided, lest Grant recognize him.

Still, despite how potentially embarrassing the situation could have been, it was rather exciting. Committing a wonton act of lust with the danger of being discovered preyed on his mind for the rest of his shift. Perhaps Bruce and he could explore this little bit of deviance together. Perhaps...

J'onn was roused from his daydream when the monitor displayed Wonder Woman appearing in the teleporter. He checked the time and realized that his shift was over. The Amazon had come to relieve him.

He greeted her and detailed the events he had monitored during his duty. He then raced to the teleporter, leaving a bemused princess to handle the world for a while. Right now, it was of utmost importance to see if he could get Bruce someplace where they, for once, wouldn't be alone.

End