[There's a set in the washer that needs to turn over to dry, and he has one last set before he's out-- if Dick's calculated correctly. There have been lots of nights he's bled through sheets and had them changed several times because he hated to lie around in a mess when he was laying there thinking. This is completely different, but it's all about being neat and clean. The laundry is usually done every few days anyways, so he doesn't overly fret about it.

All that's on Dick's mind is the man that follows him up onto the bed, the weighty length of body that comes with a new secure taste of mouth and tongue. This time it's as if molten lava courses beneath skin, running through his veins, startling eruptions within Dick's body at places he never associated with sex before. Where touches fall, new flows trail blazes along arms, legs, chest. When Bruce seeks Dick's neck, he tips his head back with a distinguished sound that aches for more and heat bleeds outwards and takes over from there all the way to fill the ache between his legs.

It's the same, and yet it's quite different. There's a greater intimacy to having Bruce like this, and to hearing those words like spun silk. It doesn't matter for how long it lasts right this second, tomorrow, years from now. Dick knows that in the here and now, he can enjoy the feeling of them together like this, exactly this.

Fingers scrabble to dig in purchase, aching as Dick's mouth also seeks more skin-- Gotham will always be loved between them, but they can have this for now. Watching Bruce's blue eyes, Dick's amber ones rise up as his head lifts so that he can lick across lips, hips pull and waiver, enjoying the extra slide of flesh to flesh. ]

Would you taste me? I want to feel your mouth. I want to feel you fill me again most, but I want-- I want to know what it feels like. It's okay, if you don't. I understand.