cohero | (Reply)

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[Don't get him wrong, Dick knows equally as much about all the violence of life. He's awash in it. He's still wearing a slice along his rib, and a giant bruise that spans the width of his left kidney. The way he cursed after that one. The stupid prick knew exactly where to hit with that giant pipe. Luckily, Nightwing is quick and twisted his way out, swinging around to win the night with two glowing blue electric sticks. That's Dick's typical night. He's dedicated to the job, and to do anything else-- he can't even begin to comprehend a life that doesn't involve the job.

Maybe he didn't always want the mantle of Gotham, the darkness that sweeps the city. He strayed from the evil that crawls in the shadows and curls around souls, waiting to corrupt into a type of hell that Bruce can only imagine still. Dick has seen the madness that mere human monikers can create. It dwells in Gotham like no other city out there, and yet... Still, Dick came back because he wanted to.

This is his home, and this is the place that needs him, as much as it needs Bruce-- and to reciprocate, they both need the city. So, why then, can't they need one another. It's strange logic, and not even something Dick has wrapped his entire brain around yet. He's still a little stuck on the fact that his desire struggles for Bruce, and the sharp angles of his jaw, the sweep of his cheekbones, even the roughness of his chin as it slopes down to the lean lines of his neck.

It's into that softness that he leans, and whispers between the pair of them. Never once do his fingers falter. They push back into Bruce's hair momentarily, and then pull forward to cup his cheek again, digits fanning the space to capture the entire sweep of bone. Leaning into their closeness, Dick realizes that maybe this isn't as terrible as he thought, maybe there could be something more. There's no disgust, or revulsion. Instead, there's a simple warning.

Heaving his own sigh. He smiles gently, so close to the lips near his. ]

It could be, but maybe it won't.

[Ticking his head to the side, Dick mouths along Bruce's jaw, and up to his ear, gently caressing the curl with the warmth of his breath.]

Maybe it could be okay. [a whisper, a kiss to the side of Bruce's face before he meets the other's lips again, skimming across them with mouth open, feeling the urge to do so much more, but holding himself in check.]