[Fuck. There's a start in Dick's brain, and then it shorts when Bruce doesn't move. The shock of hair that falls and shuffles along to brush not only Bruce's face, but Dick's as well given their current level of intimacy. The mental curse drifts along the same fleeting brush of Bruce's lips, because Dick knows those words on an extremely personal level himself, having said them time and again to others. He's warned souls that weren't aware of who he was, what he was, what path this life carved out for him.
That's why this could be more than okay, and the next kiss only further proves it. Dick slides in even closer, wanting to feel an even greater nearness to the man who somehow slipped between Dick's defenses while he wasn't thinking it to death. Maybe he will later, but that says nothing for the thoughts that race through his mind now, the ones that are there and the ones that turn to dust when those hands come up to hold onto Dick's face.
Leaning into the kiss, Dick's lips part easily as the exchange grows and he begins to divest into the wonders of the other man. His hand drops slowly from Bruce's face to edge along his shoulder and then down further, winding around to his back where he drags and pulls the press fabric that covers the scars that lay below. Scars they both wield across their bodies, mentally, physically and emotionally, Dick concedes.
Shuttering a breath when this kiss breaks, he's moving his forehead where it rests in a sweeping motion. The lashes from his eyes still rest against Dick's cheek, keeping closed the windows to his eyes. Bruce is the only other person who can fall into the same darkness, and understand every bit of the secrets they keep. Dick has never met another person on any level that could do that, and that's one of the myriad of reasons why he continues to press his lips to Bruce's time and again, in soft tiny whispers of kisses, biting tenderly, and tugging at the other man's lips until he is sure his denial is understood. ]
You don't understand. I am the one who always tells everyone that. Those are my words, and they all leave. They all realize it's the truth. I- I don't need anything more than who you are.
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That's why this could be more than okay, and the next kiss only further proves it. Dick slides in even closer, wanting to feel an even greater nearness to the man who somehow slipped between Dick's defenses while he wasn't thinking it to death. Maybe he will later, but that says nothing for the thoughts that race through his mind now, the ones that are there and the ones that turn to dust when those hands come up to hold onto Dick's face.
Leaning into the kiss, Dick's lips part easily as the exchange grows and he begins to divest into the wonders of the other man. His hand drops slowly from Bruce's face to edge along his shoulder and then down further, winding around to his back where he drags and pulls the press fabric that covers the scars that lay below. Scars they both wield across their bodies, mentally, physically and emotionally, Dick concedes.
Shuttering a breath when this kiss breaks, he's moving his forehead where it rests in a sweeping motion. The lashes from his eyes still rest against Dick's cheek, keeping closed the windows to his eyes. Bruce is the only other person who can fall into the same darkness, and understand every bit of the secrets they keep. Dick has never met another person on any level that could do that, and that's one of the myriad of reasons why he continues to press his lips to Bruce's time and again, in soft tiny whispers of kisses, biting tenderly, and tugging at the other man's lips until he is sure his denial is understood. ]
You don't understand. I am the one who always tells everyone that. Those are my words, and they all leave. They all realize it's the truth. I- I don't need anything more than who you are.