cohero | (Reply)

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[Accustomed to the night as well, Dick's energy peaks during this time of day. He's more alive within the shadows than anywhere else. Compared to Bruce's two years, Robin and Nightwing have spent countless hours patrolling, training and living life alongside the worst of Gotham. While Dick does fine in the light of day, he's a finely honed nighttime machine, body, mind and spirit.

The chest that Bruce's fingers push against just behind that fabric is hard, and sculpted through not only hard work, but hours spent in the gym and training room, banging against dummies, until bruised and bloodied, until every motion Dick makes comes out perfectly without his thinking the very first time.

In a similar dogged fashion, his hands know not how the other feels beneath them, but they expect and desire to please. Dick is generous when he's with a partner. His mouth is invested in their kiss, meeting demand for demand, lips pliant and firm all the same. His tongue tangles and investigates wanting to know exact flavors and pathways to the perfect exchange. Teeth clip at Bruce's lower lip, skimming across the plush surface to tug and pull, seconds before Dick's tongue sweeps in to add softness to the lick of pain.

Maybe Dick should think about himself, about where all of this is going and what might happen on the other end. Maybe he should consider his experience, and limitations, but he doesn't. He charges in, reaching down to pull his shirt over his head to give Bruce more space to touch, wanting and needing what this night will bring. ]