[It doesn't matter how slow they have to go. Dick will move at the speed of a glacier if that's what it takes for Bruce, and he knows that it'll be one step forward and half a million back. That's how this dance works, and how it was always going to work if they truly crossed the threshold of it. All it meant was that the word try had moved into their vocabulary. Not that there were any expectations on it. It merely existed on its own, as simple as a word could, wrapped in the warmth of a moment created here in the dim light of Dick's kitchen as they both shared the heat of their bodies and the brush of their faces, in tiny intimate gestures.

Dick was becoming more and more used to the tiny little sacrifices of nose and cheek that Bruce gave every time he would feel anything. It was a language all of its own, Dick believed. He'd done it enough throughout the night and now into the early morning, that it begun to make him hold his breath in anticipation, waiting for the tiny touch of lips that usually followed.

Watching those eyes, Dick softens his and lets them speak gentle emotions, care, safety, comfort. Nothing overtly dangerous all on their own, but mildly cautious and there to wrap around Bruce exactly like Dick's arms do. ]

Which would you rather. The glow is just beginning. We can go to the window, or even to the balcony to watch the colors before the sun actually rises.

[Moving around the counter, Dick moves toward the door in the living room. There's no one to see him this chill morning hour. He grabs an extra blanket from the couch and holds out a hand to Bruce. ]

Come to me?