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[cohero]

[Uncomfortable. There's a word that Dick's not wormed his way into feeling in quite some time. The answer to that thought takes a backseat to the more immediate and pressing matter at hand, and that's the alcohol abuse. The spill spins Dick into a small whirlwind of slightly uncoordinated action. The finger that had been pressed to Bruce's face is immediately removed in favor of reaching for the closest box of tissues, which is the only thing nearby that he has to wipe up the spill.

The clumsiness, Dick admits wasn't caused by the comfort level that Bruce might think of. It was something more. Dick has his own projects brewing. They percolate on their own in his own little office, networked into the greater bat-computer at large. He's got his eye on a gang that's been running underground drugs to local high schools right now. It might seem fairly regular, but Dick believes there are darker ties. All he needs is one more good lead...

However, he's taken enough time from all this to learn how to manage life. He's not like Bruce in that. Yet, he's here for Bruce, slowly realizing what that means, even if it means pushing past what actually made him uncomfortable. It is his own skin, and thoughts. Things he never expected, things he's held only for other women before. A fondness.. and something else, he realize to his surprise. ]

I- no. it's not that. I mean, I - no. you don't make me uncomfortable in the way you think. I-

[words are not always easy for Dick, he's been working on his feelings and learning to share, but after so many years of not doing it, they are stuck. He knows that he shouldn't do anything, and his head screams at him, but instead of the words he leans across the gap and delicately presses his lips to Bruce's. It's light and gentle. He knows it's going to send him to hell, but Dick doesn't care. He pulls away, and then looks at Bruce.]

It's.. that.

[batsymbol]

( oh.

there's something to be said here. namely, the fact that bruce seems to attract those who simply want to kiss him without his even realizing. for someone so smart and perceptive in the field of being a detective, it's amazing how he seems to miss the more intimate details of a situation.

selina had been the last person to do this — to catch him off guard like this and, like before, he's left without much to say when it slowly breaks. because it's always slow for bruce in the moment, as if some part of him buried deep beneath the cape of the dark knight longs for this. for an intimacy. a connection he's been without or only ever had so fleeting in his life.

to be expected, there's a silence that comes with that and after a moment, bruce looks down to his empty glass he still holds. who is he to dick? a [younger] version of a man he knows? someone he's looked up to and spent years of his life with as both ward and family? that thought has his expression scrunch up for a moment. only a moment because, to bruce, dick... isn't really anything because he doesn't exist to him. not yet anyways. just here. in this space. in this apartment he has for himself. in this apartment he hadn't been sure he should come over to and yet, some part of him still wanted to, which is why he's here now.

but that also isn't entirely true. dick not being anything to him. in the time they've known each other here, he's been there, like he's said. even when bruce hasn't seemed to want anyone there. really, like with the kiss, he wonders how he manages to find these people. how he ends up caring for them in ways he didn't think he ever would. in ways, he wonders, if others even know he's capable of for how aloof he can come off as at times. bruce cares. so much that it scares him sometimes. because to care means he'll eventually lose them and he's still skittish with the thought of that what with having nearly lost alfred and already having lost his parents.

licking over his lips, he tastes both the alcohol and the other man on them and there's a soft sigh that leaves him then as he stares across the apartment. glass tipping back and forth simply as a means to give his hand something to do. )

You really shouldn't.

( because he deserves better. everyone deserves better than bruce. )

[cohero]

Maybe but...

[Then comes the horrible gap of silence that Dick knew was inevitable. The greater part of his brain tells him to turn back and rearrange himself so that he's no longer facing this person, this man whose managed to work his way beneath Dick's skin in a way he never thought another man could. Dick understands the craving, and the longing. He's tried to fit himself against so many other people and he's always failed because they didn't get his dedication to the mission.

Now, Dick is trying desperately to open himself up, to change the very essence of who he is, the only person he's known for decades. The only reason he can even begin such an attempt is because he died, and saw how horrible his life was, how depraved he truly was inside. He saw his true self in the face of the Joker as he kicked and tortured Jason to death, or was it the Joker he killed in the pit. It's all a bit fuzzy now, and intermingles in his mind.

The one thing that's crystal clear is the fact that life is far shorter than Dick ever thought it could be. It's one thing to be out there, facing death and knowing that he could die any instant, and another to actually go through the process. Maybe he shouldn't, maybe Dick shouldn't crave the intimacy that he does with Bruce-- this Bruce that's so very different from his mentor, a person, a locked and lonely vigilante like himself on so many levels, he feels.

Locking eyes with this man, the one across from him who is so much more than Dick ever realized, even without spoken words. He leans in and takes his hand to Bruce's face again, caressing his cheek. He touches their lips together once more, still lightly, there's an eagerness for more, but he's hesitant. There's worry that Bruce doesn't want this, doesn't accept the fact that he's not the girlish figure that either of them know. -- not that Dick actually knows anything.

Catching Bruce's lip, he licks over it and then presses in another soft kiss, capturing it before he pulls back, forehead seeking forehead. ]

I shouldn't, but I will. I want to. Is it terrible?

[batsymbol]

( is it terrible? somehow, that feels like a loaded question with an equally loaded answer. selina had wanted something like this — something with him, even if neither of them really knew what it was, but. he'd been unable to give it to her. unable to follow her. unable to see what it could be. spoken for to a city he couldn't quite untangle himself from, even if some small part of him wanted to at times.

he's standing here in that scenario again — technically sitting this time, but. the scenario is more or less the same. a sort of deja-vu he didn't think he'd find himself in. wanting something from him he's not so sure he can give.

dick touches him and those blue eyes fall shut. lips touch. soft. something he's not used to. bruises, punches, knives, gunshots. sharp, painful touches are what he's used to — what he almost expects to feel. not this softness that makes everything around him slow. as if to savor it while he can. which is why it's surprising, even to himself, that when dick's forehead presses to his, there's a gentle sort of reciprocation in the way he lets his own stay there against dick's. as close to a nuzzle as bruce wayne can offer.

again, soft on his lips, a sigh. )

It could be.

( this could be terrible. i could be terrible for you. )

[cohero]

[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.]

[batsymbol]

( part of him has to wonder if this is the alcohol talking. he knew dick had been drinking some prior to his arrival — prior to the invite he'd decided to accept, when dick had been indulging on his own here. but he doesn't believe the other man to be intoxicated at the moment and that his words are that which fall to the side of genuine rather than a result of alcohol. although, the alcohol could possibly be giving him the courage — the nudge of sorts to do so, but. he's more than sure the other man is aware of his words. of his actions and his touches.

at least that's good to know. or is it? overthinking, as always. that's bruce wayne for you, no matter the version.

this version, however, lets blue eyes slip shit and a hum to rumble deep in the back of his throat as lips are drawn across pale skin. his scars are more beneath his clothes, littered across his back and chest. some in the process of healing, others still fresh and angry.

a duck of his head, dark strands of hair fall in front of his face and his mind kicks into overdrive. what to do. what to say. what he's feeling right now. he's had a couple glasses himself and he could chalk it all up to that. but he knows he's sober. knows he's nowhere near being intoxicated and he doesnt even want to be, truth be told. because another thought touches him. that maybe dick is just as lonely as he is. when he really stops to think about it. when he's not distracted with being so hyper focused on something or someone that needs to be taken care of. when all of that is gone and there's the silence that gives way to thoughts and feelings so often pushed aside and ignored. maybe that's what this is. seeing and finding that same loneliness tucked away inside a darkness that's become so familiar now. and because it's familiar, it almost feels safe in some unhealthy sort of way.

gentle as it is, a huff leaves bruce then and as he lifts his head some, when he speaks, it's with his own lips brushing over dick's. )

Nothing about this is ok.

( for dick, mostly. because he's sure this is liable to hit him with some sort of existential crisis when it all really hits him later. that's why he should leave. for dick's sake. but bruce sometimes makes questionable decisions and it's why rather than leave like he should, he kisses him. soft at first before it becomes a little harder and hands come up to hold dick's face, forehead pressing to his. eyes closed. a sliver of sanity grasped. )

I can't be what you need because you need someone better than me.

( because bruce is still selfish in his own ways and can't untangle himself from his other self. from the dark knight that's consumed him and his life. )

[cohero]

[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.

[batsymbol]

( but he does need more because bruce will deny him so much when the mood strikes. sometimes without even realizing it. things he'll say that will cut sharper than any knife could. things he'll do that will make him wonder if he even cares. if he ever did. it's not something that could potentially happen. it's something that will happen. over and over and over again. where he chooses what he needs over what he wants.

because he will. every time. no matter how much it hurts.

the breath that leaves him is one that's heavy, slipping from his lips to fall onto dick's. again, familiar. the heaviness that comes with being who they are. forehead still pressed there to dick's, words are soft as they leave him. )

You do. Because you deserve more.

( everyone who finds themselves caught up in his orbit does. yet bruce can't help but brush the pad of his thumb along dick's bottom lip, blue eyes somber in the way they just barely stare to the other man, so close as they are.

dick can handle himself physically. he's seen it. but emotionally... he'll leave him with far deeper scars than any physical wound ever could. )

[cohero]

[Perhaps it's all true, but there's nothing tangible that Dick has to predict Bruce's absolute mannerisms. This Robin has only the history that he knows, and the foundation of pain and suffering he's found along the way. Before it's always been Dick that has left behind anyone he's tied himself to, slicing with his own emotional knives. He never stayed any course, or kept through any promises until this last mission, but there was never a relationship involved, only the mission. There's hope, but that's all he truly manages as a chord toward his future.

It's not foresight that moves his fingers down Bruce's back and wages war against fabric until the pads of his digits scatter and brush over the tiniest bit of flesh, breathing in that deeper connection that Dick craves as much as he does anything else right now. It could be shoved away, taken in this second and Dick would understand.

The path he wanders is fraught with dangers and risks, something that Dick faces every day. He throws himself into harm for people he doesn't even know, so why wouldn't he eventually toss himself into the same type of dangerous fray when it comes to desire, and that which he seeks in those eyes so crystal clear in front of him. ]

No one deserves anything in this world. You and I we didn't deserve the cups handed to us. Who's to say what I deserve, what you do. Stop telling me that I deserve better. You don't know what I've done...

[Choking on those words would have been easier than saying them aloud, but Dick manages it. He swallows down the taste of bile in his throat that hasn't bothered him in a while. Dropping his own head, Dick almost breaks the connection, but he can't. He will not break first. Even as his eyes close, his mouth opens to that thumb, kissing the tip of it, before catching it between his lips gently. ]

Bruce...

[The name is a whispered breath pushed between lips as they release the calloused finger. Sweeping his hand from behind Bruce, Dick slides both hands now, alcohol long ago forgotten, along the sides of Bruce's body and up to line fingers together at the back of the other male's neck. Curling nails inward, they press dully against the skin. ]

... I don't care what I deserve, I only know what I want right now.

[batsymbol]

( the fact that bruce still has his coat on shows he hadn't really intended to stay very long. yet here he is. on dick's couch. tangled up in words and fingers and feelings of all things.

there's a shift there in those blue eyes of his when dick goes and says what he does. when he more or less tells bruce of his own burdens he carries even without the details of them. you don't know what i've done is something he, himself could say right back to dick... can relate to in ways some part of him wishes he didn't. for dick's sake, that is.

but it's hearing his name on the other's lips that has that gentle shift in his gaze to soften some, despite the somber, and he stares to the other man for a long moment before he lets his eyes fall shut. this isn't weakness. but this also isn't courage or strength either. he doesn't know what it is. he'll need to figure it out later. for the moment, he simply stays there close against him like he is, dick's fingers at the back of his neck almost burning him with how unfamiliar such a touch is to him. )

And what do you want?

( he shouldn't ask. yet he does. )

[cohero]

[Feeling the subtle shift in the air between them; the air in Dick's lungs refuses to release. His diaphragm stays where it is, keeping everything in check as the cape crusader does his best to dissemble exactly what moved between them. Ever ticking off a never-ending list of variables, Dick prepares himself with the utter stillness that happens right before a battle.

The same neurotransmitters declare themselves and release into the hero's body as it waits for an emotional precipice to tip, in the same way they do with a bloodletting. Strange how the body's defenses intermingle certain emotions, fight and flight all together. The fingers clasped behind Bruce's neck don't care what they had to wade through to reach the spot they are at, be it turtleneck, coat or even a scarf. Realize it or not, there's still an utter determination to keep the pair knit together, even as Dick offers Bruce a quiet way out.

Not that it was given verbally, only emotionally, even then it was completely stilted by the grasp and pull every force that Dick has wrought up to this point. Still waiting for the proverbial ball to drop, Dick doesn't breathe again until Bruce seemingly changes the course of conversation.

What does he want. It's a statement in his mind, a pressing burden in his heart. How it got there, Dick knows he'll dig out and look at later, but for now the only answer he can give is born in another kiss, and this one is far deeper than any he's offered before. This kiss is given with the tilt of his head, and a heavy press of lips that open to an exchange of tongues and emotions-- ones that Dick lets loose into the fervor, things he'd never be able to put into words. This. This is what he wants, or maybe he wants more. He wants Bruce, in every and any way he can possibly have him.

It's a terrible ache that only grows deeper when he pulls back slightly.]

You. This.... tomorrow be whatever the hell it wants to be.

[Whatever that means, be it truth or small fiction, Dick wants it all the same. ]

[batsymbol]

( so it's an in the moment thing, is it? hm. maybe this is all more physical than emotional then. maybe this is just... some thing for the night. does that make it better? does that make it ok? he doesn't know. but he can feel the desire — the desperation almost there on the other's lips for whatever this is that he finds himself nosing gently at dick there in the silence that falls between them after.

a silence that almost feels as if he's contemplating it. )

Just this.

( words soft, it's said not asked. as if trying to confirm what it is he's hearing from the other man. as if letting him hear it said back to him to know that's what he wants. )

[cohero]

[It costs nothing for Dick to draw his hands forward and push back at the coat that Bruce is wearing. Whatever his verbal acknowledgement ends up being, Dick hopes to award himself with at least this much. There's a tip of humbled eagerness, a dichotomy in the way he brushes his nose back-- edging along Bruce's cheek after to tip up his chin so that Dick's mouth can blush small kisses against the long line of Bruce's neck.

He hums softly against the skin given to him. Inhaling the moment and leaning on his senses to memorize it in every minute detail possible. ]

Tonight.

[Muttered against tender, giving flesh, the acceptance isn't exactly what's being asked or spoken on. Silently, Dick can acknowledge all that he yearns for and yet knows what he's libel to gain if he asks for more. They've talked about beyond this, and Dick understands that Bruce thinks he deserves better than what can happen. So he doesn't bother to speak another word, but merely licks over the skin that's open to him, knowing that he will still give his entirety to this one night.]

[batsymbol]

( tonight then. since that's what he wants.

drawing in a breath to swallow down any other words that might threaten to leave him regarding this, the pads of his fingers ghost along the nape of dick's neck and he noses him. soft. breath now nothing more than a sigh, before a tip of the other man's head is done with the guidance of fingers and he finds his lips there on the couch for a kiss.

his one hand still holds his empty glass, holding it there against his thigh while the fingers of his other smooth along the curve of dick's neck and he holds to him there as lips brush over his. soft. slow. then a little harder. because he knows he can handle it. just as he would any hit thrown at him. )

[cohero]

[Tonight, for better or worse, be as it's the first and maybe only step into the fray, wherever it takes them and whatever shape it takes it takes the form of. Tonight will be about this, about them. There's very little more that Dick can focus on beyond that since it seems they are finally done with mostly unconventional communication that brought them this far. Whatever words come beyond this Dick leaves up to the night and what happens next.

With his hands pressing back at that coat, Dick finds the glass and plies it from those fingers, letting it drop to the floor so that he can take them up with his own. Hand to hand, he presses the length of his digits through and past Bruce's to grasp and hold his hand. Tying himself to the man that has his lips captured securely.

A small hum escapes Dick as he too takes the kiss further. There's no need for tenderness, beyond the desire to take a bit of soft against the rugged hard planes of their frames as they grow closer. Dick has a penchant for mixing up his signals pain and pleasure, soft and rough. They all are hardwired differently in his brain, even in a situation like this. ]

[batsymbol]

( with the glass now removed from his hand, fingers find themselves clutching the front of dick's shirt then, making out there on the couch as if he's a teenager again.

he's overdressed but dick seems willing enough to help him with his coat and scarf, bruce letting him without much resistance. this all has the potential to snowball into something neither of them will be able to untangle themselves from soon enough and he has the means right now to slam on the breaks. mostly for dick's sake.

but does he?

no.

he kisses him more instead. skin pale in contrast to all the black he wears. the lack of heavy lighting, despite it being night, makes it easier for bruce — he sees so much better in the dark these past couple years. more awake at night and with more energy to give, a quiet burst of adrenaline bubbles inside him in a way that's different from when he's throwing fists on the streets, and it's why those kisses become a little more harder. a buildup of things he's ignored and denied himself in favor of being the vigilante he's chosen to be. not exactly bruce, but also not batman either. right now, he's something in-between. a mixture of soft and rough. )

[cohero]

[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. ]

[batsymbol]

( it's the removal of dick's shirt that makes this feel all the more real in the moment but bruce doesn't think to stop. if anything, blue eyes sweep their gaze over the other man's chest, seeing the similarities between them in terms of muscles and scars and there's a moment in doing so, when his head ducks, dark strands falling before his face. somehow, seeing dick like this makes it all feel much more real. )

How did you...

( a pause — a lick over his lips. a faint tilt of his head up, those blue eyes search dick's face. )

...want to do this, I mean.

( for as much of a recluse as bruce has been, he's been friendly with mostly women and while he's not against this pursuit they're now on, this wasn't exactly the reason for his visit and, as such, he has absolutely nothing on him for anything. )

[cohero]

[Watching the way those eyes follow the length of Dick's torso turns up the heat at the back of his neck. He can feel the deep scrutiny before Bruce ducks his head. Chasing it, Dick leans forward to push back those strands of hair, for as strongly as he felt about those eyes, he wanted to continue to be the center of their focus.

When Bruce speaks, Dick swipes his tongue across his own lips as he considers the question. Ladies have never been an issue, and while there's not a snippet of hesitation for where this is leading them, Dick isn't certain of all the exact motions to take. He knows what he wants, but all the hows and whys he's never exactly been through before.

He's not completely inexperienced, Dick's invaded the world of gay porn and found himself getting off on it more than a few times, but there's a dissonance there. This isn't merely a blowjob in some strange bar either. He leans against Bruce and touches lips softly before setting back a small amount.]

I have anything we'd need in my bedroom, and there's more space. I've got- I mean, it would be easier on the bed. Did you have any preferences?

[He questions, fingers reaching for one of Bruce's hands to drag him up and off the couch-- for as much as they are talking, Dick wants to continue the action. His pants are tight, and he's not sure if he wants to start rubbing himself in front of Bruce. He'd do it in front of some of the girls he's been with, not afraid to be crass, but this is very, very different and there are so many layers of complexities that he doesn't want to spoil anything by mishandling a single button or swipe of his hand.]

[batsymbol]

( the discussion of this alone is enough to possibly pull him out of the moment — to reconsider and think it best to simply leave this where it's currently at before it leads to something they'll both be unable to stop themselves from. again, more for dick's sake, since this isn't liable to be as messed up for him as it could potentially be for dick and he likes dick. he does. if this somehow ends up hurting him in ways that will leave more scars on him... can he really be responsible for that? can he really be this selfish right now?

if not for dick's touch — if not for the way he pulls him from the couch, he might have considered it. might have pulled away with a shake of his head and slipped that hand back into his pocket as a means to keep distance between them. bruce is good at that after all: keeping others at arms length and denying himself the things he wants [to feel] because he shouldn't. but that touch grounds him in a way that pulls him from his thoughts, if even momentarily, and those blue eyes of his look up to the other man, fingers gentle in the way they seem to rub against dick's. )

Just tell me what you want.

( a beat, a lick over his own lips. )

Or show me.

[cohero]

[In Dick's mind, he's the one being selfish. He started them down this road and has been leaning into it with a more determined mind from the very beginning. There's no saying exactly when Dick first started thinking about Bruce in this manner, but he knows that tonight wasn't the first time and no matter what words he's spoken, or offers in any further discussion, he knows it won't be the last.

Bodily, Dick uses the strength of his arms to pull Bruce upwards toward him. There's enough power in the cradle of his hands to snap bones. Yet now they are used to bring a man into the circle of Dick's arms. Once Bruce is standing, Dick wraps himself tight up against and around him. It's one thing to have a solid idea of how a man is built beneath his clothing, and it's another whole story to feel the strong, firm press of him completely. ]

I can do both, but I want to know what you want too.

[He begins to use his mouth as a guide, kissing Bruce firmly as he walked back toward his bedroom. Dick's hands yanked every bit of Bruce's turtle neck from those neatly pressed black pants and began to slowly pull it up and over his head so that by the time they reached the doorway, Dick had it up and ready to pop over Bruce's head. Turtlenecks were always a pain to get off. He laughed a little as he pulled, pushing Bruce against the doorway until it was gone.]

Fuck. You look so good. I mean, your body is ... exactly what I thought it would be. I want to touch and taste as much as I can, if that's alright with you.

[Now that Bruce was free, the bruises and marks-- none of them mattered. They matched the scars and marks that Dick had on his own body, only showing their similarities. It made him worry far less about being some tender thing, reminding him what they both could handle. They each were colored by a variety of blossoming colors that all became shades of gray and swallows of blue in the dim twilight of Dick's room. It was back-lit by a glowing blue that came from under his bed and from several bed stands, but that was all the light he needed the majority of the time. ]

[batsymbol]

( fleeting as it is, there's something about that puff of laughter there on dick's lips that catches bruce's attention — captivates him almost and without even realizing it, he reaches up to gently grasp the side of the other man's neck as his own back ends up pressed against doorway.

this is new to him for a myriad of reasons, but it's those words that leave dick's mouth in the form of genuine desire that has his own blue eyes fluttering some as he takes that in — as he takes this moment and the other man so close to him like this in.

after a beat of silence between them that more than likely feels far more stretched than it actually is, bruce presses his forehead to dick's, eyes falling shut for a breath or two, pad of his thumb brushing over the curve of dick's neck that he still holds to. gently, lips find his — a kiss brushed over them before he's tilting his head back some, enough to nose at dick before he's letting his gaze settle back onto him again. )

Yeah. That's good with me that you do.

[cohero]

[Joy was something that still littered Dick's life. He'd learned to temper the darkness with it, fighting his own demons for years. It was one of the many differences, and advantages that Dick held over Bruce. Young as Nightwing still was, his experience even with the youngest members of his titans had already spanned four years. It didn't cross his thoughts now, but maybe in the future when problems arose he might consider it.

Currently, it was only Bruce that Dick could focus on. His mentor was gone, and this man remained. The gentleness of touch sparks something within that makes his eyes turn careful and soft, his skin prickle with gooseflesh.]

Bruce. mn. Ah...

[Need is tight, and all he can do is wrap his tongue around the other man's name in a way he grows more and more accustomed to saying. Swallowing down the fluttering in his stomach that threatens the situation, he nods and reaches out to run his digits through the stray bits of hair that he's come to enjoy deeply. It's overtly sexy the way it curtains those desperately blue eyes that see straight through to Dick's soul.

Nestling back, Dick reaches in to suck up light red spots down the line of Dick's neck, savoring the flavor as he moves to his collar line. Closing his mouth over the bone, he pulls deeper here, enough to break capillaries, leaving behind something darker that tastes more like copper and skin.

One of Dick's hands slips downwards, and cups at Bruce's ass while Nightwing's mouth works. He brings their hips together so that he can feel what it's like to know another man this closely. A groan escapes against skin and Dick glances up at Bruce, a second before he leans in for another deeply needed kiss.]

[batsymbol]

( there's a hiss that leaves him when teeth claim pale skin, but he doesn't retaliate or show discomfort in the action licked over him. rather, the hand there on dick's neck, finds its way to the back of his head instead and fingers card through dick's own dark strands of hair, pressing him all the more closer against him as he does.

because this is a sort of pain that doesn't leave him angry — doesn't leave him feeling the need to push and fight back until he's feeling it even harder. this is a sort of pain that sends adrenaline pumping fast through his veins and one that he doesn't often feel with others, let alone from another.

lips find his as they've done a number of times tonight and instead of simply letting dick take whatever he wants from him — letting the other man lead as he pleases — bruce pushes back into that kiss then and even goes so far as to sharply nip at dick's bottom lip. )

This what you wanted?

( his words are low— heavy in a way that's almost batman but not all the way there. fingers at the back of dick's head tangle some in strands of hair and he gives a playfully good tug of his head back, bruce leaning in to nose along the other man's neck and jaw. )

This what you've been keeping to yourself? ( a beat, a press of warm lips over the pulse there at dick's neck. ) Your dark little secret?

[cohero]

[Oh god. That. There. Even with how things had been, Dick didn't expect Bruce of all people to be a pliant individual when it came down to it. He couldn't think about his mentor any longer-- the correlations that had been playing back and forth in Dick's brain ended abruptly at his doorway. All he could fathom now was this man. This Bruce and Batman, carved from alabaster, so alike and yet so different from himself. This man that made Dick crave and his body flame and need with an aching depravity.

When Bruce's fingers found his neck, and those teeth found his lip, Dick's body surged to life. The fingers that he held Bruce with gripped tighter and he let slip a sigh.]

Yes, Bruce. Fuck yes. This is what I want.

[He gazed directly at the other, pressing his hip in tightly so that there was no doubt of exactly how much he wanted this. Dick's adam apple rose and fell as he swallowed against the press of Bruce's mouth. His neck was one of the more sensitive area's on his body, and it was hard to hide exactly how much it affected him.]

I haven't wanted another man until you, but yes. You.

[His head fell back, and he closed his eyes, shuttering them briefly against the moment. The pull of another that could hold him in his place was something he hadn't come across, and it turned Dick on even further. He pulled his head back up straight, yanking against the fingers that held the hairs at the base of his neck, reveling in the pain. ]

You're my little dark secret.

[Moving his hands, Dick pulled Bruce with him to the bed until the rise of it rested against the back of Bruce's knees. He reached between them and flicked open the button at Bruce's waist, exchanging short biting kisses while he pulled down the zipper then slowly ran only his thumbs around the top waistband holding the pants up, enjoying the soft skin beneath the fabric.]