cohero | Dick & Bruce PSL Open Post/Overflow/Inbox

[The following things were sent in wrapped packages to the manor along with a card that Dick spent hours debating about picking and then even longer about sending, but went with it in the end, because why not be truthful. Inside there was a short note that read:

Bruce,

I am sure that you don't celebrate today, but I was thinking of you and hoping we'd be able to get together again soon. We could even go out, if you'd like. Enjoy the small tokens of my appreciation.

Happy Valentine's Day.
Dick.

The packages contained the following:

Gift 1 : (The perfect combination of sentimental and practical, these whiskey stones are a unique Valentine's Day gift for him. Made of stainless steel, they come in a set of six and are heart-shaped for the holiday. To use, he can simply pop them in the freezer for four hours and have a perfectly chilled drink, every time. }

Gift 2 : (Saint Laurent, motorcycle jacket in plunged lambskin ;

leather motorcycle jacket with epaulets, 3 zip pockets, snap closure flap pocket, waistband with belt loops and zip cuffs. silk lining, asymmetrical zip closure, 2 interior pockets, 100% Lambskin, STYLE ID 484284Y5YA21000, MADE IN Italy)

( he doesn't celebrate today. he doesn't even really celebrate his birthday [anymore] which is a few days away from now. he doesn't see a reason to — would rather focus his time and efforts on gotham and what he can do to try and save it. even if, sometimes, he believes it to be beyond saving. but like always: i have to try.

maybe he should have expected this, but he doesn't expect much these days. it's probably why it still takes him by surprise to an extent when he finds the packages... when he reads the card, and it's a few hours after doing so, sitting there in a chair that is far too lavish to be just a chair that he finally takes his phone and sends a message off. )

Nothing very small about these tokens.

( that is to say, he received them. yes. )

[It doesn't matter to Dick what's expected or what isn't. The feelings are there, and they are genuine. He likes spending time with Bruce, and it's been long enough now that he feels that drawing ache inside him that Dick knows he'll do most anything to pull the other man into his orbit for a little bit of his time.]

They aren't that big. A jacket and some stones that get cold. Enjoy them, say thank you. That's what normal people do with gifts. :)

( hm. )

I'm not sure how you mistook me for someone normal.

( he's kidding. sort of. )

I know you're not completely normal. We both run around in form fitting costumes at night and scare the fuck out of people who should know better. Still, manners. I know Alfred taught them to you.

Or forget them, and I'll just assume you love it, and adore me for sending them.

Thank you. You didn't have to though.

I know, but I wanted to and so I did. Don't worry, this doesn't mean anything beyond I was thinking about you unless you want it to.

Enjoy your day, Bruce.

( it's a few days later — the 19th, to be exact, when he sends a reply to dick's last message. )

What's your night looking like?

I've got about another two hours before I finish, maybe hour and a half. These idiots will not go back to the chop shop headquarters where they're distributing parts and selling drugs from. I've been following them for days. Knuckle heads at the top.

They don't have a brain cell between them. I think they're headed there now. I gotta clean shop, then I'm done.

You?

Stuck at a party. Trying to get out of it. I'd rather deal with criminal knuckleheads than rich ones.

I know how that goes. I am always trying to get out of those parties. I hate them.

Here's my address, feel free to come visit me on the roof. I'll wait.

( by visit he assumes in costume, what with dick being out and about working. honestly, he'll take it. like he said, he'd rather deal with knuckleheads that he can throw in jail than insufferable rich ones he can't handle in ways he can as batman. you know. when he can be himself without the mask on. the mask of bruce wayne, that is.

he eventually arrives, after finally being able to slip away from the party. why anyone wanted to celebrate his birthday was beyond him what with his lack of interest in it over the years since... everything. he'd rather be here. on the rooftops. even if alfred had made sure to wish him a happy birthday earlier in the day. maybe even give him a cupcake with a candle in it.

the weight of his steps can be heard as he slowly makes his way across the rooftop. wanting dick to hear him so as not to be caught off guard unexpectedly; he's good at doing that, too. )

Still out here.

( it's not a question, but an observation. )

He finally gets here. I heard you when you landed by the way. You didn't have to announce with your boots. I'm not a rookie.

[Everything is done in a whisper as Dick heads over to him with a com set that he has from back in the Titan days. He keeps him tucked in a tiny pocket in case he runs into a situation where he needs to deal with someone else. It rarely happens any more, but he did run a case with Red Hood once, while back. Handing it over to Bruce he grins and waits for the other to put the ear piece in.]

Testing? That's better. They're ready to go. They got the last plate traded off, and think that makes them oh so secure from cops trailing them. I gave notice to Babs about the imminent take down, so they're set on standby. By the way, don't think I don't know why you wanted out of that party so much.

[Dick doesn't say the words, but he knows, of course he knows. He's been going to birthday bashes for so long. He's sick of them and all the shaking hands. Plus, he knows all the ways Bruce used to try to leave, usually on the arms of some lady as soon as possible. He was always so drunk, and such a prick on his birthday. This is better, so much better.]

( he doesn't say anything. simply takes the piece he's given and puts it in. typical, really, and something one needs to know how to translate and navigate when it comes to bruce or batman and his silence he often gives in response to things. if you can't read his looks or the sounds he makes, you won't get very far with him.

lucky for the both of them, dick here is used to it. used to both of him.

a glance over the side, he slowly trails his gaze over to dick— to nightwing. when he's dressed like this... when he dons the suit and takes the form of vengeance within the shadows of the night, he changes. the mask of bruce wayne comes off, leaving only the batman to be dealt with. not everyone seems to understand that — seems to like it even, but. dick's the first he's met who really understands the sacrifice that comes with living these two lives. with having these two selves. even if he's still the more talkative one between them. )

You needed my help for this? Seems easy enough.

( bruce also ignoring questions or statements directed at him that he doesn't want to talk about is another thing dick is probably used to. )

[Lifting a brow behind the mask, Dick wonders how Bruce got any of that from how he phrased it. He's not sure it went anything near that, but he shrugs. He knows for a damn fact that he didn't need Batman for anything. It was more that he might have wanted company, and Bat asked if he was wanted instead of a stuffy party. Dick agreed in order to get him out of the party.

Placing all the blame solely on Dick shoulders. Well, he wouldn't say anything because Bruce knew that he was already concocting a story in his head that would most likely leave him as a hero that saved Gotham from some giant evil creeps just waiting to destroy the world single-handedly with a meth lab. ]

Right, couldn't do it without you. You had to leave that party while I waited to wait with me another five minutes to follow three idiots to their shop so I can prove what it is while Bab's is on standby.

[Okay, maybe he'd rub it in a little bit. He'd get a look for sure, but it was fine. He didn't mind it. They had a few minutes left to ruffle feathers. Besides, what was a former Robin for if not to ruffle Batman's feathers and try to steal his thunder. ]

( he wouldn't know. what with not exactly having a partner outside of gordon sometimes and alfred. both who don't work the field the same ways he does.

you know. not caring for his own safety.

a slow glance over to dick, he looks back out ahead. into the night. assessing what he needs to in his head before he's looking back to the other man. the other caped crusader there alongside him. it's... strange. being around another in costume like this. so used to being around the gcpd and their looks of disdain thrown at him, minus gordon anyways. someone more like him is... hm. )

I can stay back and watch if you'd rather.

[There's a snort of quiet laughter through the earpiece. Dick is shaking his head as he looks over at Batman. He's used to going out with his mentor of course, and while they didn't speak often -- now and again Dick would be a pain in the ass and go out of his way to show his mentor up, or say something that would be very smart but stupid over the coms. The more Dick became Nightwing, the more playful he became. He was fully his own person when out with stupid criminals. It wasn't dark and threatening, it was far more his version of it. Yet--

This time Dick needed to remain cognizant that Bruce wasn't used to his antics. He wasn't used to having anyone around to train, be with or to have by his side. Dick's remarks could be seen as awkward shoves in the opposite direction. It was merely Nightwing being his quirky self. There was two sides to this man he knew, and Dick knew that, he really needed to remember it better until they got more used to working jobs together. ]

You know I wouldn't rather. I want you here. I'm a bunch of noise occasionally. It comes from working with a team, I think. Please, come with. The fun's about to start. Out the back door, on the bikes and follow them to the gold mines. Let's go.

[Without another word, Dick jumps from the back of the building, a hook on his belt keeping him from falling too fast. He lands with a flip and then moves over to where he stashed his bike. He's sure that Bat has his own transportation, and once the idiots are out and moving ahead-- he tosses a tail on them that he can follow on his dash without having to worry about staying too close. He thought to start singing, but then figured Bruce might not appreciate it, so he stops before he starts, even though he's got a really great voice.]

( from the looks of it, dick really is nightwing and nightwing is dick. hm. that's something he's not entirely used to. granted, maybe batman truly is bruce rather than bruce being batman, but. that's something to dissect over the coming years, not so much right now.

regardless, it's still his birthday and he'd rather deal with this than being stuck around a bunch of people he doesn't care to get to know, so. it's handling this and then seeing where the night goes.

dick's jumped off down to his bike there and bruce just stands there for a moment before he takes his leave from the rooftop. it's certainly going to take some getting used to being around another who leaps off buildings without so much as a second thought as he tends to do. gordon's not exactly the daring type in that department. still, he makes his way down to his car— the batmobile and slips inside it, eyeing dick some who doesn't seem to be too far from him. )

We get this over quick enough, maybe you can blow something after.

( still dryly said and who knows what bruce ever means with half the things he says, but. it's still his birthday. he could literally mean a candle on a cupcake for all anyone knows. )

[There's a laugh from Dick as he speeds around a corner on his bike. He loves his cars as much as Bruce loves them, but there's something about his Bike for missions. It's like the Batmobile. He's made it his to service his needs when the times arise. As the get closer to the warehouse that seems to serve as an overall base of operations, Dick slows and can speak again. ]

I'm sure you'd like that for your birthday. It could be arranged after this. If that's what you really want. I might even break out the icing, make it extra special.

[There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone, but the majority of his statement was fairly flat without much inflection as he slipped back into work mode, which included getting the lay of the area around him since he'd only taken in this building by aerial and as a possible location. He wasn't expecting much resistance, but without preparation or inspection, that's when things went sideways and the last thing Dick wanted tonight was for things to go sideways.

Hearing Bruce pull up, he moved to the car. ]

You want to check security detail on the west side and back of the building and I'll confirm the east, and that there's only these four goons out front. I don't see canines, but I don't want to be caught fighting dogs out of the blue. It really ruins my night when there are dogs I don't know about.

from here.

( when dick arrives, bruce is sitting upright in bed and he looks... miserable. in every. single. way. of the word.

completely ignoring the fact that his expression is one that is unimpressed with his forced bedrest, he's covered in bruises and injuries to an extent that he doesn't usually wear. a busted lip, shoulder wrapped with arm in a sling, ribs bandaged. he's not usually this bad, but. clearly he got into it and alfred, being the one to see him in such a state upon his return, forced him here to bed immediately.

blue eyes fall to dick when the man makes his way in, eyeing in particular the things he seems to have brought with him. pillows there at his back, he shifts some, annoyed with his lack of two arms currently, and lolls his head to the side. even before anything's said, he just gets it out of the way. )

It's not as bad as it looks.

( that's obviously a lie, but. when have either of them ever not brushed off their injuries and nearly made alfred have an aneurysm because of doing so? )

[My. There's a rather tight inhale when Dick walks in. He knows what Bruce is going to say, because it's what they say. They both move until they can't. It doesn't ever matter how bad they look or if they've got a broken wing or not. Dick has all but bled out and still tried to keep going. He might have fainted and ended up in the hospital -- damn those Titans. He would have gone on otherwise. There are many reasons he keeps stocked safehouses all over Gotham. He and Jason both do, and they also pilfer older ones, set up by their mentor.

With a sigh that's kept to himself as much as it can be, Dick moves around the bed and to the side where Bruce looks least banged up, the one that doesn't have the broken arm. He sets the stuff out of reach for now, and leans in. He pushes his nose against Bruce's as a means to say hello, and all the other things it says. Let it be annoying. It's what he has to be saying for now. ]

Who do I need to go out and set up against for doing this to you.

[There are darkly serious eyes as they look towards Bruce. He has a feeling that if Bruce didn't finish them off, he won't tell-- but that doesn't stop Dick from trying and it won't stop him from snooping around and finding out someway, somehow later if Bruce doesn't eventually cough it up. Dick can ask for help if he wants it, and considering what Bruce looks like, he might just. It all depends.]

I don't care if you're not hurt, I feel like kicking someone's ass for you.

( the gentle nosing is enough. eyes falling shut. a breath just barely there on his lips. it's... nice. to have. to feel. to have and feel dick here with him. )

I've had worse.

( a beat, letting eyes flutter open slowly. )

So have you.

( it's a guess, in hindsight, but. one which he feels is too close to being the truth that he doesn't think dick will tell him otherwise. also... he's the one who died between them, so. there's that.

he leans back against the pillows he's resting against, a slight shift of his arm there in the sling. he reaches out with his other hand, the one that wears a few nicks on it and cradles dick's face with it. silent. simply taking a moment to stare at the other man. gestures like these speak more than words ever could for bruce and he hopes dick knows that. knows this means he cares. that he's... that it's nice to have him here. )

Don't suppose you could convince Alfred to let me out of bed come morning.

That doesn't mean that I didn't need the rest as much as I hated it, or mean that someone didn't need their ass beat.

[He's been there the same, and worse in some situations. Dick doesn't know how many times he's been in an actual hospital, because his mentor always frowned on those, but there were times with the Titans he had to go in. It's always difficult to explain away all the damage done to his body to all the do gooders in a hospital that always wanted to report everything to people who probably should know, but really didn't need to. It got so complicated at times.

There was also the death. That doesn't mean that Dick's not concerned when there's only injuries. He's always been like that.

Feeling Bruce's hand on his face does a lot to alleviate the unsettled feeling in his gut. It's all a part of their job. It's an easy thing to say, and watching one another get hurt is one thing, but not being there immediately on the other side of it is more difficult. It would have felt better if Dick had been the one cleaning up some of these wounds, and putting Bruce to bed himself.

Moving his head slightly, he kisses the roughened palm and holds it there for a few seconds. The bed is big, and Bruce slides in gently on the side, careful not to nudge any bruised or broken ribs knowing how much those hurt when there's nothing to be done for them. He just needs to be close, to know for a while Bruce is alright, to feel his body heat, to smell his smell, to watch those eyes as they consider, frown and soften.]

How many days did he give you in confinement or is he not telling you? I might be able to lessen your sentence, but I don't think he'll let you out tomorrow. Some of these bruises will have to green up a little, and you'll have to gain a little more working in the arm. I might be able to spring you for a trip to the coffee shop in two days?

( it's best he didn't. patch him up, that is. bruce makes for a difficult patient as dick may or may not know.

the possible compromise of sorts has bruce giving a grunt of dissatisfaction, one dick is likely familiar with from his own mentor and while he doesn't pull away from the other man, it's clear he's a little frustrated with the option given to him. two days? he's been in here long enough as far as he's concerned. bruce hates to be doing nothing. it drives him... batty. up the wall, really. to think how much time is wasted and slips away from him while he lays here in bed when he's quite capable of still moving... it annoys him and he knows dick can see it all over his face.

a sigh on his lips, he gives a brief shake of his head. gazing off ahead. slowly licking over his lips. )

I can still walk.

( as if that might help his case any in being let out of here. )

It's just an overreaction.

[It doesn't matter if he did or didn't patch him up, it's the desire that's important. Dick is also a terrible patient and would rather take care of himself than have anyone else touch him, unless it's a wound in his back that has to be repaired, then he usually hands over the glue or at worst the stapler and lets someone have at it. The last time he was shot through the shoulder it cost him time at home, but no one was keeping him locked to a bed.

He leans over and kisses Bruce on the cheek, nosing against the bruising there. He knows that it's sore, but they tend to make themselves more sore whenever they have sex. Bruises are nothing in the grand world of Dick, Bruce, Nightwing or The Batman. Dick knows that Bruce can handle that everything that comes at him, even when he's worrying.

Rolling back out of bed, Dick grabs his bag and the cases in it, along with his laptop and spreads them all across the bed, closing the door and putting up a do not disturbed sign he brought with him. Let Alfred think he wants to come in on them now. The man may be some things, but dumb has never been one of them. Hand jobs do not require health or much movement on the part of the one receiving. ]

You can still walk, and I wouldn't make you sit in this bed. I'd go nuts. Now, walk if you want, if you start to pant over your rib, sit for a little bit and look at these cases with me. There are several murders and while they have a prospect, it doesn't sit right with me. It's far too easy and clean, and this doesn't feel like that. These women didn't have anything for a mugging, and they weren't all out at any one time or place. This guy confessed, but he seems bored, like he'd confess just to get out of doing the laundry.

Dick & Bruce PSL Open Post/Overflow/Inbox

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