Fic: Baked & Stuffed ;) (1/1)
Title: Baked And Stuffed ;) (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Bruce/Dick
Genres: Challenge, Humor, Romance, Slice-Of-Life
Rating: NC-17
Claim: For my 2017 Bruce/Dick Bingo Card.
Prompt: Slow Burn
Pattern: Row C (Straight/Vertical Line Bingo) (1/3)
Prompt Count: (1/9)
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Dick knows how to use an elegant dinner to his advantage. ;)
Date Of Completion: February 22, 2017
Date Of Posting: April 17, 2017
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 994
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
“Hard-shelled lobster,
Inside,
Tender and sweet.
A tasty morsel
That can’t be beat.”
Patti Paigeley
“Old York Beach”
Decca Records
1957 C.E.
Bruce could feel his face heating up as Dick slowly savored his large piece of lobster. Dripping with butter, it was a sweet and flavorful morsel and Dick ate it with relish, making appreciative noises.
“Mmm, Bruce, nothing like lobster. We’ll have to go up to Maine this summer and get them fresh off the boat on the wharf, but baked, stuffed lobster will certainly do.” He smiled seductively, or maybe Bruce was just imagining it. “And those aphrodisiac oysters as appetizers. Wow, you sure know how to show a guy a good time.”
Bruce’s throat was dry and he sipped his champagne. “You deserve the best.”
“Aww.” Dick ate some saffron rice and eyed the lobster with predatory hunger. He took another bite of breadcrumb-covered goodness. “Mmm.”
Bruce poured another glass of champagne from the magnum chilling in the silver ice bucket. Chez Freneau was the most expensive restaurant in Gotham, and the food was excellent. How many times had he brought socialites and starlets to this place with seduction as the goal? Or at least the appearance of it.
Dick could enjoy hot dogs at Papa Jackson’s, the stand shaped like a frankfurter, or this five-star French restaurant. He was equally at home in blue-collar digs or a rich, jet-setting life.
Luckily for me.
He ate his own lobster, trying to distract himself, which was difficult as Dick was fully enjoying his dinner. And knowing Dick, he understood exactly what he was doing, the little tease. Dick’s lust for life had always included food. He could make a ham sandwich look like a gustatory orgasm.
Bruce was trying his best to look cool and in complete control and of course Dick was laughing at him. Blue eyes sparkled over the rim of his champagne flute.
You’re going to pay for this.
Dick seemed to read his mind and chuckled. Putting his glass down, he finished his lobster. “Excellent. The chef here is really top-notch.”
“Only the best for you.”
“Shall I get you the dessert menu, sirs?” asked their waiter as he discreetly approached the table.
Bruce was about to say no when Dick beamed and said, “Yes.”
“Very good, sir.” The waiter signaled a busboy to begin clearing the table.
“Actually, don’t bother with the menu. I’ll have the lemon meringue pie. What about you, Bruce?”
“Fine, the same for me.”
The waiter nodded and left as the busboy quickly did his work. Dick poured a fresh glass of champagne.
“You’re so generous, Bruce.”
“I’m glad you appreciate it.”
Dick drank deeply, his tanned throat exposed. Bruce crumpled his napkin.
Dick chattered about his college courses as he filled the silence. When the waiter arrived with their desserts, Dick was ready with his fork.
“Ah, this pie is the best! Tart lemon and sweet cream.” He licked the cream off his lip. “I love these stiff peaks, don’t you?”
Bruce slowly ate his slice of pie. It was excellent, of course. “Stiff is good.”
“Mmm, yes.”
Oh, you are so going to get it!
Dick laughed as he took another luscious bite.
& & & & & &
The Manor was quiet, as Alfred had gone to bed. Batgirl was patrolling for them tonight. Bruce definitely did not have crime on his mind.
Dick hung up their coats and began to climb the staircase. He looked back over his shoulder. “Coming?”
“Oh, yes.”
Following Dick was always a treat. Dick walked with grace, but the real showcase was that perfect derriere. He allowed himself the indulgence of watching as Dick walked.
Once in the master bedroom, Bruce quietly closed the door. Before Dick could turn around, Bruce grabbed him and growled, “Time to pay for dinner.” He saw the curve of Dick’s lips as he spun and pushed his lover facedown on the bed. “Will you be smiling when I’m done?”
“I’m counting on it.”
Bruce was quick, tearing off clothes as shirt buttons went flying. He removed his pants, shoes and socks and left his unbuttoned shirt and undone tie on. Dick was stretching, unconcerned, when Bruce yanked open the nightstand and pulled out a jar of cream. He lubed both of them and grabbed Dick’s hips, his fingers digging into pliant flesh. Without warning he thrust into Dick, who yelped in indignation.
“You tease, with your aphrodisiac oysters, buttered lobster, and stiff-peaked meringue! Every tease you made will be reckoned with now.”
“Oh, dear, oh, dear, what shall I do?”
“Laugh it up, my friend.”
Bruce took his time, enjoying the sensation of being sheathed in warm flesh. He had wanted this so badly all evening. He would take what his mischievous lover would give him in all the ways that mattered.
He grunted his pleasure and Dick grasped the sheets with white knuckles. His moans were music to Bruce’s ears.
And now Bruce immersed himself in pleasure, keeping up a steady rhythm as Dick got to his knees. “Deeper,” he growled.
Bruce complied, the rustle of silk sheets combining with their moans and slapping of flesh-on-flesh, a primal sound that thrummed through their bodies. Bruce remembered hot, sweet butter dripping and thrust a little harder. Sweat sheened his skin, matched by Dick. They always created their own heat.
He hit Dick’s sweet spot and the younger man keened as he arched his back. “Yes!” he cried, pushing back. Bruce thrust harder, his legs trembling as he wanted to soar as one with the only man he had ever loved.
He could feel himself on the edge, sweat-slick and grasping for that perfect release, almost getting there, and then…the pleasure tore through him, delicious and hot, and Dick whimpered beneath him, his body spasming with its own release.
Bruce leaned down, his face flushed, and whispered in Dick’s ear, “Now you’re baked and stuffed.”
Laughter shook Dick’s body as he said. “Bon appetit!”
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This entry has been cross-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment on either entry as you wish. :)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Bruce/Dick
Genres: Challenge, Humor, Romance, Slice-Of-Life
Rating: NC-17
Claim: For my 2017 Bruce/Dick Bingo Card.
Prompt: Slow Burn
Pattern: Row C (Straight/Vertical Line Bingo) (1/3)
Prompt Count: (1/9)
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Dick knows how to use an elegant dinner to his advantage. ;)
Date Of Completion: February 22, 2017
Date Of Posting: April 17, 2017
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 994
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
“Hard-shelled lobster,
Inside,
Tender and sweet.
A tasty morsel
That can’t be beat.”
Patti Paigeley
“Old York Beach”
Decca Records
1957 C.E.
Bruce could feel his face heating up as Dick slowly savored his large piece of lobster. Dripping with butter, it was a sweet and flavorful morsel and Dick ate it with relish, making appreciative noises.
“Mmm, Bruce, nothing like lobster. We’ll have to go up to Maine this summer and get them fresh off the boat on the wharf, but baked, stuffed lobster will certainly do.” He smiled seductively, or maybe Bruce was just imagining it. “And those aphrodisiac oysters as appetizers. Wow, you sure know how to show a guy a good time.”
Bruce’s throat was dry and he sipped his champagne. “You deserve the best.”
“Aww.” Dick ate some saffron rice and eyed the lobster with predatory hunger. He took another bite of breadcrumb-covered goodness. “Mmm.”
Bruce poured another glass of champagne from the magnum chilling in the silver ice bucket. Chez Freneau was the most expensive restaurant in Gotham, and the food was excellent. How many times had he brought socialites and starlets to this place with seduction as the goal? Or at least the appearance of it.
Dick could enjoy hot dogs at Papa Jackson’s, the stand shaped like a frankfurter, or this five-star French restaurant. He was equally at home in blue-collar digs or a rich, jet-setting life.
Luckily for me.
He ate his own lobster, trying to distract himself, which was difficult as Dick was fully enjoying his dinner. And knowing Dick, he understood exactly what he was doing, the little tease. Dick’s lust for life had always included food. He could make a ham sandwich look like a gustatory orgasm.
Bruce was trying his best to look cool and in complete control and of course Dick was laughing at him. Blue eyes sparkled over the rim of his champagne flute.
You’re going to pay for this.
Dick seemed to read his mind and chuckled. Putting his glass down, he finished his lobster. “Excellent. The chef here is really top-notch.”
“Only the best for you.”
“Shall I get you the dessert menu, sirs?” asked their waiter as he discreetly approached the table.
Bruce was about to say no when Dick beamed and said, “Yes.”
“Very good, sir.” The waiter signaled a busboy to begin clearing the table.
“Actually, don’t bother with the menu. I’ll have the lemon meringue pie. What about you, Bruce?”
“Fine, the same for me.”
The waiter nodded and left as the busboy quickly did his work. Dick poured a fresh glass of champagne.
“You’re so generous, Bruce.”
“I’m glad you appreciate it.”
Dick drank deeply, his tanned throat exposed. Bruce crumpled his napkin.
Dick chattered about his college courses as he filled the silence. When the waiter arrived with their desserts, Dick was ready with his fork.
“Ah, this pie is the best! Tart lemon and sweet cream.” He licked the cream off his lip. “I love these stiff peaks, don’t you?”
Bruce slowly ate his slice of pie. It was excellent, of course. “Stiff is good.”
“Mmm, yes.”
Oh, you are so going to get it!
Dick laughed as he took another luscious bite.
& & & & & &
The Manor was quiet, as Alfred had gone to bed. Batgirl was patrolling for them tonight. Bruce definitely did not have crime on his mind.
Dick hung up their coats and began to climb the staircase. He looked back over his shoulder. “Coming?”
“Oh, yes.”
Following Dick was always a treat. Dick walked with grace, but the real showcase was that perfect derriere. He allowed himself the indulgence of watching as Dick walked.
Once in the master bedroom, Bruce quietly closed the door. Before Dick could turn around, Bruce grabbed him and growled, “Time to pay for dinner.” He saw the curve of Dick’s lips as he spun and pushed his lover facedown on the bed. “Will you be smiling when I’m done?”
“I’m counting on it.”
Bruce was quick, tearing off clothes as shirt buttons went flying. He removed his pants, shoes and socks and left his unbuttoned shirt and undone tie on. Dick was stretching, unconcerned, when Bruce yanked open the nightstand and pulled out a jar of cream. He lubed both of them and grabbed Dick’s hips, his fingers digging into pliant flesh. Without warning he thrust into Dick, who yelped in indignation.
“You tease, with your aphrodisiac oysters, buttered lobster, and stiff-peaked meringue! Every tease you made will be reckoned with now.”
“Oh, dear, oh, dear, what shall I do?”
“Laugh it up, my friend.”
Bruce took his time, enjoying the sensation of being sheathed in warm flesh. He had wanted this so badly all evening. He would take what his mischievous lover would give him in all the ways that mattered.
He grunted his pleasure and Dick grasped the sheets with white knuckles. His moans were music to Bruce’s ears.
And now Bruce immersed himself in pleasure, keeping up a steady rhythm as Dick got to his knees. “Deeper,” he growled.
Bruce complied, the rustle of silk sheets combining with their moans and slapping of flesh-on-flesh, a primal sound that thrummed through their bodies. Bruce remembered hot, sweet butter dripping and thrust a little harder. Sweat sheened his skin, matched by Dick. They always created their own heat.
He hit Dick’s sweet spot and the younger man keened as he arched his back. “Yes!” he cried, pushing back. Bruce thrust harder, his legs trembling as he wanted to soar as one with the only man he had ever loved.
He could feel himself on the edge, sweat-slick and grasping for that perfect release, almost getting there, and then…the pleasure tore through him, delicious and hot, and Dick whimpered beneath him, his body spasming with its own release.
Bruce leaned down, his face flushed, and whispered in Dick’s ear, “Now you’re baked and stuffed.”
Laughter shook Dick’s body as he said. “Bon appetit!”
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This entry has been cross-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment on either entry as you wish. :)