Fic: Shining Light, Morning-Bright (1/1)
Title: Shining Light, Morning-Bright (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl
Pairings/Characters: Bruce/Dick
Genre: Drama
Rating: Mild ‘R’
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: What would an observer see in the master bedroom of Wayne Manor?
Date Of Completion: November 13, 2007
Date Of Posting: November 13, 2007
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 279
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: Written for my LJ First Anniversary Fic Request Meme for
cavaleira , who requested Bruce/Dick. Prompt: Sleep. :)
Quiet had settled over the spacious master bedroom, the only sounds that of steady breathing, an occasional light snore, and the sound of crashing waves behind thick panes of winter glass. An observer would have made note of the following:
Two bodies were entwined in the king-sized bed, black silk sheets bunched at its foot. The older man was taller and bigger, but appeared curiously vulnerable in sleep. His arms protectively/possessively encircled his smaller companion, who was settled comfortable in that circle, his head resting on a broad shoulder. Both bodies bore scars from the nature of their dangerous work.
The older man’s hair was shorter, his face aristocratic and chiseled, a strong jaw suggesting more than a streak of stubbornness, but his expression was peaceful.
The younger man’s hair, matching the elder’s in the color of midnight-blue, was slightly longer and shaggier, his face beautiful and with the air of a mischievous pixie on his features, a slight smile tugging at his lips even in sleep.
While the older man’s arms asserted his protectiveness, the younger man’s legs did for him, one leg wrapped around the other’s thigh, the other leg slipped in so that his foot could play with his lover’s when awake.
The older man’s hand had strayed to touch a buttock of his young lover’s, and the pixie’s hand rested comfortably on his mentor’s thigh.
Trust was their watchword.
Pearl-gray light streamed in through the windows that were flanked by tied-back drapes as clouds blocked the morning sun, but the lack of shining light did not disturb either man.
The older man’s shining light was already in his bed, and burned brightly in his heart.
Author: BradyGirl
Pairings/Characters: Bruce/Dick
Genre: Drama
Rating: Mild ‘R’
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: What would an observer see in the master bedroom of Wayne Manor?
Date Of Completion: November 13, 2007
Date Of Posting: November 13, 2007
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 279
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: Written for my LJ First Anniversary Fic Request Meme for
cavaleira , who requested Bruce/Dick. Prompt: Sleep. :)
Quiet had settled over the spacious master bedroom, the only sounds that of steady breathing, an occasional light snore, and the sound of crashing waves behind thick panes of winter glass. An observer would have made note of the following:
Two bodies were entwined in the king-sized bed, black silk sheets bunched at its foot. The older man was taller and bigger, but appeared curiously vulnerable in sleep. His arms protectively/possessively encircled his smaller companion, who was settled comfortable in that circle, his head resting on a broad shoulder. Both bodies bore scars from the nature of their dangerous work.
The older man’s hair was shorter, his face aristocratic and chiseled, a strong jaw suggesting more than a streak of stubbornness, but his expression was peaceful.
The younger man’s hair, matching the elder’s in the color of midnight-blue, was slightly longer and shaggier, his face beautiful and with the air of a mischievous pixie on his features, a slight smile tugging at his lips even in sleep.
While the older man’s arms asserted his protectiveness, the younger man’s legs did for him, one leg wrapped around the other’s thigh, the other leg slipped in so that his foot could play with his lover’s when awake.
The older man’s hand had strayed to touch a buttock of his young lover’s, and the pixie’s hand rested comfortably on his mentor’s thigh.
Trust was their watchword.
Pearl-gray light streamed in through the windows that were flanked by tied-back drapes as clouds blocked the morning sun, but the lack of shining light did not disturb either man.
The older man’s shining light was already in his bed, and burned brightly in his heart.