Love on top - Bruce/Dick
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Bruce’s newest secretary is already packing up her things in the front when Dick gets off the elevator with a picnic basket from one of the fancy little delicatessens that cater to the rich and lazy downtown.
The young woman is barely older than Tim, fresh out of community college in Metropolis and happy enough about working for one of the most important men in Gotham City that she doesn’t even seem to notice the miasma of darkness and decay that normally surrounds the city. She smiles when she sees Dick and ducks her head as though Dick doesn’t come in to have lunch with Bruce at least once a week.
Dick smiles back at the younger woman, feeling warm all the way down to his soul from planning things for the day.
“It’s good to see you again, Sherri,” he says propping one side of his hip on her desk so that he can chat for a few seconds before heading in to stuff Bruce’s stomach and blow his mind. “How’s the hunt for a good grad school going? You know, if you want any help at all, I can talk to Bruce for you.”
At the mention of her boss, Sherri turns red and pushes a stick-straight strand of brown hair behind her air. She dusts off the front of her skirt and smiles without looking back at Dick.
“I-it’s fine,” she says as Dick slides off of her desk. “I’m looking at Gotham U for my next degree and I think I might be able to afford the program as long as I stay here.” She sounds pleased with herself and then she jumps, snapping to attention as she remembers something from earlier.
“I’m sorry,” Sherri says once she finishes pushing her things into her massive purse, “I shouldn’t be keeping you. Mr. Wayne is expecting you for your um... date, but here I am being a distraction.” She titters nervously and then steps out from behind her desk with her bag slung over one shoulder. “Have a good day, Mr. Grayson.”
Dick lifts his hand and waves at Sherri, already more focused on the two double doors separating him from Bruce than on anything else going on outside. He vaguely remembers muttering “You too, Sherri,” but the doors to Bruce’s office swing open at that exact moment and pretty much everything stops mattering. Everything except for how Bruce is looking at him and how he must have been watching the cameras like a hawk in order to flip the remote switch for the doors so quickly.
“Are you going to come in or do I have to fetch you?”
The tone of Bruce’s voice, rather than the question itself, makes Dick feel flushed and his grip tightens around the wooden handle of the picnic basket. He takes a few steps forward, crossing over the threshold of Bruce’s cavernous office until the doors swing shut behind him.
Bruce’s office is dark in the middle of the afternoon thanks to the panels hanging in front of every single one of the floor to ceiling windows that give Bruce a coveted view of the city.
Normally, Bruce keeps some of the opaque panels pulled so that some light can brighten his office, but when he’s expecting Dick to come and monopolize his time... Bruce just doesn’t bother with natural light when Dick’s just going to leave him in the dark anyway. High above the city, high above the fog and smoke, the top office in Wayne Tower feels as though it’s above and outside the everyday chaos of ground level Gotham.
Dick looks around at the sparsely furnished room and rests the hand not burdened by the basket on his cocked hip.
“You moved the furniture around,” he says, as he notices that Bruce’s desk is no longer located on the side of the office that overlooks the park. He uses the basket to gesture at the little casual area near the doors where a decent-sized couch sits cattycorner to a low coffee table. “And is that set up new?”
“Someone,” and here Bruce inserts a significant and weighted pause as he looks at Dick over the top of his desk, “suggested that I make the office more comfortable for their visits. I couldn’t just ignore them.”
Dick makes a pleased sound and then sets the basket down on the table. He flings himself backward, dropping onto the couch without holding anything back and sighs when the couch doesn’t so much as groan underneath his weight. Dick shifts against the cushions and closes his eyes, relaxing as he listens to the sound of Bruce clicking away over at his desktop.
“It’s a nice couch,” Dick says eventually, when the pleasure that comes from making himself comfortable on the couch starts to wear away.
Bruce’s voice comes from almost right on top of Dick and he speaks through the squawking noise that Dick makes as he flinches and almost flies up off the couch. “I’m glad you like it, Dick,” Bruce says, smiling as he looks down at Dick’s face and starts to lean down until their mouths are almost brushing despite their positioning. “I bought it with you in mind.”
Their first kiss since before falling asleep in the early morning hours after patrol is chaste. Bruce has considerable skill with kissing, but even that can’t make their upside-down kiss anything but awkward. He pulls away from Dick’s smiling mouth and then comes around to the other side of the couch so that he can sit at his partner’s side.
Dick reaches for Bruce’s hand the second that Bruce sits down, twining their fingers together as though he thinks that Bruce will so much as think about leaving to go back to his desk now.
“What else did you do with me in mind?” Dick asks, waggling his eyebrows in a way that’s guaranteed to put a small smile on Bruce’s handsome face as his fingers flex against Dick’s own.
Bruce smiles at Dick. He leans in and kisses the other man in lieu of an immediate answer, flicking his tongue into Dick’s mouth as he settles the hand not holding fast to Dick’s fingers on the other man’s hip. When Dick responds with a low, eager moan and kisses Bruce back as he pushes his way into his lap.
They neck like teenagers for several minutes until Bruce seems to remember that he had been in the middle of teasing Dick. He pulls away from Dick’s mouth with a wet noise and then licks his lips even though they’re already slick.
“What else,” Bruce says, reluctantly returning to his train of thought as Dick scratches his nails over the short hairs at the nape of his neck and wriggles close until Bruce settles a hand against his hip to still him. “You’ll find out soon enough, Dick.” He kisses Dick again, quick and as sweet as he can make it. “I’m starving, Dick, and I--”
Dick frowns and lays his fingers across Bruce’s mouth, silencing him with that gentle touch. He narrows his eyes at Bruce and the frown turning down his mouth repeats in his expressive eyes. “Don’t tell me that you haven’t eaten all day, Bruce.”
All Bruce can do is shrug his shoulders and offer Dick a hopeful smile. “Alfred made me breakfast before I left for work,” he says as he drags his thumb in circles over the slice of scarred gold-hued skin revealed in between the hem of Dick’s crisp white shirt and the waistband of his slacks.
“And did you eat it?” Dick tilts his head slightly to the side and gives Bruce a shrewd look. He’s always been able to see right through Bruce and it never shows more vividly than when they’re sitting close together and all of his tells are on full display. “I don’t mean a few bites, Bruce. I know you gave me half of your sandwich in the morning when we got back so I know you have to be hungry.”
Bruce offers Dick a small shrug and says, “I ate enough. I was planning to eat more when I got to work, but I got caught up with things.”
Dick rolls his eyes and then shifts to the side, getting out of Bruce’s lap so that they’re no longer touching except for the press of their thighs together and the almost painful knock of their kneecaps when one of them shifts. He leans forward and hooks his index finger in the handle of the basket, pulling it towards him across the table. When it’s close enough for him to undo the closures, Dick turns back towards Bruce and makes sure that the expression on his face is a serious one.
“I don’t want to hear any excuses,” he says in a stern tone. “I didn’t risk hurting Alfred’s feelings by not asking him to make this basket for us only for you to talk your way out of it. I had the restaurant staff make your favorite foods and I really want you to act like your image for a change.” Dick touches Bruce’s knee through his expensive trousers and lets his gaze soften a little. “I’m sure poor Sherri could have heard your stomach growling from all the way outside. Let me spoil you.”
Bruce nods his head once and covers Dick’s hand with his own. “Just this once,” he says even though they both know that Bruce can’t say no to Dick when they’re like this.
“That’s what you think,” Dick mutters under his breath as he unlatches the top of the picnic basket and starts pulling out covered containers of food. He gets everything uncovered so that steam rises from the top of the hot plates and then hands Bruce a sturdy paper plate. “If you’re good, maybe I’ll feed you strawberries once we’re done.”
Bruce laughs, pushing the rumbling sound out from his chest as he watches Dick serve them both healthy portions of what looks like an entire four-course meal. “You make the best promises, Dick.”
Dick snorts and the inelegant noise goes a long way to getting Bruce’s blood pumping in his chest. He curls his finders underneath the rim of his own plate and settles back against the couch until he and Bruce are touching from hip to knee with barely any space between them. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, boss,” he says, gracing Bruce with a cheeky little grin turning up his mouth.
*
Bruce still tastes like strawberries.
It’s a given considering the way that the juice from almost a half-hour earlier has Bruce’s thin lips stained red, but Dick makes a low noise for that initial clue as he sucks on Bruce’s tongue just as lewd as he wants to be. He cups the back of Bruce’s head as they kiss, shapes his hand to the other man’s skull and then thumbs over the scars he finds hidden under short black hair.
Dick sighs into Bruce’s mouth as he feels strong fingers come to rest against the skin of his lower back, brushing over the trail of hair leading down to his bare ass and making Dick shudder and squirm with his knees digging into the carpet on either side of Bruce’s tree trunk-thick thighs.
When Bruce’s fingers go no further, Dick feels a thrill in his chest from the realization of what Bruce wants from him. He breaks the kiss in stages, dragging out the end of the kiss for as long as he can until Bruce is groaning underneath him, digging his fingers into Dick’s skin until it hurts.
“I want to hear you say it,” Dick says once he’s torn himself away from Bruce’s mouth and he can look down at his partner’s dark eyes.
Bruce looks up at him and already, one thick black eyebrow has gone up. “Say what?”
Dick rocks his hips forward, rubbing himself against Bruce’s groin and the heat of his body. He works himself shamelessly, grinding against the heavy nudge of Bruce’s cock against his own until he’s half tempted to let things only go this far.
He almost gets carried away, almost loses himself in the familiar slide of their bodies together in Bruce’s dark office. He opens his mouth to do it, but then Bruce’s breath catches in his throat and his hand slips to curl around the side of his hip. The desperation in that tight grip, in the way that Bruce can’t even focus enough to do more than squeeze Dick’s skin instead of guiding his thrusts is what makes Dick’s mind up on the spot.
Dick laughs, breathless with exhilaration and then smacks a kiss on Bruce’s cheek that leaves his lips stinging from the scratchy stubble there.
“Tell me that you want me to fuck you,” he says in a low, almost purring tone as Bruce tenses underneath him and his cock jerks faintly, spattering them both with precome. “I want to hear you say it for me.”
Bruce swallows once, adam’s apple bobbing as he tilts his head back against the couch cushions behind his head. He licks his lips and then gives Dick a look that seems to ask, “Do I really have to do this?”
Reading the look correctly, Dick laughs and kisses Bruce again with a quick peck on the lips. He leans backwards, bracing himself on Bruce’s strong thighs and grins at the look of want that flashes across his face. “It’d make my day,” Dick says as he strokes the very tips of his fingers over the shadowy stubble that darkens Bruce’s cheeks. “You get to hear me beg all the time, this isn’t even that bad. Unless I read you wrong and--”
“You didn’t,” Bruce says, voice rough as he pets the side of Dick’s hip with strong fingers. “You didn’t read me wrong. I don’t think that you can.”
He closes his eyes and then licks at the reddened flesh of his bottom lip as Dick sits astride his lap and rocks against him with little distracting motions of his lean hips. When he speaks again, when he says what Dick wants to hear in their intimate moment, Bruce’s voice has an undertone of something tender and almost fragile underneath it.
“But I would like you to fuck me,” Bruce says, blushing as though Dick isn’t twice as filthy when he’s spread out underneath Bruce’s bigger body and begging for it. “I have lubricant and condoms on the underside of the table if you don’t have your own.”
Dick rewards Bruce with a wiggly, sloppy kiss that leaves them both out of breath. When Dick pulls away and makes to roll out of Bruce’s lap, Bruce makes a desperate noise and tries to reach for him.
“Not now,” Dick says, pushing Bruce’s hand away so that he can crawl across the carpet to the table. As he rifles around underneath the table, Dick addresses Bruce again, looking at the other man from out of the corner of eye. “If you don’t come while I’m fucking you, maybe I’ll let you bend me over your desk and fuck me.”
“And if I do come?” Bruce’s face is hungry, predatory in a way that normally makes Dick want to drop to his knees and open his mouth. “I won’t be able to do it then.”
This time however, Dick merely laughs and pats Bruce’s naked knee.
The smile on his own face is sharp and he knows it’s not necessarily a nice smile. It can’t be. Not with Bruce so close, so naked, so... seconds away from getting fucked into the couch cushions that Dick has to tell himself to be patient before he makes a fool out of himself.
“That’s called your refractory period, sweetie,” Dick says, laughing again when Bruce narrows his eyes and growls at him for using such a ridiculous nickname. “We’ll take a nap and then eat some more while we wait for your body to do what your brain wants. If you still want me then, I’ll make it easy for you.”
“I always want you,” Bruce confesses, words all in a rush even though Dick knows by now how he feels. “Always.” He curls his fingers into fists against his thigh in the same way that he would curl them into the fabric of his trousers were they not currently covering a big beige lamp in the corner of his office. “I’m sorry... It appears that I’m not really good at begging.”
Dick shakes his head, still smiling. “I know,” he says, “But this is better.”
He claps his hands together sharp enough to make Bruce jump a little and then looks at his lover with a calculating flint in his eyes. “Now I think I’d like you to get on your knees and rest your upper body on the couch. It’ll be much easier to get you open for me.”
When Bruce simply sits there and looks at Dick as though stunned, Dick rolls his eyes and nudges his shoulder with the hand not curled around the lube and condom from underneath the coffee table. “Any minute now, Bruce...”
Bruce moves slower than usual, but he does move. In no time at all, he’s on his knees in front of Dick, kneeling in such a way that makes the sway of his heavy cock and balls in the air even more noticeable. He can’t ignore how exposed being like this for Dick means, can’t stop glancing back over his shoulder when he feels Dick lay one hand over the top of his ass and start to stroke.
“I wish I could give you some kind of medal for your ass,” Dick says as he gets both his hands properly reacquainted with Bruce’s ass. “God, I know I get looks, but if Black Canary or Vixen could see what you have going on under the cape... There’d be a lot more flirting going on at the Watchtower.” He slaps Bruce’s ass lightly, smacking him hard enough one one cheek that a reddish mark appears on its surface, and then ducks his head so that he can lick a wet line over the skin there.
Bruce bites his lip hard on instinct and then nearly bites through the tender skin there when Dick slaps the other side of his ass.
“Don’t forget, Bruce,” Dick says, “I know when you’re holding back.” His fingers, now slick with lubricant, slide down the cleft of Bruce’s ass and circle his hole with a light touch. “I want to hear you make noise for me.”
Bruce groans and then says, “Maybe if you stopped teasing me and actually did something I’d be louder,” in a voice filled with frustration.
Dick laughs at the same time that he presses in with one finger and Bruce’s body shudders. Bruce’s groan nearly covers the sound of that laughter, but he doesn’t miss what comes next.
“Oh I intend to, Bruce,” Dick says as he starts to thrust with that lone finger, “I intend to.”
Bruce’s newest secretary is already packing up her things in the front when Dick gets off the elevator with a picnic basket from one of the fancy little delicatessens that cater to the rich and lazy downtown.
The young woman is barely older than Tim, fresh out of community college in Metropolis and happy enough about working for one of the most important men in Gotham City that she doesn’t even seem to notice the miasma of darkness and decay that normally surrounds the city. She smiles when she sees Dick and ducks her head as though Dick doesn’t come in to have lunch with Bruce at least once a week.
Dick smiles back at the younger woman, feeling warm all the way down to his soul from planning things for the day.
“It’s good to see you again, Sherri,” he says propping one side of his hip on her desk so that he can chat for a few seconds before heading in to stuff Bruce’s stomach and blow his mind. “How’s the hunt for a good grad school going? You know, if you want any help at all, I can talk to Bruce for you.”
At the mention of her boss, Sherri turns red and pushes a stick-straight strand of brown hair behind her air. She dusts off the front of her skirt and smiles without looking back at Dick.
“I-it’s fine,” she says as Dick slides off of her desk. “I’m looking at Gotham U for my next degree and I think I might be able to afford the program as long as I stay here.” She sounds pleased with herself and then she jumps, snapping to attention as she remembers something from earlier.
“I’m sorry,” Sherri says once she finishes pushing her things into her massive purse, “I shouldn’t be keeping you. Mr. Wayne is expecting you for your um... date, but here I am being a distraction.” She titters nervously and then steps out from behind her desk with her bag slung over one shoulder. “Have a good day, Mr. Grayson.”
Dick lifts his hand and waves at Sherri, already more focused on the two double doors separating him from Bruce than on anything else going on outside. He vaguely remembers muttering “You too, Sherri,” but the doors to Bruce’s office swing open at that exact moment and pretty much everything stops mattering. Everything except for how Bruce is looking at him and how he must have been watching the cameras like a hawk in order to flip the remote switch for the doors so quickly.
“Are you going to come in or do I have to fetch you?”
The tone of Bruce’s voice, rather than the question itself, makes Dick feel flushed and his grip tightens around the wooden handle of the picnic basket. He takes a few steps forward, crossing over the threshold of Bruce’s cavernous office until the doors swing shut behind him.
Bruce’s office is dark in the middle of the afternoon thanks to the panels hanging in front of every single one of the floor to ceiling windows that give Bruce a coveted view of the city.
Normally, Bruce keeps some of the opaque panels pulled so that some light can brighten his office, but when he’s expecting Dick to come and monopolize his time... Bruce just doesn’t bother with natural light when Dick’s just going to leave him in the dark anyway. High above the city, high above the fog and smoke, the top office in Wayne Tower feels as though it’s above and outside the everyday chaos of ground level Gotham.
Dick looks around at the sparsely furnished room and rests the hand not burdened by the basket on his cocked hip.
“You moved the furniture around,” he says, as he notices that Bruce’s desk is no longer located on the side of the office that overlooks the park. He uses the basket to gesture at the little casual area near the doors where a decent-sized couch sits cattycorner to a low coffee table. “And is that set up new?”
“Someone,” and here Bruce inserts a significant and weighted pause as he looks at Dick over the top of his desk, “suggested that I make the office more comfortable for their visits. I couldn’t just ignore them.”
Dick makes a pleased sound and then sets the basket down on the table. He flings himself backward, dropping onto the couch without holding anything back and sighs when the couch doesn’t so much as groan underneath his weight. Dick shifts against the cushions and closes his eyes, relaxing as he listens to the sound of Bruce clicking away over at his desktop.
“It’s a nice couch,” Dick says eventually, when the pleasure that comes from making himself comfortable on the couch starts to wear away.
Bruce’s voice comes from almost right on top of Dick and he speaks through the squawking noise that Dick makes as he flinches and almost flies up off the couch. “I’m glad you like it, Dick,” Bruce says, smiling as he looks down at Dick’s face and starts to lean down until their mouths are almost brushing despite their positioning. “I bought it with you in mind.”
Their first kiss since before falling asleep in the early morning hours after patrol is chaste. Bruce has considerable skill with kissing, but even that can’t make their upside-down kiss anything but awkward. He pulls away from Dick’s smiling mouth and then comes around to the other side of the couch so that he can sit at his partner’s side.
Dick reaches for Bruce’s hand the second that Bruce sits down, twining their fingers together as though he thinks that Bruce will so much as think about leaving to go back to his desk now.
“What else did you do with me in mind?” Dick asks, waggling his eyebrows in a way that’s guaranteed to put a small smile on Bruce’s handsome face as his fingers flex against Dick’s own.
Bruce smiles at Dick. He leans in and kisses the other man in lieu of an immediate answer, flicking his tongue into Dick’s mouth as he settles the hand not holding fast to Dick’s fingers on the other man’s hip. When Dick responds with a low, eager moan and kisses Bruce back as he pushes his way into his lap.
They neck like teenagers for several minutes until Bruce seems to remember that he had been in the middle of teasing Dick. He pulls away from Dick’s mouth with a wet noise and then licks his lips even though they’re already slick.
“What else,” Bruce says, reluctantly returning to his train of thought as Dick scratches his nails over the short hairs at the nape of his neck and wriggles close until Bruce settles a hand against his hip to still him. “You’ll find out soon enough, Dick.” He kisses Dick again, quick and as sweet as he can make it. “I’m starving, Dick, and I--”
Dick frowns and lays his fingers across Bruce’s mouth, silencing him with that gentle touch. He narrows his eyes at Bruce and the frown turning down his mouth repeats in his expressive eyes. “Don’t tell me that you haven’t eaten all day, Bruce.”
All Bruce can do is shrug his shoulders and offer Dick a hopeful smile. “Alfred made me breakfast before I left for work,” he says as he drags his thumb in circles over the slice of scarred gold-hued skin revealed in between the hem of Dick’s crisp white shirt and the waistband of his slacks.
“And did you eat it?” Dick tilts his head slightly to the side and gives Bruce a shrewd look. He’s always been able to see right through Bruce and it never shows more vividly than when they’re sitting close together and all of his tells are on full display. “I don’t mean a few bites, Bruce. I know you gave me half of your sandwich in the morning when we got back so I know you have to be hungry.”
Bruce offers Dick a small shrug and says, “I ate enough. I was planning to eat more when I got to work, but I got caught up with things.”
Dick rolls his eyes and then shifts to the side, getting out of Bruce’s lap so that they’re no longer touching except for the press of their thighs together and the almost painful knock of their kneecaps when one of them shifts. He leans forward and hooks his index finger in the handle of the basket, pulling it towards him across the table. When it’s close enough for him to undo the closures, Dick turns back towards Bruce and makes sure that the expression on his face is a serious one.
“I don’t want to hear any excuses,” he says in a stern tone. “I didn’t risk hurting Alfred’s feelings by not asking him to make this basket for us only for you to talk your way out of it. I had the restaurant staff make your favorite foods and I really want you to act like your image for a change.” Dick touches Bruce’s knee through his expensive trousers and lets his gaze soften a little. “I’m sure poor Sherri could have heard your stomach growling from all the way outside. Let me spoil you.”
Bruce nods his head once and covers Dick’s hand with his own. “Just this once,” he says even though they both know that Bruce can’t say no to Dick when they’re like this.
“That’s what you think,” Dick mutters under his breath as he unlatches the top of the picnic basket and starts pulling out covered containers of food. He gets everything uncovered so that steam rises from the top of the hot plates and then hands Bruce a sturdy paper plate. “If you’re good, maybe I’ll feed you strawberries once we’re done.”
Bruce laughs, pushing the rumbling sound out from his chest as he watches Dick serve them both healthy portions of what looks like an entire four-course meal. “You make the best promises, Dick.”
Dick snorts and the inelegant noise goes a long way to getting Bruce’s blood pumping in his chest. He curls his finders underneath the rim of his own plate and settles back against the couch until he and Bruce are touching from hip to knee with barely any space between them. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, boss,” he says, gracing Bruce with a cheeky little grin turning up his mouth.
*
Bruce still tastes like strawberries.
It’s a given considering the way that the juice from almost a half-hour earlier has Bruce’s thin lips stained red, but Dick makes a low noise for that initial clue as he sucks on Bruce’s tongue just as lewd as he wants to be. He cups the back of Bruce’s head as they kiss, shapes his hand to the other man’s skull and then thumbs over the scars he finds hidden under short black hair.
Dick sighs into Bruce’s mouth as he feels strong fingers come to rest against the skin of his lower back, brushing over the trail of hair leading down to his bare ass and making Dick shudder and squirm with his knees digging into the carpet on either side of Bruce’s tree trunk-thick thighs.
When Bruce’s fingers go no further, Dick feels a thrill in his chest from the realization of what Bruce wants from him. He breaks the kiss in stages, dragging out the end of the kiss for as long as he can until Bruce is groaning underneath him, digging his fingers into Dick’s skin until it hurts.
“I want to hear you say it,” Dick says once he’s torn himself away from Bruce’s mouth and he can look down at his partner’s dark eyes.
Bruce looks up at him and already, one thick black eyebrow has gone up. “Say what?”
Dick rocks his hips forward, rubbing himself against Bruce’s groin and the heat of his body. He works himself shamelessly, grinding against the heavy nudge of Bruce’s cock against his own until he’s half tempted to let things only go this far.
He almost gets carried away, almost loses himself in the familiar slide of their bodies together in Bruce’s dark office. He opens his mouth to do it, but then Bruce’s breath catches in his throat and his hand slips to curl around the side of his hip. The desperation in that tight grip, in the way that Bruce can’t even focus enough to do more than squeeze Dick’s skin instead of guiding his thrusts is what makes Dick’s mind up on the spot.
Dick laughs, breathless with exhilaration and then smacks a kiss on Bruce’s cheek that leaves his lips stinging from the scratchy stubble there.
“Tell me that you want me to fuck you,” he says in a low, almost purring tone as Bruce tenses underneath him and his cock jerks faintly, spattering them both with precome. “I want to hear you say it for me.”
Bruce swallows once, adam’s apple bobbing as he tilts his head back against the couch cushions behind his head. He licks his lips and then gives Dick a look that seems to ask, “Do I really have to do this?”
Reading the look correctly, Dick laughs and kisses Bruce again with a quick peck on the lips. He leans backwards, bracing himself on Bruce’s strong thighs and grins at the look of want that flashes across his face. “It’d make my day,” Dick says as he strokes the very tips of his fingers over the shadowy stubble that darkens Bruce’s cheeks. “You get to hear me beg all the time, this isn’t even that bad. Unless I read you wrong and--”
“You didn’t,” Bruce says, voice rough as he pets the side of Dick’s hip with strong fingers. “You didn’t read me wrong. I don’t think that you can.”
He closes his eyes and then licks at the reddened flesh of his bottom lip as Dick sits astride his lap and rocks against him with little distracting motions of his lean hips. When he speaks again, when he says what Dick wants to hear in their intimate moment, Bruce’s voice has an undertone of something tender and almost fragile underneath it.
“But I would like you to fuck me,” Bruce says, blushing as though Dick isn’t twice as filthy when he’s spread out underneath Bruce’s bigger body and begging for it. “I have lubricant and condoms on the underside of the table if you don’t have your own.”
Dick rewards Bruce with a wiggly, sloppy kiss that leaves them both out of breath. When Dick pulls away and makes to roll out of Bruce’s lap, Bruce makes a desperate noise and tries to reach for him.
“Not now,” Dick says, pushing Bruce’s hand away so that he can crawl across the carpet to the table. As he rifles around underneath the table, Dick addresses Bruce again, looking at the other man from out of the corner of eye. “If you don’t come while I’m fucking you, maybe I’ll let you bend me over your desk and fuck me.”
“And if I do come?” Bruce’s face is hungry, predatory in a way that normally makes Dick want to drop to his knees and open his mouth. “I won’t be able to do it then.”
This time however, Dick merely laughs and pats Bruce’s naked knee.
The smile on his own face is sharp and he knows it’s not necessarily a nice smile. It can’t be. Not with Bruce so close, so naked, so... seconds away from getting fucked into the couch cushions that Dick has to tell himself to be patient before he makes a fool out of himself.
“That’s called your refractory period, sweetie,” Dick says, laughing again when Bruce narrows his eyes and growls at him for using such a ridiculous nickname. “We’ll take a nap and then eat some more while we wait for your body to do what your brain wants. If you still want me then, I’ll make it easy for you.”
“I always want you,” Bruce confesses, words all in a rush even though Dick knows by now how he feels. “Always.” He curls his fingers into fists against his thigh in the same way that he would curl them into the fabric of his trousers were they not currently covering a big beige lamp in the corner of his office. “I’m sorry... It appears that I’m not really good at begging.”
Dick shakes his head, still smiling. “I know,” he says, “But this is better.”
He claps his hands together sharp enough to make Bruce jump a little and then looks at his lover with a calculating flint in his eyes. “Now I think I’d like you to get on your knees and rest your upper body on the couch. It’ll be much easier to get you open for me.”
When Bruce simply sits there and looks at Dick as though stunned, Dick rolls his eyes and nudges his shoulder with the hand not curled around the lube and condom from underneath the coffee table. “Any minute now, Bruce...”
Bruce moves slower than usual, but he does move. In no time at all, he’s on his knees in front of Dick, kneeling in such a way that makes the sway of his heavy cock and balls in the air even more noticeable. He can’t ignore how exposed being like this for Dick means, can’t stop glancing back over his shoulder when he feels Dick lay one hand over the top of his ass and start to stroke.
“I wish I could give you some kind of medal for your ass,” Dick says as he gets both his hands properly reacquainted with Bruce’s ass. “God, I know I get looks, but if Black Canary or Vixen could see what you have going on under the cape... There’d be a lot more flirting going on at the Watchtower.” He slaps Bruce’s ass lightly, smacking him hard enough one one cheek that a reddish mark appears on its surface, and then ducks his head so that he can lick a wet line over the skin there.
Bruce bites his lip hard on instinct and then nearly bites through the tender skin there when Dick slaps the other side of his ass.
“Don’t forget, Bruce,” Dick says, “I know when you’re holding back.” His fingers, now slick with lubricant, slide down the cleft of Bruce’s ass and circle his hole with a light touch. “I want to hear you make noise for me.”
Bruce groans and then says, “Maybe if you stopped teasing me and actually did something I’d be louder,” in a voice filled with frustration.
Dick laughs at the same time that he presses in with one finger and Bruce’s body shudders. Bruce’s groan nearly covers the sound of that laughter, but he doesn’t miss what comes next.
“Oh I intend to, Bruce,” Dick says as he starts to thrust with that lone finger, “I intend to.”