Fic: Holiday Preparations (DCU - Bruce/Dick) 1/1
Title: Holiday Preparations
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Bruce/Dick
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 591
Summary: Bruce broods over another bad year. A surprise visitor is determined to cheer him up.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darn it.
Author's Note: Written on the spot for bradygirl_12. *hugs her*
Holiday Preparations
When Alfred suggested it was time to begin decorating the Manor for the holiday season, Bruce found himself completely unsure whether he wanted to even bother. Another hard year. More 'crises'. More deaths. More people to hold in fond remembrance. More memories of bad times. This year... even more than most.
The memories of good times... well, they just didn't seem to outweigh the bad anymore. Too many villains, too much fighting. Too much goddamn death. How could nostalgic thoughts of Dick's first Christmas in the Manor hold a candle against Tim suffering the loss of both of his best friends in a little more than a year, after so recently losing his parents and Stephanie? How could Alfred's fruitcake - which was decidedly not a brick - stand up against Bruce wresting the Outsiders away from Dick, in a move that had cost him Dick's trust and respect?
No. There just wasn't any point in celebrating this year. If Alfred wanted to decorate, then by all means, Bruce would let him to it, but there really was no need. Not this year.
Brooding on the subject, Bruce tried to turn his focus back to a volume he'd been flipping through in the library, his place lost - again - as he forced himself back to the present. "Dammit," he grumbled, flipping through the pages and shifting in the wing-backed leather chair facing the expansive library windows.
"Lose your place?" a very warm, familiar voice said right next to his ear, the sudden breath on his neck evoking an involuntary shiver.
"Wha--?" he said as he turned, finding a sparkling set of blue eyes beneath heavy black hair and lashes flashing at him. His breath catching in his throat, Bruce had no chance to respond to Dick's presence before lush lips pressed firmly to his.
A small flame reignited in his chest with the slow hello.
When Dick pulled away, a mischievous grin gracing his face, Bruce could only shake his head, bewildered. "What... I thought..."
"Heh," the younger man chuckled. "Alfred gave me a call, reminded me that it was time to get the Manor spruced up for the holidays." His eyes swept down for a moment. "He... reminded me what the holidays are for."
Bruce stared, eyes narrowed, and when Dick's gaze came back up and met his, the Bat thought his heart might explode.
"Whatever's happened this year..." Dick hesitated. "That doesn't change how I feel about you, Bruce. I still love you."
His heartbeat suddenly pounding in his ears, Bruce managed to choke out, "I... Dick..."
"How about we start over. I've got just the thing to get the ball rolling, too." Drawing his hand out from behind his back, where Bruce hadn't even noticed the younger man had been hiding it, he presented something small and brown to former mentor, sometimes lover.
Accepting it, Bruce scrutinized it closely, his mouth unwittingly drawing up into a smile.
"Gingerbread Bat, straight from the kitchen," Dick explained, his eyes glittering with hope. "Thought we might make more, maybe a few gingerbread Nightwings and Robins. Even some 'S's and lightning bolts, for Kon and Bart. Tim and Alfred are already on board."
Letting out an uplifted sigh, the older man swept forward and drew Dick into a tight hug, encircling him and holding him as close as he could. "Thank you, Dick," he breathed, joining Dick's relieved chuckle as his brooding mood completely evaporated. With Dick and Tim in the house... maybe the Manor could be decorated this year, after all.
* * * * *
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Bruce/Dick
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 591
Summary: Bruce broods over another bad year. A surprise visitor is determined to cheer him up.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darn it.
Author's Note: Written on the spot for bradygirl_12. *hugs her*
Holiday Preparations
When Alfred suggested it was time to begin decorating the Manor for the holiday season, Bruce found himself completely unsure whether he wanted to even bother. Another hard year. More 'crises'. More deaths. More people to hold in fond remembrance. More memories of bad times. This year... even more than most.
The memories of good times... well, they just didn't seem to outweigh the bad anymore. Too many villains, too much fighting. Too much goddamn death. How could nostalgic thoughts of Dick's first Christmas in the Manor hold a candle against Tim suffering the loss of both of his best friends in a little more than a year, after so recently losing his parents and Stephanie? How could Alfred's fruitcake - which was decidedly not a brick - stand up against Bruce wresting the Outsiders away from Dick, in a move that had cost him Dick's trust and respect?
No. There just wasn't any point in celebrating this year. If Alfred wanted to decorate, then by all means, Bruce would let him to it, but there really was no need. Not this year.
Brooding on the subject, Bruce tried to turn his focus back to a volume he'd been flipping through in the library, his place lost - again - as he forced himself back to the present. "Dammit," he grumbled, flipping through the pages and shifting in the wing-backed leather chair facing the expansive library windows.
"Lose your place?" a very warm, familiar voice said right next to his ear, the sudden breath on his neck evoking an involuntary shiver.
"Wha--?" he said as he turned, finding a sparkling set of blue eyes beneath heavy black hair and lashes flashing at him. His breath catching in his throat, Bruce had no chance to respond to Dick's presence before lush lips pressed firmly to his.
A small flame reignited in his chest with the slow hello.
When Dick pulled away, a mischievous grin gracing his face, Bruce could only shake his head, bewildered. "What... I thought..."
"Heh," the younger man chuckled. "Alfred gave me a call, reminded me that it was time to get the Manor spruced up for the holidays." His eyes swept down for a moment. "He... reminded me what the holidays are for."
Bruce stared, eyes narrowed, and when Dick's gaze came back up and met his, the Bat thought his heart might explode.
"Whatever's happened this year..." Dick hesitated. "That doesn't change how I feel about you, Bruce. I still love you."
His heartbeat suddenly pounding in his ears, Bruce managed to choke out, "I... Dick..."
"How about we start over. I've got just the thing to get the ball rolling, too." Drawing his hand out from behind his back, where Bruce hadn't even noticed the younger man had been hiding it, he presented something small and brown to former mentor, sometimes lover.
Accepting it, Bruce scrutinized it closely, his mouth unwittingly drawing up into a smile.
"Gingerbread Bat, straight from the kitchen," Dick explained, his eyes glittering with hope. "Thought we might make more, maybe a few gingerbread Nightwings and Robins. Even some 'S's and lightning bolts, for Kon and Bart. Tim and Alfred are already on board."
Letting out an uplifted sigh, the older man swept forward and drew Dick into a tight hug, encircling him and holding him as close as he could. "Thank you, Dick," he breathed, joining Dick's relieved chuckle as his brooding mood completely evaporated. With Dick and Tim in the house... maybe the Manor could be decorated this year, after all.
* * * * *