Ficlet: (Un)Loved | DCU | Bruce/Dick, Bruce(/Jason) | R | 1/1
Title: (Un)Loved
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Bruce/Dick, Bruce(/Jason)
Rating: R
Word Count: 961
Prompt: For au_bingo: Fantasy & Supernatural: Myth and Legend; For kissbingo: Greetings: Goodbye
Summary: Bruce doesn't want to see Dick, but his first partner has something important to say.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit!
Author's Notes: Third in the (Un)Familiar 'verse. Follows (Un)Quenched.
(Un)Loved
When his secretary buzzes back that his former protégé is waiting to see him, Bruce thinks it was a bad idea to leave Jason at home today.
He doesn't want to see Dick, not since things have become complicated at the Manor, with Tim adjusting to his new status and him and Jason still at each other's throats. And especially since Jason came of age. Their relationship aside, Jay would deflect Dick's brightness easily.
“Bruce!” Dick calls out warmly as he sweeps into sunlit office, arms wide and grinning almost ear to ear. He's glowing in the bright light of day, as usual, and Bruce scowls, squinting at him and standing to accept his embrace.
The hug is quick and perfunctory, and for that, he's grateful; he never could stand more than a moment's contact with the younger man, the way it feels like being wrapped in a cocoon of brilliance.
“Dick,” he finally returns, sitting again and crossing his arms defensively as his first partner hops up to perch on the near side of the desk. “To what do I owe the honor?”
The younger man leans down close, dark mischief written all over his face and in his fey eyes. “I understand you've finally unleashed the wild boy,” he says in a low whisper, as they both know full well that even these walls might as well have ears as good as his; it's Gotham, after all.
Bruce blows a breath out his nose, pressing his lips together tightly. Of course Dick knows how things have gone over the last few months. The Manor's security is good, top-rate even, ditto for Bruce's poker face, but Dick is better. Always was, with clairvoyance among his more benign talents. That's one of the things that made his kind suited for the circus in the first place.
It's also part of what made their continued partnership dangerous; Bruce couldn't risk his deepest secrets being discovered.
“So?” he finally says, trying not to let Dick maintain eye-contact. “I hardly think that's your business anymore.”
Dick huffs a laugh, straightening a bit. “The Bat starts hunting with a wolf, and that's hardly my business? Try again.”
Standing and looming over Dick, his heart pounding in his chest, Bruce practically snarls, “You knew that's what it would come to when I took him home.”
Brows furrow over eyes gleaming in the shadow cast by the older man, and Dick says slowly, voice hypnotic, “I didn't think you'd claim him.”
Stunned by the bluntness of the statement, Bruce draws back. He's always hated his first partner's ability to shock him like that. “Get out,” he orders.
Dick slides off the desk and crowds in on Bruce to back him against the window. “I don't think so. You made me leave before, and for what? So you could lust after a wolf-boy instead? You owed me better than that.”
Bruce shuts his eyes against the brilliance of the elven man, unable to stand it for another moment. Dick couldn't have known the base things that he'd thought about him as he'd grown from teen to man, the... the love he'd felt, despite himself. It was wrong, improper, more so even than what he's felt for Jason.
And Dick was light personified, the flame that Bruce couldn't help but be drawn to. He still is.
“Don't tell me you didn't know how I felt about you, Bruce.”
His heart clenches in his chest, and he can practically feel the sunburn where Dick's hands suddenly fall on his biceps, fingers gripping tightly. The searing heat floods him in an instant.
A long, slow breath, and he finally admits, “Of course I knew. But-”
“But what?” Dick is so close that Bruce can feel his breath puffing over his lips. “But you couldn't stand to mar me? Is that it? And what if I could've brought light to you? Didn't you ever think of that?”
The crack of old pain in Dick's voice is too much for Bruce to handle. It's true, he hadn't ever thought of it that way. How could he, when so much as touching him in the way he'd wanted to would've ruined the luminous purity of the young man he'd watched grow and shine and, heh, bring so much light to the shadows?
It's the agony of the realization that breaks him, finally, and he opens his eyes to Dick's glorious light. “I'm sorry,” he whispers hoarsely, before his hands go to Dick's face and pull him that last inch closer to press their lips together.
It's like sunshine breaking through clouds and fog and interminable night, and Bruce can no longer control himself, all the grief and want and denial from so many years shattering in the light of day.
“Please,” Dick whispers against his lips, an aching plea as he tugs Bruce away from the window.
“Yes.” God, yes.
~*~*~*~
Afterward, when they're both sated and still, draped over each other on the sweat-slicked leather sofa in Bruce's office with their clothes scattered in all directions, the haze of lust clears away, leaving the clarity of grief and lost love in its wake.
“This was good-bye, wasn't it?” Dick ventures, hand resting over Bruce's heart.
Swallowing down the knot in his throat, Bruce holds him tighter with one arm, his free hand finding Dick's ear and tracing the soft point that the younger man learned how to hide so many years ago. “Yes,” he murmurs quietly. He can't stand the thought of this happening again, with his bond to Jason still so new. Dick's sudden dimness proves he was right before; this can't continue, could never have happened as he'd once dreamed in his darkest thoughts. “I'm sorry, Dick.”
Those fey eyes look up at him through a curtain of dark hair. “You should see yourself, you know. You're glowing.”
And Bruce knows it was a good thing Jason stayed at home today.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Bruce/Dick, Bruce(/Jason)
Rating: R
Word Count: 961
Prompt: For au_bingo: Fantasy & Supernatural: Myth and Legend; For kissbingo: Greetings: Goodbye
Summary: Bruce doesn't want to see Dick, but his first partner has something important to say.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit!
Author's Notes: Third in the (Un)Familiar 'verse. Follows (Un)Quenched.
(Un)Loved
When his secretary buzzes back that his former protégé is waiting to see him, Bruce thinks it was a bad idea to leave Jason at home today.
He doesn't want to see Dick, not since things have become complicated at the Manor, with Tim adjusting to his new status and him and Jason still at each other's throats. And especially since Jason came of age. Their relationship aside, Jay would deflect Dick's brightness easily.
“Bruce!” Dick calls out warmly as he sweeps into sunlit office, arms wide and grinning almost ear to ear. He's glowing in the bright light of day, as usual, and Bruce scowls, squinting at him and standing to accept his embrace.
The hug is quick and perfunctory, and for that, he's grateful; he never could stand more than a moment's contact with the younger man, the way it feels like being wrapped in a cocoon of brilliance.
“Dick,” he finally returns, sitting again and crossing his arms defensively as his first partner hops up to perch on the near side of the desk. “To what do I owe the honor?”
The younger man leans down close, dark mischief written all over his face and in his fey eyes. “I understand you've finally unleashed the wild boy,” he says in a low whisper, as they both know full well that even these walls might as well have ears as good as his; it's Gotham, after all.
Bruce blows a breath out his nose, pressing his lips together tightly. Of course Dick knows how things have gone over the last few months. The Manor's security is good, top-rate even, ditto for Bruce's poker face, but Dick is better. Always was, with clairvoyance among his more benign talents. That's one of the things that made his kind suited for the circus in the first place.
It's also part of what made their continued partnership dangerous; Bruce couldn't risk his deepest secrets being discovered.
“So?” he finally says, trying not to let Dick maintain eye-contact. “I hardly think that's your business anymore.”
Dick huffs a laugh, straightening a bit. “The Bat starts hunting with a wolf, and that's hardly my business? Try again.”
Standing and looming over Dick, his heart pounding in his chest, Bruce practically snarls, “You knew that's what it would come to when I took him home.”
Brows furrow over eyes gleaming in the shadow cast by the older man, and Dick says slowly, voice hypnotic, “I didn't think you'd claim him.”
Stunned by the bluntness of the statement, Bruce draws back. He's always hated his first partner's ability to shock him like that. “Get out,” he orders.
Dick slides off the desk and crowds in on Bruce to back him against the window. “I don't think so. You made me leave before, and for what? So you could lust after a wolf-boy instead? You owed me better than that.”
Bruce shuts his eyes against the brilliance of the elven man, unable to stand it for another moment. Dick couldn't have known the base things that he'd thought about him as he'd grown from teen to man, the... the love he'd felt, despite himself. It was wrong, improper, more so even than what he's felt for Jason.
And Dick was light personified, the flame that Bruce couldn't help but be drawn to. He still is.
“Don't tell me you didn't know how I felt about you, Bruce.”
His heart clenches in his chest, and he can practically feel the sunburn where Dick's hands suddenly fall on his biceps, fingers gripping tightly. The searing heat floods him in an instant.
A long, slow breath, and he finally admits, “Of course I knew. But-”
“But what?” Dick is so close that Bruce can feel his breath puffing over his lips. “But you couldn't stand to mar me? Is that it? And what if I could've brought light to you? Didn't you ever think of that?”
The crack of old pain in Dick's voice is too much for Bruce to handle. It's true, he hadn't ever thought of it that way. How could he, when so much as touching him in the way he'd wanted to would've ruined the luminous purity of the young man he'd watched grow and shine and, heh, bring so much light to the shadows?
It's the agony of the realization that breaks him, finally, and he opens his eyes to Dick's glorious light. “I'm sorry,” he whispers hoarsely, before his hands go to Dick's face and pull him that last inch closer to press their lips together.
It's like sunshine breaking through clouds and fog and interminable night, and Bruce can no longer control himself, all the grief and want and denial from so many years shattering in the light of day.
“Please,” Dick whispers against his lips, an aching plea as he tugs Bruce away from the window.
“Yes.” God, yes.
~*~*~*~
Afterward, when they're both sated and still, draped over each other on the sweat-slicked leather sofa in Bruce's office with their clothes scattered in all directions, the haze of lust clears away, leaving the clarity of grief and lost love in its wake.
“This was good-bye, wasn't it?” Dick ventures, hand resting over Bruce's heart.
Swallowing down the knot in his throat, Bruce holds him tighter with one arm, his free hand finding Dick's ear and tracing the soft point that the younger man learned how to hide so many years ago. “Yes,” he murmurs quietly. He can't stand the thought of this happening again, with his bond to Jason still so new. Dick's sudden dimness proves he was right before; this can't continue, could never have happened as he'd once dreamed in his darkest thoughts. “I'm sorry, Dick.”
Those fey eyes look up at him through a curtain of dark hair. “You should see yourself, you know. You're glowing.”
And Bruce knows it was a good thing Jason stayed at home today.
~*~*~*~