bruce wayne needs physical touch. not only is it his love language, it's an longing so deeply rooted in his soul that lacking it feels like missing a limb.
the problem? he hates it.
other people's touches feel like acid on his skin. the false kisses on his cheeks during galas, the handshakes during board meetings, the claps on the back after a successful JL mission – bruce can't stand any of it. he's not entirely sure when that hate developed; maybe it was throughout the 10 years alone in the manor with nothing but a butler insisting on keeping everything professionally, or maybe when touches kept following him when he started going public to honor the family name. either way, physical touch has become something he loathes.
and that's the tragedy. bruce constantly feels an ache to be held, hugged, touched, so strong it nearly drives him mad. but when he actually gets it, he can't find any comfort in it at all.
It took Dick a year to realise. Drowning in grief, in vengeance, moving from the circus to a detention centre to a mansion, hunting down his parents killer, being benched for twelve months of training minimum, being homeschooled, dealing with nightmares and grief trying to swallow him whole, figuring out how to be someone else's ward with his guardian trying to figure out his role too.
It takes a year, but eventually things calm down. The grief doesn't go away, but it does ebb, just like Bruce said it would. He starts to see through the haze, and there's a lot about Bruce to notice.
He hates it. Which doesn't make any sense, because Dick sees him be jealous when he doesn't get a hug, or Dick curls up in Clark's lap not his.
So Dick stops. It's hard, because he'd got used to Bruce being an option for so long that he became the option, and now it's been taken away. He makes it three weeks before Bruce awkwardly enters his bedroom, guilt etched into his face, to ask what he did, if he can fix it.
Dick sighs and says it's fine. He doesn't look convinced, so Dick pats his knee, only for him to still show that flicker of discomfort beneath the relief that he didn't mess up like he thought.
Dick tries a lot, over the next few months, but nothing seems to fix Bruce's miserable response to being touched.
Then he has one final idea.
He comes down one morning, and stands next to Bruce's chair at the dining table. "Bruce."
"Dick." His lip quirks up, but his eyes scan Dick, trying to anticipate whatever comes next.
"Would it be alright if I hugged you?" He watches as Bruce's eyes brighten, and he nods, pulling Dick up and into his lap. Dick watches carefully. There's that initial spark of discomfort, but then it melts away, and Dick celebrates internally.
They finish a case, and he holds up his hand subtly. Batman's lips quirk up and he puts up his hand for a high five. Dick leaps up to smack their palms together, and there is no ripple of discomfort through Bruce.
He finds Wally carefully threading beads onto string, and is invited to join. He makes himself one in Robin colours, then an idea strikes, and he makes two more.
Bruce looks at him in confusion when he skips up and ties a green bracelet around his wrist. The next morning, after he stayed out late at a gala, Dick sees Bruce brace himself when he enters the dining room, and rather than offer their morning hug, or sit on his knee and giggle as Alfred helps a double serving onto one plate, he takes the red bracelet out of his pocket and unclasps the green one, replacing it. Bruce watches him, brow furrowed, but says nothing as he goes and sits down in the next chair.
It takes Bruce longer to figure out than Dick thought. But after a time, Bruce is lifting his wrist for him to change the bracelets, and eventually Dick just leaves them on his bedside table to make the decision himself.
Of course, there are exceptions. Like the times when Dick's mask let in some fear toxin because he didn't realise there was a hole, and Dick stared at the red bracelet as Bruce bundled him up in a blanket and pulled him into his arms, holding him all night.
Or the time Bruce lay in hospital after Uncle Harvey stopped being nice, and Dick stared at the red bracelet in the bag of Bruce's clothes, but he was pulled up and invited into the hospital bed too, so Bruce could wipe away his tears and promise he was okay, lying that it was just a scratch.
But mostly, they obey the bracelets.
Uncle Clark takes him flying, like he does once a month, and as Dick sits on his chest, asks what they mean. Dick sees the suspicion, the worry, and explains. Uncle Clark is a bit embarassed that he didn't notice B's 'touch aversion', but nods and promises Dick he'll listen to the bracelets too.
Uncle Clark is Superman. Everyone pays attention to Superman.
Bruce starts coming back from meetings a lot less stressed. He returns from missions and doesn't head right to the showers to scrub his skin red and raw.
He still asks. Not everything is always okay. Sometimes Bruce is green, but that means Dick can hold his hand, but not climb up and sit on his hip.
But Dick is proud of himself, cause he figured it out. And he kind of fixed it. And he knows Bruce is proud of him too, because he never tries to be quiet when he says it to Alfred, which makes it feel even better.
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