he bruce/dick 25 bring the pain babe bring it
You are evil and vile and I love you so much <3
pssst everyone the prompt isĀ āwe can never be togetherā kiss
Dickās fingers flexed, his hand so close to Bruceās cheek, could feel the heat from it, if he hadnāt had his gloves on. He wanted to touch, always wanted to- but without his suit, he lacked the courage now.
Not after Bruce had accepted the touch, the kiss, in the quiet early hours of the sleeping Manor, and then pushed him off, as if Dick was a disease.
Bruceās guantletted hand was there in a flash, gripping Dickās wrist tightly, keeping his hand from pressing to his exposed cheek. His mouth was set in a firm line, and Dick knew his eyes- those eyes, those damn eyes- were cold, hard behind his cowl.
āDonāt,ā he said, voice deep, gravely, and Dick almost shivered. He frowned, himself, tugging his hand free, letting it fall to his side. He wanted to follow it, to curl up on the cold pavement. Had wanted to do nothing but bury himself since Bruceās rejection nights ago.
āGive me a chance,ā he whispered, the words slow, careful. He didnāt want his voice to waver.Ā āJust...a chance.ā
āNowās not the time-ā
āItās never the time with you!ā Dick squared his shoulders, tossing his arms out to the side.Ā āI try to talk to you, and you avoid me. Doesnāt matter when, it seems youāve just been too damn busy the past few days.ā He reached out, jabbed his finger against the bat symbol on Bruceās chest.Ā āGoddamn do I have to make an appointment with you, Bruce?ā
Codenames be damned, the city was dead around them, and Dick didnāt care. Bruce owed him a conversation, at least. Maybe if heād only shoved Dick off, he could understand this avoidance. But heād kissed him back, heād clutched at him for a precious few moments like Dick was the center of his world, before heād thrown him entirely from orbit.
āJust give me a fucking reason why,ā Dick continued, felt his voice choking up,Ā āwhy we canāt-ā
The words broke off as Bruce surged forward, shoving Dick back the two steps to the wall behind him. He boxed him in, slamming one arm up against the old wall, the other gripping Dickās chin tightly as he leaned in, covered his mouth with his own. Dick felt his stomach undiluting, his knees going weak, and he reached out, clutched at Bruceās cape as teeth dragged on his lower lip, as a tongue pressed into his mouth, pinning his own.
He groaned around it, the hand on his chin moving back to tug at his hair, tilting his head slightly so Bruce could test each point of his teeth. Dick trembled, gasped when Bruce pulled back, was sure his pupils had gone to pinpoints and wasnāt even sure he was breathing.
āBecause you matter,ā Bruce offered, his hand loosening, leaving Dickās hair. It stroked down to his cheek, the sharp points of his glove almost intimate.Ā āBecause you matter, and if I love you, Iām going to lose you.ā
Dick stared at him, wanted so badly to shove the cowl back, to see his eyes. To know what was there. Reading nothing but the line of Bruceās mouth, it was hard. Something heād learned to do over the years, when he had no other option- but even as an adult, Dick didnāt like it.
Dick let go of his cape with one hand, reaching up, tracing the seam of the cowl. His plea was silent, one he expected to go ignored- after all, it wasnāt safe- but Bruce reached up, tugged it back, stared at Dick with those naked blue eyes.
They ached. And Dickās chest began to cave in.
āThe media will eat you alive,ā he whispered,Ā āPick you to the bone. Slander you, over what you were when this started- my son, Dick.ā Dickās heart skipped a beat, and he was sure there was a special sort of hell reserved for him, for loving the fact that Bruce could call him that, and wanting him anyway.
āNot to mention what will happen to you, out here. You... wonāt be able to leave this at home. Youāll love me here, as Batman, just as you would without the damn mask. I canāt have every criminal in Gotham looking at you like the golden ticket to me...ā
Bruce glanced away, and Dick was shaking his head.
āI donāt care,ā he offered, his gloved hand moving back, through Bruceās hair.Ā āBruce, I-ā
āIf I love you, I will lose you.ā He shook his head, leaning in, pressing his forehead to Dickās. His eyes were squeezed shut, for a moment, and Dick knew Bruce didnāt have to continue. He knew what he meant.
If Bruce loved him, heād curse him. Because everyone Bruce loved, in the end, found a way into an early grave. Found that the only way to stay alive was to sever all ties, to put the world between them.
If he loved Dick, heād kill him. And no matter how cocky Dick was, he couldnāt fight Bruce on that. Not when he knew there was an air of truth to it. Heād seen it. The love Bruce had for his family was enough to bring the curse about, in lesser ways.
Dick felt Bruce tremble, and he hooked his arm around his shoulders, clutching him tightly.
āI canāt lose you,ā Bruce whispered,Ā āYou deserve the world.ā Silently, it was you are the world. Dick knew. Knew because heād seen Bruce give him those looks, like the very universe they were a part of started and ended with him. Those looks that had started all this, the crazy beating of his heart up into his throat, ever since he was a boy.Ā
A few costumes and a knew mantle later, and it didnāt matter. Dick still wanted to be the center of his world.
He wanted to tell Bruce he could handle it. Handle it however it had to be. If Bruce loved him in secret, for his safety- for public image, so be it. Dick would take it, knowing he had his heart.
But it was a lie, and he knew it. Secrecy would kill him. Seeing Bruce Wayne put on his playboy show would leave him broken. Seeing Batman act as if he had never wanted to kiss him would shatter his ribs.
Dick Grayson had enough lies in his life. He couldnāt add to them.
There were endless reasons, and whether based in any sort of rational thought or not, Dick knew it didnāt matter. Because Bruceās mind was made up. Because, come the end of the night, he would protect his little robin, even if it meant hurting him, and denying himself.
Dick squeezed his eyes shut, surging forward, kissing Bruce again. This time, it was desperate, needy- the kind of kiss that was somehow a first and a last. A first of truths, a last, because Dick knew he never had a chance.
It was better that way, if Bruce couldnāt love him. Then maybe Dick might find some sort of happiness, instead of the hell the man was sure heād bring down on him.
And all Bruce wanted was for his little bird to be happy.
