3rd Story in the Bat and the Bird series.
Set in-between "Beneath" and "Bloodlines."
Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice. If I did, this would have happened already.
February 21th 2016 14:43 EST – Stately Wayne Manor
"I'm not bothering you, am I?" Barbara shifted in the big leather chair at the front of the desk as she finished her sandwich.
"You never bother me, BG," Dick said looking up from his work, "Plus I'm the one holding us up from spending time together. I swear, I didn't think this project would be giving me this much trouble."
"Which class?" She tossed the bunched up wrapper in the trash.
"Ethics."
Babs raised her eyebrow.
"Yes, the irony is not lost on me," he said.
Like in other parts of the Manor, the chilly February weather had crept into Bruce's study but the sun made heat pockets through the windows. Babs watch the flicks of dust dancing in the bright spots.
"Well," she said, "Am I going to be a distraction? Do you need me to leave?"
He shook his head. "No way. You'll be good company. I've been looking forward to seeing you all day."
"Oh really?" she said jokingly.
Dick raised his head and his eyes bore into her. "Really."
Babs still wasn't used to him looking at her like that … like he was hungry and she was the meal. Or maybe she wasn't used to him looking at her like that so openly. Or maybe she just wasn't used to admitting that he had been giving her those kinds of looks for a long time. She started to suspect that Dick was conscious of what that look did to her – it was the same look he gave her when he pressed her against the wall of her apartment. Memories of that night (how could it have been less than a week ago?) rushed back to her, and since she knew for a fact that Tim and Alfred were out of the mansion …
"So you're working from in here now?" she said with a squeak. Smooth, Gordon.
"Yeah, it helps me think." Dick paused and smiled. "You know, when I started at the Academy, Bruce would do non-Batman work at this desk and I'd sit on the side and do my homework. Then he'd check it for me and go over the stuff I had issues with. He was really adamant about doing that at least once a week, even during our busiest weeks in the suits."
"You never told me that," she said.
"Alfred mentioned to me once that Bruce's dad used to do that with him. I guess he wanted to keep the tradition going." Dick furrowed his brow and stared at his work. "I know certain members of the League had issues with the way Bruce raised me, how he brought me into the crime fighting fold. And I know from the outside he seemed distant and cold, but he was a good father in his way."
"Is."
Dick looked up. Barbara had moved to his side of the desk and put her hand on his. Her warmth spread from his fingers up his arm and seemed to fill every inch of him.
"Yeah. Is." He enveloped her hand and squeezed.
She smiled and hopped onto the desk. And yeah, that little move was a turn on. "Wait, wasn't this also his scolding chair?" She pointed to Dick's seat.
He laughed. "Oh man, it was that, too. Remember the summer we hacked into the police scanners? Did he read me the riot act from this thing!" Dick's eyes went sly. "Speaking of, we need to talk about you sassing me during the briefing."
She gasped with an overly dramatic hand to her chest. "Sass you? I have no idea what you're talking about!"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Gordon."
"No, please," she said with a wicked grin on her face and her chin resting on her fist, "Nightwing, please explain how I could possibly sass you."
"You called me out on explaining the all girl mission. You knew I couldn't respond without giving us away. It was a real dirty move, Gordon."
Was it wrong that it made her obscenely happy to get him flustered?
"Look Grayson, I gave an honest assessment of your briefing. Just because you decided to push specific gender roles on a good portion of your team—"
She didn't get to finish her defense because Dick pulled her down to his lap (with her legs dangling off the arms of the large leather chair) and kissed her. It was their first kiss since before Bialya and god, did she miss it. How had it really only been a few days since those magnificent lips were on her? She could smell his aftershave and her hand caressed the back of his neck. As Dick's free hand became reacquainted with the back of her thigh, Babs took the opportunity to part his lips and slip her tongue in his mouth. He let out a little moan, the kind of response she was beginning to crave from him. He squeezed her thigh hard this time and she let out an involuntary gasp in response. Dick moved his mouth down her neck and collarbone, undoing the top button of her shirt to better kiss her chest. She arched into him because oh lord, it felt so good but –
"Diiiick," she stressed as his left hand deftly undid another button to get better access, "We're in Bruce's office."
"So? He's not using it," he said, moving his hand back to her leg and then up the curve of her ass.
She sighed a little as she got situated in his lap, sitting up and putting her legs on either side of his body. She hated having to be the sensible one, but … "You're supposed to be studying and you're getting distracted."
"Oh sweetie, I'm so tracted." He dragged his lips against her jawline and she shivered in response." I couldn't be more tracted. I think I might be super-tracted, even."
"You know I hate when you do the word thing," she breathed heavily while he sucked on her neck.
"Well then, let's stop talking," he said as he tilted her chin and brought her lips back to his.
Since their first time together just a few days before, Barbara had prepared herself for it to be awkward going from friends to … something else. But it was so easy to sit in his lap. To nip at his mouth, allowing for just enough of her tongue in his mouth to tease him. To ground against his erection and know that it was her words and her presence making him hard. She should have fought to maintain her willpower, but the looks he gave her were just so intense and it was just so fucking easy to get swept up in the urges she had forced herself to brush off for years.
Barbara put her hand behind his neck for support as his hands crept under her shirt, rubbing firm, soothing circles along her waist with his thumb. She cooed contentfully against his mouth until his hand hit a sore spot. She instinctually pulled away from him. Disappointed at the lack of her lips, Dick opened his eyes to see her wince. Dick pulled her shirt up a little to look at the offending spot. There he found a big purple bruise.
"Was this from Bialya?" he asked softly, distracted by how distinct the bruise was against her flesh.
"Yeah," She moved his hand back to her hips and pulled her shirt back down, "I dropped hard when Psymon knocked me out and according to Karen they weren't exactly careful loading me."
"Did it hurt?"
"Not really. I was already knocked out by then." Babs gave a look he was sure was supposed to be nonchalant, but Dick didn't buy it. "The getting knocked out part was what actually hurt like hell."
Despite his clear view of her cleavage and her hand playing with the hair on the back of his neck, that image of her dropping and being stored in one of the canisters they found on the plane just wouldn't leave his mind.
"What's wrong?" Her kiss-swollen lips were pursed.
"… You were captured."
"Well yeah, for like 30 minutes. I got home safe and sound."
"Yeah I know that. And I found out about all of it after you got back, but it's just hitting me now. Whatever was going to happen to those kids would have happened to – " his voice hitched.
"Dick," she said cupping the sides of his face, "it's OK. I'm OK."
Dick leaned his forehead on hers. He was acutely aware of her legs on both sides of his own and how her breathing in and out felt like gentle waves on his hand against her back. Eyes closed, he found himself focused on her physical body, how everything that was Barbara Gordon was within this body on top of him and he was astoundingly conscious of how lucky he was to have her alive in his arms. It wasn't that she was fragile – she wasn't. It was that life was fragile and the lives Dick Grayson treasured the most had a bad habit of shattering.
"I don't want to be that guy," he said with his eyes still shut tight, "The guy getting paranoid every time his amazing, brilliant girlfriend goes out and saves the world. You can handle yourself, but I'm still … scared."
He felt her lips press against his again. This one was soft and sweet, something he hadn't experienced much of from her during their short time together. It was slow and thoughtful, bringing him back onto solid ground like only she could.
"So," she said, breaking the kiss just enough to look into his eyes, "You think I'm brilliant?"
With a rumble in his throat, he kissed her again.
"Brilliant,"
kiss,
"Tough,"
kiss,
"Clever ,"
kiss,
"And," he finished, "You're also rather pretty."
She hummed. "I appreciate the order of that list, Grayson," she said against his lips.
"I can go on," said Dick, "I have a very wide vocabulary."
They kissed again, which turned into a deeper kiss. His hands started to roam and the tension in their bodies built back up. In the back of his mind, Dick took in how each kiss was slower and every touch was with purpose. Because they were alive. And they had found each other in time. And that was precious. It was so damn intense that the only thought in his head became how much he wanted to make love to her.
"Barbara," Dick whispered against her ear, "Bedroom."
She was crazy about this boy. This boy who knew how to make her name sound like the sexiest word in the universe. And she was in his bedroom and he was unbuttoning her shirt with the most detailed care, his fingers trickling over her skin while he kissed her collarbone.
She shivered. He laughed. And then he looked at her.
"Holy shit," he breathed. Yeah, he had seen her naked before and she was still in her jeans and her shoes and her bra but … damn, did she look good. The jeans hugged her legs and her hip in all the right places. His eyes traveled up from her navel to her breasts and her tan bra, ending with the curve of her shoulders. Holy shit. Of course he saw her bruise and it still made him anxious, but-
"You're so beautiful."
Her only response was to grab the front of his shirt and pulled him down with her to the bed. Babs kicked off her shoes and rubbed her bare feet up his ankles. They kissed for a minute, their breath getting short as the need built again. She reached for his crotch and found his zipper.
"No."
He snatched her hand away from her and panted. "The other night you told me I'd get to do something the next time," he said firmly. "I'm using that raincheck now."
In the foggy arousal Barbara couldn't quite remember what she had promised him, but the kisses he trailed down from her sternum to her stomach and the hand sliding slowly up her inner thigh gave her some big hints.
"OH," she said. Then he started rubbing her through her jeans and warm bliss pulsed softly through her. "Ughhhhn."
Dick chuckled and undid her pants just to her upper thigh.
"Dick, I—" She felt his hand sneak under her underwear and stroke her. She gasped, but then so did he.
"Babs," he moaned against her hip, "You're so wet,"
"Must be the company," she said with a nervous smile as she closed her eyes and bit her lip.
He loved the way she reacted to every motion of his fingers. The way her breath became short every time he touched the right spots. The way her muscles gripped his fingers so tight. The way she was trying to hide her excitement as his mouth moved closer and closer to her core.
Barbara let out of whine in the back of her throat when his fingers left her, but she knew what was coming. She had kissed him so many times in the last few days – she knew what his tongue was capable of.
"I wasn't sure –"she grunted as he helped her pulled her jeans and underwear all the way off and moved her ass to the end of the mattress "—if you'd be up for it."
"Up for it?" he asked, positioning himself with his knees on the floor and her legs on his shoulders.
"Well, yeah." She remembered back to a couple guys in the last few years who only wanted one way favors (and wound up getting nothing).
In response, he sucked on her inner thigh. She moaned. She was shaking like a leaf. And then Dick smiled that Grayson smile.
"Oh sweetie," he whispered, "I've wanted to taste you for so long."
"Please," she begged him, "Please. I can't stand it anymore." He finally obeyed.
Oh sweet Jesus! He really, really knew how to use his tongue. She tried to squirm, but he held her firmly in place with his hand on her hip, his thumb tracing a particularly sensitive spot on her waist. Hands bunched in the sheets, she was spoiled by his wonderfulness and in the haze of his tongue on that bundle of nerves, it became hard to remember this was that sweet boy she met almost 10 years ago, the one who made her feel less alone.
Holy shit, she tastes so good. Between her sweet and salty taste, the feel of her clit against his tongue and the delightful noises coming from her mouth on the far end of the bed, he was having far too much fun. He moaned when her fingers started tugging her hair, keeping him firmly in place. His right hand moved up to rub her arched lower back – he just wanted to keep exploring her body.
"Dick," she gasped, "Rightthererightthere. Don't stop. Don't stop."
Like I'd ever think of stopping, he laughed to himself. She was like heaven in his mouth. His pants were getting unbearably tight, but he was so high on giving her what she was craving and just so grateful that she was alive and in his home and against his mouth. Her body buckled, her thighs squeezed his head and out of her mouth came the most beautiful sounds as she rode her orgasm. As he lapped her cum, he thought how he could spend a thousand lonely nights just remembering that drawn out moan.
"Oh Dicky," she finally breathed and absentmindedly patted his head still in between her legs, "You are very good at that."
"Thanks," he laughed, caught his breath and leaned his cheek on the top of her thigh, "I've had a lot of practice."
Silence. Dick dared to look towards her face only to see her looking down at him, her eyebrow raised.
After a moment's thought, Dick said, "There's no way I can make that sentence better, is there?"
But a second later Babs was laughing. She put her head back on the pillow.
"You're cute when you're flustered."
"I am?" He hopped back onto the bed.
"Of course you are. Why do you think I sassed you on the bioship?"
"Wait, I thought you said you didn't sass me!" He pulled himself up on his arm to look her straight in the face. Her beautiful, orgasm flushed face.
"You know Grayson, I'm compelled to paraphrase something I heard from a very smart guy this week: 'If these are the kinds of results I get, what makes you think I'll ever stop sassing you.'"
He glared at her. "You're evil."
"Yeah well, you're clothed. We both have things we need to work on," Barbara said before going for his pants.