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My Word

Alfred was always quietly pleased when one of the young master's friends dropped in unexpectedly the way Master Roy had earlier this afternoon. He'd felt for years now that Master Bruce simply asked too much of the boy, that Master Dick wasn't allowed to experience many of the normal things any child should and that worried Alfred quite a bit over the years. It was too easy to imagine that bright spirit snuffed out, buried under a life of dedication and duty so when young men's laughter could be heard faintly in the far wing, it was a pleasure. Thank the Lord he had a few good friends he could truly relax and be himself with—even if Roy Harper was as far from a good influence as one could hope to find. Granted he'd overcome a difficult childhood and much personal adversity, but that business with the narcotics was unpleasant and Alfred privately felt the young master could do better in his choice of companions.

But, be that as it may, the fact was the two young men were friends and that wasn't something Master Dick took lightly. He was exceedingly loyal and wouldn't listen to a word spoken against someone he was close to. And one couldn't forget the fact that at seventeen he was much older than most of the youngsters his age. He'd seen and done things beyond imagination and could well take care of himself. There wasn't really anything to worry about when you came down to it. He was a levelheaded young man and always had been.

"Hey Alfred? Is it okay if Roy stays over?" About six-thirty Master Dick was standing in the kitchen doorway, slightly out of breath and flushed. "Bruce won't be home for another two days and there's nothing really going on around here till then."

"What on earth have you two been doing to find yourself in such a state?"

"Working out—so is it all right of he stays?"

"In your street clothes? You know better than that, young man. Now, I assume Master Queen has no objections?" Dick shook his head. "In that case I see no problem. If that's settled, I would appreciate you two cleaned up and ready for dinner in twenty minutes."

"Great, thanks, Alf." Dick went back to the media room where Roy was waiting, "You're in."

Roy laughed, the tone somewhere between happiness and seductiveness. "Well, not quite yet, but I'm hoping…"

"Jesus, Harper—Alfred hears everything; tone it down, okay?"

"All part of the service. Now, how much time do we have till dinner…?" He was smiling and moving closer.

Dick moved back to the doorway, evading any contact. "Not enough. C'mon, get put back together, we're eating in a few minutes."

The two young men ate with Alfred in the kitchen and the old man was pleased they would want to spent the time with him, or at least be willing to keep him company. The boys mostly talked shop and gossip about the Titans, about whether Donna was really serious about this history professor she was dating, if Garth would ever pull himself out of the deep hole of black grief he'd been in since Tula had been killed. They hadn't really seen him for months now and that usually wasn't a good sign, especially if Arthur was involved. This got the conversation a bit too heavy so they started speculating if Wally was still a virgin or not. Alfred chastised them for their vulgarity, but he was smiling as he did so. Young men talking about sex, no matter whose, was as old as time itself.

"Now, both of you are underfoot and you're quite aware, Master Dick, that no guest in this house touches a dirty dish nor are they abandoned by their hosts. I'm more than capable of cleaning up the kitchen myself and shall require no assistance so I suggest you both entertain yourselves elsewhere." He shooed the boys out, knowing they wanted to spend time together and relax, something they didn't get a chance to do enough. Between their schooling, their work with the Titans, their respective mentors and their separate social lives—meager as they may be due to simple time constraints; they had earned a few free hours to laze about. "If you go out, please have the courtesy to inform me where you'll be going."

"No problem Alf. We'll probably just hang around here so don't worry."

"I always worry, young man. As you're likely aware, it's part of my job and has been for years."

"I do know that." Dick put his hand on Alfred's shoulder, squeezing slightly before turning back to Roy. "Swim?"

"Sure, sounds good. Thanks, Alfred, great dinner."

"You're quite welcome, Master Roy ad I shall prepare the blue guest room for your use. Now off with both of you."

About eight the next morning Alfred silently pushed Dick's bedroom door opened to fetch the laundry.

Light flooded in through the floor to ceiling windows, it was a beautiful sunny day.

They didn't notice him standing there, watching for a full minute. The two young men were naked with Roy slightly on top of Dick who was on his back. Their legs were tangled with one of Dick's knees bent and slowly rubbing Roy's crotch, his thigh muscles flexing as he moved. Dick's arms and hands were caressing the muscles in Roy's back and shoulders, then moving up through the red hair, stroking, petting and smoothing with such care. Roy has his own hands surrounding, holding Dick's face, his thumbs caressing his cheeks and eyebrows, outlining the dark features while the young men kissed deeply with gentle passion. The room reeked of sex, musk and sweat. The bedclothes were pushed aside and partly falling on the floor. The pillows were askew and piled sideways on the double bed which had seemed so large when Dick was eight; now it was really too small for the two men who were using it. The bed creaked slightly as they moved and Alfred could hear their deep breathing and an occasional moan or gasp. Carefully they rolled over together, mouths still joined, Dick taking the dominant position and Roy's legs falling open to create a comfortable space, his arms coming around Dick's back to hold him tightly. Alfred heard the whispered single word, "yes" and the "now, again" response. He never did learn which boy had said which comment, nor did it matter. Dick's right hand moved down to create a small space between them, positioning himself, raising himself and pushing forward…

Alfred backed out as quietly as he'd entered, closing the door without a sound and found himself back down in the kitchen, teakettle on the burner. His old nanny had always said that a nice cuppa could help anything and he'd always known she was a smart old soul. Waiting for the boil, he thought about two things which struck him about what he'd just seen. Clearly this wasn't the first time these two had found themselves in this situation and secondly, he was taken aback by the obvious caring and tenderness between the two. This was no quick affair, no momentary lapse or whim brought on by teenaged hormones. The boys cared about one another and, from all appearances, quite possibly believed themselves to be in love with one another.

The kettle whistled and Alfred took his hot cup of Earl Grey with lemon to the table, settling and looking out the window at the sweeping lawns.

He'd no indication, no inkling that Dick had feelings for any young man, let alone Roy and had honestly not suspected anything about his orientation. How long had this been going on? And where? How? When? They were both still only seventeen; Dick had only gotten his license a few weeks ago for Goodness sake.

Titan Tower, of course. All of the members had private quarters there for late nights and rest breaks while working on cases or whatever. Lately, the last few months Dick had been staying over there more and more, claiming they were working on a case or that he was simply too tired to get himself home and would see them in the morning.

So, what to do?

Master Bruce would likely be surprised but take it fairly in stride if it were presented to him in the right way and allowed to get used to the idea. Master Queen might prove to be more problematical but Roy seemed resilient, he would have Dick's support and the young men were both strong enough to weather storms. This was hardly the end of the world.

Glancing at the kitchen clock, Alfred noted it was almost eight-thirty. Unless he was mistaken, the young men would finish what they were doing, separate to their respective rooms to dress and present themselves shortly.

He finished his tea, took the cup to the sink and got out the eggs and bacon for their breakfast.

5/25/06

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