This is actually based on NightCrawler509's Nightwing Before a Renegade story, which I personally DEFINITELY found worth my time. Anyway, I think It's chapter Five? That I based this off of?

Enjoy! XD

"Was I just a charity case?" I croaked hoarsely, tears streaming down my face. His hand was warm and heavy on my cheek, the leather glove rough under my skin. It's always been like that, for as long as I could remember. Him and I in this endless tangle of hate and love, of envy and jealousy and secrets.

"Dick," he whispered, his nose just barely brushing mine until our breath was one. A tear caught in my eyelashes before running down my cheek, and I grabbed his wrist tightly, knowing what was coming, wanting it and trying to reject it at the same time. I could only think of the last time we had been this close, and realized I couldn't remember.

His lips pressed against mine, rough and dry and exactly how I knew they were, and I couldn't push away. I thought of Jason and Artemis and Roy and Kaldur, standing out there in the mist of post battle, and I realized that I knew I didn't want this.

At least, not anymore.

I couldn't push away.

Bruce didn't move, either, he didn't push his tongue past my lips, he just stood and read me through his fingers, felt the tenseness in my back and the tight pull of my lips. He pulled back slowly and surely, whispered, "I love you," like it still made a difference, and then watched me finally pull away.

I shook my head, shook it over and over because I didn't know what else to do with myself, and I hissed, "You have a funny way of showing it."

I walked away.

"Is it so selfish for me to want his attention?" I asked, looking at him. I barely said it above the whisper, horse and so raw with emotion I surprised myself. He looked so calm.

He took a while before saying, "No." Long enough that I had been worried my words had been drowned out by the sounds of the cars below. I wasn't sure if I would have had the strength to say them again. He shifted his body toward mine, just that much closer. The orange mask hid his face, but I could hear the sincerity in his voice, realized that he wanted me to know that he cared. "You're a selfless person. You deserve Batman's attention." He chuckled slightly. "You're his son."

I thought about the kiss earlier. "No, I'm not."

If he was surprised by my response, he didn't show it. He just lifted up his hand to take off his mask, offered the hand to me as he stood up. He said, "I could help you through the pain," and I took the hand, didn't even hesitate, and shivered as he pulled me against his armor.

I tucked my head into his shoulder, felt his arms wrap around my waist, "I have to leave my friends, don't I?"

He gently kissed my neck, nudged my jaw until I faced him, until our noses were touching and out breaths were one and if I closed my eyes and concentrated hard enough, I could imagine another body holding me.

His lips reached mine, but it didn't fell forced, and despite the loss of friends, I didn't feel conflicted. It was quick and simple, just like everything and nothing about this man, and he replied, "Only when you're ready."

He took me that night, at a safe house, with kisses and moans and feeling, he made love to me in the way Bruce never did, on his bed, with his body, with pure want and need and no double guess work. Our limbs were tangled like our lives would be, because I knew there would be no taking it back, no pretending it didn't happen, not with him- not with this man. I fell asleep to the feel of his heartbeat under my fingertips.

The next morning I woke up to Jason, covered in my own sheets and I figured Slade must have taken me home, and when he left, he must have taken my heart with him.

R&R!