Mufky-fufky alert.
Warnings: none as long
as you know this is slash. If you don't like, don't read.
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Breakfast
Part Two
The boys spent the rest of the evening quietly after Master Bruce left for his patrol. Partly they were subdued because they knew they would be dealing with Bruce in the morning, come hell or high water and partly because they had an innate need to make a strong connection with one another before the coming storm. They spent another hour or so talking by the pool and then went down to the gym to have a long, private soak in the Jacuzzi.
At one point Alfred stopped in to see if they wanted anything, bottled water, perhaps, but decided against interrupting when he glanced through the opened door to find them kissing one another, then laughter followed him down the hall. Going back to the kitchen, he nursed a cup of Earl Grey and gave the situation more thought.
Dick had always seemed to need more physical nurturing than Master Bruce ever did and Alfred thought—had thought for years—that he and the Master were as unsuited to providing that for the boy as they were of effusively congratulating him on a job well done. Clearly both of the boy's parents had been tactile people and offered the child endless hugs, kisses and arms around the shoulder and just as clearly he missed that contact desperately. Perhaps this was just a way to recapture that physical contact.
No, as soon as the thought entered his mind he dismissed it. Dick wouldn't trade his privacy and violate his time alone on something that didn't have deeper meaning to him. He simply wouldn't. This relationship was significant to him if he was willing to have it become known and to engage openly in his own home, knowing he would likely be seen. This mattered to him and equally obviously, Roy mattered to him enough for the interplay between the two to be brought into the open. This was no fly-by-night affair, nor was it something that would simply go away any time soon.
But why had he taken up with Roy? The young man might well have admirable qualities, but his many problems would seem to outweigh the positives. Well, maybe that was part of the attraction, now that the idea had entered his mind. Dick was forever sympathizing with strays; this could be an extension of that. Perhaps this had its basis in simply sympathy.
No, that was insulting to both young men. If they had genuine feelings for one another—as seemed to be the case, to trivialize those feelings would be counterproductive for all concerned. Alfred hesitated to think the youngsters might actually believe themselves to be in love, but he certainly didn't discount it, either. A teenaged romance was still a romance and it was not unknown for them to develop into a lifelong attachment.
Good Lord; the Master would have an opinion about this.
The boys were lazing on the chesterfield sofa in the media room, watching Saw—Roy's choice. "Really, Grayson, you need to lighten up, lower your entertainment level and learn how to slum."
"But this is crap."
"Crap is as crap does, my friend—remember that."
Dick rolled his eyes and started chewing on Roy's neck, knowing it was guaranteed to make him forget about watching this crummy movie so they could continue with what they'd started in the Jacuzzi. In seconds Roy had his hands under Dick's shirt and was starting to get serious with his intent; not that Dick had any problem with that, mind you. In fact, ever since he and Roy had hooked up last year he'd discovered just how much he liked; okay, he really liked sex. It felt good, no question about that, but he liked—no, he loved being that close to someone he actually loved. He'd read all these books and heard all the songs about what it was supposed to be like when you were in love but the reality—damn. He and Roy had been friends since they were like twelve, thirteen years old, but last year after Dick helped him kick the heroin—and you really get to know someone when they're barfing on you and hitting, kicking you and you're trying to help them through the shakes and the hallucinations and the rest of it—by the end of it, after Roy was finally clean, they'd both started really looking at each other and seeing what all the girls seemed to see when either of them walked down the street.
Wait, no, that wasn't what he meant, but Roy was great. He was funny and a smart ass. He was smarter than most people gave him credit for and he had these incredible green eyes that just looked right through Dick's BS to see him as just a person. No one ever did that, they all saw 'Dick Grayson, perfect ward' or they saw 'Robin, the teen wonder' or even 'the cute guy with the bod in the third row in English' or even 'that poor orphan circus kid' but no one ever saw him as just a person. Roy did and knew him as well as anyone in the world and liked him—loved him—anyway. Amazing.
He moved around to suck on Roy's throat just below the Adam's apple and loved the vibration there when Roy made this sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan, if he sucked just a little harder he'd leave a mark…God, touching him, smelling him, feeling the heat from his body—what an incredible turn on and Dick was starting to breath faster. Moving down a little, pushing Roy onto his back on the couch, he pulled up Roy's tee-shirt and started kissing his abdomen, licking, kissing, nuzzling and loving the feel of Roy's hands in his hair caressing his head and gently moving him to just where he wanted attention. Dick slid down further so that he was finally kneeling on the floor at just the right height to nip and suckle his way around Roy's stomach while one hand massaged Roy's legs and thighs and the other stroked his chest. Roy's hands left Dick's hair, causing Dick to look up. Smiling just a little, breathing deep and fast and making small sounds, Roy unbuttoned his fly, sliding his jeans and boxers down below his butt, freeing himself and making it clear what he wanted. Glancing down at the stiff cock inches from his face, Dick gave a silent laugh—they both loved this, both giving and receiving—and swallowed the full length without any prep or teasing, sucking hard all the way. He felt it hitting the back of his throat and angled his head to open his gullet enough that he could feel his nose and chin hitting the reddish pubic hair. Dick slid his mouth up and down, using his tongue to tease the head, playing with the slit, his right hand fondling and rolling Roy's balls, rubbing a finger down behind then to stroke the small piece of skin behind, his left hand found Roy's left nipple, touching it lightly but with enough firmness the feeling wouldn't be lost with the other stimulation. Both of them were too aroused to stretch this out and within a too short couple of minutes Dick felt Roy stiffen, groan, his body going into the familiar spasm and the familiar taste filled his mouth as he swallowed in time with the waves. He waited the moments until the hard cock softened in his mouth, licking it clean as he let it slip out then carefully nudged Roy to lift up enough for Dick to replace his clothing in case Alfred walked in.
Dick was sat back on the floor, off of his knees facing Roy who was still stretched flat out on the couch with his hand gently stroking Dick's cheek. "Thank you."
He smiled at Roy. "Payback later."
A satisfied smile, part leer. "Count on it." He became serious, "I love you, Dick. I know I don't say it much, but I do. I really do love you."
This was the part Dick lived for, knowing that what Roy was saying was true and that it was real. He caught Roy's hand, the one that was hanging off the edge of the couch, kissing the inner palm and holding it against his face, rubbing into it like cat will sometimes do. "I love you, too Roy. You know I do."
"Yeah, I do." The bad movie ended, ignored, on the large screen, neither one moving to stop it or turn it off as the credits rolled. "It's eleven, too early to go to bed?"
"Let's go."
"Are they still here?"
"Good evening, Master Bruce. I take it all is well?"
"Where are they?"
"I presume you're referring to the young masters? They've retired for the night."
Bruce had the cowl pushed back, but was still in full costume. The patrol had been uneventful, just a couple of minor busts which he could have left to the local cops if he'd wanted to. Dick had been on his mind the whole time and he didn't like that. The boy should have been beside him doing his job, not…Christ, not doing whatever the hell he and Roy were doing instead. It wasn't even so much that Roy was male, not really, but of all the people for Dick to hook up with Roy had to be the worst choice it was possible for him to make. It was so absurd, so plain, flat-out wrong he even wondered if the whole thing was a 'fuck you' to both him and Ollie. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more that seemed like the only possible explanation. It wasn't that he had a problem with gays—he didn't and never had but this was ridiculous.
Roy was a drug addict, for the love of God, and Dick knew the statistics about back sliding as well as anyone did. The plain facts were that, in all likelihood, Roy would be using again within a year. Even on a good day, he wasn't what anyone could call reliable or stable and he was a smart ass of the first order. He had loser written all over him and Ollie had done everything in his power to make sure the boy didn't fulfill whatever potential he may have once had. Christ. And this was what Dick had decided was his current true love?
And it had been going on for how long? As soon as he'd found out, Bruce had called Ollie, who was, for once, sober. It turned out he knew even less about this affair than Bruce did. Ollie hadn't a clue, not even a small one and actually asked Bruce if he was 'pulling my leg—c'mon Batboy, you know you can't pull off a sense of humor. Leave that to the experts.' When he'd been able to convince Ollie that he wasn't kidding Ollie's reaction—"I guess boys will be boys"— had been to laugh so long and so hard Bruce finally just hung up on him.
Jackass.
Dick could do so much better than Roy. Why the hell was he doing this? "Have you spoken to him, Alfred?"
The old man was just setting out the usual sandwiches and decaf as a late snack. "Not really, no, but I do believe that the young masters are genuine in their affections towards one another. I see no duplicity or sham between them in any way." He poured the coffee, adding the exact amount of cream and sugar the master preferred. "They seem quite content together, if I may say so."
Bruce looked like he was trying to understand what Alfred was saying, even though he was speaking Martian. "Content together?"
"Yes. They seem content in one another's company. They're happy together and, if I may, it's a pleasure to see Master Dick so joyful with someone. He works far too hard for someone so young and this may well be just what he needs."
Bruce wondered if Alfred had lost his mind. Maybe he was caught up in some romantic daydream, but, for God's sake, he couldn't be serious. "Are you saying you approve of this?"
"I'm merely pointing out the obvious and whether he chooses Master Roy or a young lady, the fact is that he's happy." Alfred went on before Bruce could make some comment. "I also point out that they are both young and that this is the first serious relationship for either of them so far as I know. Teenaged romances tend to have a limited shelf life. I suggest we simply let it run it's course and it will resolve itself."
"I don't like this. He's distracted and when that happens he can get hurt."
Alfred was afraid of the same thing. "Yes, perhaps, but he's been raised both by you and before that by his parents to be professional and you know it's never been a problem. When he's in the field he's completely focused; you've commented on it yourself. I really think you're worrying needlessly, sir." In fact Alfred feared for Dick's safety as well. There was the chance that while he was leading the Titans or was out on a normal patrol, thoughts of Speedy would cause Robin to let his concentration lapse long enough for him to be injured. And in their business, injured was all too easy to become dead.
"May I make a suggestion, sir?" Bruce gave a curt nod. "I believe the lads have a school break coming up in a week or so. Perhaps if they were permitted to go off together they may, well, they might exhaust their overabundance of hormones and may find it less difficult to concentrate when they return."
Was Alfred actually suggesting they send the kids off for a fuckathon? "I don't think teenagers work that way, Alfred. I think it's more likely that they'll simply produce more…hormones and up the ante."
"Well sir, we can't ban them from seeing one another, you know as well as I that forbidden fruit is the most attractive. I do believe they'll run their course and come to a natural end sooner or later if we don't interfere." He placed the dirty dishes on a tray to take them upstairs. "I would suggest you have a talk with Master Dick, assuming you can remain calm whilst you do so." He started up the stairs. "Becoming overly excited or confrontational would be counterproductive. Good evening, sir."
Indeed.
Clearly there was no point in disturbing the boys at this hour if they'd been in bed—Jesus, doing God knew what—for three hours already. The morning would be soon enough and they'd likely be expecting to be facing the music anyway. There was no reason to put it off any longer. On impulse, he flipped a switch off to the side of the main computer console. Opening the intercom connected to Dick's room, he could hear what could only be the bed creaking rhythmically, heavy breathing and grunts of exertion which built until they were followed by drawn out groans.
Bruce was sitting at the table at seven the next morning. Dick was normally an early riser; he would know enough to come down so they could talk. At ten after he came in alone and took his usual seat, dressed in his normal weekend jeans and a new Haley's Tee shirt Pop has sent him last month. Alfred placed a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice in front of him and asked if pancakes would be all right. Dick, nodded, his mind obviously not on the menu. Alfred went back to the kitchen, the food would be ready in a few minutes and he didn't want to leave them alone too long—it wasn't that he didn't trust them alone together, but there was no use in borrowing trouble.
Bruce folded the Wall Street Journal he'd been reading and placed it carefully on the table. "Where's Roy?"
"Still asleep. I thought you'd want to do this without him here." Dick looked like he was girding for battle, and probably was.
"That was thoughtful of you, and yes, I think that's for the best. First of all, do you have anything to say?"
Dick was expecting this. "Just the obvious; we love each other and this isn't a fling or just an affair like you probably think it is. It's important to both of us and we're not going to stop seeing each other just because you and Ollie don't like it."
Bruce nodded. "I see." He sipped his coffee. "And what do you see the outcome being?"
"Between you and me or between me and Roy?"
"Both, I suppose."
"I hadn't thought that far ahead. C'mon Bruce, it's not like we're going to run away and get married or anything like that. We're seventeen years old, we're still both in high school; we're kind of locked in to what we have for now." He finished off the OJ then poured himself another glass from the pitcher. "And as for the gay thing, look, neither of us really sees ourselves as gay. Bi, maybe, but we both like girls. This thing between Roy and me isn't about—this is going to sound stupid—it isn't about gender or even sex; it's about us being together. I'd like him and I'd love him whatever his gender was." He stopped and looked at Bruce. "Does that make any sense?"
"I suppose it does to the two of you."
They heard pounding down the main staircase, despite the heavy carpeting then footsteps on the marble floor mixed with the squeaking of sneaker soles. "Hey, you promised you'd wake me up so we could eat breakfast together." And so you wouldn't have to face the Bat alone, you jerk. Roy slammed into the room before Dick could say anything. "Hey, good morning, Bruce. Sleep okay?" He stopped beside Dick, leaned down to give him a kiss full on the mouth (which seemed to stay closed this time, thank God) and sat himself in the closest chair.
"Yes, thank you, and yourself?"
"Like a baby." Bruce's sarcasm was lost on Roy. Either that or he decided to ignore it as he helped himself to the juice in front of him.
"Okay, so now you know about me and Dick. Can you live with it or not?" Roy never was one to mince words and Bruce saw that Dick was waiting for his answer as much as Roy was. In fact, he was half afraid the two of them would stare a hole through him.
Alfred, no accident, of course, chose that moment to deliver a tray full of food. "Gentlemen, pancakes, bacon and a choice of spiced apples or strawberries to go along. Now, please do my efforts justice, if you would. And, if you don't mind, I shall leave you to it and suggest you all remember that you are family." Dick and Roy exchanged a glance as he left—that wasn't as subtle as they would have expected from him.
"Bruce?"
"Alfred is concerned that I'll say something to upset you two."
Dick knew they'd been talking, probably for several hours, about what to do about the 'situation'. "What did he have in mind?"
Bruce wasn't about to be baited. "The only concerns I have are the ones you can understand. Roy, we all know you've had some problems and I don't want Dick to be drawn into them by you or by his own sense of loyalty. And Dick, I don't want to see you neglecting your responsibilities because of this. Is that all clear to both of you?"
The boys exchanged another look before Dick spoke. "Roy doesn't bring me down because he had a problem—which he's beaten. If anything, he, Roy—he's, he makes it possible for me to keep doing everything." Dick stared a challenge at Bruce. "We're together and it's going to stay that way for a while at least. If you have a problem with it, we'll move to the Tower so you don't have to deal with us directly."
Oddly, Bruce seemed to suddenly lose interest in the conversation. "There's no need for that. You're both welcomed here and if you wish to set up a room together, I have no objections." Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a JLA meeting to get ready for." With no other comment, he simply got up and left the boys alone with their breakfasts.
Roy was confused. If this had been a talk with Ollie, he'd still be screaming insults and possibly throwing dishes. "Dick? What just happened here?"
"Bruce just decided that it's not worth discussing because it—we'll—run our course and break up on our own sooner or later. I'd guess he's betting on sooner. That's what happened."
Roy didn't know Bruce as well as Dick did. "So that's it? He'll leave us alone now, no hassles?"
Dick nodded and cut off a piece from his stack of pancakes. "He's off our backs for now. C'mon, eat, we have plans."
Roy smiled, relieved—that was easier than he'd thought and if the Bat was okay with this for now, Ollie could take a flying leap. Bruce even said they could live together right upstairs—how cool was that?
Dick knew Bruce well enough to know that all that happened was they'd been granted a few months. Things would be fine for a while but as soon as the Bat realized that this was a long-term thing and not just a bedroom affair, well, then they'd have to talk again. Count on it.
6/10/06
9
