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A step in the right direction

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It's not that Dick and Bruce are lacking in experience.

Bruce may not be the pampered playboy that everyone with access to celebrity news and the internet thinks he is, but he's been around the block a few times with lovely (and powerful) women like Selina Kyle and Talia al Ghul.

He's no blushing virgin, that's for sure, and for that matter, neither is Dick.

However, Dick's private life is just that -- private.

Only a handful of people know what Dick gets up to in the bedroom and even less of those people know from firsthand experience. Guessing doesn't count and neither do the rumors that fly around the Watchtower whenever Dick comes back from an away mission with Roy Harper.

Especially since Roy -- while attractive enough to stop traffic and garner a rather sizable civilian fanbase in some parts of the world -- hasn't ever been that sort of intimate with Dick. (Aside from a kiss shared during a game of Truth or Dare back when they were Titans that Dick hopes no one remembers, that is.)

Bruce gets his fair share of talking up on the superhero gossip mill too, but it's not as bad as what Dick gets. Dick suspects that everyone is simply too scared to talk about Batman the same way they do everyone else. Dick bets that Bruce never gets to walk into a room only to overhear the tail end of a conversation about well... his tail.

If Dick and Bruce had slept with everyone that the rumors say, they wouldn't have time to fight crime or sleep or hell, get any work done at all. And they definitely wouldn't have time to keep fumbling around with each other as though they're kids and not grown men that have access to the internet.


Having experience with women doesn't mean jack when it comes to their relationship.

Dick -- despite his dark hair, blue eyes, and snappy commentary to everything -- is only superficially like Selina. And while Bruce shares some of that same powerful charm that drew Dick to Kory and Barbara after her, he is nothing like anyone that Dick has ever dated.

In that, they're practically perfect for each other.

The first time that Bruce invites Dick to his bedroom on one of their rare nights off, Dick finds himself worrying on end as he gets ready to sneak through the manor's cavernous halls down to Bruce's room on the second floor. His mind is so full of thoughts of what could go wrong, that he nearly forgets to grab a robe from his dresser so that he doesn’t go wandering about in his boxers alone.

Alfred may forgive plenty of their little idiosyncrasies, but there's no way that he'd forgive Dick for wandering around in the manor in next to nothing. That's a surefire way to wind up with chilly looks and equally cold servings of dinner in the evening if Dick has ever seen one.

So Dick doubles back and grabs his blue robe off the dresser next to his door because he's brave and a little reckless at times, but he knows better than to do anything that might upset Alfred. Anything aside from crime-fighting, of course, but Alfred has long since given up expressing his disapproval of that aspect of their lives.

Sleeping with Bruce -- if their relationship ever gets that far -- is probably bad enough, running around naked in the house that Alfred has taken care of for years would just be another nail in Dick's coffin.


Bruce's rooms in the manor make up the biggest suite in the house.

When Dick tests the doorknob and finds it unlocked, he pushes the door open and then stops on the threshold, glancing around the massive room as though if he blinks or glances away, it'll stop being real in front of him.

"I see you've been doing some redecorating," Dick says, fingers twisting at the sleeves of his robe as he takes in the way that the master bedroom looks far different from how it had looked just that afternoon.

Bruce's bedroom looks like Dick has walked into a scene torn straight out of one of the terrible romance novels that Barbara keeps tucked around her home.

The bedding has been changed from a staid and functional black and gray sheet set to a set of comfortable-looking blankets in a shade of deep blue that makes Dick want to roll around on the bed before he does anything else. And the lighting is -- well, it's a lot.

Dick doesn't know where Bruce went to find so many candles in that specific mix of black and a blue that matches the bright design plastered over the front of the suit he wears on patrol, but every single spare surface in the bedroom is covered by them and the flickering candle light is brighter than it has any right to be.

"Are the candles really necessary?"

Dick pushes the door shut behind him and then directs a smile in Bruce's direction once he hears the lock engage.

With only in a tiny scrap of towel knotted around his waist as he stands next to a giant mahogany armoire, Bruce looks the part of a romance novel hero.

At the very least, he definitely matches the room.

Long overdue for a haircut, Bruce's black hair curls damp and dark against his scalp and the nape of his thick neck. His dark blue eyes focus on Dick's face with a hunger that makes Dick shudder.

What Bruce says next, however, goes at odds with his powerful presence.

"You don't like it?" Bruce asks in a tone that would seem uncaring to all but the people that know Bruce best. To Dick, Bruce might as well be handing him the keys to his brain with that carefully neutral tone. The lack of emotion in Bruce's inflection says it all: Bruce is just as worried as Dick is. He's just as nervous about things going well as Dick has been for the past hour.

Dick offers Bruce a smile. "I'm impressed," he says and it's the truth.

Everything about the room speaks of Bruce's plans for seduction. The dark blue sheets that look as though they'll feel like heaven against his skin. The careful choice of candles that match Dick's suit. All that they need now is romantic music and scattered handfuls of rose petals and it'll be like a proper romance novel.

The thought makes Dick grin at Bruce. Not because he wants the romance novel treatment, but because the mental image of Bruce trying to pull it off is just that funny.

"Promise me you won't pull out any rose petals while we're here," Dick teases, sliding his fingers down over the front of his robe and tugging it open so that Bruce gets a tantalizing glimpse of bare skin. "I already feel like I'm in a romance novel or some shitty softcore porn."

A barely imperceptible furrow appears in the space between Bruce's thick eyebrows and he takes several steps towards Dick before he catches himself and stops moving. "Is that -- a bad thing?"

Shrugging, Dick says, "It's a thing."

When Bruce gives him a narrow-eyed glare that's more offended than angry, Dick pulls a face at him.

"What? I didn't say I hated it or anything," Dick says, sounding a little put out to his own ears. "It's just a little... weird. I feel like we're acting instead of doing this for real."

And boy does Dick want to do it for real. Even if he's not entirely sure of what it is for them.

Furtive internet searches over the past few weeks have done more to leave Dick frowning with confusion than actually opening his mind. Dick knows what he likes, but Bruce is a whole different animal. And aside from a few deep kisses stolen while everyone else was sleeping or otherwise occupied, he and Bruce haven't actually managed to get to a point where they can try to figure each other out.

Maybe they're both clueless about that sort of thing, Dick thinks to himself, letting the thought distract him thoroughly. Maybe neither one of them knows what they're doing. And isn't that a thought.

"You're distracted," Bruce says and when Dick looks at him, he can see a faint deepening of the other man's frown lines.

Bruce holds himself so stiffly underneath Dick's gaze, that if it wasn't for the rise and fall of his chest along with the telltale twitch of Bruce's penis underneath that towel, Dick would think that he's looking at a statue or a mannequin.

"Yeah," Dick says, smiling at Bruce as he crosses the floor so that he can stand in front of his (lover? boyfriend? partner?). "By you. You're wearing a little towel like that and you really think that I could pay attention to anything but what we're going to get up to after I get you out of it?"

Before Bruce can say anything, Dick reaches up to curve one hand around the nape of Bruce's neck and tilts his head upwards at the same time, pulling Bruce down into a kiss -- their first of the night since the quick kiss they had shared while alone in the kitchen for a brief moment before dinner doesn't count.

Thankfully, Bruce's thin lips are softer than they look.

He utters a low sound of hunger and then wraps one strong arm against Dick's waist, pulling him in close until there's no ignoring the prominent bulge of Bruce's erection as it presses against Dick's groin. Their kiss deepens. Bruce's fingers flex over one side of Dick's hip, squeezing hard enough that Dick knows that come morning, he'll have the faintest of finger-shaped bruises there.

Dick likes that thought.

But he wants more --

Dick wants to ask Bruce for something that he doesn't really know about beyond a few times of experimentation with Kory when they were barely old enough to know what they were doing. Dick wants Bruce to do more than nuzzle minty kisses against one corner of his mouth as Bruce alternates between petting and gripping his hip.

Dick pulls out of the kiss slowly, dragging it out until he can't anymore, and then smiles, a quick thing of bared teeth and promises of something undefinable.

"I hope you're as good in bed as you are with kissing," Dick says, fighting back the sigh that threatens to escape when one of Bruce's huge hands settles firmly against the curve of his ass. "We can't both be hopeless here..."

But from the way that Bruce's dark eyes widen, Dick gets the picture pretty quickly. He blinks up at Bruce, feeling a thread of worry stretch between them.

"How -- But -- You went to an all-boys boarding school," Dick breathes, his tone making the words come out as an accusation rather than as a clear statement of fact. He stares up at Bruce and he just knows that the confusion on Bruce's face is mirrored on his own. "I thought you've done --"

Bruce shakes his head.

"Nothing like this," he says as the hand he has on Dick's hip twitches. "I went to school with boys I couldn't trust not to stab me in the back when I turned around. Boys that grew up to be men like Lex Luthor."

And Harvey Dent, Dick thinks to himself, but he doesn't call Bruce out on leaving out the one man that might have come the closest to being right where Dick is right now.

If Bruce notices the way that Dick's attention wavers for a moment, he doesn't mention it. He leans in again and kisses Dick square on the mouth, making it deep and sweet enough that Dick feels his knees threaten to go weak right then and there. But before Dick can just drop, Bruce breaks the kiss and gives him a faint smile that makes his heart feel as though it's trying to backflip right out of his chest.

"Kissing them was out of the question for most of them and even if it had been, I didn't want them," Bruce says as he looks down at Dick with a tender bit of emotion on his face. "Not like this."

"But you want me?"

Dick has to ask.

Dick can read body language better than almost everyone he knows and he gets the message that Bruce's body is all but shouting at him. But that doesn't mean that it wouldn't be nice to hear out loud.

"I do want you," Bruce says, speaking firmly as though he wants to impress the words into Dick's brain.

He steps back slightly and then, before Dick can do more than quietly mourn the end of their intimate contact, reaches out and cups Dick's face in both hands. The next kiss that they share, that Bruce presses against Dick's mouth until he's breathing hard and his penis is jutting hard against the front of his underwear, is deep and hungry with an edge of desperation that makes Dick's head swim.

By the time that Bruce stops kissing Dick, Dick doesn't think that there's a drop of blood in his body that isn't trying to rush south. He looks up at Bruce, panting as though he's run miles in the summer instead of having the sense kissed out of his head. When Bruce closes his fingers around Dick's wrist in a tight grip and starts pulling him over to the big bed and those gorgeous blue sheets, Dick goes without a complaint.

Dick kisses Bruce once more before they're at the bed, nuzzling in against Bruce's stubble-roughened jaw. If there's one thing that Dick does know how to do well, it's kissing. He loves kissing and kissing Bruce, who's spent half of Dick's life being an unobtainable fantasy object for him, is just icing on the cake.

"What are we doing now?" Dick asks when they're finally on the bed, stretching out over the sumptuous sheets and smiling at the pleasurable sensation that movement elicits. His robe is long gone and the tiny buttons of his boxer shorts are open enough that his erection is hanging out. He's hard, and Bruce is too, but that doesn't mean that either one of them has the slightest clue of how to go about this.

When Dick voices that thought in the form of yet another question, Bruce shakes his head in response and starts to move in his direction.

The massive bed dips from that movement, rocking Dick's body enough that he has to steady himself with one hand pressed flat and firm against the mattress lest he roll right off the bed and end their night with laughter instead of plenty of orgasms had between them.

Dick licks his lips, feeling in parts nervous and starving for touch. "What do you like?"

The look that Bruce directs at him is both teasing and openly admiring. "What do you like?"

"You can't answer a question with a question," Dick says with amusement lacing his words. He aims a light swat at Bruce's shoulder and then smiles. "I've never had anything bigger up there than a few fingers and Kory's tongue that one time, but I liked it. And um... I like to be held down."

The hunger shining in Bruce's blue eyes deepens. "You do?"

Before Bruce can reach for Dick to kiss him again or -- if Dick is reading him right -- push him over so that he can take charge, Dick takes the lead. He turns the table on Bruce in an instant, getting Bruce on his back and then straddling his lap with a roll of his hips that leaves Bruce groaning and fisting his fingers in the sheets.

Dick presses a kiss to Bruce's jaw and then pulls away, feeling a smile tug at his mouth.

"Looks like you do too," he murmurs before licking his lips.

Dick rocks back slightly, shifting so that he's sitting across Bruce's thighs, and then pushes his hand in between his bodies so that he can curl his fingers around the hot heat of Bruce's heavy erection.

Bruce's erection feels good in Dick's hand, hot and hard and slick enough that Dick feels his own penis twitch in response. Maybe Dick doesn't know everything about what he and Bruce can get up to, but he knows enough. Squeezing just so gets Dick a low groan in response. Rubbing his thumb over the slick tip makes Bruce grunt and buck against his hand, trying his hardest to get a little more pleasure from that touch.

"You should get something out of this too," Bruce says. He works one hand down in between their bodies and his hand is so big that with a little work and a lot of "helpful" squirming on Dick's part, he can close his fingers around both of their shafts, squeezing their penises together in a halting, awkward stroke that still manages to leave Dick's toes curling despite how new it all is.

It's not perfect. At all.

It's clumsy and loose and a little too rough at times, but it's what Dick has been waiting for since their very first kiss two months previously. He pants Bruce's name and then moans when Bruce responds by taking him properly in hand.

Now that is perfect.

The stroke of Bruce's thick fingers becomes good and tight, sliding over the slick skin of Dick's shaft in a rhythm that makes Dick jerk and pitch forward, pressing his mouth to Bruce's throat in order to muffle his moans.

"Oh! Oh, Bruce," Dick says, groaning when it hits him that this is probably how Bruce touches himself. This is what works best for Bruce, a tight grip with a firm rub to the underside of his shaft that gets Dick panting even louder as he tries to thrust into Bruce's hand.

"You like this?"

When Dick moans in response, Bruce rewards him with a quick kiss to the side of his face and the slow rub of his callused thumb over Dick's sensitive skin. Sure, Dick has calluses of his own, calluses that he puts to good use when jacking off, but Bruce's calluses, while they aren't exactly new per say, they're new enough to Dick who jerks and shudders every time Bruce puts them into play on his skin.

Bruce doesn't even bother to hide the smug tone in his voice and Dick laughs breathlessly, wiggling until Bruce gets the idea and starts to stroke him with a firmer stroke. "I didn't think it'd be like this..."

"Y-yeah," Dick says, trying to keep his voice level even as pleasure coils low and tight in his balls. "Wait till we figure out what we're doing... It'll be even better then."

But honestly, Dick can't even begin to imagine how that will be possible (or survivable). Bruce is doing such a good job on him now, that Dick doesn't think that he'd be able to handle Bruce once they both know each other's hot spots. Dick moans, thrusting into Bruce's hand as his body warms with heat and his orgasm looms in the very near future.

"Stay the night," Bruce says in a low, rumbling tone. "Please?"

As long as he has Bruce's hand his skin like that, Dick feels likely to promise the man everything that he wants.

The moon.

The stars.


When Dick nods his head, Bruce gives him one tight, hot stroke from base to tip and Dick just -- falls apart. His vision doesn't white out and he definitely doesn't forget his name, but when he comes, it's like his whole body stops working except the parts in control of pleasure.

As far as orgasms go, it's definitely in the top ten. Maybe in the top five if Dick shoves aside the ones that were the result of solo sessions.

"That was good," Dick says when he can force his throat to work on uttering something aside from moans. He kisses Bruce, quick and as chaste as he can make it with Bruce's sticky hand still curled loosely around his softening penis. "Now it's your turn."

Bruce eyes crinkle up with a small smile. "I thought you didn't know what you were doing..."

Dick grins and then wriggles around so that he can glance down at where Bruce's impressive erection juts upward between their bodies.

"I'll figure it out," Dick says with a shrug. "Trial and error and all that. Besides, it's not like I'm gonna poke out my eye or something. I think I know the basics of giving a guy a handjob... After all, I've been doing myself long enough."

Before Bruce can rib him again, Dick leans in and kisses Bruce again.

"We'll be fine," Dick says after their kiss is done and he feels his own spent body straining to react to the faint stimulation, confidence infusing his words as he looks into Bruce's eyes. He doesn't clarify whether he's talking about their relationship as a whole or this one moment. Probably because he's still stuck on how they're here and they're really doing this. Either one is more than Dick ever hoped for. "Trust me."