he bruce/dick 25 bring the pain babe bring it
You are evil and vile and I love you so much <3
pssst everyone the prompt is “we can never be together” kiss
Dick’s fingers flexed, his hand so close to Bruce’s cheek, could feel the heat from it, if he hadn’t had his gloves on. He wanted to touch, always wanted to- but without his suit, he lacked the courage now.
Not after Bruce had accepted the touch, the kiss, in the quiet early hours of the sleeping Manor, and then pushed him off, as if Dick was a disease.
Bruce’s guantletted hand was there in a flash, gripping Dick’s wrist tightly, keeping his hand from pressing to his exposed cheek. His mouth was set in a firm line, and Dick knew his eyes- those eyes, those damn eyes- were cold, hard behind his cowl.
“Don’t,” he said, voice deep, gravely, and Dick almost shivered. He frowned, himself, tugging his hand free, letting it fall to his side. He wanted to follow it, to curl up on the cold pavement. Had wanted to do nothing but bury himself since Bruce’s rejection nights ago.
“Give me a chance,” he whispered, the words slow, careful. He didn’t want his voice to waver. “Just...a chance.”
“It’s never the time with you!” Dick squared his shoulders, tossing his arms out to the side. “I try to talk to you, and you avoid me. Doesn’t matter when, it seems you’ve just been too damn busy the past few days.” He reached out, jabbed his finger against the bat symbol on Bruce’s chest. “Goddamn do I have to make an appointment with you, Bruce?”
Codenames be damned, the city was dead around them, and Dick didn’t care. Bruce owed him a conversation, at least. Maybe if he’d only shoved Dick off, he could understand this avoidance. But he’d kissed him back, he’d clutched at him for a precious few moments like Dick was the center of his world, before he’d thrown him entirely from orbit.
“Just give me a fucking reason why,” Dick continued, felt his voice choking up, “why we can’t-”
The words broke off as Bruce surged forward, shoving Dick back the two steps to the wall behind him. He boxed him in, slamming one arm up against the old wall, the other gripping Dick’s chin tightly as he leaned in, covered his mouth with his own. Dick felt his stomach undiluting, his knees going weak, and he reached out, clutched at Bruce’s cape as teeth dragged on his lower lip, as a tongue pressed into his mouth, pinning his own.
He groaned around it, the hand on his chin moving back to tug at his hair, tilting his head slightly so Bruce could test each point of his teeth. Dick trembled, gasped when Bruce pulled back, was sure his pupils had gone to pinpoints and wasn’t even sure he was breathing.
“Because you matter,” Bruce offered, his hand loosening, leaving Dick’s hair. It stroked down to his cheek, the sharp points of his glove almost intimate. “Because you matter, and if I love you, I’m going to lose you.”
Dick stared at him, wanted so badly to shove the cowl back, to see his eyes. To know what was there. Reading nothing but the line of Bruce’s mouth, it was hard. Something he’d learned to do over the years, when he had no other option- but even as an adult, Dick didn’t like it.
Dick let go of his cape with one hand, reaching up, tracing the seam of the cowl. His plea was silent, one he expected to go ignored- after all, it wasn’t safe- but Bruce reached up, tugged it back, stared at Dick with those naked blue eyes.
They ached. And Dick’s chest began to cave in.
“The media will eat you alive,” he whispered, “Pick you to the bone. Slander you, over what you were when this started- my son, Dick.” Dick’s heart skipped a beat, and he was sure there was a special sort of hell reserved for him, for loving the fact that Bruce could call him that, and wanting him anyway.
“Not to mention what will happen to you, out here. You... won’t be able to leave this at home. You’ll love me here, as Batman, just as you would without the damn mask. I can’t have every criminal in Gotham looking at you like the golden ticket to me...”
Bruce glanced away, and Dick was shaking his head.
“I don’t care,” he offered, his gloved hand moving back, through Bruce’s hair. “Bruce, I-”
“If I love you, I will lose you.” He shook his head, leaning in, pressing his forehead to Dick’s. His eyes were squeezed shut, for a moment, and Dick knew Bruce didn’t have to continue. He knew what he meant.
If Bruce loved him, he’d curse him. Because everyone Bruce loved, in the end, found a way into an early grave. Found that the only way to stay alive was to sever all ties, to put the world between them.
If he loved Dick, he’d kill him. And no matter how cocky Dick was, he couldn’t fight Bruce on that. Not when he knew there was an air of truth to it. He’d seen it. The love Bruce had for his family was enough to bring the curse about, in lesser ways.
Dick felt Bruce tremble, and he hooked his arm around his shoulders, clutching him tightly.
“I can’t lose you,” Bruce whispered, “You deserve the world.” Silently, it was you are the world. Dick knew. Knew because he’d seen Bruce give him those looks, like the very universe they were a part of started and ended with him. Those looks that had started all this, the crazy beating of his heart up into his throat, ever since he was a boy.
A few costumes and a knew mantle later, and it didn’t matter. Dick still wanted to be the center of his world.
He wanted to tell Bruce he could handle it. Handle it however it had to be. If Bruce loved him in secret, for his safety- for public image, so be it. Dick would take it, knowing he had his heart.
But it was a lie, and he knew it. Secrecy would kill him. Seeing Bruce Wayne put on his playboy show would leave him broken. Seeing Batman act as if he had never wanted to kiss him would shatter his ribs.
Dick Grayson had enough lies in his life. He couldn’t add to them.
There were endless reasons, and whether based in any sort of rational thought or not, Dick knew it didn’t matter. Because Bruce’s mind was made up. Because, come the end of the night, he would protect his little robin, even if it meant hurting him, and denying himself.
Dick squeezed his eyes shut, surging forward, kissing Bruce again. This time, it was desperate, needy- the kind of kiss that was somehow a first and a last. A first of truths, a last, because Dick knew he never had a chance.
It was better that way, if Bruce couldn’t love him. Then maybe Dick might find some sort of happiness, instead of the hell the man was sure he’d bring down on him.
And all Bruce wanted was for his little bird to be happy.
