Title: "Bruce"

Fandom: Batman

Pairing: Batman/Robin (Bruce/Dick)

Author: Mona Ramsey

Series: Second in the "Dynamic Duo" series, sequel to "Wayne".

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Explicit slash (m/m) content.

Archive: Yes to WWOMB.

Notes: I don't use betas. :( Any mistakes are solely my fault and the fault of my *#^&@ spellcheck. ** is used for emphasis, // for thought. Any weird characters should be hunted down and killed.

Spoilers: Some; set after "Batman Forever".

Summary: The 'rest of the story'; a Bruce/Dick first-time story.

{I found out a few things from my last foray into "Batman" slash - everyone really wants to read more, and everyone has a completely different idea of who the ideal Batman was. C'est la vie, I say - let there be a Batman for everyone. Oh, and most of you would like some sex this time.}

It seems like I left off at a pretty good spot in the story, but maybe not. Maybe you'd like to know just what happened between Bruce and I after I knocked on his door. You would? Okay. . .

Let's see, what happened? Oh, yeah, I remember. Like I could really forget something like *that*. I mean, could you?

Chase had left. They'd tried to make a go of it, but it just hadn't worked out. Sometimes things just don't work out. Everybody knows that, but it's not always easy to remember that when you're sitting there with the wind knocked out of you. At least, that's what I figured Bruce was doing.

I'd sort of seen it coming. I'd known that she wasn't really happy - funny, when you're not happy yourself, sometimes it's easier to see that in other people, too. And I wasn't exactly a happy little camper those days, myself.

I just hadn't been able to get back in the swing of things, like I thought that I should. It was easier to be in 'Robin-mode' than 'Dick Grayson, college student-mode' at times. I relished being able to put on the costume and *become* this totally different person, someone who was in control, someone who could *do* things, help people, make things better. The whole superhero thing really felt good. Sometimes the muscles might protest, but, basically, it's a good gig. And Bruce and I go well together. I think he's really come to count on me to cover his back. It's a good feeling.

Only problem is, I don't get to be Robin 24-hours a day, seven days a week. There might be a week,ten days even, when nothing happens. True, it doesn't happen all that often - let's face it, there's more crime in Gotham than in your average metropolis (except Metropolis, of course) - but when it does, I think I'm going to go stark-raving nuts.

That's when there's nothing except me and the memories. It can be really bad. Bruce is great to talk to about it - really *talk*, you know? He understands better than someone else who hadn't seen their family murdered in front of them could possibly understand. And he listens to me, doesn't think what I'm feeling is stupid, just lets me get it off my chest and work through it. I love that about him.

And if it weren't for the fact that I love his abs and his eyes and those lips, too, everything would be great. Or so I thought.

The night that it happened, she gave back the ring and moved out. I'd seen her packing her bags that afternoon when I got home from school. I gave her a hug and told her that I hoped she was doing the right thing. She just gave me this look and said, "I have to." That was all. And I knew.

It was just me for dinner that night, so Al and I roughed it in the kitchen. She'd said good-bye to him already, and we both figured that Bruce wouldn't be in any mood to eat after they talked. Al would bring him a tray later, and he'd ignore it. The breakfast one he'd pick at with Al looking at him with that paternal look that he gets on his face that Bruce grumbles about but loves so much. I love it, too. Bruce would brood a little more than usual for a while, and then things would get back to normal, or whatever passes for normal in this place.

**********

We were just finishing the dishes when he came in. I was telling Al about the new English prof we'd got that week, and all of a sudden Bruce was standing there in the doorway. I stopped, and Al turned around.

"Master Bruce," Al said, not missing a beat. "Can I fix you a plate?"

"No, thanks, Alfred," Bruce said, and grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the table. "I'll just have this. I'm going to go into the gym, if anything comes up."

"Very good, sir."

*Anything* meant the Batsignal. I prayed that nothing would happen tonight. Not that Bruce didn't thrive under pressure, but even he needed a break every once in a while.

He walked out and went off to the gym. Sometimes I think he thinks that coming in and sitting down with Al and I would somehow be getting between us, or something. He doesn't have the easy camaraderie that we share, and he probably envies that. But he and Al have been together for so long, they have their relationship set up perfectly, and it works for them.

I wasn't surprised that he was retreating to the gym. He's a lot like me in that way - when it doubt, hit something, or run - *literally* run - away from it. Nothing like a rush of endorphins to give you a different perspective.

I tried to make my question to Al seem casual. "Has Bruce had a lot of - "

Al looked at me, a little smile on his face. "Female company?"

I nodded, staring intently at the dish that I was trying to remove the pattern from.

"Doctor Meridian was the first woman to spend any significant amount of time with Master Bruce. There were one or two others before her, but no-one that he truly cared for."

I nodded again. I wished I could have asked, "and men?" but that wasn't a conversation that I was prepared to have with Al - not yet, anyway.

**********

We finished up and Al went off to his room to listen to the radio and read the paper. I went up to do some work on a termpaper that was giving me pains and hook up on the computer for a while. One thing I'll give this place is it's information systems - in addition to being fully wired to the Internet, there's a hell of a library on the second floor. Every book you could ever imagine, on any subject you'd ever need to know anything about was right there at your fingertips.

I was there for a while, books and papers spread out across the mahogany table in the middle of the room, scribbling something I hoped would come off as at least passably brilliant, when Bruce stuck his head in.

"Don't work too late."

"Don't worry. There's only so much of this I can take before it knocks me unconscious," I grinned.

He gave me a half-smile, and then he was gone.

I only worked a few minutes longer before I packed it in. It was unusual for me to be doing homework on a Friday night, but I hadn't started off in the class with the best marks, and I really did want to do better, so I thought I'd get a head start. When I passed by Bruce's bedroom on the way to mine, I saw that his light was still on. I thought of knocking, but resisted it. Give him his space, I thought.

But I thought about him all the time I was undressing for bed. It wasn't particularly late, yet, only a little after eleven. /I'll just go see if he's still up,/ I thought. /If he isn't, then maybe I'll talk to him tomorrow./

Part of me really wanted the light to be off when I got to the door, but there it was, still blazing. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Everything inside me was screaming that it was a bad idea, but I did it anyway.

"Come in."

There was that voice again. It was like - melted butter, or velvet or something. My mind wasn't working very clearly at the time. I prayed that I hadn't given him enough time to get undressed.

I opened the door and stepped inside the room. He must have been expecting Al, because he wasn't dressed at *all*. He'd just come from the shower and he was covered in beaded drops of water and an extremely small towel around his waist. And nothing else.

My brain went into overdrive. I could feel my blush rising, but I thought it was probably dark enough in the room that he might not notice.

"I - " That sounded distinctly like a squeak. I tried again. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry." I managed to get that much out. "About Chase, I mean."

"Thanks."

He'd put a robe on, and I realized it was much easier to talk to him at least partially clothed. I perched on his bed, as he had mine not so very long ago. "I liked her."

"I know."

"She didn't treat me like a kid, like - "

" - like I do," Bruce finished for me.

"Yeah." It was true, I *did* like Chase. I think she knew about my feelings for Bruce. I wonder if she suspected about his feelings for me, and if that had anything to do with her decision to break their engagement. I know that she respected my feelings, because she toned it down between Bruce and her whenever I was around. Bruce had a surprising penchant for displaying affection - at least in the house. Maybe he was just comfortable with her. "You're getting better, though."

"I try."

I smiled. To my great surprise, he sat down beside me on the bed. I could smell the clean-ness of him, fresh and warm. "I'm glad you came, Dick. I wanted to talk to you about us."

I don't know whether my jaw was as far open as I felt like it was, but I shut it anyway. "Us? You mean Batman and Robin?"

"Partly," he said. "And partly Dick and Bruce."

Oh-boy. Either this was going to be a dream-come-true conversation, or I was not going to like this *at all*. "Okay," I said. "Shoot."

"We never had a chance to talk about what happened the night that Harvey died."

"The night that you came into my room."

"Yes," Bruce nodded. I bit my lip. "We need to - get some things straight."

Uh-oh. I wasn't enjoying it so far. "Okay. Maybe I should go first." Did that come out of *my* mouth?

Bruce nodded. "Sure."

"I don't suppose I've hid it very well - I mean, I practically kissed you that night. I *would* have, if the Batsignal hadn't gone off. Or, if you hadn't stopped me." I took his hand. "Would you have?"

"No."

Some measure of joy must have registered on my face, because he immediately continued, "But I probably should have."

"Why?"

"There are so many reasons why," Bruce said. He got up, and walked in front of the fireplace, and stared into it. All I could think was /he *wanted* me to kiss him./ "For one thing, you're my responsibility."

"I'm your partner, Bruce, not your kid. I'm eighteen, and responsible for myself, and my feelings."

"And we *are* partners," he continued, as if I hadn't said anything. "I depend on you."

"That wouldn't change."

"What if something happened between us and it didn't work out?"

I stood up beside him. "I'm not Chase, you know. She had her reasons for leaving you. I don't have any."

"You might."

I shook my head. "You'd have to think of something pretty horrible to scare me away."

"I've been known to be horrible without even trying."

"Yeah, well - I'm tough. Try me out." I *had* to know - if he pushed me away this time, then maybe - maybe I'd think twice about trying again. I moved closer to him.

He's only a little bit taller than me, but sometimes when I'm with him I feel like he's ten feet tall. Tonight, though, seeing the fear in his eyes and knowing that *I* was the one in control, I felt like he must feel with me sometimes - like I had to protect him, and let him know that it was going to be okay.

I didn't even touch him with anything but my mouth, and not anywhere but on his mouth - but it was electric, like a surge of energy going from my body to his. And he didn't do anything to push me away. Emboldened, I reached for him, pulling him closer for a deeper kiss, slipping my hands underneath the robe, finally connecting with the flesh that had been such a significant part of my dreams for so long.

"Bruce," I whispered, "I want you."

He didn't say anything. His lips were wet, glistening in the light of the fireplace. I raised my hands and slipped the robe away from his shoulders, watching the path it made as it fell down the length of him to puddle at his feet. I drew my breath in - I'd seen him before, changing into costume, and in the showers in the gym, but never like this - knowing that he was mine, that he wanted me like I wanted him. It changed everything.

I stepped back a little, to slip my own robe off. I was in boxers and a t-shirt underneath, but I made short work of those. I stood there in front of him for what felt like an eternity, just feeling his eyes rake my body. Finally, when I didn't think that I could stand it anymore, he took a step towards me.

It was all the encouragement that I needed. I met him halfway, and we collapsed together on the rug in front of the fire, our robes and my clothes tangled underneath us. I wanted to feel him everywhere, my hands were greedy for him. And my mouth - my mouth was wrestling with his as our bodies ground together, seeking an urgent completion.

His erection was hard and slick, pressing against me. Any lingering doubts I had that he wanted me disappeared, and I didn't want to think about anything except being with him. I shifted so that he was half-on top of me, the pressure of his thrusting body and hungry mouth drawing the climax out of me.

It had been so long since I'd been with anyone that I wasn't surprised when I came so quickly, just from the feel of his skin slick against me. But when I realized that he'd come, too, I almost laughed with joy. I slid my down his body and licked the come from his stomach - his and mine combined. It was delicious.

I moved up to thrust my tongue into his mouth, to share my treat with him. I wanted more, much more.

Bruce looked at me with amused eyes when I broke the kiss. "Eighteen," he said, shaking his head.

"I didn't see you lasting very long, either, mister superhero," I retorted.

"That's not what I was talking about," he said, and reached a warm hand down to grasp my erection. I hadn't even gotten soft.

I grinned. "That's what you do to me," I said. "I've been walking around like that for the better part of six months. It's going to take more than one time to make it go down."

"Then maybe we should move somewhere more comfortable," he suggested, standing up with the fluid grace that I've always loved about him. He held a hand down for me and drew me up beside him, and then led me over to the bed.

He drew the covers back and sat down on the edge, holding his hands out for me. I couldn't do anything for a moment but stand there, and then I rushed into his arms and rested my head on his shoulder.

"What is it, Dick?"

"I can't believe this is happening," I said. "I feel like I'm going to wake up alone and stuck to the sheets in my bed again."

He laughed gently, sliding his hands up and down my back, drawing shivers over my flesh. "You're not alone."

I drew my head back. "Neither are you, you know. I mean, you don't *have* to be. We can be together."

"Can we?" he asked, softly.

"Yes." I kissed him again, and pushed him back on the bed. There were so many things that I wanted to give him, and so many things that I wanted from him, and I didn't know that I wanted first. And all of a sudden, I *did* know.

"Bruce."

"Mmm?" His mouth was grazing mine again.

"I want you."

He didn't say anything, but stopped kissing me and stared into my eyes. I was afraid that I'd gone too far, asked for the moon when I already had the stars, but he smiled, and reached over to the drawer beside the bed and pulled it open. "Whatever you need," he said. I rolled over top of him to look inside.

There was condoms inside, and lubricant, and - a pair of handcuffs. I raised an eyebrow at that, and resolved to ask him about it - later. I pulled out the lubricant and a condom. "Do we need this?" I asked, indicating the condom. "I've never had sex without one."

"Neither have I."

"Then, if it's okay with you, I'd just as soon not. I'd like to feel you." It was a momentous statement - an admission that what we were getting into was going to be more than a single night of sex, but it was going to be a monogamous relationship.

"Okay," he said, and I let out the breath that I'd been holding. I held another when he asked, "How do you want me?"

A hysterical giggle was fighting its way out of my throat. /My god,/ I thought, /I'm in bed with *Bruce*. And I'm going to - *fuck*!/ My expletive nearly drew the giggle out, but I managed to hold it in. I closed my eyes and tried to centre myself, and then opened them again. Bruce was looking at me as if he knew every single thought that was running through my mind, and he was having them too. "On your side," I managed to say.

He nodded and rolled away from me. I don't know why it was so important for me to be the first to do this - maybe I did know. It wasn't about putting limits or boundaries on our relationship, it wasn't about dominance, and it sure as hell wasn't about me wanting to be on top all the time, because I was crazy to feel him inside me, too. What it *was* about was me proving to him that I was his equal, that I wasn't something to be protected, but something strong, and worthy of his love.

With that thought running through my mind, I slicked lubricant on my fingers and eased gently into him. I had my free hand against the small of his back, stroking softly in reassurance. I wasn't sure whether he'd ever experienced penetration before, but I figured that anyone with handcuffs in the nightstand couldn't be *too* against new experiences.

It didn't take long for him to relax enough for me to replace my fingers with my cock. I'd maintained my erection for so long that it was aching, and my first instinct was to pound into him. But I wanted him to love this as much as I loved him, so I paused to regain a little control, then began to thrust.

He didn't move at first, but after a while, he began to match my motion. I alternated between deep and short thrusts, trying to find the pleasure-centre that would trigger him, but it wasn't until I thought I wasn't going to be able to hold off that he made small gasp. He hadn't said anything at all to me, but I could feel him tense, and he reached behind to grip my thigh. I grinned and thrust again, just as I had before but with a little bit more speed, and he moaned. My rhythm set, I wrapped my arms around him, my palms flat against his nipples, and started kissing the back of his neck. He was helpless against his triple assault, and he knew it. He had no choice but to submit to me.

His moans became louder, and when I bit him softly and gave him one last, long thrust, moving my hands down to grab his cock, he lost it, calling out my name. I felt him shoot over my hands, and finally allowed my own protesting body to release its juice deep into him.

I came so hard I thought I'd pass out. The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back, breathing so hard I was almost hyperventilating, my pulse a dull roar in my ears. I opened my eyes, my body a complete dead weight, just barely able to move my head enough to see Bruce lying on his stomach beside me. I'd fallen one way, and he'd gone the other. He didn't seem to be in much better shape than me.

Finally, he turned his head to me. "Wow," he said.

"*Please* tell me that wasn't your first time."

He shook his head.

"Thank god," I said.

He grinned shakily. "Why?"

"Because I'd hate for you to expect it to be like that every time."

"What makes you think I don't?" he asked. "Besides," he said, managed to move closer to me, while I was still having trouble feeling most of my extremities, "next time it's my turn."

I laughed. "Give me an hour or so to recover, okay?"

He groaned. "An hour? You *are* eighteen. I'm thinking more like tonight."

"Deal." His arms went around me and I snuggled into them. I might be sticking to the sheets in the morning, but they weren't going to be *my* sheets.

**********

I dozed off for a little while, waking to the feeling of pins and needles in my left leg. I shifted it and waited for the feeling to return.

I looked at Bruce. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing deeply. He looked beautiful. I rested my head back against his chest.

"I loved her," he said, suddenly, very quiet.

I'd thought that he was asleep. My arms were wrapped around him, and I lifted my head a little to see him, and caught the very edge of his ear with my lips. "I know."

"I'd have married her."

"Yes."

He looked down, and I could see his eyes were very dark, and troubled. I wanted to kiss that trouble away. "I'm sorry."

I smiled. "Don't be," I whispered, kissing his eyelids shut. "It's all right. I'm here."

The End
MonaR.