The Memoirs

Clark had kind of… wandered off. He hadn’t meant to, but these people were more then a little insane. Lex had told him he was going off to help his father with a bellowing Dominic, and Clark had followed Pete and Shayla through the kitchen and up the steps. He really... he needed to talk to his friend. He'd seen distance, and sadness in his eyes, and it was very… it was strange.

 

Plus, you know, Pete and Sam. Or rather, Dick. Holy. Crap.

 

Shayla sighed deeply, and poked Pete in the shoulder.  "We have a little lost puppy following us," she whispered quietly into his ear.

 

"I know." Pete murmured it, as they walked through the main hall that branched off to six different little hallways. "He wants to talk. I know Clark. Well... I don’t think I can talk to him right now. Not yet."

 

At the end of one of those six hallways, Dick had just emerged from Bruce's room.  He'd heard muffled commotion downstairs and was wandering down to find out what was going on, when at the end of the other hallway--

 

Pete.  And some blond--No, that would have to be Shayla.  And Clark, following behind them like a lost puppy.  Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, he buried the choking feeling in his throat and hailed them.  "Clark!  Pete.  Shayla.  What's going on downstairs?"

 

Shayla rubbed her cheek against his shoulder.  "You don't have to talk to any--"  She paused as Dick bellowed for them.  "Ignore him, baby.  You don't have to talk to anybody you don't want to."

 

He heard the cry...pain slipped into his eyes as easy as water, and he shook his head, grasping a palm around her waist. "Pl… please, Shay, lets get out of here."

 

"Yeah.  Come on.  I know the way--spent way too damn much time exploring when nobody was watching me."  She leaned against one of the painted panels in the hallway, and it opened just enough for her and Pete to slip into.  She looked around, and then hung a left.  "Come on, this runs parallel to our hall, and it'll come out right across the way from my room."

 

An eyebrow rose. Hard. Arched right into his hairline. Sam was coming towards him... only it wasn’t Sam, not at all. The hair was different... even the intonation of his voice was different. He was dressed unlike Sam... and Clark was suddenly, very acutely, realizing something was most definitely amiss here. "Sam...hey. I was wanting to talk to Pete… what’s up?"

 

Pete’s eyes were already filled. The first time he'd heard Sam's voice since the incident in the library, and he was trying so hard, but oh, God. "Shay... he… did you hear him?"

 

Dick shook his head lightly.  "I'm sorry, Clark... I thought Lex would have told you by now.  My name's Dick.  Dick Grayson, from Metropolis."  He held his hand out.  "It's a long story."

 

"I heard him."  She wrapped both of his arms around her waist, and leaned against the wall, holding them both up.  "It's okay, Pete.  It's supposed to hurt, I think.  It's okay.  I love you, though.  I'm going to help you through the hurt."

 

His eyebrow rose... the other lowered. When Lex had said Dick was with Bruce… he hadn’t quite realized... what the living hell? "I’m guessing." He held his own out, and shook firmly. "Uh.... why exactly..." He blinked. Frowned. "Is that why Pete is upset?  You know, man, I don’t mess with people as a general rule. But sleeping with his girlfriend... that’s messed up."

 

Dick grunted softly.  "No.  I didn't sleep with Pete's girlfriend.  I slept with him."

 

Oh, fuck a duck. He heaved a quiet, soft breath...and closed his eyes. "Had a feeling you were going to say that." He opened them once more, and looked at him. “Sam, what’s been going on? Is everything alright?"

 

"C'mon.  Let's go back to my room; I'm gathering Pete doesn't want to talk to either of us right now, and Shayla's going to bulldog anyway."  He rubbed a hand over his eyes.  "Fuck and goddammit.  I was hoping--well, come on.  I'll tell you the very long story--in the short version."

 

He looked back. A warm, cuddly Lex could very possibly be waiting for him. One hand, sexy Lexy. On the other hand... his friend Pete, and.... this person in front of him, who Clark was suddenly realizing wasn’t Sam at all. And the utter pain Pete must be in. Fuck if Clark didn’t know he was a shitty friend. He followed Sam... Dick... whoever, down the hall, casting an eye down the one they passed.

 

And it broke him, to see his friends skeleton, and Shayla's, hugging tightly as those bony, male shoulders shook.

 

"I’m not going to like it, am I?"

 

"In fact, I'd go so far as to say you're likely going to hate it--and me--by the time it's done."  Which, in reflection, was a shame.  He didn't know Clark that well--only as much as he'd allowed himself to--but he had a feeling that the kid was a good friend, and a good man. 

 

"I don’t know about that." He said it quietly, as he followed. "I don’t hate people on principle. Everyone makes mistakes... its how you fix those mistakes that shows the world the type of man that you are." Clark nodded it, and damned if they weren’t the words he lived by. "Its forgiving, and asking for forgiveness, that shows the world that you're human." He pushed his dark hair from his eyes... pushing his blue sweater that had shrunk in the wash some time ago a little further down on his hips. Not that it went far.

 

Dick pushed open the door to Bruce's bedroom, not knowing that Clark had been in here once before.  He pointed to the chairs by the fireplace.  "Have a seat; do you want something to drink?"  Dick didn't look at Clark as he walked across the room to the sideboard, and poured himself a drink.  "I tried to fix them, Clark, I just don't think it took."

 

His cheeks burned. Pink. He stepped in... swallowed, managed not to gasp, and his eyes went wide. Oh God. Images... Chloe, Whitney, his Lex in positions and placed he'd never even dreamed of. Pleasure. Holy mackerel. "I... I don’t drink...'m only sixteen." A nod, a cough, and he swallowed, following his friend. "Nice.. .ah… room."

 

"I won't tell if you won't."  Dick poured a second glass of scotch and held it out to Clark.  "Yeah, it is.  Lex keeps it up for Bruce so whenever he visits... it's always ready for him."

 

"I’ve never..." But Clark took the glass anyway, and looked into it. "I know." ...He glanced up. "I mean, Lex is really... he likes keeping things neat and orderly. Of course he... he'd have things prepared." Cough. "I’ve never...drunk anything before. Just so you know."

 

"Then there's a first time for everything."  Dick settled into the chair across from Clark.  "Okay.  Where do you want me to start?  Ask me anything, be prepared to hear anything."

 

Clark followed suit and settled into the chair in front of Dick... swallowing and taking an experimental sip. Hot like fire and scalding, and he barely kept himself from coughing… then did anyway, hacking and gasping for all he was worth. Cough. Okay. Better. He cleared his throat… coughed again, and peered into the glass. "Ah...oh..." Cough. "Okay."

 

Dick laughed.  "I'm sorry, Clark, I should have warned you about that first sip.  I had the same reaction first time I drank brandy with Bruce."

 

That made him stop, still coughing softly into the back of his palm... and he frowned, very gently. "How old are you, Dick?"

 

"I'm twenty one.  I'll be twenty two in... three months and a week." 

 

Oh, God. Clark could almost here Pete sobbing. "Twenty one? I... and you... huh?" He tentatively sat back into the cushions of the comfortable chair... Lex seemed to have an abundance of comfortable chairs. "You and Pete... you guys... but Pete's not gay, Sam."

 

"Yes.  Twenty one."  Dick echoed the motion and settled back in the chair.  "No... Pete really isn't gay, Clark.  He's... bisexual, I suppose, or if you'd prefer, he's straight with one exception to that."  A deep sigh.  "Me."

 

He really, really, really didn’t like where this was going, and he barely put his glass aside before cracking it. "You and my Pete had an affair?"

 

"Yes, we did.  For... six months, actually.  Until Bruce found me."

 

Oh, God. "You... and Mr. Wayne?"

 

"Bruce and I have been together for four, almost five years.  Since the death of my parents, in fact.  Bruce was the only person who would take me in.  We got together, we fell in love.  Only... he hurt me very badly.  Shut me out of a very important part of his life.  So... I left.  I didn't intend to go back, because I knew Bruce wouldn't change his ways.  I ended up here, in Smallville.  Which is where I met Pete."

 

"And... all this time..." Clark frowned softly. "You guys have been together...and Bruce came back here, looking for you. Lex told me that much... he's been secretive about you two for some reason." A reason he now knew, and would chastise his beloved lover for later. "Five years... that’s... that’s amazing, actually." And it was his turn to flush softly. God, how he prayed and hoped he and his aushna' would be together in five years… in ten… in twenty.

 

"Yeah... it is amazing."  Dick gently rolled the glass between his palms.  "I didn't mean to love Pete, Clark.  And I didn't mean for him to fall in love with me.  It just... happened."

 

He knew the L word had been coming. "You dumped him."

 

"Yeah."  There really was no nice way to put it.  "When Bruce came into town.  I didn't intend to dump Pete for Bruce.  You can believe me or not.  But it's true.  Pete and I, we left the coffeehouse together.  We went back to my apartment... we had Chinese and beer.  And Grand Theft Auto."  A quiet, self-mocking laugh.  "Bruce camped outside my doorstep.  Pete... Pete basically told me to get my ass out there because I belonged with Bruce."

 

How very like his sweet friend. Clark shook his head gently, tugging his legs up Indian style, comfortably in his white socks and grubby, worn in jeans, and sighed softly. "That’s how Pete is. He knew you loved him still… and he knew he had to move over." He shook his head softly, took the glass from the small table once more, and threw it back. It burned, scalded his throat… then turned to liquid molasses on its way down. He hissed... then sighed, softly, and closed his eyes. "Suddenly realizing why people like this stuff."

 

"Yeah.  Me too.  Took a while for it to grow on me, but... yeah.  It definitely makes things go down easier."

 

"Pete blew up, didn’t he?"

 

"Yeah, he did.  Here, at the mansion.  Down in the library."  He finished his own drink, and set the empty glass on the small table to the side.  "We had it out."

 

"What are you expecting, Sam? For me to go postal on your ass?" Clark offered a small smile. "Okay, the thought crossed my mind before I could get a reign on it." He set the glass aside once more, and leaned over. "Sam, you remember one thing. You are a human being. You're a good man, and you did what you knew, in your heart, was right. Sometimes, though," He spoke gently. "People get fucked over when you're doing the right thing. That’s how the world turns. But I know Pete... and I know the way he thinks. Don’t count him out and gone just yet. Give him time." A nod. "He's a great, wonderful, kind guy.... he's my best friend. A friend I’ve neglected lately and shouldn’t have." He half murmured the last part to himself, before back to Dick. "You know you made the right choice. Now you just have to go back and mend. If Pete meant anything to you... you're gonna have to do it. If not... you just move on, and let his life settle again."

 

Dick gave Clark a half-hearted glare.  "Are you joking, Clark?  Of course Pete meant something to me.  I've gotten on my knees and begged him to stay friends with me, to come with me to Gotham and start over if he needs to."

 

"That, he won’t do. Pete's all about his parents, and his brothers. Loves them, a lot." Clark nodded, and in his heart, felt older then words could express. "Let him heal awhile."

 

"I'm trying, Clark.  I am.  And in my heart, inside me, I know how Pete feels.  I do.  Because we both lost the same things.  He lost his lover and his best friend--and so did I.  He--I think Shayla's becoming his best friend now, and I'm happy for him, but... I want my friend Pete back, even though I know I never will."

 

"I fell in love with Pete my eighth grade year." Softly.

 

Dick looked up sharply at that.  "What?"

 

He glanced up under his lashes. "A crush. Puppy love, you know? He's been my best friend since kindergarten... and I'd found out that I was gay very recently. You know, you kinda get the clue when your eyes are following asses and dicks instead of breasts. And I... I think a part of it was wanting to experiment. But I fell in love with him. Looking back, I know it wasn’t love so much as infatuation... but he and I, we got into a huge argument over it. Huge. I mean... I came over to his house one night, and tried to kiss him... and he blew up. Bellowing that I didn’t know what love was, that I was crazy for thinking I loved him. And years later... just this past summer, he told me did, and had, loved me too, for a long time. I didn’t... Pete's not gay though. He isn’t. He likes boobs too much. But anyway, we fought... didn’t talk to one another for almost a year, that’s how bad it was. And then suddenly, one day, he found me in the hall, hugged me, and asked me to come with him and Chloe to the movies that night. And... everything? It was okay. You know? Dick, have faith. I know Pete, better then I know myself."

 

Dick shook his head softly, processing all the information that he'd just been given.  "Pete never said anything about it," was his only comment after a long moment.  "Bruce and Lex used to be lovers too, and they ended nearly as badly as Pete and I did.  And I do have faith, Clark, because if Bruce and Lex can end up friends, then there's a chance for Pete and I too.  I just... it hurts to know that one of the people who is most important to me... basically thinks I'm dead to him now."

 

It had finally happened.  Pete had thrown her out of the bedroom.  Gently, pleading with her to leave so he could cry in peace, without her seeing it.  Despite the fact that she wanted to stay with her lover, she had finally agreed, and left Pete alone in her bed.  And she was nosy as hell; she wanted to know why Dick and Clark had been following them, and she leaned against the secret door to Bruce's room, listening.

 

And she was shocked.  She liked Dick even less now, the selfish fucker, but Clark was surprising her.  She resolved to try and catch Clark on his way out, try to explain things, just a little, from Pete's side.

 

"Dick... in my heart, and its a young one, I can see... and hear in your voice, how much you loved him. I know you did. And even now, you still love him, even when you're with Bruce. But Sam, you can’t let that blind you. I adore Pete… he's one of the sweetest, kindest people I’ve ever known. But he can be stubborn as a mule... and he can hold on to pain for as long as he sees fit." There was deep affection in Clarks voice. "He holds grudges. Not long... but his pride is what’s been wounded here, I'd almost guarantee it. Above love, above everything else, he hurts because he'd proud. And when people leave him, for any reason… it hurts him on a deep, deep level. But you have to know... when he loves, he loves forever, lovers or friendship. He's always going to care for you… and he's the type of person that something like this would eat him alive until he set it right. And he will... because I saw, just a while ago, how much he cared."

 

"I do love him, Clark.  I do.  I'd do anything he asked of me, give him anything he wanted without blinking an eye.  He deserves that, and so much more."  Dick sighed.  "I hurt him on every level, I know I did.  He made sure I knew it, and I deserved it.  Every bit of it."  Then he looked up.  "What did you see?"

 

"Him and Shayla." And this time, Clark smiled. "Sam, I’m a country bumpkin... born and raised, cornfed and cow pattied. But when it comes to people, I’m quick. He's hurting... but I think you just pushed him into the path of someone who could very well become the someone."

 

"I hope so; Pete deserves someone who's going to be a good friend to him.  Someone who's not going to leave him like I did."  Dick didn't get what Clark was not-so-subtly hinting at.  "She's become damned protective of him; I thought that once, she was going to rip my balls off, just like she threatened."

 

"No… Sam." Softly, and he leaned in a little. "The someone. You know... Nicole to his Tom.  Bad analogy, but you know."

 

Dick shook his head gently.  "No.  Not that little... twit."

 

"She's not a twit." His eyes were somber, but happy for his friend, and hurting for Sam. "Okay, she's kind of a twit. But she's got a huge heart inside her little tattooed chest, dontcha know."

 

Shayla was biting down hard on her lip.  She wanted to kick down the door, rip Dick's tongue out for calling her a twit, and then shove it up his ass.

 

"No.  He wouldn't.  Not so soon."  Dick shook his head.  "I haven't--not with Bruce, not since the first night.  I--I can't.  Not yet.  He can't."

 

Shayla's teeth all but dropped out of her jaw at that.

 

Clark softened even more, and reached over, gently squeezing his hand. He and Dick were a lot alike, and he felt so bad for him... on every level he knew. "Sam..." Because he knew Pete and Shayla were having sex. And a lot of it, so he'd come to believe. "I’m so sorry.  How..." Gently. "How are you and Bruce?"

 

Dick jerked away from Clark for a moment, blinking and swallowing hard.  Tears he hadn't been able to shed before threatened now to pour from his eyes.  "We--we're fine.  He understands, Bruce does, I mean.  He understands, and he's there."

 

"No." He shook his head, and looked into those brimming, shining eyes. "Dick..." Softly. "How are you?"

 

"I'll be fine, Clark."  Anger and resentment choked him, but he choked it back down, hid it well.  "I'm just surprised, that's all."

 

No, he wouldn’t. "No, you're not." But he passed it quietly on, and switched topics. "You and I are a lot alike, you know."

 

"We are?"  Dick swallowed it all back, and blinked, the tears slowly disappearing.  "How are we alike?"

 

"For one, both our boyfriends are five and six years older then us. And, you know, are like, billionaires." He said it quietly. "Both of us are not involved in everything in their lives... they both have a lot to hide, and we both have a lot to give. We're too trusting... and we love too easily." There was a smile in Clarks voice. "And we love too much."

 

"What is it with those older rich men, hmm?"  Dick's voice was lightly, almost painfully playful.  "Not enough they have all that money, gotta have those secrets too."  The smile was almost breaking his face.  "Lex is a lucky guy, Clark.  He really is."

 

"We also have a tendency to hurt, badly, and not tell anyone." And Clark was looking directly into Dick's eyes.

 

"You're not subtle, Clark," Dick said softly.

 

"Told you I was a farm boy." He squeezed a tightly fisted hand again, gently. "My mom always told me... love is pain. Pain is love. There are no different entities there. When you love someone, your heart will bleed for and with and because of them. Not much you can do, but thank God that someone found you, loved you, and let you go." He settled in his chair again. "Sometimes I think of human beings as little tad poles, all swimming upstream. On that way we're going to meet a whole lot of tad poles... some who hurt us and push us back, and some who care and push us forward. Its just a matter of how you react to those tadpoles that makes you who you are."

 

"Your mother is a very, very smart lady, Clark."  A pause as he stared into the fire.  "That heart bleeding because of them thing?  That's why I left Bruce in the first place.  I didn't think I could bleed anymore.  But then... it took him six months to find me, because I'd hidden here so well, but he did--and it was a fluke.  He'd come to Lex for help, and just happened to stop by the Talon for coffee on the way back here.  And I was there with Pete.  I'd just--I'd just given Pete a blow job under the same table in the same restaurant a day or two before.  And then... suddenly... there was Bruce.  Standing in the doorway and so shocked to see me.  Total fluke, but there he was."

 

"And everything just clicked, didn’t it?" Quietly.

 

"Yeah, it did.  I had to get out of there.  It was just... painful and wonderful all at once, and I didn't want to go back to the same old pain but I couldn't stand seeing Bruce standing there, looking like I was ripping his heart right out of his chest."  Voice dropped to a whisper.  "So I ran."

 

"You had every right to. Every." Clark emphasized the word with a nod. "I don’t know Bruce, but I can just imagine how deeply you both love one another, Dick. And that type of pain... I would have done the same thing."

 

It was Dick's turn to look up at Clark.  "If you know Lex at all... then you know Bruce.  Because they are so much alike--and still, in some ways, diametrically different--that it's frightening."

 

At that, Clark had to smile. "I told you you and I were alike. Lex is... Lex is everything. Everything." A nod, because it wasn’t a compliment to his lover... it was the truth. His aushna' was everything to him... life would not be bearable without him. "I don’t know how you could stay away from him for so long."

 

"It was either that, or lose my mind," Dick said softly.  "Because I would have.  He would have continued to shut me out, and it would have kept driving me insane.  I would have had to have either left, or lost my mind."

 

"What... if I’m intruding tell me, but what did he push you out on, Dick?"

 

"You're not intruding, Clark... but I can't tell you.  I'm sorry."

 

"More secrets." And his voice was amused and quiet. "We all have them, and I understand. Whatever it was, it was bad enough to make you leave... that’s all I need."

 

"Yes... more secrets."  Dick settled back in the chair.  "It could have gotten him killed, Clark.  And I could have helped him, if he'd let me in.  And that's all I can tell you.  But now... now he's agreed.  It... I didn't know.  But when I left... Bruce said I destroyed him.  And... I think I did.  I didn't know, I didn't expect to, but... he was a mess, Clark."

 

"What do you mean?" And Clark was doing one of the most important talents he had. Simply listening.

 

"He talked.  More than I've ever known him to say in five years, he's said in a few days.  He's told me all the things I wanted to hear before I left, all the things that not hearing made me leave.  He's said he loves me... that I'm everything to him, and that he doesn't want to lose me ever again."

 

Clark shifted, and looked at him as he spoke… read the emotions playing in his face, and in his eyes. "Do you believe him?"

 

"I do," Dick answered instantly, truthfully.  "I thought at first that yeah, he was just saying these things to get me back, but once he had me, he didn't stop saying them, you know?"  He picked up his empty glass.  "He hasn't stopped making me feel loved, special, sheltered.  He's shared things with me--like his history with Lex--that I never knew about him before."

 

"He loves you." Clark nodded, and felt it in his heart. "He loves you, very, very much. He seems like such a nice man... when I saw him downstairs, I just felt in my heart he was a kind, loving person. You’re lucky to have a man like that by your side, Dick. Some people are never that lucky."

 

"He is.  He's all of those things."  Dick drew his feet up so that they rested on the edge of the chair, and his knees tucked back against his chest.  "Lex is too, you know.  Despite all the Luthor bullshit he tries to hide behind, he's a great man in his own right."

 

"I know it." And oh, he smiled as he looked down. "I know it. He tries so hard to be badass… and he just isn’t. He's gooey in the middle."

 

"Yeah, I've noticed.  Bruce has a dose of the goo himself, though you'd never get him to admit it."

 

"I think sometimes we're the ones who make them gooey." And his eyes flickered up, smiling. He could hear everything in the room so well… the snapping of the fire, the creaks of the house... Ms. Bird singing in the kitchen. Humming softly under her breath, and he listened to her a moment, thinking nothing of it as he spoke. "I think Bruce was looking for you when I came up here."

 

"Yeah?"  Dick couldn't keep the hopeful tone out of his voice. "Think so?  I was kind of looking for him too, then I saw you and Pete and Shayla... got sidetracked."

 

"Yeah...some stuff happened with this love letter everyone got mixed up with, but he should be..." He glanced up. "He's right down the hall." Another smile, and he rose. "I hope I helped some, Dick."'

 

"Yeah... you did."  He got to his feet beside Clark.  "You helped a lot.  Thank you."  He held out his hand again.  "If I can ever return the favor... just let me know."

 

Clark wasn’t a hand shaker. He was a hugger, by nature, and he hugged Dick tightly before turning to the door. "Let me know if there’s anything I can do, too." A small wave, and he opened the door just as Bruce was reaching for the knob. He blushed softly, smiled, and bid the older man a good night, before scooting down the hall.

 

Both brows rose... but Bruce let him pass, and peered after him for a moment. Intriguing young man. Then back to his OWN intriguing young man, and he had a tray of warm milk and cookies in hand. "What was that about?"

 

Dick smiled at Bruce, at the tray of milk and of chocolate chip cookies, his favorite.  Dick carefully set the tray on the table beside the bed, reached up, and kissed Bruce deeply.  "Just Clark, reminding me of how much I love you."

 

His heart melted, and he was man enough to admit it. He slipped his arms around his lovers back and waist, holding him close as they kissed. Tongues met, lips and taste, and he sighed, very softly, holding his lovely treasure close. "I love you, too."

 

Dick let the warmth of Bruce's body suffuse him, relax him, hold him tightly, and then he nipped Bruce's jaw sharply.  "Will you... come to bed with me, Bruce?"

 

Oh. A slim jolt of something tinged with electricity slipped down his spine at the smooth, lovely little teeth at his jawline... the warm, hard body slipping ever closer to his, and Bruce saw stars as he shut his eyes tightly. "Never have to ask that."

 

"I--I'm sorry I had to wait so long, but... I need you, Bruce."  He nipped again, then kissed the bitten skin, soothing it gently.  "Please?"  His hands rested lightly on Bruce's stomach, feeling and catching the thin layer of shirt fabric between them.

 

"Had to, my handsome man.." He murmured it, voice rumbling in his chest as he leaned down and pressed warm, soft butterfly kisses to that long expanse of throat that fit so perfectly against his face. He licked… softly, his favorite spot, and nibbled at the warm flesh gently. "Anything for you... anything you want."

 

"I just want you, Bruce." 

 

He was already filling… every fantasy and dream he'd had of holding his lover, just like this, slipping to the forefront of his mind like water around the barrier he'd set in front of them. Images… memories, of his lover arched, screaming above him for orgasm, and the constant erotic tease… keeping him away from orgasm and over him, thrusting and pressing for release. The thousand images of taking his lover in bed... on his desk… the floor.

 

Always taking Dick. And never the other way around.

 

"Can... can I ask you for something?"

 

"You can ask me anything, Bruce."  Dick was already gently pressing himself against Bruce's slowly hardening cock, rubbing and undulating gently as his mouth slid across his beloved's face.

 

"Take me."

 

The murmur was so soft, so quiet, and he shut his eyes. Letting someone in... in every way possible, and after it there would be no turning back. No looking the other way.

 

And he walked into it, with open arms.

 

The memory of it, of a hard cock thrusting inside made him hard as rock in moments, and a heavy, soft moan erupted from his lips. Christ, he never moaned. But it was sweet and gentle, as his fingers slid down the long, gorgeous expanse of his lovers back... ass... thighs. Down, down, and he slid his mouth down along that gorgeous chest, covering his jean covered cock a moment later and sucking. Never done that, never, but oh, God, it was beautiful.

 

Dick's legs trembled and nearly gave way under him as Bruce said that, and then he locked them in place as his lover's mouth slid down his chest.  "You--you want me... inside you?"  Dick's hands rested reverently on Bruce's head, stroking and petting him gently as his tongue licked along the straining denim-covered shaft.  "I--yes, I'd love to, I've wanted to, didn't think you'd ever let me, yes, Bruce, inside you."

 

"I miss it." Was his answering murmur. His mouth continued its wonderful journey… over a warm thigh, up a hip, and up until he had his lovers mouth once more. He drove his tongue into his mouth and kept his lover close to his body… leaning over… over him… over... then onto warm, soft sheets.

 

Where he could worship this beautiful body without trembles, without shakes and pleadings to stop, without pain. Here, he would worship this beautiful person, because he deserved it. All of it. And more.

 

His questing fingertips drew the warm sweater up, as he made his weight known to that long, luscious body, and his palms... oh, God, they ached to feel. Pebbled nipples...strong, sinewy strength in a hard chest. The rise and fall of air. Beautiful. So Beautiful.

 

Dick raised his arms, let the sweater slide over them until his chest was bare, and he sighed softly, a quiet moan escaping him as he brought Bruce's hands to his chest.  "Touch me, Bruce, please."  Dick's hands slipped up over the crisp white shirt his lover wore, and shaking fingers started undoing buttons, revealing firm, strong flesh with each motion.  "M--more, Bruce.  Lay--lay over me.  Like you used to."

 

And he did. He couldn’t deny his lover, not his beautiful, young lover. He lay over him, pressing his strong, soft body into the mattress... and lowered his mouth. His tongue moved, gently, softly, always passionately. Careful, aweing nibbles at his jaw... sucks and kisses down the long expanse of his throat. A pause to lick at the indention of a warm neck before down... down over nibbles that begged for his mouth. So he calmed them, sucking softly at the left... then the right, until they were tight and darkened and beautiful. "Taste the same... Dick... you taste so beautiful...I love you, so much."

 

Hard moan of pleasure as Bruce's weight pressed down against him, and he arched up into it.  "Missed that more than you know," Dick said quietly, whimpering as Bruce licked and sucked his nipples.  His fingertips stroked through Bruce's soft, fluffy hair, let the locks fall through his fingers and closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of cologne that was simply Bruce.  "I love you, Bruce... that never changed, I never stopped."  His hands pushed the now-opened shirt aside and he pushed at Bruce's chest.  "Let me... let me touch you, Bruce.  Lay down... let me."

 

"No… not done… never did this p-properly." He whispered. His mouth continued on its quest.... jeans sliding under Bruce's quick, agile, clever fingers, and in a single movement, he had Dick buried to the root, for the first time since they'd met. Something Lex had taught him he used now... head bobbing quietly, gently, as his fingers slipped under warm thighs to cradle hard, beautifully warm balls. God, how could he have ever said no to this? How could he have avoided this? He'd tasted his lover before, but nothing so potent...so gorgeous.

 

And it was he, now, who moaned.

 

Dick cried out softly, hands knotting in the sheets as he thrust into Bruce's throat.  "N--never--God, Bruce... this... so good!!!"  He shuddered hard, body twisting gently, riding the loving sucks of Bruce's mouth.  "Pl--please, Bruce... m-more?  I--I want you... all of you, baby, please."

 

He'd learned long ago that control when one was experiencing this was nil, and Bruce rode the bucks and thrusts gently, eyes shut tight. He sucked… once... twice... letting his lover get the pleasure of seeing the person you love between your thighs, before sliding off of him and crawling back up that long, lithe body to share the taste. He thrust his tongue into that accepting, gorgeous mouth, kissing him hard and brilliantly, as he rubbed his clothed, hard dick against him. Let him get the pleasure from the silk materiel on his hard, wet erection… let him feel everything.

 

Dick whimpered softly, rubbing against Bruce's body as it slid up his.  Blinding, thoughtless, formless pleasure was exploding behind his eyes as he watched his lover, felt Bruce's mouth against his cock, sucking him deep--single stroke and Dick very nearly lost his mind, teetering on the razor-edge of orgasm until mercifully, Bruce let go of him and slid back up to kiss him.

 

Dick sucked hard at Bruce's tongue, licking, biting, devouring every bit of his own essence out of his lover's mouth.  Pleasure-pain of the hard, rough abrasion of Bruce's silky slacks against his cock, throbbing of the blood pounding into his groin, needing just a little more pressure to send him over the edge but he couldn't--wouldn't--take it.  He denied himself the orgasm, instead glorying and loving the feel of Bruce's body stretched over his, weight pressing him down into the mattress, cock straining hungrily towards his lover.

 

 If his lover was a drug, Bruce decided, in that instant, that he'd drown in it gloriously, and not think twice of it. This boy… this man, had infiltrated his thoughts, his mind, his heart, and tonight...his body. But he was a lover, and by the honor he took in the title, he would pleasure his beloved with everything inside of him.

 

Strong, slim fingers soothed flushed, rosy cheeks and bitten, kiss-swollen lips. Strong shoulders... naked and creamy in the single light of the fire. Hard press against his own erection, soothing, stroking, thrusting against him in an effort to make him... give him the pleasure Bruce felt every time he was near.

 

He kissed, so gently, along that angular jaw, sucking kisses from it as he moved like water over his beloved. Strong pulses, warm and hot... orgasm.

 

No. Not yet.

 

He sat up, changing the angle of pressure. Each thigh went around sturdy, strong hips, and as he pressed his wide palms into Dick's chest and belly… he thrust. Easily, warm, rubbing through clothing, giving pleasure through their want. And he threw his head back, and moaned.

 

Dick's teeth fastened onto Bruce's exposed throat, biting and sucking as hard as he could.  "Br--Bruce... uh... God... this... yes."  He lifted up into each thrust, rubbing his thighs and using them to squeeze Bruce's waist tightly.  "You're going... make me come... God, Bruce, please... need it, need you, so bad."

 

He was burning inside.  A hot, yearning fire burned in his loins, in his lungs, chest, arms, belly, groin and he strained against his lover, seeking his touch, his arms... him.

 

 A few more seconds of glorious torture was all Bruce could stand. Wayne's, as a rule, didn’t whimper. ...Even if it sounded like it. He slid off Dick's hips, pants and underwear wet from his own precome, and rolled over onto his back beside his lover. He began to tug at his merciless slacks, hands shaking as lust and fear turned him into a fourteen year old boy again. Christ. Too long, too long, and he wanted this to be right.

 

His damned, blasted zipper finally gave and slid down, and he began to squirm and wriggle out of them as his mouth sought his lovers once more. "Y... yes... oh, G..."

 

Dick rolled over his lover, hands seeking, mouth licking, biting, sucking anything that came within the reach of his mouth.  Hot, frantic, needy caresses, sliding down and lifting Bruce's lower body, helping him peel off the wet underwear and the rumpled, untidy slacks. 

 

Dick flung them heedlessly into the corner until Bruce was just as naked as he was, and he pressed himself down the full length of his lover's body.  "I'm here, Bruce... me now, I'm going to touch you now."  His teeth bit hard at Bruce's wet nipples, sucking them until they were red, hard, and aching.  He licked down Bruce's chest, bit his bellybutton, jacked his leaking cock and thrust himself against Bruce's thigh.

 

He gasped, hard, arching up with the sucks to his chest… the hard hand against his cock. Oh, yes, oh yes. So long, so long, that first night had been nothing but soothing and tears, but this... this was pleasure for the both of them. He yearned for his lovers mouth and now, here, it was given to him freely and he almost couldn’t stand the pleasure and joy in his heart.

 

It came out a strangled moan, as his fingers found that lose, lovely chestnut hair between his legs and squirmed his fingers through it. Oh, yes. "Yes, oh, God, yes, pl… please, yes," He couldn’t take this hard, gorgeous feeling, trembling as his fingers found his own nipples and stroked, tweaked, before down to wrap around his lovers fist about his cock. He stroked with him, twining the fingers, even as old feelings and wants started to make him crave. Physical ache, beautiful in his belly, wound up his throat to spill from his lips. "Inside me."

 

"Soon, love, soon," Dick promised, panting gently as he lifted Bruce's hips.  "Let me taste you here, please, I know how much you like this, please, let me, and then I'll be inside you, so deep inside you, Bruce... please, let me?"  He ran his fingertips soothingly over his lover's thighs, waiting for permission.

 

"Pl… yes... please, oh God, baby, please," He managed it quietly, fingers arching and fisting into the sheets and blankets around them. He'd been planning on a quiet evening in their bedroom, watching TV and him doing a bit of work... then curling up and sleeping, as they'd done yesterday. But this… this. His body and blood sang, his heart slammed against his working throat, and he felt a hot, licking fire he hadn’t felt since he was a boy.

 

It felt indescribably, immeasurably, good.

 

Dick didn't say anything else, instead licking his lips first, and then pulling Bruce's legs over his shoulders as he buried his tongue between his lover's cheeks.

 

Fast, hard flicks of his tongue over Bruce's opening, then strong fingers parted Bruce's cheeks for him as he thrust his tongue as far into the little opening as he could.  In and out he slicked the small hole, blowing trembling breaths over it, nipping it lightly with his teeth, fucking it hard with his tongue as he pushed in deep before sliding back out again.  His back arched against Bruce's legs, hair tickling his lover's balls as he kept licking and delving deeply.

 

His cock ached to be inside his lover, but his heart ached for this, to hear Bruce moaning softly above him, offering everything to him and accepting it in turn.

 

"Ohhh God, GOD!"

 

So, he cried it. He couldn’t help it. Not... not when Dick did this to him. Oh, God. He was losing it, bad, shuddering, shaking, trying to stay elegant and poised about this.... but Dick had a way of turning him to a trembling, shuddering pile of equally elegant and poised goo, with that talented tongue. He arched, legs locking around strong, wiry shoulders, and pushed a pillow over his face, fisting his fingers in it hard, as he cried out again. Or, rather, screamed. Yes, yes, yes, Oh GOD!

 

Dick grinned to himself, tightening his grip on Bruce's thighs as he slowly, slowly released his lover's slick, wet opening.  "I love you, Bruce, I love you, ssh... oh, God, I love to hear you scream."  He pressed himself full length against his lover, reaching for the bag under the bed, spilling out the contents and returning with a bottle of lube.  He slicked his cock with trembling hands, and then moved lubed fingers to his lover's opening.  "You--are you sure, Bruce?"  He didn't push in, just rubbed over it until he heard his lover's response.

 

"Sure, sure, G... God, in, pl... Dick…" He was shaking, trembling, sweat dewing his skin and sheening his forehead. His hair was matted to each temple, eyes fogged and distant with pleasure, but as soon as those questing fingers reached back and under him to rub against that delightful little place his lover had just been licking, his hands clamped on tight biceps. His breath hitched, twice... and he forced himself to relax, breathing softly. "Been a-a while. Long w...while. Seven years." His throat worked, Adams apple bobbing. "If... just go slow. Okay?"

 

Dick nodded, pressing his cheek against Bruce's stomach.  "I'll be slow, I'll be careful, I won't hurt you, love, I swear it, I won't hurt you ever again."  He pressed his finger forward, just hard enough to slide the tip in, up through the first knuckle. He thrust lightly, gently, rubbing his cheek against his lover, kissing the taut skin and nosing his cock.  "Tell me if I hurt you."

 

He gritted his teeth then; Christ, yes.  Hot, tight, almost virgin, and Dick reached underneath himself, twisting his balls savagely to keep himself from coming.  The severity caused his erection to wilt just a little, but that was all for the best; he could think again, take his beloved with the care, the love, the specialness that he deserved instead of a hot, hard, animalistic fucking.

 

Inside.

 

A thousand memories sprung to his mind. Spreading his thighs at Excelsior... hard, hot, gorgeous sex that had made him half blind with pleasure. Then Lex... and there was no one but Lex, for years. Then he'd left, left Lex to go make his fortune, and until the night he stroked into Dick's trembling, virgin sheath and held him close, he didn’t make love with anyone.

 

Seven long years wasted when he could have been having this.

 

A low, deep rumble in his chest accompanied the sliding digit, and he arched his hips, working it in deeper. More. Further. Oh, yes. He bowed and thrust against that single digit, throwing his head back into the soft pillows. Christ, please, yes, hurry. No more waiting. No more wondering if he would open himself too much to this beautiful, wide eyed boy who had come along and changed his life.

 

He had the strength now, and god knew he didn’t want to be alone anymore. No more. Never again. "D...I love you, I love you, so much."

 

Dick pressed his face to Bruce's stomach as he slid his finger the rest of the way into his lover.  "B--Bruce," he whispered softly.  "So eager... God, so hot and hard... never thought you'd let me have you this way... do I... do I feel this hot and tight for you?"  He licked Bruce's stomach, bit his thigh and licked the bite mark, then slipped a second finger in along with the first.

 

Slow, gentle strokes, and Dick could swear he felt Bruce's body giving under him.  Could feel the welcoming stretch, whimpering and choking as he banished the memory of his last lover from his thoughts and trembled as he prepared his lover.  "J--Jesus, Bruce."

 

"L… like a fist… hot... trapping me inside," He moaned, hips rhythmically rocking, meeting the fingers stretching him open so he could fit inside. He relaxed, as much as he could, even as his cock burned with want and his heart was like a rabbit, pounding in his chest. "Always, always feel so good, so beautiful, so gorgeous." Blind, blind with want, babbling babbling for the love of God. He'd never babbled a day in his life, but here he was, under the person he wanted to spend his life with, long fingers inside of him and babbles erupting from his lips. "Want you, love you, want to feel… feel you pounding inside, oh G.."

 

Quiet, happy sobs as Dick's fingers slipped easily in and out of his lover, and he added a third.  "You have me, Bruce, always will have me, have all of me, anytime you want me."  He shuddered, moving up against his lover, kneeling between Bruce's thighs, cock in hand.  "L--look at me.  I want--want to see your eyes when I slide inside you, pl--please, let me see you."

 

Bruce’s dark, deep blue eyes flickered open, and in them were storms of pleasure. His muscles flexed as he rose his hips, rubbed want, and his fingers slid around those gorgeous shoulders of his beloved. He could barely breath, panting hard, and as he arched in offering, he claimed his lovers mouth as his own.

 

And didn’t look away from his eyes once.

 

Dick crushed his mouth and his tongue against Bruce's, kissing deeply and hard, eyes locked on Bruce's deep pools as he steadied his cock and slowly, carefully, pressed forward, breaching the tight passage.  The head of his cock slipped easily into the stretched opening but he didn't move further, watching Bruce's eyes for reaction before he thrust forward. 

 

Oh, mother of God. Good, so good, bare of rubber, just the smooth, scorching skin of the tip inside him. Inside of him. He whimpered, quite loudly, face flushing in both need and embarrassment at the sound, and Christ, he was acting like a fucking virgin.

 

He was, in a way. He really, really was.

 

His hips pushed, bucked and stroked down, taking his lover in another inch... and he moaned, softly. Oh, dear Jesus, that feeling. Starting to become full, to be breeched, to be slid inside and a PART of something, and it made him moan in barely restrained pleasure and need. "D... Dick… oh, f... fuck... Dick... baby, yesss," Hissed, quietly, arms linked around that gorgeous chest, body close, legs sliding up further to open himself up wider and accept him in.

 

Dick's hands braced on Bruce's hips, and he barely restrained himself from slamming into his lover.  The whimper, the moans, the quiet hiss of his name, and the rough words from his lover, words he'd never heard Bruce say before... Dick keened deeply in his throat as he slid further into his lover, feeling Bruce open beneath him, allowing him deep until he was completely buried.

 

OH.  God.  Bruce's arms were pressing him full length along his body, and he shuddered, unable to control himself.  His hips thrust hard, pulling out and slamming into Bruce, and then he froze.  "B--baby, I'm sorry, didn't want to hurt you, couldn't stop."

 

Dick's first thrust into him was utter, complete, beauty.

 

He'd felt each bump, each vein, each and every bit of him as he stroked out and thrust back in. The head was like a ball of molten fire, hot and scorching as it moved into him...huge. Oh, God, so big, lancing inside of him, and he gasped.

 

Pained pleasure. Familiar pain, that always went with this certain act, and he knew...God, he knew the control his lover was hanging onto by a thread. He hid the cry in Dick's shoulder, gasping...shaking his head and closing his eyes tight. His legs and arms had tightened hard around him… and now they loosened, slowly, and his Adams apple bobbed. "I… I-It's okay, my lover, it's okay, f... felt so good, good, oh... j… just slow, okay? Slow, been so long..." He managed to mutter into his warm, creamy skin, forcing his internal muscles to let go of his lover and calm. "I love… love you, I love you, so much."

 

"Slow... I love you, Bruce, I love you more than anything in this world."  He slid his hands up Bruce's stomach, over his shoulders, down his arms and laced their fingers together.  "He--help me.  Help me move slow... don't know... don't know if I can, holding on so tight."  He moved again, achingly slow, and his balls throbbed.  It wasn't the pace his body wanted, but it was the pace his lover needed, and he'd be damned to hell if he'd satisfy himself over Bruce.

 

"I know… I know… can let go soon... l-let me get... get used to... oh, God... to you, okay?" It was hard to move, hard to raise his hips with that lance of fire inside of him, but he showed his lover what he needed. Slow now, slow and easy... warm, lovely thrusts that he felt all the way in his brain. His heart jarred with them, he was sure.

 

He rose and fell, easy and sweet, helping his lover counteract the movements. Opening up now... getting used to his size, and his hard, weeping cock gasped and screamed in ecstasy… when Dick hit his prostate.

 

And Bruce, ever so calmly, lost his mind.

 

He arched, letting out a hoarse, loud cry, and thrashed under him. Oh, Jesus Christ YES. Now he remembered why he liked this so much, now he could call himself a true idiot for denying himself this pleasure with his lover. Now, oh, God, now he wanted hard. "Oh, GOD!"

 

Dick shuddered as Bruce screamed, and slammed into the thrashing body underneath it.  Hands on Bruce's hips, nails digging into the skin as he pushed deeply, the change in Bruce's demeanor was enough.  He knew what his lover wanted; finally they wanted the same thing.  Tight, hard clasp around his cock as he withdrew, then slammed the slick length back in, each time twisting slightly and ramming against his prostate.  He could feel the gland rubbing against his cock with each stroke, and he let go long enough to lick his hand, and then wrap it around Bruce's cock as he started to jerk it. 

 

Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, FUCK. He was thrashing, meeting him for each solid thrust, chest rising and falling for panted breaths. A reach forward and he had his lover about the neck...tugging him down, hard, so their mouths could meet. Hard, hot melting of lips and tongues and souls and Bruce cried out mid-kiss, hard, as Dick's fingers went around his cock.

 

And that, as they say, was it.

 

He twisted his hips, hard, ramming the erection further inside, and he came. A thousand sparks of electricity and heat ate him alive from the inside out as he orgasmed… pumped into that lovely fist, as his lover... his sweet, beautiful lover, made love to him for the first time.

 

Dick's tongue thrust and devoured inside Bruce's mouth, possessing in hungry nips and kisses as his lover's mouth offered to him. 

 

The tight, hot clench around his cock, and Dick screamed into Bruce's mouth.  Screamed in agonized ecstasy as his legs locked, his back arched, and his cock shot harder than he'd ever felt before.  Throb after throb milked out of him by Bruce's twisting sheath, and Dick could not hang on against the onslaught.  Whatever thread of control he was hanging to was ripped from his grasp by Bruce's orgasm--at his hands.

 

His hips rolled as his seed emptied into his lover, and his arms wavered, threatening to collapse him on top of his spent lover.

 

Bruce looked up… eyes fogged, vision unfocused, sweat sliding down his face. His cheeks were a soft, flushed shade of pink, lips swollen from hungry, devouring kisses. His dark hair was sticking up in a thousand directions, shocked from his head and pillow tussled. And as his eyes looked up... as they focused, he saw his lovers face. Watched the pleasure roll across that beautiful young face... got to see him orgasm, feel his seed roll through his belly like molten fire. Oh, Christ.

 

He moaned, again, hard, and reached to press a hand to his belly. Oh… oh... oh, my God.

 

"Dick... I love you."

 

Dick's clean hand threaded through Bruce's hair, gently arched his throat back, sucked it hard, biting and leaving a mark easily covered by a shirt collar.  He'd never dared to mark Bruce before, but did now, just because he wanted to.  "I love you, Bruce... always."  His fingertips rubbed over the raw suction bite he'd just pressed to Bruce's throat.  "I--thank you.  So much."

 

Oh, God. Bruce accepted the weight of his lover easily, tugging him down onto his used, spent body, and he let his own legs slide down from the tight link around Dick's back.

 

And then he had to go and suck a mark on his neck, and he gasped… arched his throat and squirmed. Oh. Oh, my God. His skin was still so sensitive from orgasm, and the suck had been like one to his cock head, and he groaned, hard. "W... welcome." But he was already squirming his hips again, begging without words for another sucked mark, his eyes shut tight as he threaded his fingers through all that hair and tugged him down again.

 

Dick wasn't a fool.  He wasn't going to turn down an invitation like that.  His mouth moved down Bruce's throat, scoring his teeth over it, and sucked right over his Adam's apple.  His teeth bit down on the hard swell of flesh there, sucking hard on it and over it as he bit, forming another raw mark there that would bruise purple and then slowly fade.  Pleased and satisfied with his work, Dick moved to the other, flawless side of Bruce's neck and started there, sucking hard at the delicate arch of his throat, seeking out the perfect place for his mark.

 

Found, right at the collar bone, and sucked.

 

"Oh, God, yeesss.." A low, guttural hiss, and yes, he had to be having a flashback back to his youth, because he found himself already refilling… already aching again, already wanting, and he trembled, fingers sliding to the back of Dick's head and fisting in his hair. His legs rose again, around his waist, and he moaned, softly, his sheath, which his lover was still buried in, squirming and writhing. "Why... oh... why haven’t you ever? B… before? Oh, God, d... don’t stop… yes..."

 

"Scared to, too scared to, afraid you wouldn't want it."  Dick licked the raw marks gently, sucking on them each in turn, pulling the flesh into his mouth to be run over his tongue.  "Didn't want you ashamed of something I gave you."  He grunted, whimpered, hips working and thrusting gently as Bruce's twitching sheath was slowly massaging his cock back to life."

 

"Never... oh, Dick, baby, never ashamed of anything you give me." He moaned, tightening his muscles hard around the slowly thrusting cock inside of him, and one of his palms slid down Dick's back to his shoulder… his back... holding him tightly as those delicious teeth worked magic on his skin. "Oh, yes. Yes. Oh, mother of God." Sucks, powerful, clever little tongue, and Bruce felt his eyes roll shut. "Everything you give me, I love."

 

Dick's teeth slid down to the small hollow of throat and chest, lapping and nipping there with great relish.  "Will give you more then, always give you more of them."  He sucked hard on Bruce's chest, over his heart, creating a smaller one there.  He rocked forward, his cock slowly moving in and out of Bruce's body.

 

"No." He still Dick's hips with his palms and squirmed, trying to get over with limbs that were like jelly. "Help… help me..." If only USA Today could see him now. Who knew the Bat could be mush?

 

At that he grinned, threading his fingers through his darling lover’s hair as they moved and rolled. "Realized just now... we're mushy people."

 

"Noth--Nothing but big puddles of gooey stuff," Dick agreed, arching into Bruce's touch.  "Help you do what, anything, Bruce, just tell me..."

 

He rolled them over… splayed over his lover for half a moment, before rearing up and sitting on his lovers cock. It slid another inch inside of him, and he sighed as he squirmed against those lovely thighs, hands braced against his belly as he let the soft breath escape between his lips. "Mmmm. Wanted… wanted this." He slowly undulated his hips. "Feels good...." His eyes were closed, long, dark lashes sitting on his cheeks. "Feels so good."

 

Dick's hands went to Bruce's hips, eyes wide as he trembled.  "Ride me?  Wanted--wanted to ride me, Bruce?  Just... fuck, yes."  He grinned up, his hands sliding up to tweak Bruce's still-hard nipples, tugging them gently between rough fingers.

 

His knees rested against each side of his lover, and he couldn’t help it... he liked to see. He glanced down between them, where they were joined... seeing his already hard, filled cock, and the soft, curly pubic hair between Dick's thighs. "Mmmmm." He groaned, squeezing tight inside with the shock of visual pleasure. And his hazing, deep eyes glanced to his lovers smile, and he couldn’t help the answering grin. "Wanted to, for a long time. Didn’t know… how to… oh... ask." A solid nod, and he cleared his throat. "You are never to speak of my whimpering, are we clear?" But in his eyes were amusement, as he slowly rocked back, and forth.

 

"How about..." Dick cleared his throat, imitating Bruce's voice.  "Dick... get on your back.  Now.  I'm going to ride your cock until you scream."  Saucy grin, coupled with a pinch of his nipples.  "See?  No asking."  Another pinch and gentle tug to hard nipples.  "I promise, I won't tell anyone Bruce Wayne whimpers."

 

Oh, he snickered, the sound half moan and half laugh, as he slowly braced himself and began to gently rise and fall as he rocked. "Thought you might bust my ass for being a jerk." He answered truthfully, eyes dancing as they met his. "Seems… you're still busting my ass." His head fell back, exposing his throat and the marks Dick had just made on it. "Oh, God." He swallowed, Adams apple bobbing, as he spoke, staring half at the ceiling and half at the wall. "Or screams... or... oh, fuck… m-moans.."

 

"Or begs," Dick added breathlessly, rocking up and meeting every fall of Bruce's body with a gentle thrust of his own.  "Wouldn't--wouldn't bust your ass... for that... might for... oh, fuck... something else though... oh, Jesus, you're so hot... Bruce..." 

 

"You know..." A low, vibrating murmur. "I don’t… don’t know why I never..." He groaned, sharply, when Dick hit his prostate, and he threw his head back, arching his back and dragging his fingers through his own hair, crying out in ecstasy. "Thought of t-this before." Amidst his ache, and his now rapidly rising and falling body, he gave his lover a scorching, wicked grin that lit his face up and put a gorgeous spark in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

 

"We just might have to do this everyday."

 

~*~*~

 

Clark sighed. Deeply. There was nothing like helping someone that made him the happiest guy on earth. Sure, there was love, and sex, and smoochies and kittens and puppies and cookies and Christmas. But helping people, getting down to the nitty gritty and really helping, made Clark very, very happy.

 

Hmm. Maybe he'd do his essay on it. Something to think about.

 

He closed the door with a click behind him, and started back down the hall, a little smile covering his lips as he tugged the waist band of his grubby jeans, pulling them up a little as he walked.

 

Shayla was hauling ass through the passageways.  She was trying to catch up to Clark, and she ended up exploding out of the panel in front of him, barely missing him by centimeters as she landed on her ass and tried to backpedal.  "Clark!"

 

He'd seen something explode, out of the corner of his eye, and barely stepped out of the way before hurtling blond came at him. He blinked… helped her up... blinked again, peering at her as he tried to calm her down. "Shayla... Shayla, breathe, are you alright?"

 

And it occurred to him that a few months ago he'd seen some truly disgusting bugs crawling around in these passageways, and he shook her, making sure she was alright.

 

Deep breaths.  "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay.  I just want to talk to you, that's all.  Wanted to make sure I caught up with you."

 

Another blink. "By nearly breaking your ass?" A wide smile spread across his face. "You don’t know what that does to my ego."

 

"Hey, I just took a short cut, I just didn't know you were going to be in the way of my exit door."  She grinned as she dusted said ass off, balancing herself on his arm as she did so.  "I want to talk to you about Pete--he'll probably kick my ass for interfering, but hey, it's Pete.  He can.  I know you wanted to talk to him earlier, but... he wasn't in the mood to talk to anybody."

 

Clark’s expression darkened a little at that, and he sighed. "Dick told me what happened. Christ, Shayla, I feel so bad... I haven’t talked to him in..." Oh, the thought made him blush. "Almost two months. Please don’t think I’m a bad friend."

 

Shayla shrugged.  "On the one hand?  I want to kick you in the balls.  On the other?  I've seen you with AJ, and I can totally understand why you'd be dead to the rest of the world.  I know I've been that way with Pete, so... okay, your balls are safe with me."  Then her expression darkened, and turned very, very ugly.  "You talked to that... that... dickhead?"  Okay, so yeah.  She knew.  But hey, no reason to let Clark know she was an eavesdropper.  Yet.

 

He smiled a little at that, and continued to walk down the hall with her, having no clue as to where he was going. Lex's house... it did that to people. "I’m glad my balls are going to have an unlimited shelf life, thank you." And yeah, he caught her look, and he cringed and rubbed his bicep a little. "Yes. I talked to Dick. I wanted to hear his side of the story before I did something rash like, oh, I dunno, bash his nose in." A solid nod. "Its just... I understand now, and I bleed for Pete, but it... it had to happen, Shayla. ...Especially now that you're in Pete's life."

 

Shayla planted herself in front of Clark.  "It did not have to happen, Clark Kent.  If Bruce Wayne had just butted the fuck out like Dick told him to, then we wouldn't have this situation on our hands!  Dick wouldn't have dumped Pete, Pete wouldn't be hurting, angry, bitter and resentful, and I--I wouldn't be so pissed off at everybody!"

 

"Shayla..." He shook his head. She was still way, way too new at the game of love to understand, but he smiled at her a little anyway, and gently took one of her fisted hands, soothing it open in his. He set it in the crook of his elbow, and walked with her again. "Shayla, it would be... as if... well, look at it this way. It would be as if Lex and I had a falling out... I left, made another life somewhere else, as young as I am. He came looking for me, begging for me to come back to him, even if I was with someone new. Its... sweetheart, the love Dick and Bruce have is the real deal." And he said the next part, gently. "Who are you to get in the middle of that?  Who am I to get in the middle of it? Or Lex, or Mr. Senatori, or even Pete. You know?"

 

"I'm Shayla Marie Senatori, that's who I am.  I'm Pete's friend, I care a lot about him, and I'm looking out for his interests, since he won't do it himself!"  She growled.  "You wouldn't be stupid enough to leave Lex in the first place.  And even if you did you wouldn't be stupid enough to get involved with someone else on the rebound, because you're just way too fucking considerate!"

 

"Shayla." He said it softly, but firmly. "I know you adore Pete, and I know you only want him to be happy. But this... this is what was supposed to happen. Pete was supposed to love Dick, and he was supposed to find you when Dick left him. And Dick was supposed to find Pete, realize he was still capable of loving, and be healed for when Bruce came back for him." A soft sigh. "Shayla, I’ve got a whole tadpole story, kay? I'll tell you about it sometime."

 

"Eww, I'll skip it, I hate tadpoles.  Fucking creepy little bastards."  She shuddered.  "I do just want Pete to be happy, and he's not.  Not really, not despite everything that I'm doing to try and make him happy.  I just... I want him to either have Dick Grayson or fucking forget about him, and I can't make either thing happen without help.  So... wanna kidnap Bruce Wayne for me?"  She was only half kidding.

 

"Its only been a few days, Shayla. He's not supposed to jump and get over him in a week." He frowned. Shayla had him by a year, age wise, but she still had so much growing up to do. Not that he'd ever voice it, but he looked at her gently.

 

"I know that, dork."  She glared at him.  "But dammit... he can't even hear the dickhead's voice without breaking into tears, and it fucking kills me, Clark!"

 

He shrugged one of his enormous shoulders softly. "Shayla, its going to take time. A lot of it. I... I want to talk to him, if he'll let me. I need to see him."

 

She shook her head.  "Can't do that, Clark.  He said he's not ready to talk to anybody right now... hell, he kicked me out of the bedroom, what does that tell you?"

 

A heavy, soft sigh. "Alright, sweetheart. Let him know that... if he wants to talk, he can find me on the other side of the mansion, okay? I think... I’m going to corner my boyfriend and give him smoochies, so if he hears moaning, tell him to knock first." A little smile, and he bent nearly half over to give her cheek a kiss.

 

"Okay, no!  Wait!"  Shayla jumped up and caught him around the neck to keep him from going.  "Okay.  So, I probably shouldn't tell you this but Ms. Bird taught me how to lurk in doorways and I heard stuff that I want to ask you about, and you gotta be straight with me, okay?"

 

He blinked. A Shayla hanging from his neck was never good, and he was half tempted to throw her over his shoulder and toss her back into her bedroom… but refrained. Though the mental image gave him a grin.

 

That is, until he heard her words, and he glowered at her. "That was private, Shayla Marie Senatori."

 

"Yeah, I know it was, which is why I'm not blabbing it from the rooftops, okay?"  She glared.  "You think I'm going let anybody talk about my Pete and not know what's being said?  I don't fucking think so."

 

My Pete. Hmmm. "I don’t care. You should trust me not to hurt my own friend. That was a very bad judgment call on your part, and you should be ashamed." He was still glaring.

 

"It wasn't you I was worried about, Clark."

 

"I don’t care." Mutter.

 

"Well, you can either answer me or tell me to fuck off, in which case I'll go ask Dickhead my questions, only I'll be wearing steel-toed boots when I do."

 

He sighed, softly, and set her back on the floor. There was a nice, antique bench sitting next to an enormous pot of flowers, and he settled onto it... eyelevel now with the lovely girl. He crossed his arms, making himself less of an imposing threat, and blinked. "Alright, ask away."

 

"Did you know that Dick was rubbing Pete's nose in the fact that he and Bruce were having sex?" she asked him, point-blank.  "Cause when they talked in the library, Pete told me that was like the first thing Dick told him."

 

"He hurt, Shayla." Softly. "It's called a defense mechanism."

 

"So that gives him an excuse to hurt Pete?"  She crossed her arms over her chest and glared.

 

"You know, Shayla," His voice had deepened a little, with anger he felt in his blood for his friend… both of them. "Let me give you some advice, that might make you hate me. Take it for what its worth. Butt out. You haven’t given Dick a chance to explain himself--you just immediately turn on him, because the man he's loved for half a decade came back for him. Yes, I hurt for Pete, deeply so. He's the best friend I’ve ever had. But at the same time, I hurt, very deeply, for Dick. It’s an unfortunate way of events, but it was the way they were supposed to happen. You need to open your eyes and look into Dick's eyes. He was crying, Shayla. How can you stomp on a guy so hard, when he hurts so much?  Yes, Pete is hurt, yes, he's bleeding. But god, damnit, girl, open your eyes."

 

"You wanna talk about lookin' into somebody's eyes, Clark?  You should take a look into Pete's sometime.  I don't give a flying ratfuck for Dick goddamned Grayson.  You know why?  Everybody's takin' his side.  He's got Bruce, he's got Lex, now he's got you.  And you know what?  Pete's got nobody.  Nobody but me.  Nobody even fucking knew he was here until he showed his face in the kitchen for food earlier, not even you!"  She poked him in the shoulder.  "You oughta look into Pete's eyes, and see just how devastated he is.  This ain't the same happy guy that helped me pick out vibrators the other day.  No.  I ain't never seen a human being look that sad before, like there's nothing in his life to pick up and go on for."  Shayla's back was up.  "I don't hurt for Dick at all, because he's a selfish bastard."

 

He grabbed her arm, spun her, and got this close to her, noses almost touching. His mind was firing off words that he knew weren’t English, and he strangled his temper, leashing it back in. "I never said that. No one has me, I'm not taking sides, and neither is Lex. Pete has me, and he has you, and he has his parents and Chloe. Nothing has changed. We all have lives that are separate, but we will always be friends, and he can come to us whenever he needs it." Temper warred with rage and guilt and pain. "Pete has been my friend since kindergarten, Shayla, don’t propose to think you know everything about him. Understood? Don’t treat me like I’m some big bad asshole who's trying to stomp all over him. I’m not. I am, however, asking you to look at both sides before you pass judgment on people!  No, he's not happy. A relationship just ended for him, a good one, and I feel for him, on a level you could never understand. But he will get better, and you, you just need to...friggin STOP."

 

Shayla growled as she was nose to nose with Clark.  "I... am not going to stop until Pete stops hurting.  Get used to it.  And I don't think I know everything about him, but I know a lot.  A surprising amount, for having only known him a little while.  I know why, for example, he can't stand Lex.  I know why, for example, he thinks that he's not worth anything.  I know why, for example, he wants to be furious with you, and Whitney, and Chloe, and he just can't be."  She stepped closer and her nose actually touched Clark's.  "I know enough about Pete to know that I want to protect him, that I will protect him, and anyone that doesn't like it can kiss my skinny blonde ass."

 

He was so angry, and so hurt, and so filled with guilt, that all he did was bodily pick her up, set her back a foot, get up, and leave. He walked down the hall, shaking with anger at how close minded she was, how unable to see past her own nose, and he stomped down the steps, finally, after X-Raying and finding the staircase.

 

"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!"  Shayla spun around, kicked the planter, and howled again in pain as she did nothing but hurt her little foot.  Shaking it out, sticking her tongue out at Clark's retreating back, and limping off, Shayla settled on the floor outside her bedroom, head thumping back against the closed door.

 

Clark slammed through the downstairs door... finding himself in the kitchen, amidst the mess of New Year’s dinner in the making. Ms Rosalyn and her boyfriend were sitting at twin stools, nursing what had to be alcohol. "Mrs. Senatori, I love your family, but YOU ARE ALL VERY INFURIATING SOMETIMES. Ma'am."

 

And he stomped out of the kitchen.

 

Rosalyn looked at Enrique first, and then Ms. Bird.  "Wonder what crawled up his ass?"

 

 

-fin-

 

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