Pairings/Characters: Bruce/Dick, Alfred
Genres: Challenge, Fluff, Holiday
Summary: Pixie boots and jingle bells make Bruce a happy Bat.
Date Of Completion: December 25, 2008
Date Of Posting: December 25, 2008
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 708
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Merry Christmas to my flist! :)
Written for the 2008 DCU Fic/Art Family Winter Holidays Challenge. Also, this fits the 2008 DCU Free-For-All Winter Holiday Challenge. Prompts: 20. T15; P29: Christmas Tree and 3. Christmas, 16. Family/Home, 21. Stocking and 23. Santa Claus/Sleigh/Reindeer and 24. Candy Canes.
This story is similar in theme to the Steve/Diana tale, Santa's Little Helper, but is unique to Bruce/Dick. :) It’s saucy fluff, inspired by my Holiday Daydreams and by the icon used for this story, created by pervyficgirl.
Bruce walked through the front door, tossing his briefcase on the endtable in the hall just off the foyer. He smiled slightly at the festive decorations of holly and other greenery entwining the balustrade of the grand staircase and the huge wreath on the front door, with more greenery wrapped around the pillars.
Alfred had found a kindred decorating spirit when Dick had come to live with them. Bruce hadn’t cared much about decorations or the holidays for years after his parents had died, and Alfred had still decorated, but there was no joy in it.
Dick had brought joy back into the house.
He shrugged off his pearl-gray coat and hung it up in the closet. He had intended to come home earlier this Christmas Eve, but last-minute things had kept popping up at work. Lucius had finally kicked him out the door with a “Merry Christmas!” ringing in his ears.
Bruce breathed in the scent of the evergreens on the balustrade. He loved the fragrance, one of the things he loved best about the estate. As a child he had played among the trees and loved the quiet of the forest, cool and mysterious.
He could smell fresh gingerbread. Alfred must have baked a fresh batch this afternoon. He turned toward the kitchen but heard a noise down the hall.
Maybe Dick was in the living room. He went to investigate.
A fire was crackling in the hearth, reflecting in the delicate glass ornaments on the giant tree. The evergreen fragrance was strong in this room, Bruce looking with satisfaction at the decorated tree.
Another gift from Dick: before he had come into the Manor, the trees had been professionally decorated every year, again Bruce not caring much.
Now he and Dick went out and cut a prime specimen every year on a tree farm, coming home to the sounds of laughter and the dusting of snow on their clothes. They took down the boxes from the attic, and Alfred knew exactly what was in each box, arranging them in an orderly fashion for the optimum decorating scheme, which he supervised, of course.
Bruce chuckled softly to himself as he saw the stockings hanging over the fireplace: one for each of them.
A jingling sound brought his head around, and his eyes widened.
Dick was standing in the doorway, grinning and wearing his Robin costume, the top laces of his tunic undone, a jaunty Santa hat with a bell on the end on his head, and a red silk bow tied around his right thigh. His yellow cape fluttered out behind him.
“Hello, Santa! Ready for your favorite elf to sit on your lap?”
Bruce’s astonishment turned to a smile as Dick sauntered into the room, moving with the grace that never failed to mesmerize him. Dick’s blue eyes were sparkling, and he did a little dance as he said, “Like the pixie boots?”
Tiny bells jingled, attached to the backs of the boots. Bruce laughed. “Yes, they’re Santa’s favorite elf boots.” His eyes shone. “On Santa’s favorite elf.”
Dick spun quickly around Bruce, then leaned into him, his bow-clad leg sliding up and down Bruce’s Armani-clad thigh.
“Can I go for a ride in your sleigh?” His green-gloved hand rested on Bruce’s chest.
Bruce smirked. “If you’re a good boy.” He slid his hand up Dick’s bare thigh to touch the bow. “May I unwrap my present now, Favorite Elf?”
“Oh, please, Santa baby,” Dick purred, his lips brushing Bruce’s.
Bruce crushed the younger man’s body to his, their lips meeting passionately. When they broke apart, Dick laughed joyously, the bell on his hat jingling madly as he swung his legs up to wrap around Bruce, one of his favorite maneuvers.
“Hmm,” he murmured in Bruce’s ear, “maybe I can slide up and down and dance around the North Pole.”
Bruce’s heart swelled with love for this special young man, whose greatest gift to him was drawing happiness out of him again and again.
Dick was his everything.
“Time to go to Santa’s workshop,” Bruce purred, “and if you’re a really good elf, I’ll let you suck on my candy cane.”
Dick’s laughter echoed through the Manor as Bruce carried him up the evergreen-decorated stairs.
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