Pairings/Characters: Bruce/Dick, Alfred
Genres: Fluff, Dashes Of Humor, Romance
Summary: Bruce needs and adores Dick, and proceeds to show him just how much.
Date Of Completion: March 26, 2010
Date Of Posting: March 27, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1235
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Happy Birthday, ladybugkay! :) She requested Bruce/Dick and a prompt of: Bruce proving to Dick just how much he needs and adores him, and Dick just soaking it all up.
Dick drove his motorcycle up the long, winding driveway of Wayne Manor. His hair and scarf blew in the wind, the late March day cold and gray. Flowers were just starting to poke their way up through brown-and-green grass, and the ocean was sullen under a cloudy sky. He shivered a little and steered the cycle to the garage, putting it away in its stall, and headed for the kitchen.
As soon as he opened the door, he could smell the wonderful aroma of apple pie baking in the oven. His mouth began watering. Dessert would be special tonight!
“Ah, good afternoon, Master Dick.”
“Hi, Alfred.” Dick unwound his yellow scarf and took off his red jacket. “That pie smells like heaven!”
Dick smiled at the touch of smugness in Alfred’s voice. “Where’s Bruce?”
“In the living room, I do believe.”
Whistling, Dick snatched up a chocolate chip cookie from the Superman cookie jar and made his merry way to the living room, crossing the foyer.
A fire was already crackling in the fireplace, which pleased Dick. He couldn’t see Bruce. Maybe he was in the study or library…
Dick looked over the couch and saw Bruce sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the fire.
“Come sit down.”
Dick came around the couch and coffee table and sat down in his favorite spot. His eyes widened slightly as he saw Bruce dressed in a well-worn pair of jeans and a dark-blue sweatshirt with the red letters that spelled Harvard University. He was comfortable in his own jeans and yellow sweatshirt, but this wasn’t attire that Bruce usually wore.
Bruce was reading a take-out menu. “Hmm, how about a couple of large pizzas? With salad, onion rings, and Coke.”
“Sounds great. What, did Alfred run out of pheasant-under-glass?” Dick teased.
Bruce merely smiled and took out his cellphone. “What’s your pleasure?”
“Umm, I’m in the mood for sausage for one.” Dick thumped his chest. “Manly man pizza.” He grinned. “And could we have chicken-and-broccoli for the other?” He batted his eyelashes hopefully.
Bruce laughed. “I like that. And Alfred wants black olives-and-onions.”
“What about you?”
“Hmm, I could use some manly man pizza, too. Classic pepperoni.”
Dick laughed. “That’s four large pizzas, Bruce.”
“No problem. We can have leftover pizza for a week.”
Dick’s eyes sparkled as he leaned back against the overstuffed chair. Bruce dialed the pizzeria’s number and ordered, Alfred coming in with a stack of paper plates and napkins.
“Will you be joining us on the floor, Alfred?” Dick asked saucily.
Alfred smiled. “I think I will take the couch. We can use the coffee table for the food and drink.”
Dick helped clear off the table, his eyebrow raising. Alfred didn’t usually approve of pizza parties in the living room!
“What’s going on?” he asked as Alfred returned to the kitchen.
“What?” Bruce asked.
“This.” He waved his hand. “Sitting on the floor wearing jeans and a sweatshirt from your alma mater that looks like you first wore it during the Carter Administration, and greasy pizza boxes destined for the coffee table! C’mon, Bruce, body-snatching aliens haven’t taken you two over, have they?”
Bruce laughed. “No.” His expression suddenly grew soft. “I want to give you something as free ‘n’ easy as you are. I want you to know how much I cherish you.”
Dick felt love surge up in his chest and he swallowed, then smiled, Bruce smiling back.
“Thanks, Bruce.” He touched his lover’s arm.
Bruce put his hand over Dick’s, drawing him into a kiss.
“Hmm, looks like a storm is brewing,” Alfred observed as he re-entered the living room.
Bruce and Dick broke apart, but kept their hands clasped. Alfred smiled and sat on the couch.
“Hopefully the pizza guy beats the storm. Ugh to wet pizza boxes,” Dick said.
By the time the pizza delivery man arrived, the wind had picked up and the dark storm clouds were rapidly approaching from the northwest. The sea was choppy, and no boats were in sight.
Bruce and Dick took the pizza boxes from the teenaged boy, who seemed in awe of Bruce Wayne answering the door. Dick winked at the kid and Bruce gave him a generous tip, with an admonition to drive safely as a gust of wind blew stray leaves into the foyer.
A bag held the onion rings, plastic-covered plate of salad, and a big bottle of Coke. Everything was taken into the living room, and Alfred had laid out an old but clean cloth over the coffee table as the pizza boxes were spread out.
Dick soaked up every sensation: the smell of fresh pizza, the smoky taste of sausage and the rich tomato-and-cheese flavor of the pizza; the sweet tangy crispness of the onion rings, the light crunchiness of the salad, and the sugary sweetness of the Coke. He felt the fire warm his skin and loved to hear Bruce laugh and Alfred crack dry jokes in his impeccable British accent. His eyes drank in the beauty of Bruce, who looked happy and relaxed. Gleams of firelight danced in his dark hair as he ate a slice of pepperoni pizza.
Rain drummed on the roof as the storm arrived, flashes of lightning illuminating the room. Dick’s hand brushed against Bruce when they reached for the same slice of chicken-and-broccoli pizza, a pink flush creeping up Bruce’s cheeks. Delighted, he let Bruce have the slice.
“Don’t eat too many slices, Master Dick. Unless you would like to wait and eat my apple pie tomorrow.”
“No way, Alfred! I get a piece tonight!”
Bruce chuckled and said, “He’s a growing boy, Alfred. He could eat a whole pizza by himself.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised, sir.”
Dick was so happy that he felt like he’d combust. Bruce and Alfred exchanged amused glances.
“I don’t think we need a fire in here,” Bruce said.
“What?” Dick asked, confused.
“Looks to me like someone’s providing all the light all by himself.”
Dick grinned, and Bruce put a hand up to protect his eyes while his young lover laughed happily.
He enjoyed the fresh apple pie that Alfred brought in, the cinnamon mingling with sweet tartness of the apples, and the flaky crust melted in his mouth. And all the while he thought of how grateful he was for Bruce and Alfred doing this for him, knowing what he liked and being as casual as possible.
He was blessed.
And when they cleaned up the boxes and plates and cups, and Bruce returned to the living room to get more boxes, Alfred said serenely, “You are exactly what Master Bruce needs,” and Dick blushed but was proud.
After all was cleaned and put away, Alfred retired for the night, and Bruce and Dick returned to their spot before the fireplace as the thunder rumbled and the lightning flashed, and they kissed each other hard, tasting of apples and tomato sauce, strong and devoted and desperately in love.
And Bruce worshipped every inch of his lover’s body, showing with every gentle kiss and caress how much he was cherished, adoration in his eyes, and Dick’s happiness surged through him lustfully as his hips jerked up as Bruce took him, and he was filled with joy and desire and felt loved.
And that was what he needed.