Pairings/Characters: Bruce/Dick, Alfred
Genres: BDSM, Challenge, Drama
Challenge Category: Section A (Playful) (Sort Of)
Warnings: Bondage & Discipline
Summary: Bruce feels that Dick is getting a little too cocky.
Date Of Completion: March 3, 2010
Date Of Posting: April 13, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1221
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written for the 2010 dark_fest Challenge. Prompt: DCU/Batman, Bruce Wayne/Dick Grayson, leading the Titans has made him cocky and now it’s time for Batman to rein Robin in, Dub/non-con, restraint, up to you.
Also written for my 2010 DCU Fic/Art Bondage Challenge. :)
Dick strutted into the Batcave, the bright yellow, red, and green of his costume shimmering like a peacock’s feathers. He’d just completed a highly successful mission as leader of the Teen Titans, one that was being highly praised and analyzed before the dust had settled. Dick was getting the lion’s share of praise, as befit the leader.
Bruce gritted his teeth. The hosannas laid at Dick’s feet didn’t bother him. In fact, he was proud of his young partner’s skill and natural leadership abilities.
What he didn’t like was Dick forgetting his place.
He’d seen the flirting with Roy and Kory and Barbara (maybe he should dye his hair red to get some attention?). He’d seen Dick strut and smile like he was on a damned runway in Milan, for godsakes. Flaunting himself?
Did he forget just whom was in charge here?
Dick could be as pretty as he wanted, flirt as much as he wanted, but he’d just better remember who he belonged to.
“Ready for patrol, Bruce?” Dick was carrying his domino mask, his yellow cape swirling around him like sunshine as he preened.
Bruce was in full costume, his cowl on. His black cape touched Dick’s, a startling contrast to the vivid colors of his younger partner, inky-solemn and providing an outline that made the peacock colors shimmer even brighter. “That’s Batman to you.”
Dick smirked as he put his mask on. “Okay, Batman.”
Batman seethed as Robin brushed past him on his way to the Batmobile.
The patrol seemed endless, at least to Batman. Robin was having a grand time, flashing and dashing and, in Batman’s opinion, taking a few too many risks.
Time to pin back those peacock feathers.
Robin dashed after the muggers they’d caught in the act, pixie boots flying over the pavement, and he brought both down with a brilliant acrobatic move just before one of the thugs tried to blow his head off.
Oh, yes, time to administer some discipline.
All the way back to the Cave, Robin preened and gloated. Batman’s gloved fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove the Batmobile on the country roads outside of Gotham. He said nothing, but that wasn’t unusual. Neither was Robin’s chatter, but of course this was talk of a different sort, heaping praise on himself for his brilliant moves. Really, where was his modesty?
Batman drove into the Batcave, cutting the engine as Robin hopped out, barely waiting for the sleek machine to glide to a stop. Yellow cape fluttering, Robin looked ready to cartwheel to the showers.
“I am hittin’ on all cylinders! Did you see the way that I faked out the muggers? Did you…?”
Robin’s bright chatter was abruptly cut off as a silken cord weighted by a batarang looped around his arms, tightening painfully.
“Hey!” Robin was nearly pulled off his feet as he tugged and Batman yanked, the rope firm. “What the hell, Bruce?”
“You’re pretty cocky, aren’t you, Robin?” Batman hissed in his protégé’s ear.
Robin struggled, the rage pouring off him in waves. “Let me go!”
Batman walked around to face him. “I don’t think so.”
With herculean effort, Batman dragged Robin to a special padded wall and shoved him up against it. Before Robin could react, he was spread-eagled and chained to the wall.
“Release me, Bruce!”
“It’s Batman. And you need time to think.”
“Think? What are you talking about?”
“You’re being a little too cocky.” Batman pressed close to his younger partner. “You need time to think about your proper place.”
Robin yanked against the restraints. “And what proper place would that be?”
“With me,” Batman growled. He pressed his lips to Robin’s, but the other man kept his lips firmly shut. Batman withdrew. “Looks like you need some time to cool off.”
“You’re just jealous, Batman! I’m a better leader than you are, and I’m making a name for myself apart from you! You can’t stand that, can you?”
“You know where your place is.”
Batman turned away with a swirl of cape.
“Damnit, Bruce, untie me!" Robin raged as he yanked against his bindings, blue eyes sparking with fire. The bats overhead squeaked as Robin’s voice spiraled upward.
Upstairs, Bruce slept until mid-morning, then sat up as Alfred brought breakfast.
“Thank you, Alfred.”
“You’re welcome, sir. And Master Dick?”
“Is being disciplined.”
Alfred raised an eyebrow. He opened the drapes, sunlight sparkling on the sea.
“It’s a beautiful day, sir.” Alfred tied the dark-blue silk drapes back with a heavy cord. “A pity to let storm clouds blot out the sun.” He left as Bruce put down a blueberry muffin, his appetite suddenly less.
The Bat stalked down to the Cave, the silence unnerving him. He could see Robin still in restraints, his body sagging with weariness. His heart clenched.
He quietly approached, then pressed his body up close, whispering brokenly, “Why do you do this to me?” He groaned as Robin moved against him.
“It’s okay, Bruce.”
More guilt washed through Batman…or, more likely, Bruce.
“It’s all right, you’ll be treated like a Prince, I swear.”
Robin fell limply against Batman. Quickly, Batman untied him.
“Come on upstairs.” Bruce pushed his cowl back, nuzzling Dick. “I’m sorry, Dick, but you knew once you got into this with me that you belong to me.”
“Mmm.” Dick looked up, Bruce gently pushing locks of hair of his eyes. Bruce offered no plea for forgiveness, but he lifted Dick into his arms, relaxing when the younger man rested his head on his shoulder.
Dick stretched in the sunken tub, enjoying the warm water on his stiff limbs. He loved the decadence so readily available here at the Manor, or anywhere else that bore the Wayne crest.
A small smile played around his lips, his head resting against the side of the tub.
Poor Bruce. He was practically falling all over himself in trying to soothe ruffled feathers (he chuckled at that). The older man wasn’t sorry that he’d administered discipline, but he was, as always, feeling a little guilty.
Dick submerged a little deeper in the water. It was so easy to get the reactions he wanted. He could have easily gotten out of those restraints. He’d been taught by the Bat, after all.
All his strutting and preening had been carefully calculated with this end in mind. He stretched again, inhaling the fragrance of lemon-scented candles, allowing himself to float languidly.
Bruce needed to assert ownership, and Dick needed to let him.
He rose from the water, candlelight-sheened water sliding down his back and buttocks as he climbed out of the tub. He dried off, using a thick, white, fluffy towel that felt like heaven on his body.
Mmm, he loved sensuous things, and the best was yet to come.
His smile grew brighter. Flinging the towel around his neck, he walked out to the bedroom.
Yes, silk sheets were perfectly perfect.
Dick threw the towel onto the floor and stretched out on the bed, waiting for his guilty lover.
Yep, Bruce needed to assert his ownership, and Dick needed to let him.
On his own terms.