bradygirl_12 (bradygirl_12) wrote,

Fic: Private Dancer (2/3)

Title: Private Dancer (2/3)
Author: BradyGirl
Pairings/Characters: Bruce/Dick
Categories: Romance
Rating (this chapter): R
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Dick dances for Bruce alone.
Summary (this chapter): The pickle did it.
Date Of Completion: July 16, 2007
Date Of Posting: June 17, 2007
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1402
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Note: All chapters can be found here. 






Bruce entered the kitchen, smiling at the domestic picture that Dick presented: slicing the tomatoes, putting them on the beds of lettuce on top of the wheat bread, and then slathering on low-fat mayonnaise with a flourish. 


Everything a performance! Bruce thought fondly.


“Would you like pickles with this?” Dick asked.




Bruce took out plates and napkins and set them on the table.  Dick opened the refrigerator door and bent down to retrieve the jar of pickles from the bottom shelf.  Bruce enjoyed the view.


“Okay, these are ‘Zesty’ flavor.  These okay or would you like the sweet pickles?”


“Zesty are fine.”


Dick took a small pickle fork and took out four pickles, two for each of them.  He arranged them artfully on the plate, put away the jar, and put the plates on the table.  Then he put ice in two tall glasses and poured lemonade.


Bruce sat down and waited for Dick, who put away the bottle of lemonade and brought the two glasses to the table, handing one to Bruce.  He sat down in the chair next to him and laid the napkin on his lap.


“It’s all still fresh.”


“I’m sure it’s fine.” Bruce took a bite of the sandwich. “Excellent.”


Dick laughed. “Well, Alfred’s going to teach me some more of his recipes this weekend.” Dick was proud of his improving cooking skills. “Don’t worry, Bruce, if Alfred is away with Leslie some weekend, you won’t starve as long as I’m around.”


Bruce felt a tightness in his chest for a brief moment.  The casual way that Dick assumed he’d be around was something that Bruce wanted very, very much.


He smiled. “That relieves my mind.”


Dick laughed again. “Mmm, y’know, this sandwich is pretty good.  The tomatoes are our vine tomatoes.  Alfred’s got a lot frozen, too.  I should go check the garden and see if more of our tomatoes are ready to pick.”


Dick was dressed in jeans and a dark-blue Gotham University sweatshirt, his hair still wet from the shower.  Bruce found him highly distracting but tried to concentrate on the sandwich.


The pickle did it.


Dick ate half his sandwich, then picked up the long pickle spear and bit it.  Bruce coughed and took a sip of lemonade, but Dick kept eating the pickle! 


“Bruce, you okay?  You look a little flushed.”


Bruce looked at his lover but Dick seemed genuinely concerned, not teasing him. “Um, fine.” He took another drink. “Just a little warm in here.”


“Oh, okay.” Dick smiled sunnily. “The weather is getting warmer.  We should be able to go swimming in the ocean again!  Though this unseasonable cool spell didn’t bother me.  I don’t mind the cold that much.”


“I guess you wouldn’t, considering your costume.”


Dick winked. “Well, flesh-colored tights help in the winter.” He sipped his lemonade and started on the second half of his sandwich. “Things have been quiet on patrol lately.”


“That’s good.” Despite popular opinion, Bruce didn’t live to pummel criminals.  He was just as happy when there was little or no crime.


Dick nodded. “It’s been quiet at the Titans, too.”


“The JLA has been strictly monitor duty for a week now.”


“Well, seems that all is right with the world.”


All is right with my world as long as you’re in it.


Bruce blushed slightly at such a sentimental statement, even said in the privacy of his own mind, but it was true.  Since Dick had entered his life, there was more happiness than sorrow for him.


Dick chattered as he finished his sandwich, offering to refill their lemonade glasses, then asked, “Want some pie?  There’s two pieces left.”


Bruce nodded and Dick took their plates and set them in the dishwasher.  He cut the final two pieces and set one before Bruce and in front of his chair. 


“Cherry’s always good,” Bruce observed, tasting the fine, cinnamon-dusted crust that Alfred did so well.


“I might be trying my hand at that soon.  Alfred says I have a knack for baking.”


Bruce smiled. “I’m sure you do.  You certainly out-do me in the cooking and baking department.”


“I dunno, you didn’t do so badly with the pasta a few weeks ago.”


“I used sauce from a jar.”


Dick grinned. “So?  I do, too.  But I’m learning Alfred’s from-scratch method.” Dick ate a piece of pie. “Mmm, still delicious.  Maybe we can get Alfred to bake us some new pies today or tomorrow.  Nothing like coming home to the smell of baking pie.”


Bruce was happy to hear that Dick had good associations with Wayne Manor and considered it home.  He knew that it had been a drastic change to go from a circus trailer to a mansion in which several rooms’ existence had been forgotten.


Dick smiled while eating his pie and looked young and beautiful, Bruce unable to keep his eyes off him.


When they were finished with dessert, Dick cleaned up and said, “I guess I’ll go out and check the garden.”


Bruce smiled and reached out, drawing Dick to him. “Can it wait?”


His young partner’s eyes twinkled. “Why, what do you have in mind, Mr. Wayne?”




Bruce kissed him, putting all his passion and desire into it.  When they broke apart, Dick said, “Mmm, I think the garden can wait.” He laughed and jumped up, wrapping his legs around Bruce and kissing him back fervently.  Bruce carried him upstairs, dropping him on their bed.


Dick stretched, his eyes sparkling with mischief.  Bruce growled and quickly stripped him of his sweatshirt, kissing the smooth chest and running his fingers through Dick’s soft, damp hair.  Dick unbuttoned Bruce’s shirt and ran his hands up and down the broad chest, neither one dwelling on the scars of the other, thankful that they were not numerous.  Luck seemed to be with them in more ways than one.


Clothes were quickly discarded, Bruce kissing every inch of his beautiful lover.  Dick’s purrs of happiness spurred him on, Bruce worshipping perfection.  This body, honed to a strength and sharpness that served beside him in the night, was also his to know, and Bruce was a very thorough explorer. 


Soft lips brushed against his nipples and he shivered, wondering how he lived before loving this man.  His hands cupped Dick’s face and he kissed him deeply, wanting and needing and loving in ways he could barely articulate, he was so passionate.  He let his body do the talking as so often in the night.


As daylight streamed into the bedroom, Bruce and Dick loved each other, body and soul.


& & & & & &


They lay contentedly in the large bed, Bruce’s arm encircling Dick and holding him close.  Dick’s arm lay across his stomach, his head on Bruce’s shoulder.  Bruce watched his dozing lover, his happiness overflowing.  He gently kissed Dick’s temple, a small purr his reward.


A car door slammed and Bruce murmured, “Alfred’s home.”


Dick stirred. “I should shower and get dressed.  I don’t want Alfred to do all the garden work by himself.” Bruce nuzzled his neck and he laughed. “You’re being very bad, Bruce!  Stop that!”


“Maybe I don’t want to.” Bruce licked Dick’s throat. “Maybe I want to be bad.”


Dick grinned and gently pushed him away. “After patrol you can have this body all over again.” He rolled out of bed. “Now are you going to come shower with me or are you going to just lay there in bed?”


Bruce pouted. “Bed.”


Dick laughed again and headed for the bathroom, giving Bruce a luscious rear view.


Bruce put his hands behind his head and listened to the sound of the shower running.  He should be running the night’s patrol through his head but all he could think of was the wonderful lovemaking he had just enjoyed.


A small smile quirked his face. 


Who knew that he would ever be so besotted?


Dick emerged from the shower, fresh and dripping and Bruce wanted to take him back to bed.  Dick padded around and took out underwear, jeans and a red sweatshirt that said Metropolis University on it. 


“Okay, lazybones, I’ll see you down for dinner later when you can get that to-die-for ass out of bed.”


Dick winked and bounced out of the room, Bruce shaking his head and wondering what he’d done to deserve his young lover. 








Tags: batman/robin, bruce wayne/dick grayson, private dancer
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