The crash echoed through the apartment and Dick Grayson took a deep breath.

What now?

"Oh, hey, dude.  Sorry!" Tad said, popping his head around the kitchen door and flashing that apologetic lopsided grin.  "That vase thing, it wasn't like...worth anything was it?"

Dick sighed, the eighteenth century Flemish porcelain vase that Bruce had given him as a 'house warming' gift?  Nah.  "It's okay, Tad.  Just go sit down and I'll fix us some food."

It had seemed like a good idea at the time to let Tad crash at his apartment.  Especially when the guy was standing out in the pouring rain, blonde hair plastered to his face and a nonchalant shrug gracing his body as he explained how he'd just been thrown out of his dingy one-roomed place because he'd missed the rent again.  Who knew that he was letting the proverbial bull into the china shop?

"Hey Dick, anything I can do to help?"

"No!" Dick yelled a little more forcefully than he'd intended to.  "No, you just go sit and I'll throw something together."

"Cool!"

Dick had found himself becoming fond of Tad despite his misgivings over the other man's methods, ability to follow instructions and general level of discipline.  Hell, just listen to him, he was beginning to sound like Bruce.

A fluttering in his stomach was the first sign that he was thinking about that damned Bruce Wayne again.

Pig-headed, tight-assed, jerk, son-of-a-bitch Bruce Wayne.

Dick flung the towel at the cupboard angrily; he wasn't going to let Bruce screw up his life a moment longer.  If the big jerk wanted to play the denial game, then fine.  Dick would play it that way too.

He calmed himself, taking deep breaths until the bats stopped beating at his insides.  He may not have any choice where Bruce was concerned, but he still had control of his life.  And other choices to make.  And one was to *not* be an uptight control freak.

Tad may be undisciplined, but he had proven on more than one occasion that his heart was in the right place.  The makings of a good friend, good partner.  Dick laughed as he went through his refrigerator and pulled out the fixings for sandwiches, imagining the look on Bruce's face if he ever came across Tad or his Nite-Wing persona.  Batman would definitely *never* have taken him on.  'Well, that's why we're different', Dick thought.  'I can recognize the potential beneath the recklessness.  And the 'Batman' school of thought is not the only way to do things'.

With a platter of thick sandwiches, and two bottles of non-alcoholic beer, Dick made his way back out to Tad, who, he noted with relief, had stayed put on the couch.

That goofy grin again, and Dick couldn't help but smile back.  It wouldn't be so bad sharing space with Tad for a while...as soon as he put away some of his more fragile possessions.  It might just be fun.

'You hear that, Bruce?' Dick said to himself, '*Fun*!  Tad could teach *you* a thing or two.'

He watched Tad attack his food with gusto, laughing as Tad told a story that Dick could barely understand because the kid was talking with his mouth full.  And he didn't even flinch when, after they were both finished eating, Tad leaned back on the couch, resting his big feet, clad in socks with holes in both big toes, right on the low table in front of them.  He just moved the antique bowl out of the way, and vowed to have a good time.

"This is a majorly cool apartment, man," Tad sighed, resting his head on the back of the sofa, "Being a superhero must pay pretty good."

Dick chuckled at the thought.  It was a nice idea--that the taxpayers of Gotham got to chip in to pay his salary every month, but he could never see it catching on.  "If only..." he sighed.

"Come on, Dick.  It must have its good points?  Being a hero, I mean."

"Yeah, you get shot at, people drive trucks at you and even the good guys blame you when things go wrong, it's a real blast some days!"

"But, you're a babe-magnet, right?"  Tad grinned and nudged Dick's arm.

"Well, that's kind of over-rated too," Dick explained quietly and with a sense of sadness, "You have to keep a low profile in your private life, it's best that people don't know who you are, safer for the people who love you."

"Bummer!"

"Yeah," Dick mentally shook himself, he was determined to shake away the images creeping into his mind again, thoughts of another lonely superhero.

"Wow, it's getting kind warm, huh?" Tad said suddenly stripping off his shirt.

"Yeah, sorry, the air conditioning has broken down and I think we're heading for a storm."

Outside, the sky was getting heavy, black storm clouds huddled together, waiting for the signal to lash the city with rain, licking its buildings with lightning.  The air was already charged with the approaching storm and the atmosphere in the apartment was suddenly becoming hot and tinged with electricity.

"So, what do you do for 'fun'?" Tad asked as his shirt flew through the air and landed on the floor.

Something inside Dick could only see the funny aspect of someone asking that question as they stripped off their clothes and despite himself he gave a short laugh, followed by the slight coloring of his cheeks.  "Oh...er...not much," he mumbled.

Maybe Tad was just sharper than he appeared, but as Dick looked up, that big goofy smile had been replaced by something infinitely more 'knowing'.

"What, a good looking guy like you?  Don't tell me that you don't know how to party, man.  You could like *totally* destroy the image I have of how an ass-kicking hero chills out after he's cleaned up the streets!"

Dick could feel the fluttering in his stomach again, "It's not as simple as that, Tad.  It never has been.  It's kind of lonely being Ba...being a 'hero'."

Moving a little closer, Tad placed his hand on Dick's shoulder, "Well, you got me now, man, a partner.  Maybe we could...hang out together, have a little fun?"

'That could work,' Dick thought.  After all, he'd had absolutely no fun in his previous partnership with Mr. Anti-fun himself.  Fighting bad guys, and then 'fun', he could get with that.  He opened his mouth to say so, but his words were stopped when Tad suddenly pressed closer and gave him a big, wet kiss on the lips.

Feelings zipped through him, pleasure gathering hot and heavy between his legs, shock making his eyes go wide and round.  That hadn't been *quite* how he had expected things to go.

Tad pulled away, and his usual grin slipped when he caught the look on Dick's face.  "Oh shit, man...I thought..."  He fell back against the couch, flushed and flustered.   "Must have been the beer, dude...sorry," he mumbled, wishing he hadn't thrown his shirt so far away.

Dick smiled, the shock wearing off, though he could still feel the effects of the brief encounter elsewhere.  "Tad, you only had one, and it was non-alcoholic."

The stricken look on Tad's face almost made Dick laugh.  "*Non-alcoholic*?" he asked, covering his face with two big hands.  "What the hell did you give me that shit for?"

That time Dick did laugh.  The idea of Tad juiced up on alcohol was too much.  The guy was a handful with just his natural high working for him.  "I don't drink much.  It's all I had in the house."  His mind reeled with the sudden possibilities of 'hanging out' with Tad.  'Fun' took on a whole new meaning, and Tad was put together just the way he liked them (in his fantasies, anyway).  He pulled Tad's hands away from his face.  "You know, you don't have to just go barreling into every situation.  There is such a thing as finesse."

Tad crossed his arms over his chest, miserable expression on his face, wishing he didn't feel so naked.  He was *never* self-conscious about his body.  "Hey, I thought that bit with the shirt *was* finesse!"  Slowly, his grin returned.  "Wait a minute, so you're not pissed about...  I mean that was okay and everything?  You're just a classy guy and you want things to go a little...'classier'?"

Dick grinned, sure that it was as goofy as the one on Tad's face.  The big lug's enthusiasm was infectious, and Dick couldn't help but get caught up in it.  But he could slow it down... he didn't want things to just explode right there on the couch.  And although 'classy' might be too strong a word, he did have a certain style.  And, it seemed, a whole new landscape to try it out on.

"Tad, take off your pants."

The quick push-pull-fling wasn't exactly what he had had in mind, but he couldn't fault the results.  Tad was a spectacular sight naked.  Well, naked except for those holey white socks.  Broad and hard and massive and heavy.  All over.  Maybe a little too short and too blond and too...*cheerful* to be his ultimate fantasy, but who needed 'never gonna happen' when 'ready and willing' was rearing up expectantly right in his own living room?

He stood up, eyes roaming over Tad's body, before settling on his face, locking gazes.  Trying to hold onto his control long enough to execute his plan, which was to slowly strip, take Tad to his bed, and take their time getting sweaty and sticky and satisfied.

But the storm suddenly started up outside, and there was more than electricity in the air inside, and Dick didn't even get his shirt off before saying, "Fuck finesse!" and swooping down to let the fun begin.

The squeal of laughter from Tad almost killed the passion, and it dissolved Dick into a fit of helpless giggles.  As they wrestled hotly on the couch, Dick had unexpectedly found out that
Tad had a problem... he was incredibly ticklish.  One gentle caress in the wrong place and the big blond idiot was a pool of giggling goo.  It was just so typical of everything Tad was and somehow it made him that little bit *more* attractive, not less.

"No!  No!  Stop!"  Tad hiccuped the words between hoots of laughter.

Dick grinned and ran his fingers across Tad's belly again lightly.  Once more the blond man squirmed and fell about.  Tears of laughter rolled down Dick's cheeks as he tormented Tad mercilessly, but damn it, he *was* having fun.  Simple, sexy, uncomplicated fun.

The two men struggled as Tad tried to grab Dick's hands and stop the tickling.  With a thud, they both hit the floor and Tad turned onto his stomach, protecting his sensitive ribs with his tightly crossed arms.  "Dude, I am going to *die* if you don't stop!" he panted.

Now lying across Tad's back panting heavily, Dick noticed the heavy feeling in his groin and the fact that they were both aroused.  His rock hard cock lay conveniently against Tad's ass, which was raised to ease the pressure on the blond man's erection beneath him.

"So, you gonna fuck me or what?" Tad asked suddenly.

The question seemed to shock Dick for a moment.  It wasn't as if he hadn't had that very thing in mind, it was merely Tad's frighteningly simple and straightforward way of approaching things that threw him for a loop.

"Yeah, as long as you want me to."

"Do I look like I don't want you to?"  Tad peered over his shoulder and shot Dick a sultry look.

"Good point!"  Dick kissed between the broad shoulders as the lightning lit the room and the thunder rattled the window frame.  Working his way down the strong curve of Tad's back, he prayed he wouldn't hit another ticklish spot yet.  He swept his tongue across the soft arch of Tad's ass as the room lit up again and the lightning blazed across the sky.

Tad groaned as the warm wetness of Dick's tongue slid between his cheeks and the jolt of pleasure shook him to his scruffy white socks.

Lost in their intimate pursuits, neither man saw a shadow pause briefly at the window before moving on into the storm.

In fact, Dick wasn't paying attention at all to the weather outside.  There was something much better raging right there.  He found that despite all of those places that set Tad to giggling, there were a few that caused him to make a pleasantly odd grunting sound, thunderous in its own right.  And if Dick added a few tugs on the thick column jutting from between Tad's legs, then watch out...Tad had jerked back hard enough to make Dick's vision flash like lightning.

Time to get his face out of the line of fire, Dick thought.  He moved up, lying across Tad's back, ass and cock aligning almost naturally, before breathing in Tad's ear.  "Hey, can you move?"

Tad groaned out, "Oh, yeah..." and proceeded to rock his hips, pushing back against Dick's aching cock.

With a hiss that spoke of both pleasure and frustration, Dick used both hands to still the motion.  "No!  I mean, can you move from *here*?  I'm really in no condition to wrestle you to the bedroom, and we have a few problems we need to take care of."

"Problems?" Tad grunted, and Dick could feel gentle motion beneath him.

"Tad...stop it..."  Grabbing onto the hand that Tad had been using to jerk himself off.  "The stuff we need is in the bedroom, and I've got to get out of my clothes!"

Though even as he spoke, he was freeing his desperate cock from his pants, because suddenly getting naked below the waist was number one on his list.

"Shit...yeah, I can move, dude."

And Dick soon found that Tad was wrestling *him* to the bedroom.  As soon as he crossed the threshold, he ripped off his shirt, and raced to his nightstand, while Tad threw himself down on the bed, which Dick was glad that he had taken time to make that morning; though he was sure that Tad couldn't have cared less.  Fumbling in a drawer, he triumphantly came up with condoms, which he tossed over his shoulder onto the bed, and rooted around some more.  Where the hell was it...?

He heard grunting and looked over at Tad, perfectly positioned, ass up, shoulders down, legs splayed...pumping his erection into his fist again.

"Tad!  Freeze!"  He sounded as desperate as he felt, thinking it was too bad that he didn't have an infamous Bat voice, and trying to decide his best course of action.  Where the *fuck* was that *lube*?

Lightning flashed, literally and figuratively, and he remembered hastily shoving a tube under his pillow as he made his bed earlier, and the sweaty solo session he had had the night before fueled by images of a certain...

'Stop it...don't bring *him* here....  It's you, Tad, and *reality* for a change.'  Dick dove for the bed, feeling around for the errant tube, and then made quick work out of preparing both himself and his partner.

And the *rest* of his previous 'plan' went up in smoke, because there would be no taking his time here, nothing slow and sweet, not with Tad making those noises that no longer seemed odd, but just damned pleasurable, or with them moving together in that rough rhythm they quickly found.  It was hard and fast, but no less fine, Dick thought.  Sweet...tight...heat.  And what was happening outside had *nothing* on the hurricane ripping through his bed, and Dick's only regret was that Tad wasn't lying on his back, because he really wanted to see the big lug's face when minutes later he simultaneously felt and heard Tad come, and just the idea of it had him shooting seconds later.

For a long while, there was only the sound of the two men trying to breathe again, and then Dick heard muttering and cursing from the body underneath him.  It took a minute for the words to form and register to his sex-muddled brain.

"Hey...man...I'm trying to *breathe* here..."

Dick chuckled, though it came out more as a gasping cough, and he took a nip at a meaty, sweaty shoulder, before easing his hips back, pulling his soft cock out of the wonderfully *fun* place it had found, and rolling over onto his back, tossing the used rubber on the floor.  Tad huffed and rolled in the opposite direction, also onto his back, and they lay side by side, breathing finally normal.

Saying they were both hot and sticky would have been an understatement.  'We could use a shower,' Dick thought.  Hell, the *room* could use a shower, he added as the heavy, humid odor of sex filled his nostrils.  He reached out in Tad's direction, happening upon something that crackled under his fingers.  Grinning, he turned on his side, facing Tad, and grinned wider as tiny jolts of desire ran through his veins.  Tad was a beautiful, glorious mess...slick with sweat on some places and semen on others, hair wild and sticking out all over the place...  He took the condom packet and tossed it onto that broad expanse of chest.

"So, you gonna fuck me or what?"  Said in almost a perfect imitation of Tad's voice.

Tad cracked open one eye, took a look at Dick's smiling face, and burst into a fit of laughter.  "See, Dick, I *knew* you were a fun dude!"  As Tad rolled to his side, Dick watched the half-hard flesh between Tad's legs flop over onto the bed.  Then the blond reached for him, pulling him close.  "How about a quick nap first...let me refill my tank?" Tad asked, and before Dick could say 'yes' or 'no', Tad was snoring, not quite softly, in his ear, big arms locked tightly around him.

Dick sighed.  No shower, no more sex...not yet anyway.  Okay, he could lie there and go with the flow.  After all, he was an ass-kicking hero just chilling out at home.  He closed his eyes, listening to the rain beat heavily on the roof, and for the first time in a long time, it didn't bring forth fantasy visions of a dark, brooding man, but the very real memories of the spirited blond sharing his bed.  When sleep overtook him, he had a goofy grin firmly in place.

Dick rubbed his eyes and yawned as he slipped from the bedroom and into the kitchen.  All of that physical exertion had left him feeling almost dehydrated.  When he'd finally levered Tad off his ribcage, he'd decided to make a dash for the refrigerator and some cold mineral water.

He still had a deliciously heavy feeling between his legs and as he padded barefoot across the kitchen floor, he resisted the urge to slide his hand down and pander to the need already stirring there.  Tad would be awake soon and they could explore that little item together, he thought with a grin.

It felt so good, having fun and playing around with no one making snap judgments and no one expecting anything from you but quick and easy satisfaction.  Okay, so it wasn't the 'never to be repeated love affair' he still sought and desired, but it was intimate company and it felt pretty damned good.

Tad's energetically cheerful mood must be contagious, Dick thought with a grin as he reached into the refrigerator.  He just didn't seem able to wipe this dumb smile off his face.  And the other man's engagingly forthright manner, though somewhat perturbing at first, did save a hell of a lot of time and dancing around.

'So, you gonna fuck me or what?' echoed through his head and he chuckled aloud.  Somehow, he could never envisage Bruce saying something like that, even though it was a delicious thought.
No, he couldn't even force Bruce Wayne to say 'I care about you', he was just expected to know it.  Yeah, he was supposed to use some kind of Bat-telepathy to work out that the man he loved more than life even gave a damn.

Dick slammed the fridge door and leaned back against it, his still hot body welcoming the chill.

You see, he was doing it again.  Just thinking about Bruce Wayne managed to kill his good mood in seconds.  It was a gift, he decided, the man was like a black hole for fun and joy, just sucking it all in and losing it all in some deep, dark Batcave of repression and denial.

'Dick, why do you do this to yourself?' he thought with a sigh as he closed his eyes and let the cool water trickle down his throat, 'You tried losing yourself in short, disastrous relationships with beautiful women and that didn't work, so you figure that it's men you want.'  He gave a short laugh, 'Okay, so you haven't tried them *all* yet, but still, no matter what, it always comes down to *one* man, the one that nature seems determined to deny you.  Dick, go back to bed with Tad and just lose yourself for a while, stop analyzing and pining!'

Pushing himself away from the fridge, Dick drained the bottle and placed it in the trash. He grabbed another to take back with him and made his way out of the kitchen.  He desperately wanted to get his good mood back, he was tired of feeling miserable and unloved.  'Tim was right the other night when he said 'Hell, Dick, I thought this moody teenager shit went away when you hit your twenties?'  Dick laughed at the memory.  That damned kid was way too wise for his years, but he was right, big tough Nightwing *was* acting like a moody teenager over *Batman*.

It had shaken Dick to his core when during their training session Tim had let fly with the fact that he knew Dick was in love with Bruce.  He'd always thought he was so discreet with his longing for his old mentor, but Tim had seen through him easily.  Dick had stopped dead in his tracks and even asked the younger man if he was 'still okay' with them training together.  Tim had thankfully grinned and thumped Dick in the shoulder uttering the words, 'Of course I'm cool with it, you jerk!'

Damn it, he was a good kid and a great Robin and Bruce was lucky to have him watching his back.

Wandering back into the bedroom, Dick's thoughts were immediately diverted to the sight before him.  Tad had dropped onto his back and lay splayed out on the bed in all his naked glory, snoring like an old hog.

Dick stretched out beside him and let his fingers move lightly across Tad's chest, causing the prone figure to unconsciously move towards him.  "Hey dude!"  Dick copied Tad's tone playfully.

Bleary eyes opened and a grin spread across Tad's face, "Hey!"

"You thirsty?"  Dick reached over and offered him the water.

"Yeah, thanks," Tad swilled it back greedily, spilling it on the bed and letting it dribble down his chin, before wiping it away with the back of his hand, "You know, you're a really cool guy, Dick!"

"Thanks, so are you!"

"Me?  Hell no, I'm like 'dumb-ass central' and I know it.  I still don't get why you even bother with someone like me."

Dick lay back and smiled, "Because I like you, Tad."

"Yeah?  You're not just, you know...*humoring* me?"

For a brief second, Dick felt guilty that he couldn't offer Tad what he really deserved.  But he would give him all he could.  "You're not 'dumb'.  You're impulsive.  It's not that you *can't* think...sometimes you just don't stop to think.  But you're one of the nicest guys I know, and I *do* like you...a lot."

Dick had to grin, because Tad actually blushed, color staining even the tips of his ears.

"Aw gee, thanks.  That means a lot coming from you," Tad whispered, not looking Dick in the eye.

"It's the truth.  I wouldn't lie to you about that...especially after last night."

Tad looked up at Dick through thick lashes, then looked away again, shrugging his shoulders.  "I know I'm probably not your type, but it was fun, right?"

Dick's breath quickened, a wonderful sort of tension pulling at his heart and his groin.  Maybe it wasn't the love of a lifetime, but it wasn't a one-night stand either.  "Tad..." his hand reached out, touching the planes and contours of muscled flesh, "you are *so* my type.  And I was hoping the fun wasn't over."

The grin was back, the light in the eyes, and Dick didn't have time to brace himself before Tad pounced, knocking him flat on his back, kissing the breath out of him.  Dick laughed under the onslaught, and then moaned as desire surged, solidifying as the rampant erections trapped between them.  The kiss intensified, and with Tad's weight on top of him, Dick could do little more than kiss back, hands roving over the firm body, not even able to thrust his hips up the way he wanted, or lock his legs around Tad to pull him closer.

"Oh shit!"  The curse escaped from him unbidden when Tad broke off the kiss.  He heard the chuckle in his ear, and would have laughed himself, if he'd had enough breath in his lungs.

"Dick..."  The tone was playful, but in a way that made Dick's cock twitch expectantly.

"Yeah?" Dick gasped, eyes shut as Tad moved, grinding against him.

"My tank's full and I'm raring to go.  Still up for some fun?"

"It's not a good idea to tease a man that knows all of your ticklish spots, Tad."  Dick moved his fingers over Tad's ribs, giving his voice a slight edge.

Tad giggled from anticipation alone.  "Hey, stop.  I wasn't teasing...just making sure.  Last night you wanted me to..."

"I still want."  His fingers teased over sensitive flesh, trying to tempt, not tickle.

"Cool!" Tad answered, moving enough to spread Dick's legs, and grab the necessities.

Dick did his part by raising his hips, hooking his arms around Tad's neck and his legs around the blond's waist.  Which really wasn't the best position for Tad to get them ready, but with a bit of effort, the job got done.

"Ready or not, here I come!" Tad said, nudging his way insistently into Dick's body.

"I hope you don't mean that literally," Dick groaned, though he felt about ready to come himself and Tad wasn't even all the way in yet.

A series of grunts and groans and then crazy, impulsive, reckless Tad started a slowly tantalizing rhythm that made Dick's toes curl.  It was so unexpected... he had been prepared for another fast ride, not the drawn out sensual torture that was being inflicted upon him.  All of his efforts to speed things up were thwarted, and Tad pinned his arms to the bed when he tried to give his cock some direct relief.

He resigned himself to riding it out, and settled into the slow climb to climax, his dick was so hard he actually thought he could hear the thump as it knocked against his quivering belly.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"That's what I'm doing," Tad huffed, body straining as he worked to maintain control of the pace.

"No...the door...somebody's knocking at the door..."

"Huh?"  And Tad stopped in mid-stroke, head tilted to the side like a dog on alert.  "Aw, man...  I thought my heart was just beating hard..."

Dick laughed... a painful, choked laugh.  "I hate to say it, but I gotta get that."

"Shit.  You're joking, right?"  Pushing in deep, then executing some fast thrusts.

"*Tad*... stop...oooohhhh shit!"  Panting, Dick fought an internal battle... fuck faster or forget it and answer the door?  Only to hear the knocking again, a more persistent rapping.  "Tad, seriously, let me get that."

Tad pulled out, dropping to the bed with an audible 'oof!' and Dick moaned as he tried to get his body to cooperate enough so he could sit up.  He gave a quick kiss to Tad's sweaty brow, and got up to find some pants, snagging the pair he had dropped the night before.

"I'll be right back.  I do training over the weekends with Robin, and I guess he decided to come early to eat breakfast again.  I've got to stop buying Captain Crunch for that kid!"  He pulled the pants on, not bothering with shirt, underwear or anything on his feet.  "I'll tell him I'll meet him later...I was going to cancel today's session anyway," Dick said over his shoulder on the way to the door.

He snatched open the door, eyes rising slowly as he realized that, no, it wasn't Tim who had knocked.  The clear, steady gaze of Bruce Wayne stared back.  The last person that he wanted to see at that moment.  Especially when he was sure he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed and not after a good night's sleep.

"Bruce, is everything okay?" he asked, when his brain finally focused enough for him to form words.  "Where's Tim?"

"He's at the Manor, doing some chores for Alfred."

Self-consciously, Dick crossed his arms.  "So, what are you doing here?"

"I thought I might--"

"Hey...dude...is he gone?  I want a bowl of that Captain Crunch myself before we go back--"  Tad stumbled into the room, looking just as rumpled as Dick, but not nearly as dressed since he only had on a hastily wrapped bed sheet.  "Oh, man...sorry."

From the doorway, the two men turned towards the voice.  Dick with his mouth gaping open, Bruce with his eyes narrowed, both men silent.  For once, Tad was quiet as well, smiling uncertainly, weight shifting from foot to foot, not knowing what he had walked in on, but unable to miss the tension in the air.

"Er, Bruce, I think you know Tad, right?"  Dick stuttered the words as he felt his face flush.  "Tad, this is Bruce Wayne."

"Hey" Tad smiled widely and gave the huge glowering man a 'thumbs up' sign.

As Dick glanced back at Bruce, he could see a face set in stone, eyes like cold shards and a body rigid with tension.  "So, what can I do for you, Bruce?" he asked at last, wishing for all the world that he could be somewhere else, in fact almost anywhere else but standing here between these two men.

"I need to speak with you," Bruce replied in a low voice, "*Alone*."

Dick wasn't sure why that last word, snarled and spat out irritated him so badly, but his temper suddenly flared, "Well, I'm kinda busy right now, is it important?"  He knew he sounded pissy but he was way past caring.  Hell, Bruce Wayne had played the martyr once too often.  He was tired of being the 'bad guy' in this relationship or make that this *non* relationship.

"Do you think I'd be here if it wasn't important?"  Bruce was now glaring at Dick instead of Tad, but the shift in interest didn't make Dick feel any more comfortable.

"Okay.  Hey, Tad, could you give us a minute?"  Dick turned and smiled at the young man who was now looking decidedly unsettled.

"Sure, dude!  Hey is it okay if I take the 'crunch' into the bedroom?" Tad asked, then suddenly looked troubled that he'd maybe 'given the game away'.

"Yeah, of course you can, just shake out the sheet before I get back in there," Dick laughed and defiantly turned back to face Bruce.  "You'd better come in and close the door."

Rarely had he seen the older man so obviously suppressing rage, but even with Bruce's considerable talent for clamping down on emotion, right at this moment he looked like he was about to explode.  "Well?  What's so important that you couldn't use the telephone?"

"Don't you think that boy's a risk to your identity?" Bruce hissed, "He's stupid and reckless..."

"And that's *none* of your business!"

"If you're exposed to the media it has an effect on me, so it *is* my business."

"Oh, oh now we're getting down to it.  As usual this is all about what Bruce Wayne wants.  Well silly me, here was I thinking that you might be concerned for *my* safety!" Dick raged.

"I am concerned for your safety."

"No you're not, you're concerned about Bruce Wayne, the only person you *ever* gave a shit about."

"How can you say that?"

Dick stopped and stared, he was angry and upset, but the sudden sadness in Bruce's voice made him falter.  "Bruce, just say what you came to say and leave.  I'm tired of these games we play and this constant fight.  I just want a life; one outside of battling maniacs on the street."

"With *him*?" Bruce snarled gesturing to the bedroom door.

The anger flooded back and Dick's eyes blazed, "What if I do?  Why should you care?  I like Tad and he likes me.  We have *fun*, you've heard of that, right?"

"You mean sex."

"Yeah, I mean sex."

"And that's enough for you?"

"It's more than you're offering!"  Dick was now yelling, and his entire body shook with anger.

"Is that what this is about?" Bruce snapped, looking Dick up and down almost contemptuously.

Dick's mouth dropped open.  "Oh, don't flatter yourself, Bruce.  If you really think I'd sleep with Tad *just* to annoy *you*, then you *way* overestimate your importance in my life."

For a fleeting moment the hurt flashed across the usually impenetrable face, and for that moment Dick felt a thrill of pleasure because he'd hit a nerve.

"I'm sorry I disturbed you, Dick, my apologies.  I'll inform Tim that your training routine is off for today."  Bruce turned and opened the door, "Good day, Dick," he said quietly and closed the door behind him.

As the adrenaline began to seep away, Dick could feel the tears stinging the back of his eyes.  Even as a youth, he'd always hated fighting with Bruce.  It always left him with a hollow feeling, and yet they'd done it with frightening regularity since he'd hit teenage and his hormones had kicked in.  Since the boyish adoration had transformed into something much more complicated.

"Hey, Dick?" a small voice said suddenly, "You okay, man?"

Dick scrubbed away an angry tear and turned to see Tad framed in the doorway.  "Yeah, I'm okay.  Just my usual fight with Bruce, no big deal."

The blond bit his lip and shuffled, "Was it because I was here?  Oh Dick, I'm sorry, dude, I never meant to cause trouble for you."

Wandering over and scooping Tad into his arms, Dick held him tightly, "No, it wasn't your fault!  Bruce and I have been having this fight since I was about fourteen years old and we'll still be having it when I'm a hundred," he leaned in and kissed Tad on the forehead softly, "You haven't done anything but make me happy!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, really.  Now, I seem to remember that we were in the middle of something?"

Tad turned on the smile, but it was clear that something was still troubling him, "He thinks I'm bad for you, doesn't he?"

"Oh, Bruce thinks everything's 'bad for you' including fun and anything that involves smiling.  Let's just not talk about him, huh?"  Dick began to grind his hips against Tad playfully, "Let's go check out those sheets for crumbs, shall we?"

"You are like *seriously* cool, you know that, Dick?"

"Well how about you come with me in there and make 'seriously cool Dick' all hot?"

There were quite a few things that Tad had to be told twice before they would sink in...but that wasn't one of them.  And Dick got an instant reminder of how quickly Tad could move.  Within seconds, he was flat on his back, pants across the room, cereal crumbs irritating one cheek of his ass, with a big blond on top of him doing wonderful things with his talented tongue.  And it felt so good, but despite his intentions, he couldn't quite let go of that ugly 'post-fight' feeling...

"Dick...*Dick*..."

"Huh?"

Tad sighed, rolling off of his companion.  "It's okay if you want to talk about him.  I promise I'll just listen and not give you any dumb advice."

"Shit.  I'm sorry, Tad.  He just drives me crazy.  No one has ever been able to piss me off more than Bruce Wayne.  But let's forget about him.  Really."

Tad traced circles on Dick's belly, watching the muscles react with tiny quivers.  "Does he know?"

"Know what?" Dick gasped, the fight with Bruce starting to fade under Tad's soothing touch.

"That he makes you crazy, dude...and that you're crazy about him."

His body tensed, and Dick lifted his head, but Tad didn't meet his gaze.  He dropped his head back down with an audible sigh.  "Oh hell, Tad."

Tad didn't answer, just changed the direction of his fingers, slowly moving along the crease of Dick's groin, rubbing softly then scratching lightly and back again.

"Yeah, he knows.  Not that it matters.  And now the self-centered bastard thinks I'm sleeping with you just to piss him off."

 "Yeah?"  Whispered as teasing strokes were made on Dick's inner thighs.

"It's not true, Tad."  Dick found himself groaning, trying to hold onto the thread of conversation.  "He has nothing to do with you and me.  But I probably should have told you about him."

Tad gently nudged Dick's legs a little further apart, and rolled Dick's balls in his palm.  "We're cool, man.  I just don't like to see you unhappy."

Dick grabbed Tad's wrist, halting his motions.  "It's not that he doesn't love me, it's just that he's decided how things should be between us...how he feels they *have* to be, and I can't change that.  But I'm a grown man, and I make my own decisions about everything else in my life.  You make me happy and I want to be with you."

"You know, Dick," Tad growled playfully, finally smiling again, "you got a way with words, man.  So, it's okay to fuck now, right?"

More than ready to move things along, Dick laughed out loud, and answered, "You have a way with words, yourself.  There is one condition, though."

"What's that?

"Get rid of the crumbs under my ass."

Laughing, rolling them so that he was on his back, and Dick was on top, Tad said, "Fine, you do all the work then."  He groped around under one of the rumpled pillows, what seemed to have been designated their official 'stashing' place, and handed everything off.  Moaning when Dick wasted no time slicking him up, and making those grunting noises that Dick had grown to love when he felt himself penetrated by determined fingers.  "Hey...that's not exactly what I had in mind..." he gasped out.  "I never got to finish this morning, " he added, words hissed out through clenched teeth.

Dick traced a nipple with a slick thumb, then pinched it hard enough to make Tad yelp with pleasure and tighten around the fingers stretching him.  "Are you complaining?" Dick asked, pinching him again.

"Noooo..." Tad answered in a drawn-out groan capped off by his signature grunt, before throwing his legs over Dick's shoulders.

"Didn't think so," Dick smirked, taking Tad's erection in hand, pulling on it firmly.  Laughing when Tad's fist grabbed on to help.  He let Tad take over that job, and gripped the blond's muscular thighs, ready to get his own cock in on the action.  Enthusiastically intense action...temperature rising in the room as their joined bodies flushed hot with pleasure and exertion.

"Wanna race?" Tad suddenly choked out, pumping his fist faster around his hard-on.

Dick didn't answer, but he met the increased tempo with quickened thrusts into Tad's ass.  Sweat flew from their bodies, the air thick with the moisture, heavy with musky odors, and filled with rowdy sounds of passion.

"Dick..."  There was a definite tone of warning in Tad's voice, and seconds later, his whole body stiffened.  Dick felt muscles clamping down on his cock and Tad's strong legs locked around him, pulling him down.  They both went still, Tad's face set in a grimace that looked like pain but obviously wasn't since his dick started spouting come without any additional encouragement.

And Dick thought that losing had never felt so good...not that he was that far behind.  By the time that Tad had shuddered his last, Dick had reached his own climax, and they ended up collapsed and panting with just enough strength left for silly, sated smiles.

Tad stirred first a short time later, a grin crossing his face as he registered the wonderful weight pinning him to the bed...making a face as he realized that it was also pressing on his full bladder.  Moving Dick gently to the side, he eased out of the bed, going to the bathroom to relieve himself, laughing at the sight of himself in the mirror over the sink.  "You look fucked," he muttered at his reflection, raising his hands to run his fingers through his matted hair.  'Whew! and you *stink* too!,' he added silently.

"Dick..." he called out, padding back to the bedroom when he got no answer, scratching absently at the dried flakes on his belly.  "Dick," he tried again, a little louder, nudging gently at his friend's shoulder.  "Dude, wanna come scrub my back?"

"Let me catch a few more z's," Dick mumbled into the mattress, "I did all the work that time, you know."

"Yeah, man, and you did good," Tad beamed.  "No problem, I'm going to go get something to eat."

Tad searched through the kitchen, a frown growing deeper on his face.  "Shit.  No doughnuts!" he grumbled, and headed back to the bedroom.  A smile reasserted itself as soon as he caught sight of Dick's bare ass, firm and inviting...and his cock slowly filled as he moved closer.  He thought about sneaking up, burrowing between the muscular cheeks with his tongue, or his finger, or the one-eyed monster that had perked up between his legs, but made himself head for the bathroom for a cold shower, determined not to disturb Dick's rest.  A cold shower to calm down, and then later, when Dick was up, a hot one together...images of a slick and soapy Dick teased at his nerves, making him laugh.  'Tad, my man, you are *out* of control.'

Resolutely, he turned his mind from the physical appeal of the man in the other room, and found himself thinking about how Dick was not just a fun lover, but a good friend and a patient teacher.  More than he was sure he deserved...and *much* more than that jerk Bruce Wayne deserved.  He felt a flash of anger that Dick could be hurt in such a way, sorrow that his friend couldn't have the happiness that he wanted, though he couldn't deny he was glad for himself and what he and Dick had been able to have.  But still...

Tad jumped in and out of the shower, drying off quickly and hurrying into the living room to pull some clothes from the bag where he had shoved all of his belongings the day before.  Once dressed, he went back to the bedroom, hovering in the doorway.

"Dick?"

He got a sleepy "Hmm?" in answer.

"I'm going to run out for a minute...for...*doughnuts*."  Pleased that he had come up with a plausible excuse.

"Doughnuts will kill you, Tad," Dick said, stretching a little.

"But not as painfully as those seven-grain bagels you have in there, man.  So, I'll be right back, okay?  Don't start anything fun without me!"

Dick waved him on, thinking that he really should get up and take a shower, maybe a quick workout to get the kinks out...but first, just a little more rest....

Downstairs, Tad stopped short, his pride in getting away unquestioned going up in a black cloud of smoke.  He smacked himself on the forehead, pacing and muttering as the reality of his situation hit him.  It was a long way to Wayne Manor and he was without wheels.  No way could he pass off that long a bus ride as a 'doughnut run'.  Then, he got another idea...probably a bad one, but it had appeal.  And it couldn't be any crazier than going to talk to Bruce Wayne in the first place.  He knew not to bother Dick's Nightwing cycles, but there was his regular street bike...  And he was only going to be gone a little while...  Couldn't hurt anything, could it?  At least the rain seemed to have stopped for the time being.  Plus, it was for a good cause!  Having convinced himself, he made his way to where Dick kept the motorcycle parked, and not daring to go up and swipe the keys, he decided to hot-wire it, and was zooming off down the street before he could think twice about it.

It was all he could do not to whoop and holler as he whizzed to the outskirts of the city, though he *was* grinning like a madman.  And he did manage to keep from weaving around cars, but once away from the more traffic-congested streets, he couldn't resist seeing what the bike could do.  'Man!' he thought, 'I gotta get me one of these!'  He amused himself with fantasies of himself in costume, rushing in to fight wrongs on behalf of an adoring city.  'I have to come up with a new name,' he reminded himself, 'now that *Nite-Wing* is out.'  Before he knew it, Wayne Manor loomed into view.

He couldn't help being in awe of the imposing structure, but there were only a few things in the world that actually scared him, and rich men who acted like stupid jerks weren't one of them.  Carefully, he parked the bike, before going up to the big front doors and ringing the bell.  The door was opened by a proper-looking butler-type who spoke to him with an accent.

"Yes?  May I help you?"

"I'm here to see Bruce Wayne," Tad said, boldly.  When the man raised one eyebrow in a gesture of skepticism, Tad added, "He knows me.  I'm Tad...a friend of Dick's."

Though he didn't seem convinced, the man said, "Just a moment, please.  Wait right there."

When the man came back, Tad was shifting from foot to foot, trying not to feel nervous.  "Master Bruce will see you now.  Please walk this way."

Tad stifled a giggle and fought the urge to imitate the older man's stiff walk.  He was led into what looked like an office, where Bruce Wayne was sitting behind a large antique desk apparently working on some paperwork.

"Master Dick's friend to see you, sir."

Bruce glanced up, ignoring Tad's presence.  "Thank you, Alfred.  We'll be just a minute.  And Tim...?"

"Is busy in the garage, sir."

Bruce gave Alfred a terse nod, and the older man left.  Only then did he turn his attention to the disheveled person standing in front of his desk, managing to look both annoyed and disinterested at the same time.

For the life of him, Tad couldn't figure out what Dick saw in the man...besides his looks and money...and Dick didn't seem like the type to be impressed by such things.  'After all,' Tad thought, 'he likes me.'

"You had something you wanted to see me about?"

Truthfully, Tad had had no idea what he would say, but something about Bruce Wayne made his temper flare and he glared as he answered.  "If you have a problem with me, I think you should tell me to my face. "

Bruce raised an eyebrow and Tad wondered if 'eyebrow-raising' was a requirement for everyone that lived in the house.  "My problem," Bruce said, "is with Dick, and it isn't your concern."

"Dick and I are partners, so he *is* my concern, and your real problem is 'you'," Tad said hotly.

Both of Bruce's eyebrows shot up, before he asked, "Does Dick know you're here?"

It was like a splash of cold water to Tad's burning anger, remembering that for all intents and purposes, he had probably stepped way out of bounds...  "No," he finally answered.

Bruce nodded as if that told him everything.  His gaze was steady and knowing.  "You're impetuous and careless and--"

"Dumb as a post, yeah, I know," Tad cut in.  Grinning widely, he added, "And Dick likes me anyway...wants to work with me...*be* with me.  He's a hell of a guy, ain't he?"  No answer, no change in the other man's expression, and Tad's grin faded.  "And so what if he lets me hang with him?"

"Dick can be a bit reckless himself, and he doesn't always think matters though clearly.  You are a liability and he doesn't see that."

Tad had to admit that he was a bit of a trouble-magnet, but he would never hurt Dick intentionally.  "Dick may give me too much credit, but *you* don't give him *enough*, man!"  Another quick smile crossed his face as he thought of how he saw his friend.  "He's got a wild, funky style, but that doesn't mean he's not thinking.  Just because he's flashier than Batman, doesn't mean he's irresponsible or anything.  Gee, don't you know him at *all*?"

Slowly, Bruce stood up, and looked down on Tad from his full height, and Tad would have bet money that the temperature in the room dropped to freezing when he spoke.  "You should leave now.  Whatever it is that you think you know about Dick is irrelevant."

Surprised, but not afraid, Tad took a step back.  Then another so that he wouldn't have to tilt his head back to meet Bruce Wayne's eye.  But he found that he wasn't mad, just sad for Dick at Bruce's stubborn way.  With a shrug, he said, "Okay.  I'm leaving."  He turned to go, but before he took a step he turned back.  "What I *know*," he said quietly, "is that you may not mean to hurt Dick, but you do.  A lot.  And, I know that even though he tries to hide it, he hasn't given up hope about you...the two of you.  I know that his fucking around with me fucks with you *big*-time, and it has nothing to do with how stupid I am, either.  Though, I'm not dumb enough to throw away having him as a friend, or a partner, or...more."  There was no response from the other man, and Tad decided that at least he had tried, and he wasn't going to let some rich dude spoil what *he* had with Dick.  With a little more attitude, he added, "And I know that I'll be glad about who *I'm* in bed with tonight."

Bruce paled a bit, and Tad knew he had struck a nerve, and he chose that moment to make his exit.  He opened the door, stepped into the hall, and then stuck his head back inside.  "Hey, I hate to ask, but can you lend me five dollars?  I told Dick I was going out for doughnuts, and I don't have any cash.  I'll pay you back, I swear."  Color quickly flooded Bruce's face and Tad was sure he could see steam, so he backed out and hastily shut the door.  He muttered to himself as he tried to remember his way back to the front door.  "Gee, what's with that guy?  I *said* I was going to pay him back!"

He was surprised that Alfred hadn't shown up to escort him, but a short time later, after resisting the urge to snoop around and evidently making no wrong turns, he found himself in the large foyer at the front of the house.  He was almost out of the door, when a voice called out behind him.

"Young man?  Just a moment please."

He recognized the voice, and when he turned around Alfred was there, holding out a bag.  "Could I impose upon you to make a delivery?  Master Dick was always fond of my blueberry muffins."

"Sure, cool, no problem.  Um...you might want to check on Mr. Wayne... I think he needs a glass of water."

There was a tiny twitch at the corner of Alfred's mouth.  "Yes, well, please tell Master Dick not to let circumstances make him a stranger...I don't get out much anymore."  Adding almost to himself, "Unless there's an emergency afoot."

"Sure thing, Alfred," Tad said, smiling at the older man.  "See you around."

Outside, he jumped on the motorcycle and raced back to Dick's place, hoping his friend was still in bed, still naked, and well-rested.

Tad turned the corner just a little too fast and barely missed sideswiping a car that was parked on the street just blocks away from where Dick lived.  He forced himself to slow down...'Do not crash this bike...do not crash this bike'... playing like a cheer in his head.  Once parked, he dashed upstairs and fell into the apartment when the door opened just as he got there.  Both he and Dick ended up on the floor, and with a lopsided grin, he said, "I'm back."

"Yeah, that hadn't escaped me.  What took you so long?"

Tad, who hadn't thought up a cover story, just blinked.  Then blinked again.

Dick almost laughed, imagining the sound of creaky gears turning inside Tad's head.

"Um...I couldn't decide what kind of doughnuts to get," Tad said, holding out a miraculously un-squished bag.

"Tad," Dick said, peering inside the bag, "These are muffins.  Unmistakably Alfred Pennyworth muffins."  Looking up, he pinned the blond with his gaze.  "What. Did. You. Do?"

With a sigh, Tad said, "I went out to Wayne Manor."

Dick jumped to his feet, one hand running through his hair, and the other shaking the bag of muffins in Tad's direction.  "You did *what*?"

"I went to tell Bruce Wayne what an ass he is?" Tad said, a little uncertainly, shrugging his shoulders from where he still sat on the floor.

Dick shook his head, stepping over Tad to shut the door.  When Tad stood up, Dick had his back to him, trying to compose himself.  Tad reached out, but then pulled his hand back.

"Are you mad?"

Slowly, Dick turned around, unable to keep from smiling, using all of his control not to laugh hysterically.  "I really should be, but damn I would have loved to have seen the look on his face!"  Finally giggling at the thought.  "And I appreciate the gesture, but you really shouldn't have gotten in the middle of our crap."

"Sorry.  But I got mad, and if he has a problem with me, I thought he should be man enough to say so to me.  Which he did..."

"He didn't give you any shit, did he?"

"Nothing that wasn't the truth...but I had my say.  And then I hightailed it out of there...and Alfred sent you muffins and said you should visit him more often."

Sighing, Dick said, "Yeah, I should."

Tad finally moved closer, taking Dick into his arms, smashing the previously undamaged muffins in the process.  "Sorry about Bruce," he whispered.  "And I hope I didn't cause more trouble for you by opening my big mouth."

"I love having you on my side, but, from now on, let me handle Bruce, okay."

"Sure, dude.  So, I'm forgiven?"

"No harm done, I guess.  I was just worried about you.  You know trouble has a way of finding you."

"There is one other thing," Tad said, nuzzling at Dick's neck.

"Yeah?  What's that."

"I kinda had to hot-wire your bike."

"You *what*?"  Pushing Tad back so he could look in his face.

"Well, I didn't want to steal your keys!"

It frightened Dick that that actually made sense.  "What am I going to do with you, Tad?"

"I've got some good ideas about that," Tad said, relaxing with a grin.

A grin crossed Dick's face too, "So do I."

A little while later, Tad wondered where things had gone wrong.  His idea had involved naked bodies and sexual pleasure, but somehow he had ended up spending the rest of the morning cleaning the apartment under the supervision of a man happily eating mushed-up muffins.  And there were still no doughnuts in the house!  Tomorrow morning, he decided, it was going to be Dick's turn to go out for breakfast.

"Okay, that'll do for now," Dick declared mouth still half full of blueberry muffin, "Here I saved you one."

Tad took the bag with one lone muffin in the bottom and slumped down wearily beside his friend, "Oh wow, thanks.  A whole muffin to myself?  You sure you don't have room for it?"

Dick made a grab for the bag, "Well, if you don't want it..."

"Go screw!" Tad chuckled before stuffing the muffin into his mouth and chewing noisily.

Laughing, Dick threw his arm around Tad's shoulders and pulled him in close, "You did a good job, the place looks great."

"Thanks, dude!" came the muffled reply.  Tad swallowed hard and looked up into Dick's face, "Hey Dick?"

"Hmm?"

"Man, I'm sorry if I fucked anything up for you."

"No, it's okay.  You couldn't make things any worse than they already are."  Dick hugged him tightly.  "But don't waste your time, Tad, Bruce is like a brick wall, you can't reason with him or push him around.  I've tried, believe me."

"What *is* his problem, man?  What's he so shit scared of?"

Dick gave a laugh, "Scared, Bruce?"

"Well it looks that way to me.  Why else would a guy run away from somebody like you?  I think he's got some serious 'fear' shit going on there!"

"Bruce just plays by different rules than the rest of us."

"Dick?"  Tad slid a hand up Dick's leg, resting on his thigh.  "The place is all clean now, right?"

"Yeah."

"An' we've done all the chores an' stuff?"

"Yeah."

"So, er, what now?"

"Training."

The smile dropped from Tad's face with almost comic timing.  "Training?"

"Yes.  You said that you wanted to learn how to be a 'hero' and it takes training, discipline and hard work."

"Oh man," the blonde man sighed, all hopes of a free and easy sexual interlude dashed.  "Have I gotta jump off buildings again?"

Dick resisted the urge to laugh.  "Probably, yeah."

"Looks like my ass is gonna get another bruisin'," Tad mumbled.

"That's okay, I'll kiss it better when we're through."

It was a good vantage point, easily accessible and you could see for miles.  You could also watch the rooftops where Nightwing was training that idiot boy, Batman thought angrily.

He'd come here with the intention of being alone with his thoughts; he needed time to think without the distractions of... without distractions.  Yet still he found himself purposefully looking for Nightwing, knowing that this was where he would bring that idiot to try to shape him into a fighter.

Like a crow carrying a restless soul back from the dead, Batman had swooped across the rooftops to perch here and simply watch.  Hunched against the still angry winds and the drizzling rain, his temper simmered as he saw Nightwing hug the boy for making a simple move that Robin could do in his sleep.

Resting his head back against the building momentarily, Batman tried to get a grip on the anger and resentment he was feeling.  He only had himself to blame, he was blindingly aware of that, but he could no longer be objective about Dick Grayson and his relationship with that young man, not after what he saw through the window.

'So, you shouldn't have been *looking*,' his voice of reason sneered, "Big bats who peek through other people's windows deserve to get shocks!'

Batman trembled with anger at the memory; he'd wanted so badly to burst in and stop them, pull Dick away and demand that he never touch another man.

But who was he to make demands?

He was the man who had hurt Dick Grayson to the very core of his being after the younger man had finally admitted his feelings.  He'd taken the love Dick offered and stamped it into the dust and yet here he was acting the part of the aggrieved and spurned lover.

'Bruce Wayne, you are the worst kind of fool,' the voice whispered again, 'you're the kind who never learns from your mistakes, so you become destined to repeat them.'

As a peal of laughter echoed through the air from the two men training below, Batman winced at the joy in the voices.

It was too late, Dick had fallen in love with...with...with a damned *moron*.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples through the mask.  How had he made such a mess of the most important relationship he'd ever had?

Batman cast a glance at the two figures now leaping from rooftop to rooftop, smiles on their faces and affectionate touches between them.  This was getting too difficult, he'd taken to following Dick wherever he went and had become little more than a stalker, watching and wanting but unable to touch.

It was time that he applied himself to other matters.  This city needed *Batman* not a lovelorn Bruce Wayne, floundering in his own self-pity.

Maybe it was time to shut Bruce Wayne away once and for all?

Landing with a sickening thud, Tad almost bounced along the rooftop.

"I told you to 'hold and leap', not the other way around."  Nightwing landed softly beside the prone figure.  "You okay?"

"Unghuf!" Tad replied as his sore, aching body screamed for mercy.

"Come on, I think we can call it a day.  You did really well!"

"*This* is *good*?" the younger man panted as he was helped to his feet.

"Yeah, you're doing really well.  You don't give up easily and you're learning about discipline."

"Dude, all I'm learning about is *pain*."

Nightwing smiled, "No pain, no gain," he chuckled, "Anyway, I'm proud of you."

Face flushed with a mixture of exertion and embarrassment, Tad flung himself into Nightwing's arms, "Thanks, man, that means a lot to me."

"Well, you're not Superman yet, but you're getting there."

"Oh now *there's* a dude I'd like to get to know, if you get what I mean?" Tad sniggered and bobbed his eyebrows.

"Really?"

"Oh yeah."

"He's a nice guy, but I never...well...you know, I never thought about..."  Nightwing smiled.

Tad's mouth dropped, "Never?"

"No."

"Wow.  Is he like, really tough?"

"Yeah, he's a big tough guy, but he has a soft side too," Nightwing laughed at Tad's awe stricken reaction.

"Man, I like 'em big.  The bigger they fall, the harder they come."

Thinking for a moment, Nightwing turned back to look at his partner, "Don't you have that the wrong way around?"

Sniggering, Tad let fly his lopsided grin, "Nope!"

Slapping the blonde playfully on the arm, Nightwing reeled in the lines they'd used and began to collect the equipment they'd brought with them.  Once again he looked around him, he'd been feeling uneasy for an hour or more now, but he couldn't quite pinpoint why.  It was almost as though someone was watching...

...Suddenly a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

"You head on home," he said as he handed Tad the equipment.  "I have something I need to do."

Before the younger man had muttered 'Sure dude', Nightwing was gone.

It never ceased to amaze him that the rooftops could be so silent when the city below was a dazzling mess of noise and confusion, Batman thought as he pondered his next move for the night.

He wasn't entirely surprised when he felt the presence of Nightwing appear on the roof behind him.  He'd been telling himself to move for what felt like hours, but the same kind of inexorable fascination for watching things that were distressing, that caused people to slow on the freeway to watch a car crash, had driven him to continue his vigil here on this lofty perch.

"Seen enough?" Nightwing asked with a voice devoid of accusation.

"Actually, I have."  And without turning around, Batman swung away, leaving Nightwing stunned and alone.

"God*damn*it!" Nightwing yelled.  'Oh, no you don't, *Batman*,' he added to himself, as he jumped off the roof and followed.

He chased Batman from building to building, keeping up with him almost effortlessly.  Years of training hadn't been wasted, after all.  In fact, he had a slight advantage...he was much more agile in the air, and loved the sensation of flying.  All he had to do was wait for a chance to make a move...

"Shit!"

Sometime during his self-satisfied musings, Batman had dropped off, and Nightwing found himself swinging after nothing.  He landed, did a quick, frantic search, just catching sight of something below that he was sure was Batman slipping into the shadows.  In a flash, he was back in pursuit, ending up at a darkened alley, and the unmistakable sight of Batman striding purposefully towards the Batmobile.  With a series of leaps and flips, Nightwing managed to get there at the same time.

Panting for breath, but more out of anger than fatigue, Nightwing confronted the man that haunted him in more ways than one.  "Running away, Batman?" he sneered.

"I said all I needed to say."

"Well, tough.  Because I didn't!"  Fury pushed him closer.  "What the fuck were you doing *watching* me?  And don't pretend like you just happened there by accident.  Are you *following* me now?  Why won't you just stay *out* of my *life*?"

"I wasn't watching *you*," Batman said, "I was just watching.  You happened to come along."

Pressing closer still, Nightwing snarled, "I don't believe you.  I know you're pissed.  Pissed that I'm not doing what *you* want me to do!  That I'm not sitting home alone pining because you laid down your great decision!"  With a harsh chuckle, he added, "And I can just imagine how you feel about Tad daring to get in your face about it.  But to *follow* me...."

"I wasn't following you...that wouldn't be the first time that I'd been there," Batman said, not even realizing that he had taken a step back.

Nightwing almost choked as the rest of his angry words got stuck somewhere in his throat.  He hadn't even been thinking about it... the reason why he knew that particular spot would work well for training.  Batman had taken him there plenty of times, especially in his early days as Robin.  With a sigh, he stumbled backwards until he was leaning against the Batmobile, suddenly tired of fighting.

"Why couldn't you just...we just..."  He didn't finish.  He knew *why*.  What was the point of going over it again?  The last thing he needed to hear were the same excuses explained in that same 'Batman knows best' tone.

"Are we done?"

That voice that he both loved and hated penetrated Nightwing's thoughts, irritating him again.  'Yeah, we are *so* done,' he said to himself, nodding in Batman's direction.  As the other man moved past him, he reached out, gripping a hard forearm with tense fingers.

"The stupidest thing about all of this has been that no matter what you say or do, you can't talk yourself out of how you feel about me, you can't analyze your way around it...it just *is*.  You laid down the law, but it didn't fix anything.  Now, you've made the rules...like always...so stick to them."  He let go of Batman's arm, and started to turn away.  "Look, I apologize for Tad dropping in on you.  It won't happen again.  And I don't think you want to come by my place unannounced anymore, either.  If it's urgent, you know how to get in touch with Nightwing."  Walking away before Batman could say anything to make the pain worse...not looking back so that he wouldn't be tempted to say something foolish...

It was minutes later, after the burn of Nightwing's hand on his arm had finally cooled and faded away, that Batman was able to make himself move to get into the Batmobile and head home.

The rain was coming down more heavily, but Batman barely noticed.  The storm raging inside his own head was so much worse.  A maelstrom of words and looks exchanged, of actions taken.  So much that had gotten out of control.  And he accepted total responsibility for the current state of it all.  Nightwing had been right: He *had* made the rules.  Declaring in no uncertain terms what could and could not be, what *should* and *should not* be.

And then, he had been the one to break them.  Foolishly sniffing around after the younger man like a lovesick puppy.  'I'm no better than that blond idiot,' Batman thought sourly.  Worse, actually, he decided, since obviously Tad made Dick happy.  And hadn't been relegated to lurking in the shadows spying like a common criminal.

The only saving grace was that Dick had no idea about the night before....  Lightning flashed, and for a minute he was back there, outside of that window, the image sharp and clear of Dick lost in the act of pleasuring a naked Tad...pleasuring him in a way that Bruce had never even let himself fantasize about.  His fingers tightened around the steering wheel, jaw clenched shut with tension, and he was suddenly hot and uncomfortable inside his Bat gear.

"Not now," he whispered, but that wasn't enough to stop the flights of fancy from dancing in his head.  He was no stranger to fantasy...but they were vague and simple things.  The touch of Dick's lips on him here...strong fingers there...his own mouth and hands reciprocating.  But, even more, was the laughter...sparkling bright in Dick's eyes and rumbling deep in his chest...touching Bruce deeply inside, tickling his nerves and making him feel alive.

A strong surge of desire wrapped in anger whipped through him.  Knowing that someone else was living that reality.  And only himself to blame.  Dick was actually playing by the rules, and even Batman wouldn't dare to add an amendment such as, 'And you can't have anyone else, either'.

With a sudden start, he realized that he had sped past the secret entrance to the Batcave.  He eased up the foot that had been pressing the gas pedal to the floor and he spun the Batmobile around in a fast U turn, tires squealing as he headed back, peering through the rain now sheeting on the windshield, despite the efforts of the wipers.  Just like his mind, he thought bitterly.  No matter how he tried to clear the treacherous feelings away, they kept returning with a vengeance.

Suddenly, the weather was cut off and he brought the car to a halt inside the Cave.  He breathed a sigh; almost relieved to be back...to be home...but that was short-lived.

"Hey!" Robin called out from where he sat at the Bat Computer's huge console.  "I was about to call you.  What do you think of this?"

It took more than the usual effort, but by the time he made it to stand by Robin's side; he had collected himself, mentally settling the mantle firmly in place on his shoulders.  After all, Gotham still needed him, and it didn't matter what was going on in Bruce Wayne's little world, Batman's night was just beginning.

"Shit!  Where you been, man?  You're all wet!" Tad exclaimed, looking up from where he was lounging on the couch, eating something out of a bowl.  His hair was damp, and he had a towel around him, but it had fallen open in his lap.

Dick glared and, as soon as the door closed, began shedding his costume, letting it stay where it landed soaked on the floor.  "That's probably because it's *raining*!" he snarled harshly, not answering the question.  Then mumbled, "Sorry," at the hurt look in Tad's eyes.  But he deliberately ignored the spark of desire that flashed as Tad's gaze roamed over his naked body, and the subsequent pout as Tad realized he was being disregarded.  With a sigh, he went into the bathroom.

He forced himself not to yell when he tripped over a pile of wet towels left on the floor, he just turned on the shower as hot as he could stand it, and got under the spray, trying to let it ease his tension.  But it didn't work.  Thoughts ran through his head no matter how he tried to stop them.  How he had acted like an idiot...jumping to conclusions about Batman, chasing after him...god, he still couldn't believe he had done that...especially knowing that it wouldn't do any good to talk to him...letting his anger make him act like a stupid kid.  Getting all worked up just to see Batman stand there calmly taking it in.  Fine.  What's done is done, and when it's over, it's over.

The sudden feel of strong hands on his shoulders startled him.  He had been so lost in his misery that he hadn't noticed Tad joining him.  And though he felt he owed his friend an apology, he *really* wasn't in the mood...

"Tad, I..."

The hands worked his shoulders, loosening the knots, then moved up, massaging his neck, easing some of the tightness.  Then, they were at his temples, rubbing away the pain beating there.  There was a short pause, and his hair was lathered, fingers making slow circles on his scalp, until he finally felt himself relaxing.  Water rinsed away the suds, and he was sure that he could feel the tension run off his body as well.  Before he could do anything else, a large palm smacked him wetly on the ass, and Tad left him alone again.  He finished washing quickly, unable to keep a tiny smile from his face.

The smile slipped when he got out of the shower and noticed that Tad had evidently taken the *last* clean, dry towel, but he only shook his head, not in the mood for any more conflict.  With water dripping down his muscled body, he stepped over the pile of towels *still* on the floor, and went in search of Tad, finding him face down on the bed, snoring.  He stepped on another towel, and noting that it was fairly dry, all else considered, he picked it up and rubbed himself roughly, chuckling softly as he let it fall back to the floor.  As he got closer, he sucked in a breath at the condition of Tad's body.  The blond was indeed bruised, several colorful spots showing up on his ass among other places.  Kneeling beside him, Dick bent his head to make good on his earlier promise, placing a kiss on the firm, rounded flesh.  When Tad stirred, lifting his head to blink blearily over his shoulder, Dick renewed his attentions, and found he was in the mood, after all.

The middle of the night, the middle of a storm, high on a rooftop, Nightwing stood, watching, waiting; though he wouldn't admit it.  The sex with Tad had been wild and fun, but afterwards he had only felt more wired, physically tired, but mentally restless.  To the sound of Tad's rasping snores, he had suited up, slipped out of the apartment, and gone out on patrol, but he hadn't been able to scare up even a minor skirmish that needed his attention.  It was as if the rain had driven all of the bad guys off of the streets for the night.  And he had found himself standing on the same rooftop where he had confronted Batman earlier, with rain lashing at him, though he welcomed the harsh spray.  It matched his mood...no matter what he said or what he did; he couldn't seem to really let it go.  His own words came back to haunt him: 'You can't talk yourself out of how you feel...it just *is*'...

Scowling, he swung off the building and headed home, cursing the fact that there wasn't a major crime spree going on to take his mind off things.

The next morning, there was another break in the rain, but the skies were still gray.  It made the sight of Wayne Manor seem ominous as Dick parked his motorcycle out front.  With the promise of doughnuts and no more training that day, he had left Tad, telling him to rest until he got back.  He rang the doorbell, ignoring the fluttering inside him, and tried to reassure himself that he wasn't doing anything wrong.  After his little 'talk' with Batman the night before, it seemed inappropriate to just show up unannounced, but he had wanted to explain some things to Tim, and he wasn't sure how Bruce would feel about that.

When the door opened, Dick smiled at the look on Alfred's face.

"Master Dick!" the old man grinned in surprise.  "Looking for more muffins so soon?"

"I'd walk over coals for those babies, Alfred," Dick said as he stepped inside, giving Alfred a hug.  "But that's not why I'm here."

"Oh, well, Master Bruce is...downstairs."

'The Bat is out early,' Dick thought, but only said, "Actually, I need to speak to Tim.  And to tell you I'm sorry, I've been so scarce."

"No need for apologies, I simply like to see that you're taking care of yourself," Alfred said, eyeing Dick critically.  "And Master Tim is still in bed, I believe.  I was going to call him as soon as breakfast was ready."

"Well, I'll save you the trouble.  I'll just go on up."

"Will you be staying to eat as well?"

Dick gave Alfred a quick glance as he turned towards the staircase.  "Um...no, I don't think so.  Probably not a good idea, and I have...uh...someone waiting for me."

"Oh.  Ah, yes.  The young fellow from yesterday.  Well then, perhaps you'd like to take something home with you?"

"That would be a definite yes, Alfred."

"Very well," Alfred said, heading off in the direction to the kitchen.  "Tell Master Tim to be down in twenty minutes."

"Will do," Dick said, moving quickly up the stairs.

He passed down corridors until he came to Tim's bedroom.  Knocking softly, he opened the door and poked his head in.

"Hey, Timbo..." he started, and was greeted with a hissed curse as Tim jumped in surprise, and something went flying out all over the room.

"Shit, haven't you ever heard of *privacy*, man?"

Laughing, Dick went into the room, closing the door behind him.  "Sorry, kid, I thought you were asleep.  Does Alfred know you have that up here?" he asked, nodding pointedly at the bright red cereal box that Tim was trying unsuccessfully to hide behind his back.

Tim stared at him with a 'Duh, of course not' look on his face.

"You have twenty minutes to clean that up and get downstairs with an appetite."

Munching the bits of cereal in easy reach, Tim replied, "No problem.  I'm a growing boy...I have plenty of appetite.  Now, you have two minutes to tell me why you're barging into my room."  Eyes narrowing at Dick, he added, "Does this mean training's off again?"

"About that..."

"Aw man... come on.  I promise I won't goof off and try to get you to play video games with me.  Bruce has been cranky a lot lately.  I need a *break*."

"Tim, listen.  I'm not cutting off the sessions.  I look forward to them," he said with a smile.  "But I have...uh...a friend over this weekend.  Well, actually, I think it'll be for much longer, but it was unexpected, and I'm sorry I wasn't able to give you a little advance notice."

"A 'friend', huh?"

Looking into Tim's eyes, Dick confessed, "I'm...um...seeing somebody."

Tim nodded a little.  "A 'guy' somebody?"

"Uh...yeah."

"And you thought I was going to freak out about it or something?  I told you I was cool with it."

"No, I just didn't want you to walk in on the situation without me telling you about it first.  Besides, you said you were cool with how I felt about...Bruce."

"And you don't feel that way about him anymore?"

Deciding that he didn't want to go there, Dick said, "It's way more complicated than that, Tim."

Tim rolled his eyes, thinking that being a teenager was bad enough, but being a teenager *and* a costumed crime-fighter...what could be more complicated than *that*?  "Wait...this has to do with that guy who was up here yesterday on your bike, right?"

"You eavesdropping in the hallways again, kid?"

"Hey!  Don't call me kid!" Tim said, throwing some cereal in Dick's direction.  "And I wasn't eavesdropping, in fact I only saw the guy drive off."  He crossed his arms, frowning.  "Bruce and Alfred made me wax the limo."  Throwing more cereal when Dick smirked.  "But Bruce had already been in a mood and after that..."

"Sorry about that.  Bruce..."

"Bruce is an idiot," Tim said knowingly, touching Dick briefly on the arm.

Chuckling, Dick said, "Well, don't let *him* hear you say that.  You'll be spending extra hours working on your hand to hand combat training."  Laughing as Tim wrinkled his face up in disgust.  "But, thanks for being so cool.  And I'll see you next Saturday, bright and early.  And you know that I won't be indulging this little habit of yours anymore, right?"  Dick pointed towards the mess of crumbs on Tim's bed.

"Aw man..."

"You better clean that up, and get downstairs before Alfred comes looking for you."

Dick found himself laughing again as Tim jumped out of bed, and started trying to collect the spilled cereal, stuffing it back in the box.

And, he thought, it was typical of his life lately that he couldn't get away clean.  When he stepped into the hallway, he barely missed colliding into Bruce Wayne... obviously just coming from a workout.  He was shirtless, a towel draped around his neck, sweat dripping down his chest with his hair hanging damply around his face.

For a few seconds, Dick just stared.

"Bruce," he nodded brusquely in the big man's general direction.

"Dick."

"I er, I just came to see Tim, hope that's okay?"  Dick glanced up at Bruce's unusually haggard face.

"Of course it's 'okay', this is still your home," Bruce hissed, barely containing the anger behind the words.

Dick looked startled; it was rare to see such a blatant example of emotional display from Bruce Wayne, master of the tight lip and the jutting jaw.

"I just thought, after..."

"This will *always* be your home, and you will always be welcome here, no matter what occurs between us.  If you don't understand that by now, then I've really achieved *nothing* with you, have I?"  Bruce turned and began to walk away, towards his bedroom at the far end of the corridor.

"Bruce, wait," Dick followed him, stopping short of the door, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by that.  I know this is my home, and you and Alfred will always be my family.  I'm *sorry*, for everything that's happened.  If I could turn back time and put it all right I would.  If I could go back to that night I told you I loved you and prevent all of this, I'd do it in a second, but I can't, just as I can't stop loving you.  Do you really think I want us to be like this?"

Bruce pulled the towel from around his neck, wiping the sweat from his brow.  "No, I'm sure that a great deal of the hurt involved here is yours, Dick, and if I've caused that then...I'm sorry."

How could this man make him feel this way after all that had happened, Dick thought as his eyes stung and his stomach fluttered.  "You feeling okay, Bruce?  You look a little tired," he asked trying to change the subject and regain his composure.

"Late night on patrol," Bruce grumbled.

"Me too."

"And I didn't sleep well."

"Me neither," Dick looked up, straight into Bruce's eyes.  What he saw shook him to his core; himself reflected back, the same stubborn streak, the same determined insistence that he was right and the world was wrong and the same soul destroying sadness.  "Bruce, about yesterday, I'm sorry, I..."

"I know, we're both behaving immaturely over this," Bruce fidgeted with his towel, something more obviously on the tip of his tongue, "We need to talk, Dick.  Not argue; just talk rationally about everything.  We can't go on this way..."

Suddenly the door down the corridor opened and Tim burst out, "Morning Bruce!  Hey Dick, you staying for breakfast?"

Mood shattered, Bruce slipped on the 'Bat' face, "Good morning Tim, you'd better hurry, you're running late."

"No pipsqueak, I can't stay I have to get home," Dick smiled.

"Aww..." Tim beamed at the two men before galloping down the corridor at breakneck speed and sliding down the stair rail.

Dick began to laugh.  "I used to do that!"

"Yes, you did," Bruce's face cracked into a smile.

"And you always got on my case about it, how come he gets away so lightly?"

"Because I expected more from you, I suppose," Bruce placed his hand on Dick's shoulder.  "I know I was always hard on you, Dick, but I always felt it was for your own good."

"I know that now, but it didn't feel that way at the time," Dick touched the hand briefly before pulling away.  "I'd better go, Tad will be waiting."

"You still have that idiot 'staying' with you then?"  Bruce's voice was almost sneering, and Dick's hackles raised immediately.

"Yeah, you have a problem with that?"

"You know my problem with that, he's dangerous."

"So it has nothing to do with jealousy?" Dick sneered as Bruce's face darkened.

"It has to do with concern for you, and maybe if you get down off that high moral seat you've just taken again, you'd see that."

"I'll tell you what I see, Bruce.  I see a man who can't or won't face his feelings, who doesn't want 'society' to think he's a fucking *queer*, but he doesn't want *me*, the object of his 'perverted' desires, to be happy either.  Well I'm through hanging around pining after you, Bruce, get used to the idea!"

Dick stormed away leaving Bruce stinging.
 
 

A week later.

"Tad?" Dick yelled, "Did you finish all of the milk again?"

A loud snore echoed from the bedroom and Dick felt his blood begin to boil.  While Tad was a fun partner and an entertaining bedmate, he was also lazy and selfish to a degree that Dick was unaccustomed.  Growing up in the shadow of the Bat had meant that manners and 'doing the right thing' were of the utmost importance, and creeping out of bed in the middle of the night to drink all the milk in the damned place did *not* qualify as either.

Just as Dick considered taking a pitcher of ice water back into the bedroom and dumping it all over Tad's sorry ass, the phone rang.

"Yeah?" Dick barked.

"Master Dick?  This is Alfred; I'm afraid I'm in a little trouble and require your help, Sir.  Would it be convenient for you to come to the house today?"

"Alfred, is everything okay?  Are you okay?  Is it Bruce?"  Dick's heart leaped into his throat.

"Master Bruce is quite well, sir and I am suitably healthy.  I just need to speak to you.  If you could come to the back entrance, through the garage, around six this evening?"

Dick held on to the phone tightly, "Sure, I'll be there.  Are you sure you're okay?"

"Perfectly, Master Dick.  Goodbye."

Replacing the phone, Dick's mind raced, what could be so wrong that Alfred would call him and ask him to go home that way?

'Home'.  Yes, despite everything he still looked at Wayne Manor as his home.

Feeling more than a little unsettled, Dick began to tidy up the catastrophic mess that Tad had left the night before.  Take out carriers strewn across the table, beer cans tossed haphazardly at the trashcan, almost always missing it, and porn magazines lying on the floor.  Only when Dick's foot slid on something wet and slippery as he re-entered the bedroom and he discovered a used condom squelched between his toes, did he finally crack.

"Tad!" he bellowed into the blonde's ear, "Wake up and get this place cleaned up or I swear I will toss your sorry ass out buck naked!"

"Uh...Dick, just cool it, dude, turn down the volume, huh?"

"No, I won't.  You're treating my home like a flophouse and I'm not taking much more.  Today we go look for a new place for you, even if *I* have to pay the first months rent!"  Dick was tingling with rage, "Now you have two minutes to get out of bed and be dressed before I come in and drag you out!"

Tad rolled over and stretched, rubbing his hand playfully over his morning erection.  "Hey Dick, it's a shame to waste this, man!" he grinned, spreading his legs slightly.

"No Tad, not this morning, I mean it about the mess, I can't handle any more.  I'm going grocery shopping and this place had better be clean when I get back."

Dick grabbed his leather jacket from the chair and slammed out of the apartment.

Arms laden with bags, Dick braced himself as he opened the door to his place.  He had cooled off considerably, but just the idea of facing the wreckage inside his apartment was enough to make him sigh.  When he closed the door behind him and looked around, he almost dropped the bags to the floor.  The place was spotless... well, maybe not *spotless*, but Tad had definitely been on a cleaning binge, putting the kind of effort into it that was usually reserved for when Dick was standing over him.

In the kitchen, the sink was clear of dirty dishes, and the trash was all picked up.  Dick set the bags down and automatically went to the dishwasher, knowing that Tad might have loaded it up, but usually forgot to actually turn it on.  After hanging up his jacket, he put the groceries away, eating a bowl of cereal while standing over the counter, then he grabbed a box that he had left out and went in search of his wayward roommate.

The living room was also clear of dirty clothes and other debris, though a few magazines were still scattered about, most noticeably was the one lying on the couch open to a centerfold.  Dick chuckled at that, Tad said the big, muscular man pictured sporting a giant erection had to be about what Superman looked like naked.

'That means he's probably somewhere jerking off,' Dick thought.

He passed by the bathroom, which was relatively neat, especially considering that it had obviously just been in use, with damp towels on the rack, but none on the floor.  Moving into the bedroom, Dick found Tad lying on the bed, wearing a pair of shorts and reading a motorcycle magazine.  A laundry basket full of clothes was on the floor near the bed, and another pile of clothes was lying next to it, which meant that Tad had separated the clothes but hadn't actually *washed* them.  'Probably a *good* thing,' Dick smirked to himself.  The bed was made, though remembering the night before, Dick was sure that the sheets on it were in need of washing.

"Hey," Dick said, "the place looks good."

Tad looked up, smiling uncertainly.  "Thanks.  Sorry about before."

"I'm sorry, too.  I haven't been in a good mood lately, and I shouldn't take it out on you."

"So, does that mean that you aren't kicking me out?"

Dick smiled.  "Here," he said, tossing a box onto the bed.

With a stricken look on his face, Tad looked from the box to Dick.  "You're giving me *doughnuts*?  Shit, you *are* kicking me out, aren't you?  And trying to soften the blow?"

Rolling his eyes, Dick moved to the bed.  "No, I'm not kicking you out, but we have to establish some ground rules as long as you're staying here with me."  He chuckled as Tad ripped open the package of powdered sugar doughnuts.  "First rule," he said, with a shake of his head, "no crumbs in the bed."

Breaking a doughnut in half, taking a big bite, sending white powder sprinkling down on his chest, Tad grinned.  "Well, maybe you should come lick them up, and help me not break that rule."

Unable to help himself, Dick grinned back.  "But, I don't like doughnuts," he said as he pulled off his shirt and dropped down next to Tad.

"Okay," Tad said, licking his fingers and scooping up the sugar from his chest, eyes twinkling as he deliberately caressing one of his nipples in the process.  He moved over Dick's stretched-out body with the rest of his doughnut.  "I'll do the cleaning up."  He took another bite, careful to make more of a mess than necessary with the crumbs and sugar as they fell onto Dick's chest.

Dick let himself relax and enjoy the feel of Tad's tongue, the slurping and sucking attention paid to his body in the name of 'cleaning up'.  He needed the distraction so that he wouldn't obsess over whatever the hell was going on at Wayne Manor that had Alfred seeking his help.

Dick pulled up to the garage entrance to the mansion and before he was out of his car, the door opened and Alfred was standing there beckoning him inside.

"Hey, Alfred, what's going on?"

"I'm sorry to call you on such short notice, Master Dick, but I'm afraid only you can help me with this."

"No problem, Alfred, but what is it?"

"Let's...ah....  Let's go somewhere where we can talk without the benefit of a certain little eavesdropper."

"Okay, lead the way.  Where's Bruce?"

"He's...tied up with a matter at present."

Dick followed Alfred down a series of hallways until they came to the library, going into the bookcase-lined room filled with rare editions.

"Alfred, tell me..."

"Shh..."  Alfred raised a finger to his lips.  "Just a minute, Master Dick."

Alfred stepped over to a door that Dick knew led to a storage area for volumes that Bruce kept specially protected and didn't want out on the shelves.  As a boy, he'd played in nearly every room of the mansion, and he had, on more than one occasion, used the repository as a hideaway.  The library was usually the last place Alfred had looked for him.  Alfred opened the door, and motioned him inside.

"Alfr--"  Dick found himself pushed inside, and heard the door lock behind him.  He whipped around to look in shock at the door, and then whirled around when he heard a noise further in the room, only to find Bruce in the corner on the floor with his hands tied behind his back.  They gaped at each other in surprise.

Alfred turned the corner from the library and found Tim waiting for him.

"We better hope this works, Master Tim, or else we're in--"

"Deep shit," Tim said, laughing.

"Watch your language, Master Tim!" Alfred scolded, muttering under his breath, "Deep shit, indeed," as he followed the young man back to the kitchen.

"Tim asked me to help him with some rescue techniques," Bruce said with a glare.

Laughing loudly, Dick said, "And you *fell* for that?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow, staring pointedly.

"Hey, I was helping Alfred out with some trouble... okay, I get your point."

"You *could* offer to untie me... Tim's gotten rather good with his knots."

With a smirk on his face, Dick crossed his arms.  "Well, first, you said we needed to talk rationally about things, and not argue, so here's your chance.  What have you got to say for yourself?"

"What have *I* got to say for myself?" Bruce huffed.

"Yeah," Dick crossed his arms and leaned against the doorpost.

For a moment the two men merely stared at each other, neither wanting to be the first one to back down.  Reluctantly, after a few moments, Dick strolled over and began to untie his hapless partner.

Bruce rubbed at his wrists and ankles, and muttered something that Dick didn't quite catch.  "Remind me to schedule Tim a little more running and weight training," he grimaced as the blood flowed back into his pale, tingling fingers.

"Tim hates running and weight training."

"Oh?  How sad."

Dick laughed out loud; it was rare for Bruce to be so transparently vindictive, but he did have his moments.  "So Bruce, what do we do now?"

"Break the damned door down."  Bruce stamped across the room and tried the handle.

"Come on, Bruce, I know all of this is a bit melodramatic, but do you really think they'd have done it if we hadn't been acting like complete jerks?"

"It's none of their business!"

"The hell it isn't, they're our *family*.  If they don't care enough to tell us when we're acting like moody teenagers, who will?"

Bruce turned around and glared.  "*I* am not acting like a 'moody teenager'."

"No, I don't think you've made it out of the childhood tantrum stage yet!"

"*You* are calling *me* childish?"

Dick crossed his arms defiantly, "Yes, the way you're behaving over Tad is 'childish'."

"Oh, I knew we'd get back to that idiot."

"You see, you can't even talk about things without getting pissy!"

"I am not getting pissy!"

The roar almost shook the books from the shelves and left Dick smirking.

"I rest my case."

Bruce sighed and dropped into a chair, waiting for Dick to sit down opposite him before he spoke again.  "I'm sorry, Dick.  I never meant for this to get so out of hand, and I never realized for a moment that I'd feel so strongly about you having a relationship with another man."

"Is that what it is, you don't like me dating guys?"

Bruce rubbed his face and groaned; this was so difficult for him.  "Do you love him?" he asked finally.

"Tad?  I like him a lot, he's a nice guy..."

"Do you *love* him?"

Dick paused for a moment, "No, I'm not 'in love' with him.  But I'm not sleeping with him to hurt *you* either.  We're just hanging out together."

"You'll have to excuse me on that one, Dick.  For me, 'hanging out' with someone always conjures up visions of spending time with chums, seeing movies or playing pool, not having sex!"

He wasn't sure why, but Dick found that insanely funny, almost choking on the laugh that burst its way out.

Bruce sighed deeply, "Yes, I know it's terribly old fashioned, but I am.  I'm a dinosaur, and I don't think I can change."

"I don't want you to change, Bruce.  I love the man that you are, but we can't go on this way, snapping and biting at each other, because we're both unhappy.  Bruce, if you're sure that things can never be any different between us then just say so now.  Tell me that you'll never be able to love me as anything but a 'son', and I'll walk away and never mention it again, but just don't think that you can hang around and ruin every relationship I have because you don't 'like' it!"

Bruce rested his head back on the high-backed chair, closing his eyes for a moment and taking a calming breath.  "Dick Grayson, I love you more than any other person alive.  It wasn't easy for me to accept that my feelings towards you changed after you returned and took your place as Nightwing, but they had.  I didn't want to believe that I could possibly have sexual feelings for you, I swear on my life that I *never* thought of you that way as a boy."

"I never thought you did, Bruce.  Is *that* what's been bothering you?"

"Yes, that and other things.  I thought that if I tried to ignore my feelings, suppress the way I felt, I could cope.  It's not like I haven't had long enough to practice suppressing my emotions."  Bruce gave an ironic half-smile.  "But when you stood there that night and told me that you loved me, it was like you suddenly crashed through my defenses and left me wide open.  When it was a one sided obsession it was my own 'dirty little secret', and I could live with it, but I just couldn't handle you saying those things, putting my innermost thoughts into words.  That's why I lashed out at you, why I pushed you away.  I'm so sorry, Dick."

Biting on his lip, Dick leaned forward in his seat, "That's why you got so angry about Tad?"

"Partly.  But I have a confession, and I'll understand if you're angry, even if you don't want to speak to me again."

"Shit, that bad?"  Dick's eyes opened impossibly wide.

"Yes.  I invaded your privacy in the worst way and the guilt has been sending me insane.  The other night, when the storm was at its worst, I was on the rooftops checking that everything was quiet; but even Gotham's villains aren't stupid enough to be out in that weather.  I came to your building and decided to check up on you, make sure you were okay.  I often glance through your window just to see you..." Bruce's face flushed a deep crimson, "But that night, you were with Tad."

Face dropping in almost comic book horror, Dick spluttered, "Fuck!"  Flushing hotly, he leaped to his feet and turned away, trying to calm himself.  "So, you saw more than you bargained for, huh?"

"Yes.  What was worse was that I felt angry and betrayed and I wanted to leap through the window and stop you.  Then afterwards I just felt guilty and foolish, but I couldn't let it go.  I wasn't able to forget how badly I wanted to hurt him for being with you.  Dick, I know this all makes me a terrible hypocrite..."

"No Bruce, it makes you a Peeping Tom!" Dick snapped back.

"Yes, I know and I understand why you're angry, but I thought I should tell you."

Turning back to face Bruce, Dick's expression was a mixture of anger and embarrassment.  "How long did you watch?  Did you stay for the whole show?"

"I was only there for a moment, not that it excuses anything."

"No, it damned well doesn't!"

"Dick, I. AM. SORRY."

"You're 'sorry', yeah, you're always sorry."

"Dick?"  Bruce's face betrayed the pain he was feeling.

It would have been so easy to have said nothing, but that wasn't the Bruce
Wayne way and Dick knew it.  He was angry at having a trust betrayed, and very embarrassed at having been seen engaged in sweaty sex with Tad, but
Dick knew how terribly hard it all must have been for Bruce, too.  He could imagine the sleepless nights that the big man had suffered wrestling with his conscience, dreading the moment that he would have to admit to his indiscretion, but knowing that he must tell the truth, eventually.

Dick sighed and ran his hand across his hair, "Yeah, well, I guess that what's done is done, huh?"

"Can you forgive me?"

"After what we've been through?  Bruce, I have forgiven you *so* much more than that.  I once told you that I'd die for you... nothing's changed."

Pushing back his chair, Bruce climbed to his feet and moved in close, wrapping his arms around the younger man, pulling him into his chest.  "I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you, Dick."

Resting his head on Bruce's ample chest, Dick laughed, "I was just going to ask you what we were doing when you saw us, but I think that's more information than I need, so I won't bother."

"No, best you don't," Bruce tucked his face into Dick's hair as they stood unmoving and silent for a few moments.  Relieved and satisfied at how things had gone, finally he straightened up, his hands on Dick's shoulders as he looked into the younger man's eyes, feeling a slow flood of emotion that he recognized as happiness.  "So, ready to go now?"

"No," Dick answered, his eyes dark and serious, "I think that was just round one."  Resolutely, he sat back down in his chair.

Caught off guard, Bruce could only stare, and then he sat as well.

"Do you really think that everything's settled now, Bruce?"

Though he had thought that very thing, Bruce knew instinctively that 'yes' would be the wrong answer.  "Well..."

"You've said that you love me, but what are you willing to do about it?  I think it's obvious that we can't go back to how we were.  So, where does that leave us?"

Reluctantly, Bruce admitted to himself that he hadn't thought that far ahead.  He had been focused more on getting past the hostility that had plagued them.  It crossed his mind that fighting villains was so much simpler.  Finally, he said, "You tell me.  You're...seeing someone else at the moment."

Dick didn't waste time getting upset at the familiar turn in conversation, considering Bruce did have a point, and he *would* handle the situation with Tad, but there were things he needed to know from Bruce.  "Can you forget about Tad for a minute, and answer my question?"

Bruce would gladly have forgotten *all* about Tad...wished he knew of a way to erase certain images from his memory, and could only cling hopefully to the fact that Dick had stated that he wasn't in love with the blond.  So, if he put that aside, where *did* it leave them?  "I..."

"Yes?"

"I...I don't know."

"You don't *know*?  You've been lurking around, following me, pitching jealous fits all for 'you don't know'?  Come on, Bruce!"

One deep breath later.  "I want you to come home."

It hadn't been what Dick expected to hear, or what he had *wanted* to hear, but, god, it struck him so deeply that he almost didn't notice when Bruce kept on speaking.

"You're wrong when you say that I care about 'society' and Bruce Wayne being viewed as a homosexual.  While I would prefer my private life to remain private, as a man with an enormous amount of money, Bruce Wayne has always been fodder for the gossip columns.  As long as 'Bruce Wayne, billionaire' remains an effective cover, that's all that matters on that score."

"Which brings us to another matter...Batman."

Directly on cue, Dick watched the mask settle as if by magic on Bruce's face, and he felt that sick feeling of anger and frustration that he always felt when Bruce pulled his disappearing act.

"Batman is not up for discussion."  The mask, the voice... the Bat.

But since they'd gotten that far, Dick forged ahead.  "Yes, Bruce, yes he is.  Because too many times when I need to talk to Bruce Wayne, Batman shows up.  And you could whip out a ring, get on one knee, and propose to me at the Annual Wayne Foundation Charity Ball, but if Batman keeps popping up every time things get rough, then we're going nowhere."

The mask cracked, and on shaky legs, Bruce got to his feet, turning away from Dick's relentless gaze.  His whole life consisted of Batman coming out when things got 'rough'...there was no other way.

Dick followed, standing close behind.  "Bruce, I'm not questioning Batman's role of taking care of this city, and Nightwing will go toe to toe with him on issues that concern that, but when it comes to who sleeps in Dick Grayson's bed... well, I don't intend to have lover's quarrels with Batman."

It felt like it was suddenly too warm in the little room, though Bruce knew that wasn't likely.  The air was maintained by electronic climate control, but he was sweating just the same.  Maybe from fear, maybe from desire, maybe from being *this* close to something he had spent years telling himself that he couldn't...and *shouldn't* have.  Yet, it felt so easy to turn around...though not as easy to form the words.

"I want you to come home...to be with me.  I don't want you to see anyone else--man or woman.  I don't know the first thing about how to make it work, but I want to try.  But you have to understand that Bruce Wayne *is* Batman.  The image of 'Bruce Wayne' that society sees is just that--an image.  I've never been that man here in private.  I can leave the costume in the Cave, but the rest is all me."

"Bruce, I don't hate Batman...but I love *you*.  I'm not expecting you to play the carefree playboy with me, but I don't want every argument to turn into me facing down the unreachable man behind the mask, either."

"You reached me," Bruce said, so quietly Dick almost missed it.

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"So, where does that leave us?"

"Here...for a start."

"Yeah, for a start."

It had to be the most shocking thing Dick had ever felt...kissing Bruce for the first time.  He'd had dreams, of course, both sleeping and awake, and they had always been powerfully erotic and sexually charged visions of taking each others' mouths.  But, when Bruce's eyes blazed with a light he'd never seen, and that wonderfully familiar face bent closer to his, and their lips touched, Dick felt the jolt in his heart, capturing him in ways he had never imagined.  It was a gentle exploration that was in such contrast to the feel of the hard body he was suddenly grabbing onto, and the strong hands finally holding onto him.  Tongues meeting so slowly, despite the frantic pounding of his heart and blood rushing through his veins.  And it didn't last nearly long enough considering how very long he had been waiting for the moment.  'But it's just the start,' he told himself, when the kiss came to a sweet, hot end.

"Okay, I'm good," Dick said, smiling into Bruce's face, and was rewarded with a smile in return.  "How about we take this elsewhere?"

They stepped away from each other, both with silly, slightly embarrassed, charmingly unsure looks on their faces.  Outside that door lay...the future, and it looked incredibly different than it had just a few hours earlier.

"You know," Bruce was saying as he stepped past Dick going towards the door, "it works out perfectly.  You move back here, and your...friend, Tad, can have your place.  I'll help with payments until he gets himself together, if you like.  Maybe I can look into..."  His voice trailed off as he realized that Dick hadn't moved.  "What is it?" he asked, puzzled, and with a sudden feeling of dread.

"Bruce," Dick said with a sigh, "I think we're about to have round three."  And with that he sat down once more.

Dick watched with fascination as the changes came over Bruce's face.  The inevitable blankness as he tried to close himself off, the struggle as he tried to control it, then, haltingly settling into an expression of confused hurt.  Dick wanted to kiss him for that alone.

"You're not going to stop seeing...that...that..."  Bruce stopped before he said something he might regret.

"No," Dick said, "I mean, yes, I know I have to take care of things with Tad, but, no, I'm not moving back here."

"I see."

Dick flinched from the tone, but didn't let it stop him.  "No, I don't think you do.  It has nothing to do with us.  Well, it has to do with how we used to be.  I need to keep my own space, Bruce.  You cast a large shadow, and I've spent a lot of time making sure that I didn't end up living in it.  It doesn't change how I feel about you, or what I want, but you have to be willing to accept that.  It's important to me, Bruce."

"Fine."

"I can give you time to think about it," Dick said wearily, noting that Bruce sounded anything but 'fine'.

"I don't need to think about it, Dick, I'm willing to accept your condition.  But don't be upset because you can tell that I'm not pleased.  You asked for this...emotion.  Trust me, it would be far easier for me to keep it to myself."

'Touché,' Dick thought.  "No, you're right, I'm sorry."  He got up, needing to reassure, wanting a bit of reassurance in return.  When he was standing next to Bruce, he touched the older man's face until the expression softened.  "I love you...I'm in love with you."

"I've often thought that you didn't always show the best judgment."

Dick's eyes flashed hotly, until he noticed the twinkle in Bruce's eyes, the slight twitch of Bruce's mouth.  It made him laugh.  "Yeah, who else but a crazy, irrational person would fall in love with you?"

Bruce swallowed Dick's laughter with a kiss, quick but thorough, leaving Dick breathless.

"So, *now* can we go?" Bruce asked, surprised to find his hand still cupping Dick's neck, his fingers buried in the silky strands of Dick's hair.  Pleased that it was finally okay.

"Sure, but do you really want to break this door down?"

"No need."  Bruce went to a nearby bookcase and picked up something from the corner of the middle shelf, and held it up.

"A key?  You bastard," Dick said, but he was grinning, "You could have gotten us out of here all along?"

"You used to play here when you were a child...hide out sometimes when you wanted to be alone.  I was afraid you might accidentally lock yourself in, so I planted a key here.  Actually, I had forgotten about it at first," Bruce said, letting them out into the library proper, then returning the key to its hiding place.  "I suppose we really did need the opportunity to talk."

"Yeah," Dick said, "so, why don't we go thank the co-conspirators."

"This might not be what they had in mind."

"I think it's what *everybody* had in mind, Bruce, and wait until you see what *I* have in mind for later."

Bruce actually blushed, but that didn't stop him from asking, "And that would be?"

"Fun, Bruce, lots and lots of fun!"  Unable to stop his laughing as he pushed Bruce from the room.

They were quiet as they walked to the kitchen, guessing that Tim and Alfred would be biding their time there, but just before they turned the last corner, Dick stopped, halting Bruce with a hand on his arm.

"I just want you to know that I will clear up things with Tad.  He's known all along that I'm in love with you, but he's my responsibility, and I'll help him get settled somewhere, soon.  Do you trust me until that happens?"  Trying not to tense up as he waited for an answer.  Feeling more than relief when Bruce finally nodded.  "Good."

Dick just stared at him then, mind running wild with fantasies that finally seemed about to come true.  "But there is one thing you can do for me."

"What's that?"

"Think you could get Superman to fly over for a visit?"

"Superman?"

Dick pulled and started them walking again, chuckling softly.  "Yeah, I'll tell you about it later, but get a message to him when you get a chance."

Bruce agreed with a shrug.  He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but Clark was a big boy... he was on his own.

They entered the kitchen, both stifling grins at the looks of surprise from Tim and Alfred, who were setting the table.

"So, is dinner ready, Alfred?" Bruce asked, going over to the stove to lift the lid off one large pot, ignoring the twin sighs of relief from across the room.

"Yes, Master Bruce, just...ah...waiting for you two."

Bruce nodded, taking a place at the table, purposely not looking at Dick, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep a straight face.  But, when he finally did steal a sidelong glance at Dick, the gaze the younger man was leveling at him, didn't make him want to smile at all...instead he found himself thinking about 'fun'.

Tim sat wide-eyed and open-mouthed throughout dinner, staring back and forth between Dick and Bruce.  Stunned speechless that things seemed to have turned out okay after all...no grim lecture from Bruce about meddling, no Dick storming from the Manor...no noticeable bruises on either one.  Damn, he wished he had thought to bug that room...what he wouldn't give to know what had gone on.

From the counter where he stood, putting the finishing touches on a special dessert, Alfred watched Dick and Bruce rush through their meal, trying very hard *not* to look at one another, and smiled to himself.

After a quiet dinner, with only the sound of Tim's brain creaking and his teeth grinding in frustration, Bruce excused himself while he made a call, leaving Tim and Dick still sitting at the table.

"So, what happened?" Tim hissed at last.

"Happened?"

"Oh, come on, Dick, I risked getting my ass kicked for you, spill!"

"Don't know what you're talking about, short stuff!" Dick grinned as Tim almost vibrated with irritation.

"Dick!"

"Don't you have chores?"

"Dick!"

"I could mention to Bruce that you have so little to do you're engaging in 'gossip'."

Tim glared at the smug grin on Dick's face and muttered, "Sure, see if I ever help you again.  Some people don't know how to say 'thank you'."

"Maybe some extra weight training might take your mind off such trivial matters?" Dick suggested, knowing the younger man's reluctance for the more physical side of being a 'sidekick'.

"You b..."

"Ah!  No bad language.  Boy wonders never swear!"

"What a crock!"  Tim pushed his chair from the table and headed for the door.  "Don't think I'll forget this Grayson," he warned and almost grinned.

"Be a good boy and run along," Dick teased as Tim stamped out of the room.

During this exchange, Alfred was quietly going about his business, clearing the dishes and setting everything ready for breakfast next day.  Dick stood up and wandered over to where the older man busied himself.

"In a little trouble were you?" he said and leaned against the wall, waiting for a reaction.

"Sir?"  Alfred turned and looked Dick squarely in the face, his expression one of quiet serenity.

"Don't give me that.  You knew exactly which buttons to push, didn't you?
 Knew exactly what to say to get me running over here, no questions asked?"

"I have no idea to what you are referring, Master Dick?"

Nodding slowly, Dick smiled, "Sure you don't, you wily old fox.  Anyway," Suddenly, Dick leaned in and kissed the older man on the cheek, "Thanks,
Alfred."

Feigning shock, Alfred took a step back, "Master Dick, kindly refrain from these overtly affectionate outbursts and go about your business!"

Dick began to laugh, "Yeah, I love you too, Alfred.  Thanks for everything."
He turned around and wandered from the kitchen, heading for Bruce's library to say goodbye, then home to face Tad.

As he let himself into the apartment, Dick could smell chili and beer, so
Tad had obviously eaten.  Suddenly, the big blond came bounding out of the bedroom and stopped dead.

"Hey dude, everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine, but we gotta talk Tad."

"Aw shit, this is gonna be bad, I just know it."

"Well," Dick squirmed slightly, "Yes and no."

"Bruce Wayne said 'yes', didn't he?"

Dick was temporarily rendered speechless.  How could someone who was a self-confessed 'dumb ass' be so intuitive?  "Yeah, how did you know?"

"Dick, come on.  You know that I find the guy a big, arrogant fucking loser, but he loves you, man.  Even I could see that, and I know you love him too.
When we were together a part of you was always with him.  Just don't let him fuck it up, okay?  I don't think he deserves you, but I'm guessing that I'm a little biased on the subject."

Still reeling from the revelation, Dick gathered Tad up in his arms, "I've had a really good time with you, you know that, right?  I *never* used you to get at him, Tad, please believe that?"

"Shit, I know that!"  Tad kissed Dick on the forehead tenderly, "I always knew that what we had was just fun, I never expected a ring, man."

"Look, Bruce is having a small private party tomorrow night and he's asked me to invite you."

Tad pulled away and looked on disbelievingly.  "Is he gonna have me murdered or something?" he asked with a wary frown.

"No!" Dick chuckled, more from knowing that the thought had likely flitted through Bruce's mind on occasions lately.  "He just wants you to know that there are no hard feelings.  Look, it'll be great; I'll be there, so you'll be fine."

Still an unsure glare.

"Alfred is making his own recipe cream doughnuts and trust me, you won't want to live after you've tasted them!" Dick urged.

"Well, I guess if I'm gonna die, I might as well go with a gut full of cream doughnut, huh?"

"That's the spirit!"

Tad's usual bluster and posturing had diminished with each step closer to Wayne Manor.  Though he wanted to please Dick and make the effort, he wasn't quite dumb enough to believe that Bruce Wayne had forgiven and forgotten that he'd been screwing Dick Grayson.

Dick had loaned him some nice smart pants and a good-looking shirt and though he said so himself, he looked pretty fine.

Tad and Dick stood at the door, the sound of the bell still ringing in their ears, and the young blond physically stopped his own hands shaking by clasping them behind his back.

"It'll be okay, you'll see," Dick whispered just moments before Alfred opened the door and bid them enter.

Following Dick into the drawing room, Tad glanced around nervously, "Man, you really grew up here?" he whispered.

"Yeah," Dick replied.

"Wow."

Suddenly, Bruce Wayne entered the room and Tad thought that the room possibly got uncomfortably smaller.

"Glad you could make it, Dick," Bruce smiled before turning his attentions to Tad.  "I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot before, Tad, and I hope we can start again?  I'm Bruce Wayne, pleased to meet you," Bruce held out his hand and Tad tentatively took it, shaking it weakly.

"Tad...Ryerstad."

"Do you know Tim Drake?"  Bruce gestured to the youth standing pouting at the soda that Bruce had insisted he stick to.

"Hi!"  Tim smiled briefly before continuing his hunt for snacks.

Bruce sighed.  "Please excuse Tim's manners, Tad, he's a...teenager!" he said with slight distaste.

At that moment the door opened.

"Ah, my other guest, do you know Superman, Tad?" Bruce asked and tried not to grin as the young blond's jaw fell to the floor.

Superman wandered into the room, greeting people warmly and smiled, "Hi Tad, how you doing?"

Speechless and boneless, the young man simply let his eyes rake across the vast chest, unable to fully take in the sheer enormity of the man.  He was more than head and shoulders taller than Tad and twice as wide.

"Wow."

Smiling, Superman pulled Dick into his arms and they hugged affectionately,
"Dick, good to see you again, it's been too long."

"Yeah, way too long!"

"You should come to Metropolis more often, Jimmy still asks about you."

Dick grinned sheepishly and shrugged as he noted Bruce looking interested in that last comment, "Well, it's easy for you to say but I don't fly, remember?"

"Give me a call and I'll come and pick you up... literally," Superman laughed as he gently slapped Dick's shoulder.

During the conversation, Tad still stood still, mouth open in awe of his favorite wet dream here in person.

"So, Tad," Superman turned his attention to the young blond again, "Ever been to Metropolis?"

Dick watched as Tad and Superman wandered away into the party, somehow he guessed they'd get along.  Clark was actually a very gentle man, he had a soothing effect on people, lacking Batman's intensity and Dick's own hair trigger temper, he would be a good influence on Tad.

"Happy now?" Bruce asked as he moved in close and rested his hand on Dick's shoulder.

"Yeah, thanks, Bruce, for arranging all of this."

"My pleasure."

"Clark will be good for Tad."

"Hmm," Bruce thought about it for a moment, "At least he's impervious to harm, anyway."

Despite the obvious 'dig', Dick began to laugh.  It was true that being almost indestructible was a definite plus when dealing with Tad and even
Superman would have his hands full.

"Dick?"

Looking around, slightly taken aback by the unusually lusty tone to Bruce's voice, Dick answered, "Yeah?"

"Will, erm...will you stay tonight?  With me...here?"

"Spend the night...with you...here?"  Dick cocked an eyebrow as he looked up into Bruce's face.  "I have a better idea.  Why don't you come back to my place and stay with me?  It's no Wayne Manor, but it's private."

"Dick, we can have plenty of privacy here.  A whole wing to ourselves, if you like."

"Yeah, I know.  But what if we want to get a little crazy?" Dick asked with a sexy smile on his face, continuing in a low voice, "I might want to see you naked in the kitchen...or on the living room floor."

Unbidden, vivid images of a certain scene involving nudity on Dick's living room floor flashed through Bruce's mind and his face went grim.  He wasn't sure he wanted to follow behind that performance.  He hadn't even thought about ever engaging in any activity in the place where Dick had...

"Bruce?"

With an almost imperceptible shake of his head, Bruce cleared his mind, focusing on Dick's puzzled face.

Crossing his arms, Dick said, "I'm not sure I want to hear this, but what exactly *did* you see that night when you were outside my window?"  Trying to figure out what he had been in the middle of when Bruce had pulled his 'peeping Bat' act.  When there was no answer, Dick sighed.  "Never mind.  Look, I'm not going to apologize for what I did in the privacy of my own home.  And I'm not going to apologize because you're not my first.  Get over it.  I mean, I'm not *your* first, am I?"

Bruce was still silent, stiff and looking uncomfortable.

"Bruce?  I'm not, am I?"

"There was one other, but it was long ago."

Nodding, Dick said, "Harvey Dent, right?"

Looking shocked, Bruce answered, "No!  Harvey and I are...were...  He was just a good friend."  Bruce's voice went quiet, trying not to get lost in the painful memories of how that relationship had turned out: Friends clashing as enemies... and his own regrets over how there had been a time that they could have been more than friends, but he had turned away.

"Oh, sorry... I used to think..."

"What about Tad?" Bruce asked quietly, wanting to change the subject and get some information of his own.  "I didn't realize he had moved out."

"Well, we found a place for him today, and he can move in next week.  But, don't worry, I think I can arrange for him to have a nice, long weekend in Metropolis."  He took one of Bruce's hands, squeezing the large fingers gently.  "So, what do you say?"

"I..."

"Bruce... it'll be fine, you'll see.  Look, if it'll help, pretend that you weren't out lurking in the rain watching, imagine yourself in Tad's position instead..."

And Bruce found that he could easily do that, his face flushed as he *so* easily placed himself naked on Dick's floor, with Dick behind him, licking him...*there*....

With a soft chuckle, Dick pressed a key into Bruce's hand, "My place in an hour.  That'll give me time to get things ready, and for you to clear this place out.  First, I'll have a little talk with Clark."  He leaned a little closer, dropping his voice further.  "One hour, Bruce.  Don't be late."

Bruce stood there at the edge of the room in the shadows, watching as Dick went over whispered in Clark Kent's ear, and then spoke briefly with Tad.  The blond gave Dick a grin and a hug, and then winked when Clark led him out.  Bruce was still watching when Dick turned, gave him a quick nod, and left.  His breath left him in a rush, and only years of discipline kept him standing, and allowed him to calmly go tell Alfred that he would be out for the evening and to keep an eye on Tim.

Exactly one hour later, Bruce let himself into Dick's apartment, unlocking the door with nervous hands.  There were no lights on, and the blinds had been drawn, but Bruce wasn't afraid of the dark...he had conquered that fear long ago.  But he had no idea what to expect and he had to shove down a slight tremor of anxiety at that.  Dick was nowhere to be seen, and he took a deep breath, automatically listening to what the darkness had to tell him.

For a brief moment he could see himself, prowling through the shadows as the Bat, tracking down the object of his desire, carrying out his intentions with expertise....  Then it was gone, and he was Bruce Wayne again, a little shaky, but yet excited... unsure of what lay ahead, but so in love he found it didn't matter.

He made his way through the apartment until he got to Dick's bedroom.  There he found him, sprawled out on the bed, totally naked...and fast asleep.  Moonlight lent a glow to Dick's smooth skin, and Bruce could only stare with his throat tight and some burning emotion curling in his belly.  It wasn't the first time that he'd watched the young man in slumber.  Too many times over the years to even count.  The thought of how different this time was did hot and magical things to his body, and he grew hard inside his pants.  He almost laughed with the joy of knowing that it was something in which he could now indulge.

Almost in slow motion, he went to the bed, sitting on the edge, and watched.  His eyes skimmed the graceful lines of muscled legs, up to dark curls and semi-hard cock, then the gentle rise and fall of Dick's chest as he breathed, thick strands of hair partially obscuring blue eyes that glittered even in the dark...

Bruce gave a start as he realized that Dick was no longer sleeping.

A smile spread across Dick's face.  "Like what you see?"

"Yes," Bruce answered, not hesitating at all even though his voice was rough and scratchy as if from disuse.

"Good," Dick said, stretching a little, liking the tension in his muscles, especially the pleasant feeling of his growing erection.  "So, are you just going to sit there and watch?"

"You're tired...maybe--"

"*Maybe* you should get undressed and join me."  Pushing the hair out of his face, raising up on his elbows to stare, totally unashamed of the proof of his excitement.  When Bruce finally stood, unbuttoning his shirt, Dick said, "*Slowly*."

So, Bruce did as he was told, slowly revealing inch after inch of perfectly toned flesh, hesitating only for a split second when it came time to remove his underwear showing his own hard-on, his stomach doing flips at the hiss from Dick when he was finally totally nude.

Dick was more nervous than he let on when he held out his hand, bringing Bruce down onto the bed with him.  Aroused and anxious, neither emotion willing to completely give into the other.  He forced himself not to worry about how things would be 'after', and concentrated on the situation at hand.  And started with a kiss.

So different from the night before, because Bruce was *naked* and on top of him, hard and insistent against his thigh.  It sent such a rush through Dick that he could barely breathe... how long had he wanted, how long had he waited...  He couldn't decide where to put his hands, so he touched everything within reach.  He had thought that Bruce would be quiet in bed, and had considered it a challenge to crack the reserve enough to make the older man moan loudly with pleasure.  But he found that Bruce readily made sounds when touched and kissed, while he himself couldn't even get enough air in his lungs to make the tiniest whimper though he was almost vibrating with need.  He even came silently, mouth open, body rigid in the throes of climax, mentally cursing himself for being so quick.  He was taking deep, shuddering breaths, finally filling his lungs when he felt the evidence of Bruce's orgasm splash hot and wet on his skin.

"That wasn't quite how I imagined it would go," he mumbled somewhere in Bruce's hair, when Bruce's head came to rest on his shoulder.

A husky whisper answered, "It was better than I *ever* imagined."

Dick had a fleeting thought about getting up and cleaning up, but he couldn't bring himself to move...to let go.  And when Bruce simply arranged a blanket over them, Dick relaxed, and fell asleep with his lover in his arms.

Cold morning light flooded through the window, rousing Dick from his dream state.  He opened his eyes to see Bruce leaning his head on his hand, just watching him.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he rubbed his eyes to clear his vision.

"Just watching you sleep."

"Why didn't you wake me," Dick reached out and ran his fingers down Bruce's chest.

"Because I was having fun watching you sleep," Bruce replied.

"You're a weird guy, Bruce Wayne," the younger man teased and suddenly pulled Bruce against him for a kiss.  "You seem to get a buzz from 'watching' me, what is it, huh?"

Bruce's face flushed and he became serious, "I'm sorry about that, Dick, it was unforgivable..."

"Bruce, I'm sure if I stumbled past your window one dark and stormy night and saw you having sex with another guy, I'd take a peek, too."  Dick began to laugh as the color in Bruce's cheeks climbed. "So, was it hot to watch?" he whispered.

Bruce didn't answer; he merely stroked his hand softly across Dick's chest.

"Well, was it?  Or did it disgust you?"

"No, it didn't disgust me!"

"So, it turned you on?"  Dick pushed for an answer.  It was now a matter of principal that he get Bruce to be honest with him.  "Come on Bruce, we shouldn't have secrets now.  How did you feel?  And what *were* we doing?"

"Dick, do we have to have this conversation now?"

"Yes."

Bruce sighed and laid his head on Dick's chest, "You were on the floor with
Tad and you were...erm...you were kissing him..."

"*And*?"

"And, er, you were 'licking' him."  Bruce swallowed hard as the image flooded back into his mind, making his dick jump.

"Licking him?"

"Yes."

"Licking how?"

"Dick, does it matter?"

"Well, judging by that large object poking me in the thigh, it does to you, yes."

"You were licking his... his ass."  Bruce almost whispered the last few words.

Suddenly Dick's chest began to vibrate with laughter, "You're getting all embarrassed over seeing me rimming Tad?"

"I didn't say that!"

"Your face is speaking volumes, Bruce."  Dick ran his fingers through the older man's hair. "Got you hot though, didn't it?"

No words, just a slight nod of the head and Bruce Wayne almost subconsciously tightened his grip.

"Haven't you ever done that?" Dick asked.

"No."

"And never had it done to you?"

"No."

A surge of heat ran through Dick's body, coming to rest in his groin, "Wanna try?"

"What?"

"Wanna try it?" Dick asked in a patient manner usually only used with very slow children.

"I..."

"Bruce, yes or no.  Don't analyze it, don't let 'the Bat' think it over, just decide."

"Yes."

"See, you can do it if you try."  Dick smiled and touched Bruce's face.  "Lie on you stomach, you need to relax first."

Changing positions, Bruce sprawled on his belly, allowing Dick to straddle his back.  The younger man began to massage the tight muscles in Bruce's neck, working his way down the heavily built shoulders, following each touch with a kiss, thrilling as the big man beneath him whimpered and shivered with delight.  Whispering and detailing every wonderful thing he was determined to do, Dick began to lick and nip at the flesh, the taste of sweat exploding in his mouth as Bruce shuddered and moaned.

When finally Dick reached the base of Bruce's back, the older man was a helpless puppet beneath him, his breath catching as he tried to control himself, his hard and pounding erection jutting painfully into the mattress, his hands curled into fists, pulling the sheet into bunches as he arched to ease the torture on his cock and to press closer to Dick.

Smiling, Dick slid his hands over Bruce's ass, parting the cheeks and teasing the fleshy mounds with bites, which caused to Bruce to shout out before he returned to inaudible mumbling.  Dick hadn't figured Bruce for someone noisy when having sex and this was a real revelation.  With a sudden sweep of the tongue, Dick licked across Bruce's ass; the sensation made the older man buck and he almost sent Dick flying onto the floor.

"Oh God!" Bruce bellowed, his body trembling and his balls tightening as he hurtled towards orgasm.

Dick continued to work with his tongue, steadying the big man beneath him with his hands. He could feel Bruce shaking and guessing that he was perilously close, Dick turned him over and swallowed the red and weeping cock, sucking him gently until Bruce hollered as he came.

A thundering shook the floor and Dick fell back laughing: someone was complaining about the noise.

"Was that what I think it was?" Bruce slurred.

"It's okay, just my neighbor downstairs. I think I need a new bed that doesn't squeak so badly," Dick sniggered as he crawled back up and dropped down on Bruce, kissing him hard.

"You mean someone could hear us?" Bruce gasped as he pushed Dick back.

"Bruce, don't worry."

"I told you we should have stayed at Wayne Manor!"

"Bruce, stop worrying, that's an order!"

Bruce's voice lowered to almost a whisper.  "It was wonderful," he said as he reached out and brushed a lock of hair from Dick's face.

Feeling a little ashamed at how *pleased* with himself he was, Dick couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "Yeah, I enjoyed myself too.  How do you fancy breakfast?"

"You mean I have to move?"

"No, I'll go fix us something and bring it back here."

"Into the *bedroom*?" Bruce gasped.

"Yeah, Bruce, we're gonna eat in bed and then probably have sex again, maybe even on the floor or in the kitchen."

"Such decadence, what *would* Alfred say?"  Bruce began to laugh.

"He'd say: 'Please don't get any 'mess' on the rugs, Master Bruce, it's devilish to remove from the pile.'"  Dick affected Alfred's clipped tones, and within moments the two men were laughing aloud, finally enjoying the comfort that their newfound intimacy had given them.

It had been a long haul, but Dick had already decided that traversing the sometimes rocky road known as Bruce Wayne had been worth every moment of pain.
 
 

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