Rating: T, for very very mild adult content.
Characters/Pairings: Bruce/Dick, mention of past Bruce/Clark
Word Count: 896
Summary: Bruce goes to Blüdhaven to surprise Dick. Things don't go exactly as planned.
Warnings: Um... none?
Disclaimer: Most of the characters and locations in this story are © DC Entertainment Inc. and Warner Bros. Entertainment. All content is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, not for profit.
Notes: This is for realpestilence. Happy Birthday, bb! I offered her a birthday drabble, and she requested "Bruce/Dick and unnecessary jealousy". This is what I wrote. Predictably, it's a bit longer than an actual drabble.
Posted to robin_fans, we_love_dick, and batfic.
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Bruce Wayne had plans. Plans for a romantic weekend with Dick Grayson, and sex. Lots of sex. He'd come to Blüdhaven unannounced to surprise Dick, and as he headed up the front steps of Blüdhaven's police department, he experienced a rising sensation of nerves and giddiness. It was perfectly logical, he reasoned, as the romantic portion of his relationship with Dick was still fairly new, and he'd never done something like this before. Even so, he wished it would go away. Batman doesn't do nerves and giddiness.
And there was nothing to be nervous about. His plans were perfect. He knew Dick had the next couple of days off; Bruce would surprise Dick at work and take him out for lunch at the best restaurant in town, and at the end of Dick's shift Bruce would take him back to his penthouse suite and they would—
But Dick wasn't at his desk. Well, that was only a minor setback. If anyone could track down Dick Grayson, Batman could.
“Grayson went out for lunch early,” confessed a young rookie, a pretty thing, brunette with soft green eyes. “He's probably at Joe's down the street. It's his favorite,” she added, and immediately looked embarrassed to have admitted knowing this about him. She clearly had a crush on him. Bruce couldn't blame her; Dick was a very beautiful man.
So Joe's wasn't a table on the balcony at Marcel Thiebaut's, but that was all right. Sandwiches and coffee could be romantic, too. And Dick would still be surprised. As Bruce approached the corner cafe's red and white hand-painted sign he nervously smoothed his silk tie, and he turned the corner to where tables and chairs were scattered along the sidewalk and there was Dick... and Clark.
Clark Kent. Superman. Bruce's ex. Dick and Clark were sitting together at a table a little apart from the other patrons, sharing a pizza. They were close, leaning in towards each other, conspiratorial. Clark was saying something to Dick with a small, secret smile, and Dick was blushing. The next moment Clark's eyes met Bruce's and widened just slightly. “Bruce,” he said, and he touched Dick's forearm, squeezing a little in warning. Dick turned and his face showed nervousness, embarrassment, alarm.
Bruce turned and escaped quickly back around the corner. He heard the scrape of chair legs on concrete and Dick's voice calling him, “Bruce? Bruce!” He hailed a cab and slipped into it as Dick rounded the corner. “Drive,” he commanded, and he didn't look at Dick as the cab pulled away.
Bruce wasn't all that surprised. He couldn't blame either of them, really. Why wouldn't Dick prefer Clark? Clark was handsome and generous. Bruce knew for a fact what his mouth and hands were like. And Dick was a very beautiful man. No, Bruce couldn't blame them. And the only person he was angry at was himself.
Fifteen minutes later Bruce was in his hotel room packing his things. He heard the suite's door open and a few moments later Dick appeared in the bedroom doorway, pocketing his lock picks. He was still dressed in his police uniform, and the expression on his face was concerned, pained and apologetic.
Carefully keeping his face expressionless Bruce turned away from Dick, unable to look at him. He was unsurprised to see him; Nightwing was good at tracking people down, too. He wished Dick hadn't bothered. “Shouldn't you be at work?” he asked pointedly.
“I called in sick. Food poisoning.” Dick came further into the room, approaching cautiously. “Bruce. I swear to you that wasn't what it looked like.”
“There's no need for you to explain.” Bruce closed his suitcase firmly.
“Bruce. Look at me.” Dick was much closer now, and his fingers gently pulled Bruce's chin around, forcing him to meet his earnest, blue eyes. “There is nothing going on between me and Clark.” He said it with the utmost seriousness, but with the tiniest of smiles, as if he found the idea kind of funny.
Bruce couldn't see a lie there. Dick didn't lie. Bruce wanted to relax, wanted to let go of the sick feeling in his stomach. But... “Why is he in Blüdhaven?”
“He's here as a favor to me. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted... some advice.” Dick bit his lip, cheeks coloring slightly.
Dick smiled, then, a real smile, playful and flirtatious. He traced a finger down Bruce's carotid artery. “You know. Tips. Because... he knows what you like. In the bedroom.” The soft pink of Dick's cheeks deepened appealingly.
Bruce felt somewhat like someone had broken a two-by-four over his head in a back alley. “Oh,” he said faintly.
Dick's grin widened, and he fingered Bruce's collar, stepping closer until Bruce could feel his body heat through their clothes. “Who knew you had such interesting kinks~?” Dick teased.
Bruce felt his own cheeks go hot. “You, um. We. We don't have to, if anything makes you uncomfortable—”
“Oh, no,” Dick interrupted, starting to undo Bruce's tie, “I'm very keen to experiment. I think we should try some out right now, in fact. Starting with...” Dick leaned in and whispered in his ear. Bruce bit down on a whimper.
Batman doesn't whimper.