Title: From sky to earth (Glycine's Song) Fandom: DCU (Regency AU; no spoilers) Summary: A young man seeks his guardian's permission to marry. Pairing: Bruce/Dick Rating: Adult Notes: Regency AU, beginning in medias res. For Mael. "But I have spoken to you of this before," Richard insisted, frowning most irritably at his guardian and benefactor. "I recall," Bruce said drily, "and moreover, I recall saying then what I say now: it would be wholly improper for you to wed Miss Gordon even if she were, in truth, Mr Gordon's daughter." The cloud of fury occluding Richard's fine -- if somewhat dusky -- features grew darker still, such that he contrasted ever more sharply with his pale neckcloth and striking scarlet waistcoat. "That is wholly unjust of you, now as it was then, and I cannot abide by your decree." It took a great effort of will for Mr Wayne to maintain his expression as one of calm rather than mirroring his petulant ward's pout. "I have not changed my mind and I have no plans to do so in future. She does not suit you --" "But she does!" Richard insisted, and here he clenched one hand into a fist, crumpling the edge of his jacket. "I love her desperately!" Bruce shook his head. "She would be a most improper wife." Richard flung his hands into the air, making the cuffs of his shirt ruffle, and turned his back on Bruce most rudely. "I cannot understand your objections." Bruce shook his head, though the gesture went unseen. "She is rather old, entirely impoverished, headstrong --" At this, Richard laughed with a sound like a dog whose tail has been trod upon sharply. He spun about, the tails of his coat swinging, to stare at Bruce incredulously. "You court Miss Kyle and chide me for loving a headstrong woman. I have known you to be many things in your time, my dearest guardian, but never a hypocrite." Bruce cleared his throat and said in his smoothest voice, "I have never had any intention of marrying Miss Kyle. In any case, Miss Gordon is still lacking in funds, aging rapidly, and while her father is a good man he can hardly be said to be of a good family." "By Heaven," Richard said, his eyes wide with surprise, "are you forbidding our union on the grounds that she is Irish? Have you forgotten that I am hardly wealthy, nor of a good family by those standards? My father and mother were --" "Your blood is of no consequence," Bruce said crisply, laying his hand upon Richard's shoulder. "You are of my family now." Richard was in high color with emotion, and though he tolerated Bruce's hand, he trembled slightly. "I will forgo that fine honor, Mr Wayne, should you continue to deny me that which would bring me the deepest and most lasting joy of life." Bruce blanched at the epithet. "Richard," he said, then cleared his throat and said, "Robin," hearkening back to the boy's childhood nickname. "Don't speak of such things." "How should I not? You would stand between me and happiness and declare that you are not blotting out all possible light of hope." Richard bit his lip and looked at the floor, the soft curls of his queue falling against his neck. "As you love me, you cannot wound me so." Bruce closed his eyes, his brow wrinkled with pain. "As I love you," he echoed more softly, "I cannot bear to lose you." "It would be no loss," Richard said, or rather began to say, for in the midst of his words, he was surprised by a kiss so hungry, so sweet, and so shocking that he fair lost all attention for anything else until Bruce broke it off and stepped away. "Forgive me," Bruce said, covering his face with his hand. "I shouldn't --" Richard caught his hand, pulled it away from Bruce's face, and brought it to his own lips, pressing a kiss to the back. "We mustn't." "You needn't --" Bruce began, but Richard stopped his words with another kiss. "We cannot," Richard said, putting his arms around Bruce's neck, "and we should not, but o," and here his cheeks flushed, "how I have yearned for this since before I knew it to be a sin." "It is impossible," Bruce said, but while he said it he covered Richard's face with kisses. Richard shivered under this loving onslaught and leaned into his embrace. "Have I gone mad?" "If you have, I must come with you to Bedlam." Bruce let his fingers brush the front of Richard's breeches lightly and they both sighed. "Or to --" "Don't," Richard said, and pulled him down for another kiss. "We'll recover at dawn. We must." Bruce stilled then and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "This is not the price of my consent to your marriage." Richard's swift intake of breath at this and the sudden pallor of his normally ruddy cheeks were proof enough of his earnest affection; that he insisted, "I had no such thought" was sufficiently redundant that Bruce felt no compunction in interrupting him with another kiss. "I am a jealous old man," Bruce said, and had he not spoken while he unbuttoned Richard's breeches, he might have heard a more strenuous defense of his character. Richard's heartfelt moan was gratifying enough to his sensibilities. "This is too much," Richard protested, clinging to his shoulders. "I can't bear it. Kiss me," he demanded, and muffled his next cry of delight against Bruce's mouth. "Nothing could be enough for you," Bruce contradicted him, and answered his sobbing breath with openmouthed kisses and redoubled caresses until he spent, shuddering and gasping. Richard rested his head on Bruce's shoulder and breathed deeply for a few moments before he stood more sturdily and looked Bruce in the eye. "You've lost your reason entirely." That Bruce meant to respond to this accusation with an apology is undeniable, but he was forestalled by another fierce kiss. When this access of affection had passed, he could only say, "I don't understand you." "Your waistcoat is ruined," Richard said, shaking his head, "and you divorced me from my senses so much that I couldn't think how to unfasten buttons." He demonstrated his returning capabilities by unfastening the front of Bruce's breeches. At the first touch of skin, Bruce closed his eyes. "This is headier than I even dared imagine." "Would a mere romance have helped?" Richard asked, his tone light. "I couldn't have conceived of how this feels." "It is as unique and dear to me as you are." Bruce shuddered. He interrupted his words with a groan that he tried to muffle with the back of his hand, but Richard captured his wrist again and prevented him. "That this could be real -- that you might ever wish for this --" "It is real, and -- o Bruce, I have wished." Richard kissed him again. "I didn't know we might ever --" "Not now." Bruce pulled him into another kiss. "We can't," he insisted, even as his hips rocked and he thrust into Richard's hand. "Then we are blessed with an impossibility." Richard laughed softly and kissed Bruce's cheek, stroking him faster. "A perfect lapse of time, where you are -- again, or is it still? -- all that I have ever wanted." Bruce opened his eyes and stared at Richard, gasping for breath. He said, "And you, my Robin, are all my hopes." He seemed about to add more when his climax caught him and rendered all his words a cry of mingled joy and loss. They clung to each other for a few moments more, and though they knew each other's names well, they said them nevertheless. "Do you truly love her, then?" Bruce asked at length. Richard caught his breath and looked at him. "Yes," was his immediate answer, followed in the next heartbeat by, "Not as I love you." Bruce kissed his forehead. "I would pray not. You are certain she will make you happy?" Richard faltered only for the span of a moment. "She is the finest woman I know." Bruce hesitated before he spoke, a weakness he rarely showed. "I shan't be an aged fool. If she pleases you, then I will congratulate you both on your happiness." "O, Bruce." Richard sighed softly. "Would that it might be otherwise." With only the slightest tremor in his hand, Bruce pushed a flyaway piece of Richard's hair away from his face. "Promise me that this is what you want." Richard bit his lip. "Of all the things I may have, there is nothing I want more." Bruce squeezed his shoulder. "I will write to Gordon immediately."
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