Title: Little boy blue Fandom: DCU Toonverse (Pre-The Lost Years) Summary: Bruce puts his hand on Dick's knee but before he can ask "What?" or "Why?" or even just, "Bruce?" Bruce is kissing him like they've done it a thousand times and he hasn't been there to kiss in a year. Rating: All ages Pairing: Bruce/Dick Notes: Te finally convinced me that it would be possible to write Dixon-esque Bruce/Dick, and then she ducked and wove conversationally until this happened. Thanks to Betty for pre-reading. It starts on Dick's nineteenth birthday -- or at least the part he can see starts then. He's telling Bruce about how Suzanne Taschen started reciting this poem at him on the way out of his lit class and they're laughing together. It goes on too long. They've had too much wine. Bruce puts his hand on Dick's knee but before he can ask "What?" or "Why?" or even just, "Bruce?" Bruce is kissing him like they've done it a thousand times and he hasn't been there to kiss in a year. Dick can't figure out what it was. Not the poem -- it wasn't even sexy, really. He hadn't made any dirty jokes or mentioned that his roommate is kind of cute for a jock -- which is true, but not something he'd ever mention to Bruce. There was just no obvious trigger in that moment, or in any other moment that Dick can remember. He spends a lot of the next few weeks trying to figure out what the last straw was, what could possibly have set Bruce off. He's usually pretty good about staying focused on a case, but there aren't any leads here and he gets tired of coming up with blanks and blanks and blanks. It has to have been something because Bruce is kissing him, even now, as enthusiastically as ever. Dick covers his mouth and pushes him away enough to ask, "What was it? What did I say?" Bruce stares at him and doesn't answer for a few breaths. "Everything's okay," he says, and Dick pushes him away enough to get space to think. "I don't get it. I never -- I never -- why this, Bruce? Why now? Why me?" "It's what you wanted," Bruce says, reaching for him to -- comfort him? catch him? "I didn't -- I --" Dick shakes his head and stays out of reach. "I don't know what I wanted. Did you -- I mean, how long?" "I don't -- understand." "That makes two of us." Dick crosses his arms. "Look, you can't just -- just kiss me and act like we both knew it was coming, because I didn't. I -- where did it come from? Why?" "You didn't like it?" Bruce looks like he's been slapped. "God, that's not the point, it --" Dick shakes his head, again, quickly. He can't look at Bruce and still think about this. "It felt good. Amazing. Completely bizarre. What made you think I wanted it?" Bruce frowns. "They don't call me a detective for nothing, Dick." "That's it, though! I didn't keep a diary, and I -- I never looked at you too long or avoided looking at you or -- or anything, Bruce, I just -- it was all okay, the way it was." He shrugs. "Everything was fine." "Were you happier?" Dick looks up at him and -- there's something dangerous about Bruce's expression, not Batman-dangerous but Bruce-dangerous. The hope in his eyes, the answer he's just wishing for -- but Dick can't lie. "I don't know." "I don't --" Bruce reaches toward him again and lets his hand fall. "I thought it was --" Dick makes himself smile and knows Bruce can tell how fake and wavery it is. "You feel really good. And really -- off." He can't even pretend to smile when Bruce is staring at him like that. "I'm in college, now," he says like either of them could forget, like Bruce doesn't count the hours they have carefully every time Dick walks in the door to when he leaves again. "I thought I'd have my own space. My own stuff to do. I -- I didn't think I'd be at home this much." "You don't have to be," Bruce says quickly. "If you want to be there --" "I can't cheat on you, Bruce." It makes Bruce recoil, and -- good, and not good, because he's harder to reach and still listening. "I wanted -- a lot of things. But this wasn't one of them, not really. Not anymore." "Because you left?" Bruce asks tentatively. It's wrong -- Bruce is always so sure of things -- but this kind of thing is what he's never been good at at all. "Because I couldn't have it. Because I couldn't need it from you." Dick rakes his fingers through his hair. "Because I can't stay here forever, not like this." "It'll always be your home," Bruce says. Dick tightens his hands into fists. "No, it doesn't have to be, that's the point, don't you get it? Legally, maybe, eventually, but I haven't seen anything but Gotham, not really. I don't know what it's like to live other places, and if I'm going to stay here I want to know what I'm giving up." He can't tell how much Bruce is getting and how much he's going to remember later and think about, all night, the way he does with interrogations. "Then you're leaving." His voice sounds too quiet, too weak to really be Bruce. "I have class on Monday. I have to," Dick says quickly, and Bruce frowns at him. It wasn't a fair answer, but -- "I'll be back whenever you need my help." "It was never just about needing your help. Dick, I --" Bruce shakes his head. "Why? Really, this time?" Dick closes his eyes so he doesn't have to see Bruce looking at him like that. "If I don't leave, I won't be able to." Bruce takes a deep breath. "Would that be so bad?" "I'm not you." Dick keeps his eyes shut, but he can still hear Bruce wince. "I'm never going to be you, and I have to figure out who I am." "Dick," Bruce says. "Robin -- please." "I'm sorry," Dick says, and he's never meant it quite so much before. "I never thought it would be like this. I -- I should go." He hears Bruce collect himself -- tiny sounds, smoothing away the outer signs like Dick won't be able to see every hit that landed. "I'll call Alfred," Bruce says, and steps into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind himself. He's well gone by the time Dick manages to whisper, "I love you," to the empty room.
	Email the author DCU Story Index