Title: Por vos he de morir (4470 words) Fandom: DCU (Post-Robin: Year One) Series: Hábito del alma Summary: The chance to learn something new from Bruce is always wonderful. Warning: Adult. Content some readers may find disturbing, with good cause. Notes: Despite the title, no one dies. Ny got me started. LC and Chevauchee cheered. Glossing beta read. At three in the morning, the Manor is quiet except for the creaks and shuffles normal in an old building. Dick, whose bed got moved into Bruce's room due to a leg injury that's been healed for the last two months, sneaks out of his own bed and snuggles up to Bruce. It's a nightly ritual. Patrol is over, his hair is almost dry on the pillow, and all is right with the world. Bruce kisses him when he does and hugs him tightly. "I thought perhaps you were going to sleep over there." "Not unless you really want me to." "Of course not." Bruce nuzzles his ear. "I was thinking we ought to try something new." Dick's not bored with the normal stuff yet -- not sure how anybody could be, because it all feels so great -- but the chance to learn something new from Bruce is always wonderful. "Sure." Bruce kisses him for a long time before he says anything else. Then he sits up and Dick pets his back while he reaches for the lube. "You're not going to ask what?" Dick kisses one of the scars that runs across his spine. "You'll tell me when you're good and ready." Bruce turns and pulls him into another hug. "True enough." "So," Dick says, wriggling a little to tease him, "when do I get to find out?" "Always impatient," Bruce says, mock-frowning at him. He reaches over to turn the light on. "This isn't a good night to be impatient." Dick blinks a few times to get his eyes to adjust. "Sorry, I'll do better." Bruce strokes his hair. "I know you will." Dick makes himself take a few deep breaths. "Okay. What do you want me to do?" Bruce gives him the lubricant. "Start with some of this." He's getting pretty good at knowing what enough is for the times Bruce wants him to finger himself, and what enough is when it's for his dick, but they're two different amounts. "How much?" "More than usual," Bruce says, pushing the covers down and bending one leg up. He's not as flexible as Dick, but nobody is. The way he's moving -- well, it's an invitation, that's obvious. "And start a little slowly." "Oh. Uh." Dick bites his lip. "I didn't know you liked that very much." He puts a little more on his fingers. "As a means to an end, more than anything," Bruce says, smiling a little. "Your fingers are going to slide off your hand if you use any more of that stuff." "They didn't mention that in the MSDS sheet," Dick says, grinning at him. "And I don't want to, you know, do anything that would hurt." "I'll let you know," Bruce says. "Go ahead." It's like and not like touching himself -- the initial push is just as tight, just as odd, but it's better in a way because he gets to see Bruce's mouth fall open a little and hear him sigh. "You okay?" Dick asks, as much because Bruce always checks out loud as because he's never done this before. "You've -- mm -- had plenty of practice," Bruce says, and he shifts a little, pushing down onto Dick's finger. "More than I have, lately." "Yeah, but --" Dick nuzzles Bruce's knee with his cheek. "It's a totally different angle." "True. A little harder would be -- yes." Bruce strokes Dick's hair. "That's fine." Dick tries to catch his fingers and nibble on them, but Bruce pulls his hand away. "As long as I'm not hurting you." "Not at all." Bruce lifts his hips. "Try another." His face is all flushed. It's not as easy as the first, and he's starting to get why Bruce usually waits 'til he's already come before he does this. "Bruce, I --" "No, it's fine." Bruce squeezes his shoulder. "Just -- a little more -- slowly." "Sorry, sorry." That's easier, and it gives him more time to think and watch Bruce's face. "You know, I could give you a blowjob, if you wanted." Bruce props himself up on one elbow and laughs. "Other plans. Not that I don't want you to, but -- not just now." "Okay." Dick pets his thigh instead. "Can I go a little faster?" "Yes -- ah, yes, that's fine." Bruce takes a deep breath. "Three fingers?" he says -- asks. "You think so?" Dick frowns at him. "You don't seem -- comfortable." Bruce shakes his head. "It's not uncomfortable. Just --" Dick laughs. "Well, you don't have to hurry for me. I don't really know --" but he does, when he says it out loud. "Um, wait, do you want me to --" he bites his lip again. "Really?" "I didn't know --" Bruce gasps a little and Dick slows down "-- it was so unsubtle. Yes. If you'd like to -- ah -- try." Dick knows he's blushing and that it's stupid to blush. "Well, maybe if we'd done it before I'd have figured it out, but -- it's not --" "It's all right," Bruce interrupts him. "Whatever you want." "I don't -- I don't know." Dick keeps moving his hand, out of momentum as much as anything. "It feels good, right?" "Yes," Bruce says, like he's actually calm and patient and Dick isn't making his hips roll at all. "That's the goal." "I'm not sure I can do it right." Dick strokes his dick, trying to keep it in the same speed. "But if you tell me what to do, I'll -- I'll do my best." "Dick --" Bruce laughs breathlessly. "You always do." He's blushing even more at that. "I can't do anything else, I -- I --" He shrugs a little. "Maybe another finger now?" "Certainly." It makes Bruce's thighs tense, but Dick rubs them with his free hand. "That's --" He shakes again at the second thrust and spreads his legs a little more. "Slowly." "Darn, sorry." Dick pets his stomach and tries to keep his own breathing steady. It keeps faltering to match Bruce's. "No -- mm -- no harm done. It's --" Bruce fists one hand in the sheet. "The more thorough you are now -- the -- ah -- better off we'll be later." Dick nods and remembers Bruce can't necessarily see. "Okay, right. So -- need me to slow down?" "Not now." Bruce sits up to grin at him and then tenses a little. "There -- that's --" "Jeez, you'd think I'd be better at finding it than this," Dick says, grinning back. "It's a -- you're -- you're fine." Bruce takes a shuddering breath, then another. "All right -- stop." Dick freezes. "You're sure." Bruce takes his free hand and pulls him up to kiss him. "Before you get any more impatient." He hisses softly when Dick pulls his fingers away. "More lubricant, I think." "Right, right." The thought of what he's going to do makes his hands shaky. "I -- you want this -- I -- Bruce --" Bruce interrupts him with another hug, warm and close and ignoring that Dick's getting lube on his side. "It's all right. Even if it doesn't go perfectly, it's all right." "I just --" Dick shrugs. "I don't want to let you down. After all that." "I believe you'll find that comparatively speaking, that was nothing," Bruce says lightly. "Even with regards to sex." Dick blinks at him. "But it was enough?" Bruce kisses his forehead, his cheek, his lips. "Yes." "Okay." He bites his lip. "If you're really sure." "I am." Bruce kisses him again. "When you're ready." And he wouldn't have said he was, a minute ago, but the thought of being inside Bruce, now he knows what it feels like, is more than enough. "Right. So --" he scoots down the bed. "Slowly?" "To start." Bruce strokes his shoulder. "As much as you can." "I'm not going to do anything you don't tell me to do," Dick says, shaking his head. "I know better than that -- I mean -- I know I don't know what I'm doing." Bruce reaches down and holds himself open, lifting his hips a little. "You're fine. Just -- yes, there -- that's --" Dick has to keep saying, "Slowly," to himself in his head, and then maybe out loud too, or he's going to forget. Hot slick tight -- slowly, slowly -- and he whimpers. "God, are you okay? -- Slowly," and that time he hears himself say it. Bruce chuckles, then makes a soft sound that's almost a moan. "You're having one of -- oh -- those lovely moments again." "Oh god, right now?" Dick forces his eyes open and looks at Bruce, who's smiling at him. "I -- oh god." He tightens one of his hands into a fist. "I'm -- I'm not good at slowly, I --" Bruce puts a hand on his hip and that reminds him not to pull out as quickly as he wants to, to stay -- deep, the word is deep and also hot -- and just try to breathe and feel. "You're fine." "I'm gonna die." Dick shakes his head. "Not really, I mean -- can I -- I have to, I --" Bruce lets him go a little and he does his best impression of slowly and knows it's not horrible when he doesn't get tossed out of bed. Not that that's ever happened, but neither has this. Bruce sighs. "That's a good speed." "Yeah?" He's not sure he can do it again -- it still feels agonizingly slow to him -- but he can try to not just lose it quite yet. "Mm, yes." But if it makes Bruce make that kind of noise, he has to try. "Slowly," he says out loud again, and it works for another ten seconds at the outside. "I -- I don't think I can --" "It's all right," Bruce says, and this time Bruce pulls on his hip and the noise Dick makes is very nearly a scream. "Oh, I -- is that --" There are ways to put words together so they mean something. He knows that. What words, and what to do with them -- not anymore. "Yes," Bruce says, and he moves Dick's hand to his dick -- which he should've thought of, and would feel dumb about except he's not thinking about anything. He's just moving, aiming for what feels good and what makes Bruce's fingers tighten on his hip. It's more than he can deal with, more than he can focus on, and he's absolutely certain that once he gets the speed his body's looking for it's going to be over in a blink. "I -- oh god -- I --" he tries to slow himself down again, make it last until he can at least get Bruce off, but the way Bruce pushes against him completely undermines that and he can't stop himself again. "Oh -- god, I'm sorry -- I -- I --" and there's no way to apologize more than that, to even ask if he's going too fast, because this is what he needs and he can have it. He comes, panting for breath. "God, Bruce -- I'm so sorry." Bruce shakes his head. "It's fine. You're -- you're fine." He wraps his hand around Dick's so they're both jerking him off, harder and faster than he normally wants it, until he groans and comes. "It's -- it's all right," he says, like that's not self-evident at this point. "You're okay?" Dick asks, studying his face. "I didn't hurt you?" "Not in the least." Bruce still makes a little sharp noise when Dick pulls out, but he's smiling when Dick hugs him. "All I need is a shower." "That was -- um." Dick kisses him. "Really nice." "I thought so." Dick blushes. "But I didn't -- I didn't even --" He shrugs. "I was too fast." Bruce tips his chin up and kisses him thoroughly. "It was exactly what I wanted." "How could it have been?" Dick shakes his head. "It -- I was terrible." "No." Bruce smiles at him. "Next time, I'll just make you do it twice." He shivers at the thought, but there's no way to say, 'No, thanks' when what he means is 'Yes, please.' "If I've got the energy." "We'll plan better." Bruce pats his hip. "Shower." <center>~^..^~</center> "So," Dick says a few weeks later, getting into bed, "do you have everything all planned out?" It's a Friday night, or rather early morning, which usually means something special. Bruce raises an eyebrow at him. "You don't think I can be spontaneous?" Dick grins. "I think you can do a great job of surprising me." "Which is not the same." "It counts as the same to me," Dick says, and Bruce knocks him flat on his back on the bed and kisses him until he's grabbing on to Bruce's shoulders, wrapping his leg around Bruce's waist, and moaning. "That's a good start," he says. "Which doesn't negate the fact that I had bigger plans," Bruce says, letting him up and moving the pillows off to one side. The mattress is way too nice, expensive, and new to have significant grooves in it, but they still have places where they usually sleep. Bruce has knocked him off to the far side of the mattress, and now the pillows are back past where they tend to sleep. "I knew it," Dick says. Bruce swats him just hard enough to sting and he laughs. "What, you're going to spank me for knowing what you're like?" "Not at all." Bruce does it again and Dick whimpers in protest. "Occasionally, I enjoy the way it feels." He doesn't say, 'Does it hurt?' because he knows perfectly well it doesn't really. "Does it bother you?" Dick shrugs. "I'm not really in the mood for it, but you could convince me." Bruce says, "Ah," and smiles at him. "Thoroughly charming." Dick knows he's blushing and looks away to hide it. "I'm not." "You most certainly are. Could I convince you to get on your knees and put your hands on the headboard?" "Sure." It's not like it's uncomfortable. The headboard is a huge, solid piece of wood, well-sanded and stained, smooth under the hand. "What's on your mind?" Bruce runs his hands up Dick's thighs. "All manner of debauchery," he says, which sounds pretty funny but is also probably true. The one foremost on his mind apparently involves licking. He's being slow and thorough. It makes it really hard for Dick to do anything but let his head drop and close his eyes. "Oh, god, Bruce." He's never going to forget how embarrassing it was the time Bruce found out he could come from just this. Usually he goes faster, though, and that makes it easier to take. It's simpler not to swear when he doesn't have any breath, and smoother to ride the feeling when there's no way to breathe. When he says, "Oh fuck," he's embarrassed again, not because Bruce ever gets mad about what he says, but because swearing is a sign of ignorance. It's not his fault all the parts of his brain with words in them are shutting off. That's all down to Bruce tonguing him carefully, too slowly. "God, god, please -- go a little faster, I --" A little faster is what he needs and what he gets, even though he can tell Bruce isn't in the mood to get things over with quickly. "God, yes, please -- that's --" he's whimpering high in his throat and it's a terrible noise to be making, but he can't make himself stop except to say, "Fuck, yes, please, please, yes," and then groan and come, relieved and surprised all at once. "Oh wow," he says, and tries to take a deep breath, but Bruce's hands are still on his ass, and his tongue is still moving, spreading him open a little more, as wet and insistent and wonderful as ever. "Bruce, I -- oh --" He knows better than to state the obvious, and he can't put the sentence together. "God, that was great," he tries, but that gets an extra, "Oh fuck," in it, too. "All right?" Bruce asks. "God, yes, that was --" still not over, apparently. Bruce pushes his legs a little farther apart and he bites his lip, trying not to swear anymore. "Bruce -- god, please, I --" He shouldn't be this hard again, this fast, but he is, and Bruce makes a humming sound against his ass that makes it worse. Dick shakes his head. "I can't -- you should -- I --" None of the sentences go together, especially not the ones that might possibly make Bruce stop. The humming is driving him nuts and he can tell Bruce is laughing, too, though he's hardly making a sound. "Not fair, not fair --" Dick can't stop his hips from thrusting, pushing his dick into the air and his ass onto Bruce's tongue. "Oh fuck, fuck -- I -- it's not fair --" and he's shaking with another orgasm, already. He hardly even got to touch Bruce and his knees feel like they're going to give out. He knows his hands are shaking on the headboard. "Please," he says, "let me --" and the answer to that is an emphatic no, another damn push. It's easier to give in and whimper this time, even though it takes longer. He's not going to fall over -- not going to let go of the headboard -- and he can brace himself for it even if he can't get the words together to beg for air. He's past swearing now, past arguing -- too tired, too wired, too strung out on the way it feels to do anything but feel it. A hysterical part of his brain wonders how long it'll be before Bruce gives up. Another part of his brain knows Bruce too well for that. He shudders and tightens his fingers on the headboard, arching his back, looking for the perfect angle, the wet friction in just the right place to make him moan. Again. And again, because Bruce pays attention to the way he's moving and the second he gets what he needs, he gets it over and over again until he doesn't have a word for the noises he's making. They're high and desperate and they don't sound like they could ever stop, and he tries to choke them back, but they won't go away. Dick tries to say something, to beg for breath or mercy, but all that comes out is a scream. He's too far gone to ask Bruce to stop now, even if he could. This could go on forever and he'd be stuck here, forever, feeling like his body is melting and burning at the same time. Somewhere in the fourth scream or the tenth, he comes again and gasps for breath. "Bruce -- god --" He gets a real breath this time and Bruce finally, finally lets him go. He has to focus on each finger to get them off the headboard so he can collapse onto his side and pant for breath. "Goddamn, I -- didn't know -- damn." Bruce kisses the back of his neck, which has got to be all sweaty, and spoons up behind him. "More?" he asks, and Dick can feel his grin. "I'll die," he says, and it's mostly habit that makes him wiggle against Bruce. "I would. I -- you're kidding, right?" Bruce says, "Hm," against his neck. It sounds distinctly unlike, 'Yes.' Dick thinks really hard about where all his muscles are and how to move them. WIth that knowledge in hand, he turns over. "You're kidding. Right?" "No, not at all." Bruce kisses him and runs his hand down Dick's side, then over his ass. "Do I have to be?" "I'm exhausted." Dick hugs him. "And it's not my fault I'm exhausted." "You'll be fine in a while," Bruce says, and the horrible thing is that it's probably true. Dick shakes his head. "I'll be asleep." "Pity." Bruce kisses his cheek and rolls over for a second, then comes back with the lubricant. Dick groans. "There's no way I'm going to be able to do you. Not for hours and hours. If you wanted me to be patient --" Bruce laughs and hugs him again. "Then perhaps I'll tease you for hours and hours. Not that it's going to take that long." Dick buries his face in the bed because the pillows are inconveniently far away and wishes to god that Bruce knew him maybe a little less well. "It will. It really will. I can't." Bruce nuzzles the back of his neck. "I'm not asking you to." He traces his fingers down Dick's thigh. "Spread your legs for me." He does it before he even thinks, and then he looks up, trying to get up a good sulk. "Command voice in bed is not fair." "First," Bruce says, holding up one lube-slick finger, "that wasn't a command voice at all. And second --" another one, just as shiny "-- fair is irrelevant." "Well -- maybe -- but --" Dick loses his words again at the push of that first finger into him. All his muscles are on vacation, but his nerve endings are wide awake and tingling. "Oh -- oh -- Bruce --" "Hm?" Bruce teases him as lightly as he was threatening before, and even after three orgasms it's still annoying. Unless it's for a purpose. "I get it," Dick says. "And can I have a pillow?" Bruce grabs him one and he gets it under his cheek. "Thanks." "Of course." Bruce kisses his shoulderblades and a line across his back that feels random until he remembers the three scars there. Dick sighs and gets his knees under himself again so he can do this right. They almost feel like tired but functional parts of his body now, as opposed to being jelly. "Man. That's --" he shivers. "No -- words gone." Bruce nibbles on his ear and pushes another finger into him. "That's a shame," he says, over Dick's moan. "Oops," Dick says, rolling his hips to get more of what he wants and reflecting again that he was totally not kidding about the hours and hours thing. "Shoulda thought -- oh, oh god -- before you -- mm -- made me come." He arches his back a little. "The third damn time, god -- Bruce --" "Next time I'll know better," Bruce says in his ear. "We'll work up to it." Dick shivers and spreads his knees apart. It's not like friction's going to do him any good, but a good stretch and mobility will at least keep him going for a while. "With what -- oh -- kind of practice?" "There's only one way to develop stamina." Dick chokes and buries his face in the pillow. There's got to be a way to knock Bruce out that doesn't require getting out of bed. "Okay, I hate you." "I doubt that very much." Bruce strokes his back. "Well -- okay, so I don't, but -- but -- but --" He blinks at himself. "Oh my god." Bruce holds still. "Are you all right?" He puts his head under the pillow, even though he knows as he does it that just means Bruce is going to take the pillow. As he does. "I can't believe my dick just twitched. You're going to kill me." "Not in the least." Bruce does that twist-thing with his fingers again and Dick gasps. "God, that's -- that doesn't even make -- oh -- sense, I --" He shivers and reaches for the pillow again. "If I can never get it up again, I'm blaming you." "Fair, though unlikely." Bruce lets him go and pats his thigh. "Turn over?" He blinks and does it, ending up with his legs around Bruce's waist. "Thought you said it was easier the other way." "I'm sure we'll manage somehow." Bruce leans over and kisses him breathless, not that it takes that long at this point. "Mmm," Dick says, and he can't think of words that are more to the point than that, especially not when Bruce starts fingering him again. He ends up with one leg over Bruce's shoulder and the pillow under his own, mostly off the bed with his other leg out most of the way to a split. "I -- um. Bruce, I --" he moans. "I'm okay. I mean -- go ahead." Bruce gives him a look that manages to be incisive, worried, and almost completely glazed over. "You're sure?" "Yes. Really --" and the first blunt push takes his breath away in another moan. He would've thought he was done making pathetic little noises by now, but no. "Oh god yes." Bruce pets him restlessly, as if touching the rest of his body from his shoulders to his calves will make it any better or more amazing to get fucked. Or in case he doesn't like it, but that's really not an option that's been on the table from the first time he got a finger up his ass. "Dick," he says, "you're all right?" He's not in a good position to get much leverage, here, but he does what he can. "Fuck yes." Bruce gasps and cups his hip in one strong, dangerous hand. "Good. I -- do you need --" Dick fists his hand in the sheets. "Faster's good. I like -- oh yeah, god, oh god I like faster -- we can -- mm -- do this." "As long as you're -- sure." Bruce keeps up the same pace, maybe a little faster, maybe a little harder, until he's panting with it in counterpoint to the moans Dick can't make himself stop. "Dick --" "Fuck, please, yes --" Bruce reaches for his dick and he wails, pushing into his fist. "God, I feel -- yes that again please, yes -- like I should -- oh -- really want to come, I -- Bruce --" Bruce laughs breathlessly and goes faster. "Then planning paid off." Dick feels his hips jerk and tries to stop the moan that goes with it so he can breathe instead, but he's moaning. "Oh god, oh -- please -- I want to feel you --" Bruce's hand tightens on his hip and he's growling, not even talking -- not even moaning, which would be more normal -- but this is better and worse. "It's okay," Dick says, shuddering and throwing himself into it as much as he can, "please -- just --" Bruce squeezes his hip again and throws his head back in a shout, and he's shaking all over and coming, finally. When he opens his eyes again, he still looks dazed, but he's focused enough to get Dick off, again, so fast he's back to not being able to breathe properly. After that, while Dick is still blessing self-control and shivering, Bruce falls -- slumps -- lies down mostly on top of him. "Oh," Dick says, and hugs him. "Oh, man. We should do that every night, except I'd never walk again." Bruce nuzzles his neck. "Promise me I didn't hurt you." "I'm fine. Just sticky and really --" Dick yawns. "Really tired." "Understandable." Bruce gives his cheek a wet kiss. "Should get cleaned up." "Mm," Dick says, but by then he's mostly asleep. He's still mostly asleep when Bruce picks him up and carries him into the bathroom. Leaning against the tile wakes him up a little, but really, that's just enough to hear Bruce say, "I'm not going to let you drown." "I know," Dick says, and smiles at him through the steam.
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