Title: Whatever you've done Fandom: DCU (Post-Infinite Crisis speculation, no spoilers post-NW 112ish) Pairing: Bruce/Dick Summary: The Renegade days are over, but everything isn't back to normal yet. Rating: G Notes: For Mael. I really have to stop writing this pairing before people think it's my OTP. "I'm sorry," Dick says, and takes off the Nightwing mask. It really is the Nightwing mask, for the first time in too long. No Wilson fingerprints. No inappropriate red. It's not sufficient. "Do you think that's enough?" "No." Dick looks at the floor. "But it's a start, and I'm working with the information I got to figure out the ramifications of what happened -- and I'll make it better. As much as I can." Good boy. Conscientious boy. Foolish boy. "No." Bruce tightens his hand into a fist. "You will do that, and it will be something. But you left." "Bruce --" "You left," Bruce says again. "Oh, come on," Dick says, and turns away. "Like you haven't fired me." "The world was coming apart at the seams." "How could I have fixed that? Dammit, Bruce --" Dick turns back, fluid, graceful, furious. "What do you expect from me? I couldn't have made it better." "It was the wrong time," Bruce says. "Is it ever the right time?" It would be wrong to shout at him, and he can catch any attack. He's ready for it. Waiting to be punched or pushed away. He's not waiting for a kiss. It gets through his defenses, past every perimeter, and shocks him into a moan. Into responding with his whole body, his heart, his soul. It's not the longest kiss of Bruce's life. It should be, but Dick breaks it to say, "It takes an apocalypse for this?" "You left me." It sounds petulant, a phrase for Bruce Wayne, not for the man he wants to be, but it's true. Dick chokes on a laugh or a sob. "I'm sorry." "That's not enough." Bruce hugs him more tightly. Clings. Dick squeezes back. "I won't do it again." "Good." Bruce buries his face in Dick's neck. "Don't."
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