Craving for Salt: oneshot

“Lust is the craving for salt of a man who is dying of thirst.” ~Frederick Buechner

 

~

 

It shouldn’t feel like such a crime to sneak into Bruce’s bedroom in the middle of early morning but the man had been gone all weekend and Dick--he doesn’t want to admit that he missed the man, but he did.

Bruce is sleeping, at least he seems to be, his back turned to Dick as the boy closes the door on well oiled hinges. Dick can see the faint outline of his body as he breathes in and out steadily and even the picture frame beyond the man’s body that contains a picture of Bruce and his parents and one of the man and Dick.

The carpet is so plush against Dick’s small toes; he curls them up in fluff then continues till his hands find the sheets of the man’s bed. He can smell the soap that he used, the kind that he keeps upstairs in the master bath, it smells almost cleaner in a rich, playboy kind of way.

Bruce’s hand is around his wrist, his body turned, watching the boy let out one surprised breath. “Dick…” it seems almost wrong to see the man appear, for all good intentions, *drowsy*. It doesn’t stop his hand from tightening its hold.

“Bruce--”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

*Yes, of course, but you’re not there*, Dick doesn’t say, can’t say so he settles for the lie, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Nightmares?” Of course, the first thing that comes to mind when it’s Bruce, and it really isn’t nightmares, he stopped having those *months* ago.

“No.”

“Oh,” and Bruce lets go of his wrist, slides up the headboard and doesn’t turn on the light. “What is it?”

Dick knows the you-can-tell-me-anything speech, he’s only heard it from Bruce a hundred, possibly less, times. But Bruce is going to keep guessing until Dick says something, “I-I…I missed you.”

Bruce gives off one of those warm smiles that Dick knows are only meant for him, “You can stay in here, if you want.” Dick really wants to pounce him, the half naked thing doesn’t work either, though maybe--

Dick grins and crawls under the bed sheets, lays a hand across the man’s chest when he scoots back down. It’s really shouldn’t feel so--Bruce turns over and pulls the boy to his chest, Dick can’t help but throw a leg over the man’s and--Bruce is so naked. Dick feels himself blush uncontrollably, feels his whole body heat up. Bruce is so warm and so *solid*.

“Dick…” Bruce’s hand is on his lower back, not pushing, just sitting there. “I’m proud of the way you handled things while I was gone. Though,--no, I’d be ashamed that you were freelancing if Bane and Penguin *hadn’t* been causing trouble. You did good.”

If the man stopped complimenting him, and stopped being so goddamn *naked* Dick wouldn’t feel like he has a fever, but he also wouldn’t feel--

That could possibly be a problem. The slight tent growing in the boy’s silk pajama bottoms. He should move, should probably, but Bruce is so warm.

Dick turns over under Bruce’s arm and attempts to quell the erection that has become a bit of a distraction. Bruce is breathing on the back of his neck and that could possibly make it worst, especially when he whispers Dick’s name again.

“What’s the matter?”

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to sneak into Bruce’s room. The man shouldn’t talk like that right next to Dick, his breathing tickling the short hairs on the nape of his neck. Dick whimpers uncontrollably and immediately runs a hand over his mouth to muffle any other embarrassing sounds.

“Dick? What’s wrong?”

“I-I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes…*mmm*…yes!” It’s Bruce’s fault he had to mewl again. It doesn’t help when the man turns over to click the lamp on.

“Dick?” He was pretty sure it couldn’t get more embarrassing but Bruce turns him over to face the man. Dick should stop clenching his teeth, stop blushing, stop thinking at all about Bruce naked and being naked in the same bed as him. “You’re flushed. You’re--,” the man places his hand against Dick’s forehead and gives a worried expression. “*Dick*, what’s wrong?”

“I’m--it’s…it’s nothing!”

“It doesn’t feel like nothing.”

Dick turns onto his stomach and buries his face into the down pillows covered in red silk. His stomach clenches and Bruce’s hand is back onto the base of his spine.

“You’re not sick, are you Dick?”

He muffles, ambiguously, until he’s up in Bruce’s arms, out of the shield of the blanket. “*Dick*, I’m gone for a couple of days and now--”

Bruce pauses, Dick whines against his chest. The man is almost grinning, giving off a sort of half-smirk, glancing down at Dick’s awakened member. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about it, Dick. Really.”

“*Bruce*--”

“Shh…it’s alright really--”

“I missed you.”

Bruce is laying him back down on the bed, gently as ever, putting his head on a pillow. He strokes Dick’s cheek once, still grinning. “I missed you too, Dick.”

“Hmm…really?”

“Yes…you--does this happen often?”

“Umm,” Dick really wants to curl up or just run away, he settles for turning his head because he knows Bruce would never allow the first two options. “Sometimes when we train…or…when we’re just…”

“Together?”

“Yeah…you’re mad, aren’t you?”

Bruce’s laughter fills the room and he strokes the boy’s cheek again when it settles. “Why would I--how could I be angry at you, Dick? It’s perfectly normal.”

“But--”

“It’s part of growing up.”

“It only happens when it’s you…no one else.”

“I think maybe that’s called a crush, Dick.” Bruce places his hand around Dick’s chin and gently forces the teen to look at him. “There’s nothing wrong with it, really there isn’t. And you shouldn’t think there is.”

Dick’s thinking Bruce should put some clothes on, not just let the bed sheets crumple up in his lap, though the image is very appealing to the Boy Wonder. “*Bruce*…it’s--”

“Do you want me to--?”

“Yes!”

“Shh…alright.” Bruce unbuttons Dick’s pajama top, steadily moving down the line of buttons until he’s able to slip it off the teen’s chest and reveal the base of the flushed skin. The man looks for several moments, “Are you sure, Dick?”

Dick’s blue eyes, are wide, Bruce’s are *hungry*; it makes the teen shiver. “Yes…yes, please.”

“Okay.” Bruce leans down and kisses Dick on the lips lightly; a bit curious Dick kisses back, licks the man’s lips--Bruce pushes him back onto the bed. “There’s time for that later, Dick, don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

The man wraps his index fingers under the hem of Dick’s matching bottoms. “Don’t bite off more then you can chew.” He slides the silk over the boy’s erection and down the length of his legs, throwing the material to the end of the bed. He moves until he’s sitting cross legged in front of the teen, still wrapped in the sheets and pulls and wraps Dick’s legs around his waist.

Dick’s erection is rubbing where his pubic hair will start to grow when he gets older. Bruce holds back the urge to groan when Dick places a hand lazily across his chest, near one of his perk, pink nipples.

“Don’t try too hard, Dick.”

“Hmm?”

The man reaches across the bed, opens up his nightstand and brings out a small bottle Dick doesn’t recognize at all. “What’s that?”

“Lubricant.”

“For what?”

“To make things easier.”

“Oh,” it makes sense when Bruce pours some into his hand and rubs it around his palm and fingers. He covers his hand thoroughly and wraps it around Dick’s small circumcised penis. Bruce notices how his thumb overlaps his other fingers quite well, and, Dick will grow larger with time.

He moves slowly at first, let’s Dick get used to the feel of the lubricant and of Bruce’s skilled, calloused hand. The boy whimpers and immediately places the hand on his chest to his mouth.

“You don’t have to do that, Dick.” The teen looks at him, eyes so young and curious, “You can make as much noise as you like. I promise Alfred won’t hear.” The boy blushes deeper and puts his hand back on his chest.

“Do you want me to go a little faster?” The boy nods and Bruce picks up the pace, watching Dick writhe and arch in the most beautiful way. Bruce has always been amazed by his flexibility, but here in bed, he is even more so. Dick wraps his legs tighter around the man’s waist, moves with the pumping of Bruce’s hand.

“You’re really so stunning, Dick.”

Dick grins, lopsided, “If by ‘stunning’, you mean… *ah*… clumsy…”

“I don’t think ‘clumsy’ was born into your system,” Bruce adds a twist on the next jerk, watches Dick whimper and move his hips awkwardly. “When you do that, I’m amazed.”

“Mmm--*Bruce*…do that thing again…please?”

“Whatever you want.” He screws his palm around the boy’s penis. Dick moans, Bruce’s name is somewhere in the jumble of noises. He comes, loudly, beautifully; spurts come once over Bruce’s hand, then again over the underdeveloped muscles of his stomach.

Then, Bruce is caressing him, saying his name though Dick doesn’t realize it till moments later. The man’s eyes are--he’s grinning behind the blue irises, again, another emotion only Dick and Alfred could detect, just like when he’s behind the cowl.

“Bruce…?”

“Was it good?”

“Yes…thank you, ummm…what about *you*?”

“You don’t have to give me anything.”

Dick uncoils himself from the man and notices his semen covered hand, the one he had-- “Bruce?”

“Yes?”

“Your hand…”

The man raises it up, looks at the thick, white liquid sprayed over his flesh and smirks. “I’ll just grab a tissue--”

Dick pulls himself up using the man’s muscular wrist and licks the back of Bruce’s index finger where a particularly big splotch is. The come tastes odd on his tongue and he makes a little face as he swallows it down.

“Dick, you shouldn’t…”

The boy brings the hand to his mouth, sucks in the middle finger. He wraps his tongue around it, cleans it completely before Bruce pulls it from between his lips.

“You don’t know what you’re doing by…acting that way.” Bruce pulls the pajama shirt off the boy’s arms and wipes the semen off his hand and Dick’s abdomen. “When you do something like that…it’s meant to entice the other person.” He throws the shirt onto the floor and looks Dick straight in the eye. “You shouldn’t do something like that if you don’t want to go further.”

“Bruce, I--”

“No. I love you, Dick, but you’re not ready for something like that yet.” Bruce smiles sincerely, runs his hand down the boy’s cheek to the middle of his chest. He lets himself enjoy the feel of soft, untainted skin, so warm after something like--

Dick kisses him: chastely, inexperienced, beautifully. His lips are so pink and smooth against Bruce’s. “I can still sleep here, right?”

Bruce chuckles lightly, “Yes…but I’m going to take a quick shower.”

“You’re…?” He reaches a hand towards the sheets covering Bruce’s penis, and makes a nervous twitch in his eye. The man takes his wrist and pushes his small body back against the bed.

“Not yet. Maybe someday--”

“You’ll let me touch you?”

“Yes.” He kisses the boy’s forehead and strokes his thumb where Robin’s domino mask would cover the skin under his left eye. “Go to sleep, I’ll be back in a bit.”

“I…I love you, Bruce.”

“Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake in the morning.”

“You better be, or I’m telling Alfred.”

He stays until Dick’s steady breathing shows him sleeping, curled up in Bruce’s bed sheets. The man doesn’t bother with a robe, just makes his way into the master bath, shuts the door and turns the water to hot.

Dick is…beautiful, perfect, untainted. It’s wrong that he wants him so much, that he thinks of only Dick when he wraps his hand around his erection and jerks until he comes against the shower tile, moaning the bird’s name.

The evidence washes away quickly, along with a bit of his control. Dick is so *giving* and so *wanting*, so willing. Bruce fists his hands along the smooth surface of the shower and sighs.

Dick will want it all eventually.