Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/180869.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Batman:_The_Animated_Series, Batman_(Unspecified_canon)
  Relationship:
      Batman/Robin, Dick_Grayson/Bruce_Wayne
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-04-10 Words: 956
****** Lay Siege ******
by drvology
Summary
     Dick had learned from failure, the hard way. But he'd still learned.
Notes
     B:TAS is my favorite Batverse incarnation; it's become my default
     setting when imagining the characters &c. That established, I think
     the fic I write can be aptly labeled 'canon & time nonspecific.'
     → Written in an hour for 60_minute_fics challenge group @ LJ ||
     011207 Prompt #1 Fortune Cookies -- Go to the magic Fortune Cookie
     Generator and something fun to work into your fic. -- The attacker
     must vanquish; the defender need only survive.
He had learned the hard way. Seduction meant to entice or beguile by winning
over. Not chasing after your intended with a hammer and crowbar. In failure he
had learned.
Dick shifted, rocked back and flexed his legs wider, smile-grimaced into his
forearm.
At fourteen he'd run around ready to shortcircuit. Always ready, horny, made it
oh-so-subtly clear that his every nerve jump-jerked from the very air Bruce
stirred. He'd prance around, hard in too tight jeans and threadbare t-shirt, or
strut in soft gray shorts heavy with sweat after a workout and nothing else.
Always with something to eat, or drink, or he'd worry his lips with teeth and
fingers. Mention everything that sounded sexy or leading and double entendre
has nothing on this, baby. Hair tousled, mouth parted full pout as he breathed.
A tongue swipe, here and there. Every effort focused on yeah you want it.
He'd imagined himself as quite the irresistible thing. Instead, all his
ridiculous overt posturing had made him easier to ignore. Easier to dismiss as
childish and uncomprehending of what he was asking for. Easier for Bruce to
close down look away eyes dark and hooded and Dick remembered during that year
they never, ever touched.
Bruce thrust in further, out and again, and Dick moaned and arched his back.
At fifteen he'd ditched the furious play-at and tried for the real thing.
Forget about making Bruce notice him from afar--he made Bruce notice him right
here and now bucko. Perched on the corner of Bruce's desk in the study, stretch
with a sigh for something far on the other side he was suddenly interested in.
Brush and feather and press into Bruce at every given opportunity. Whoops, I
guess I forgot how wide the hallway is, sorry, I should watch where I'm going.
Hands on himself where he'd like Bruce to feel, absent-minded caresses and
swirls. Every effort focused on give it to me.
He'd known when he launched himself full tilt at Bruce that he couldn't--
wouldn't--fail. Had hungered for kisses certain to answer, rough hands over him
unable not to capitulate. Groans deep and sensuous then that magical
progression from groping in the Cave to naked in bed, kiss never broken.
Instead, his every assault had been met with cold denial, him set away and told
no and the very worse, ignored. Go in for the kill- there's always a victim.
Dick splayed his fingers and his head fell forward, grit of concrete scrape as
his gloves scratched deep.
At sixteen he'd figured out what he'd done wrong. Actions and reactions,
stimuli and response, clues and answers. He had studied under--learned from--
the best. Knew what to do, what not to do, that he and Bruce were all or
nothing, not his boyishly passionate attacks nor Bruce's I-must rebuffs.
Sit by the fire burning mellow orangeyellow absorbed in a book, simply keeping
time with Bruce in the study, offer to go for tea when his pot poured dry.
Wriggle and hitch and grin while he walked, taking in the roses and their
smell, just that little bit extra sway at his hips but nothing that wasn't
naturally him. Talk of all manner of things, this and that and anything,
whatever got him excited and flushed, ready with laughter or argumentative
pique or satisfied agreement. Every effort focused on be with me, let me be
with you.
Bruce bit into his neck, pushed into his tummy lift-up feel me deep with one
hand, pounded away hard and even and good.
At seventeen they were settled into relationship, past first kisses and
learning tastes, Dick curled in Bruce's lap in his desk chair well established,
blowjobs and handjobs and can't get enough of the feel of your skin, glances
and touches somewhat better paced but no less urgent. Fingers slow strokes in
hair, languid trails along jean and dresspant seams, feet toetip touched under
the table at dinner. Sex--made love--Dick ready and needing and wide open and
when Bruce at last slid inside the ache he'd carried for so long muted from
longing to having, and something had settled and sighed and both knew without
saying.
It hadn't been his to scale or take or demand. Too used to that, he supposed,
too used to Bruce giving in. Too needing of Bruce to see him and have him. The
stronger his attacks the more brutal his repulsions. The less he was him the
further he got from what Bruce truly wanted. The greater his insistence the
harder it was for Bruce to give in and allow and believe. Every effort focused
on yes this is real and it's right.
Dick gasped and came in Bruce's hand, stared blind at Gotham dizzy so far
below, leathery cape around him heavy like arms, heat of Batman's breath and
body and cock his only awareness.
At eighteen he'd quirked a smile and launched a batarang and skipped to another
rooftop. Out on a mundane Tuesday night and thankfully not much in the offing.
Followed instructions but offered his own take, amused without forgetting the
task at hand, allowed Batman and the night to guide him. Got caught then pinned
and can't stand it anymore it'll be here and now after that smile, after how
good you are out here, with me. Every effort focused on being fucked, now, so
ready so needing it's mine it's yours us.
Bruce's come was hot and perfect and he strained, kept rutting neither wanting
for this to be over would keep rutting until both were hard again and they
could assuage just once more, so comfortably hungry for Dick and secure enough
to take what had always been given.
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