Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8631928.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Batman_-_All_Media_Types, Young_Justice_(Cartoon)
  Relationship:
      Dick_Grayson/Bruce_Wayne
  Character:
      Dick_Grayson, Bruce_Wayne, Roy_Harper, Wally_West, Damian_Wayne, Alfred
      Pennyworth
  Additional Tags:
      Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Mating_Cycles/In_Heat, Rough_Sex, Dubious
      Consent, Underage_Sex, Inappropriate_Behavior, Age_Difference, Mutual
      Pining, Angst_and_Porn, Tragic_Romance, This_is_the_beginning, where
      Bruce_is_an_asshole, and_things_are_shitty, Sad_Ending, because_things
      get_fixed_in_the_first_fic, overall_this_series_has_a_happy_ending,
      Mpreg, ish
  Series:
      Part 5 of Mamabird_Universe
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-23 Words: 9217
****** we won't be apart for long ******
by Laroyena
Summary
     The truth was, he knew he spoiled Dick too much.
     (Batman Omegaverse: the beginning and the end of the Dynamic Duo.
     Dick may only be fifteen, but he is beautiful. In which Bruce is
     inappropriate as hell.)
Notes
     There've been a couple requests for me to write out the beginning of
     Dick and Bruce's relationship in the Mamabird Universe, and after a
     while I decided to give my best shot. This story is mostly tragic-
     - not a very happy ending at all, mostly because things are resolved
     later on in their life (in the first fic, what_happened_across_the
     sea.)
     Mamabird!Bruce is probably the most assholeish of all my Bruces.
     Warning for super inappropriate and problematic behavior from
     everyone, and for general crazytown shenanigans. Bonus extra for
     those who've been keeping up with the rest of the verse. Thanks and
     happy thanksgiving for my fellow Americans *u*
     (btw Aeedee is like amazing at inappropriate Brudick porn and I have
     absorbed a lot of headcanons from all their fics. Shout out for
     inspiring me to write my own;;;;)
See the end of the work for more notes
The truth was, he knew he spoiled Dick too much. He went up against enemies far
stronger than himself on a regular basis. Facing down the boy’s teary pout
should’ve been nothing.
“Bruce,” the boy said, eyes big and blue. He’s snuggle against his side, soft
and warm and smelling like his. “It’s cold in my room.”
That was just an excuse. Still, Bruce was never able to turn him away from his
bed. Dick settled comfortably in the crook of his arm. He buried his little
nose into his neck and sighed, and Bruce couldn’t help but nuzzle his hair in
return. Dick smelled sweet. Soft.
It was a big reason why he never refused him, even when he knew for a fact that
Dick was getting far too old to be sleeping with him. That this, in a sinking
and definite manner, was wrong.
--
Dick was thirteen when he had his first heat.
He’d been acting clingier than usual the last few days: more tactile and
demanding despite all the progress they’d made this year in establishing
Appropriate Boundaries. He walked into the dining room where his guardian sat
reading the newspaper and climbed into his lap like he was nine again, and he
was so very distracting.
“Dick,” he finally chided. The teenager let out a little whine and wrapped his
arms around Bruce’s shoulders. He whined again when Bruce tried pulling him
off, and something about its pitch thawed Bruce’s heart. He shouldn’t. But if
anyone could test his control it was Dick, and so he sighed and curled an arm
around his waist in grudging assent.
Dick melted against him. He was warm and—not exactly soft now that he was at
the cusp of puberty, but a welcome weight in his arms. Bruce had almost
successfully gone back to reading his newspaper when he realized that Dick was
pressing soft, appreciative kisses to his jaw. And Bruce. Bruce was loathed to
stop him, to his shame.
“B,” Dick sighed, cheeks flushed a pretty pink. “It’s so hot in here, I’m
dying.”
He kissed his jaw again, slower and a bit harder, which was when Bruce finally
came to his senses and put the newspaper down.
He gently tugged Dick’s head back and pressed his nose to the boy’s neck. Bruce
stiffened at the unmistakable, cloying scent there.
“Dick,” he said when Dick tried snuggling close. The boy made a distressed
noise when Bruce put up a large hand and stopped him in his tracks. “You’re
going into heat. I’ll have Alfred take you to your room.” He had to be firm and
authoritative. Dick was a pushy brat, after all. He called out, “Alfred!”
“No,” Dick looked devastated, like Bruce had just slaughtered his puppy or
something. “No, B, I wanna stay with you.”
“You can’t.” Everything from I’m an alpha to I don’t know what I’ll do to you
to that would be a very bad idea.
“But I want to.”
“That doesn’t matter,” and Bruce’s voice came out harsh with his own
frustration. Because some shameful, dark part of himself itched to grab the boy
and haul him into his room. Some territorial alpha instinct wanted to take what
was so sweetly given, hear more of those pleasurable sounds—
“Alfred,” he called out again, voice more strangled.
The butler emerged and only had to take one look at the scene to understand
what was happening.
“No!” Dick struggled when Alfred took a firm grip around his arm. He bared his
teeth, omega instincts already riling up. “No, Alfred. I want to stay with
Bruce.”
“Master Dick, behave yourself,” Alfred said in his sharpest, most butler-iest
voice. Dick’s eyes filled with tears, and Bruce wanted to—
He wanted to—
He abruptly stood from his chair and marched into his study.
He closed those huge mahogany doors to the sound of Dick’s heartbroken cries,
his heart twisting unhappily at the omega’s distress. He could still smell Dick
on him. He could still feel Dick’s warmth against him, open and willing and
practically begging for him.
But Dick was only thirteen, and Bruce was an adult. It meant he had to be the
responsible one, no matter how much it hurt.
--
It took an enormous amount of willpower not to knock down Dick’s door when he
heard the boy’s plaintive voice calling out for him.
“Bruce,” he whimpered, audible enough for him to hear it even through the walls
and hallway. “B-Bruce…”
He made it all the way to the front of the boy’s door before stopping himself.
Clenching his fists so hard his nails dug into his palm, Bruce settled onto his
haunches. Ignored the way his cock stiffened just a bit at the delicious smell
emanating from inside, because Dick had always smelled nice and Bruce had
always had control. He needed control. Except Dick could clearly smell him too,
and there was the sound of scuffling coming from within.
“Bruce?” Dick’s voice said, just on the other side of the door. After a lengthy
moment broken only by the boy’s faint distressed noises, he saw small fingers
wriggle through the crack beneath his door.
He couldn’t help himself. He curled his own hand on those fingers and lay there
in the hallway as Dick whimpered. He lay there as the boy tugged his fingers
through to the other side and licked them, his small tongue warm and wet
against his calluses. Dear god. It wasn’t good for either of them to do this.
To let Dick find comfort in Bruce’s alpha scent so close to the door, because
habits once established were hard to break. Dick needed to separate himself
from Bruce. He knew that.
But Bruce was selfish. He was selfish and weak and he hated hearing Dick upset,
and so here he was doing all he could short of breaking down the door and
sweeping Dick into his arms. If his omega wanted to soak in his scent, he was
going to let him. If he wanted to taste his fingers and say his name over and
over, he was going to let him. He’d give him the world.
He knew he spoiled Dick too much. He knew it, but he couldn’t stop.
--
“You don’t need me to tell you,” Alfred told him the day after Dick’s heat had
finally ended. The butler had dragged the exhausted boy into the bathroom for a
much-needed shower and then tucked him into bed.
Bruce brushed back a few stray locks from Dick’s face and shivered when the
sleeping boy leaned into his touch.
“It’s infatuation,” he tried explaining to his old friend. “I’m his family
alpha, and he’s too young to figure out the difference between a family alpha
and a… a mating alpha. His signals are getting crossed.”
Alfred raised a disbelieving brow at him, and Bruce shook his head. He stroked
Dick’s cheek with a thumb before finally letting go.
“He istoo young,” Alfred said. “But I doubt Dick is ignorant of what he is
doing. I just wanted to make sure you know what you’re doing as well.” A stiff
pause. “I don’t want either of you hurt.”
Bruce nodded and quietly exited the guest room Alfred had placed the boy in as
he cleaned. He shut the door behind him and tried to breathe.
If he went out and bedded a beautiful debutante to take his mind off of the
temptation at home, that was his business.
Even if he avoided going home for a few days so her cloying omega scent faded
away, though that didn’t stop Dick from throwing him a heartbroken look when he
finally did return.
“Dick,” he started, and shut his mouth when the young boy turned heel and fled
back to his room. The rejection smarted, even if he deserved it.
This was better for both of them. Dick will see that in time.
--
Dick stopped crawling into his bed.
It was a good sign. The boy was moving on, as he should; developing healthier
relationships with others his own age and therefore less dependant on Bruce’s
affection.
It was a good sign.
--
Dick was a beautiful omega. Everyone told him so, and those who couldn’t find
the courage for words told him in the way they looked at him. Dick couldn’t
help but throw a wink at the shy ones and watch them burn tomato red.
“Really, Robin?” Speedy said, annoyed. Robin smiled at him even as the alpha
boy leapt down from his vantage point above and curled an arm around his
shoulder. “Aren’t you supposed to make sure no one’s goofing off, team leader?”
“Yeah, but KF’s still got fifteen minutes to get us the info,” Dick said. He
neatly shook off Roy’s hold and danced over to the fire escape. He could feel
the alpha’s gaze tracing the curve of his shoulder, the delicate flare of his
hips. It lingered on his ass before heading down to his smooth ankles.
Dick curled his cape below him and swung his legs, nonchalant.
“So while Wally takes his sweet old time,” Roy said, shouldering his bow. “How
‘bout we talk about something else. Like that new movie’s that coming out.”
“The one with the snake man or the one with sticky webs?”
“Snake man? Oh, Harry Potter,” Roy shook his head. “Whichever one you like
better.”
Dick considered him. Roy’s interest in him was… cute. It was nice to be so
overtly wanted; to know that, on a date, he could smile and kiss and sigh and
be greeted with enthusiasm. It was a dick move even for someone named Dick, but
he couldn’t help it.
“Sure,” he said, and smiled when Roy threw a genuine grin at him in return.
“Tomorrow night, yeah?”
“It’s a date,” Speedy agreed. He was bold enough to offer a hand to help him
down; bold enough to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks.
“Make sure you pick me up at the post office, though,” Dick said before he
could forget. He always had his dates pick him up at the post office. It hadn’t
happened yet, but Dick suspected Bruce would tear the limbs off any alpha
stupid enough to try and pick Dick up from home.
He may play this game far too much to be innocent, but he drew the line at
actual carnage. Bruce would never forgive himself, and then Dick wouldn’t have
a chance at all.
--
“Dick,” Bruce’s voice greeted him the moment he came home. Dick sighed and
flicked on the light, illuminating the room and casting a strange glow onto his
guardian’s face. Apparently Bruce had been waiting for him on the couch, the
creep. “Where have you been.”
“Around,” Dick said, tossing his jacket onto a chair. He plopped down in the
chair beside it and turned so he was facing away from Bruce, ignoring him
entirely. He didn’t move, not even when that tantalizing scent drew closer and
closer. Bruce had always smelled sinfully good: like home and sex and crackling
power. Like lazy mornings and warm cuddles, and Dick wanted to bury himself in
it forever. Still, that would ruin the game. He shivered when a large hand
cradled his jaw from behind and tilted his head up.
“You were with someone,” Bruce said, voice flat. His fingers were rough but
warm, and Dick purred into the touch. “Who?”
“Speedy.”
“Oliver’s kid?” and then Bruce’s grip tightened just a bit. Dick gently put a
hand on his wrist, placating. “He’s an alpha.”
“Hm,” Dick agreed. He turned and gave Bruce a coy look, inwardly thrilling at
the expression Bruce was wearing. “Whatcha gonna do about it?”
Bruce narrowed his eyes at him. It was amazing how easily Bruce convinced the
other heroes that he was a Responsible Adult, like he wasn’t one of the
youngest members of the Justice League at under thirty-years-old. That despite
getting his undergrad at—what? Seventeen?—his emotional maturity fluctuated
between a toddler and a college freshman, and sometimes one had to just sit
through a sulking or two to get anything out of him.
Hence, the game.
“Nothing,” Bruce finally said. He didn’t take his hand away, even when Dick
tilted his head and pursed his lips. “Though you should be careful.”
“Why?”
“He’s an alpha.”
“So?”
“He’s older than you.”
“Hmm,” and Dick couldn’t help the lazy grin spreading across his face. Bruce
released his chin when Dick turned around fully and sat up. He looped his arms
around the man’s broad shoulders and nuzzled his stubbled cheek. “You’re both
those things, B. Y’saying I should be careful ‘round you?”
Bruce’s hands settled on his hips, less of a suggestion and more of a warning.
He growled in a low enough voice to send a shiver up Dick’s spine, “Always.”
And then he picked Dick up like he weighed nothing and hauled him upstairs.
Dick laughed and wrapped his legs around his waist. He cuddled as close as he
could, because even though Bruce was probably just going to toss him in his
room and slam the door, Dick had clearly won this round.
“Good night,” Dick chirped once Bruce disentangled himself before his room.
“Sweet dreams.”
“Brat,” Bruce hissed and stalked into his own room without a look back.
Dick licked his lips as he got ready for bed. The lingering alpha scent on his
skin sent something hot sizzling down to his groin, but what was new. He’d been
barely thirteen when he decided who he wanted to be his alpha; and anyone who
knew Dick Grayson knew he could be a stubborn son of a bitch.
--
The date was fine.
Speedy was a gentleman, Robin was appropriately enthused by the movie, and
things were great.
Until after Dick had paid for dinner and skipped back to the table to find Roy
sighing into his hands. Oh.
“I can’t compete with him, can I?” the redhead turned to him boldly, gaze sad
but accepting. Roy had always been observant, enough so that he should have
guessed the archer would figure the game out.
Still, Dick evaded: “Who?”
“Batman,” Speedy clarified, which Dick had to give him credit for. Not everyone
could voice it aloud so easily. “Y’know I’m not dumb, right?”
“You’re not,” Dick agreed. He put a hand on Roy’s and said, gently, “And you
are a good alpha. Handsome. Smart.”
“But I can’t compete,” Roy finished.
Dick may be an asshole, but he wasn’t going to lie. He nodded and watched with
mixed emotion as Roy gathered his coat and strode out the door. One reason he’d
accepted Roy’s offer in the first place was because of his maturity and
steadfastness.
No matter how shitty things felt right now, their friendship will survive.
--
A Teen Titan mission gone wrong ended with a syringe in Dick’s neck.
“Ah fuck,” Kid Flash muttered while reading the spectrometer results from his
impromptu substance analysis. Dick stared blankly at the ceiling above them.
“Fuck, fuck.”
“No thank you,” Dick grumbled from the table.
“It’s a heat inducer,” Wally said. “High-grade stuff, super concentrated. Used
in the sex slave rings, clearly.”
“How long.”
Wally didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “At least thirty minutes from injection
so… in ten minutes or so.”
Dick grunted and rolled onto his stomach. Wally threw him an alarmed look when
he stumbled towards the exit.
“Dick!” Wally grabbed his arm. Dick glared at him and shook his hand off.
“You’re not going anywhere—not in this state!”
“You think I can’t fight off any alpha that tries to get frisky.”
“No, I just—Dick, there’s no getting around this,” and Wally actually looked
nervous, like it was any news to Dick that a high-grade heat inducer could
actually, you know. Induce heat. The higher grade the drug was, the more dire
the consequences of ignoring its effects.
Wally picked at his sleeve and glanced down at the floor. “You’ll probably have
to find a partner for this, and I know. I know things are awkward between you
and Roy, but it seems like the best option…”
“No.”
“Well the other choices are me and Garth, and I know we’re friends but I
don’t…”
“No.”
“Dick,” Wally pled, but he was already stumbling towards the zeta platform.
“Dick! Where are you going?”
“Home,” Dick said—and then held his breath just as he threw a sleeping bomb at
Wally’s dumbstruck face.
--
“Robin?” a familiar voice asked. Dick wiped his forehead with a forearm and
glanced back towards the mouth of the alley, where good old Commissioner Gordon
was looking at him like he’d grown two heads.
“Uh, yeah, sorry Commissioner. Self-defense. You know how it is. They’re
alive,” Dick reassured him once the commissioner stepped forward to look at the
badly-beaten alphas at his feet. “Just. Not exactly in the best state to be
subtle.”
And before he could get a good enough whiff of his rapidly deteriorating state,
Dick shot a grapple line up and swung onto the nearest rooftop. He managed to
flip and stumble over a few blocks before he had to take a breather. He must
have been more out of it than he’d thought, because one second he was slumped
behind a poorly-kept exhaust pipe and the next, there was a familiar dark
shadow looming above him.
“Bruce,” he recognized at once. Bruce actually let him wrap his arms around his
neck and press his face into his shoulder; let him breathe his calming alpha
smell until the worst of his irrational, instinctual panic passed. He hadn’t
realized how on-edge he’d been until Bruce’s grip around Dick’s waist eased the
heat’s fears.
Foreign alphas; crowded, open spaces; unfamiliar territory and no pack in
sight. A terrible situation for a vulnerable omega, even one who could take
down five alphas with nothing but his stupid, slicked-up thighs and a bloody
batarang.
Bruce carefully scooped him up and carried him to the Batmobile, Dick clinging
to his cowl the entire way. When he tried to settle Dick in the backseat,
however, the boy put up a fight.
“No,” he whined, tightening his grip. “No, wanna stay with you.” He was limber
and flexible and very used to clinging to struggling objects, and so Bruce gave
up after a few more minutes of struggling. He threw the keys over the separator
between the front and back compartments—to Alfred, undoubtedly, though Dick
barely had the brain power to care—and crawled into the backseat with Dick, who
curled against him at once.
The car roared to life below them.
It was warm. Warm and dizzying and everything he hated the most about heats,
but he was safe.
He undid his jockstrap and pulled down the worst of his slick-soaked tights,
exposing himself shamelessly. Given that he was still in Bruce’s lap, he
probably should have been more embarrassed. He wasn’t.
“You should have called one of us,” Bruce said, showing jaw-dropping self-
restraint for an alpha. Dick would have been impressed if he wasn’t dying to be
mauled. The omega whined when he rested a large hand on his bare hip and left
it there. God,he could barely think… “Wandering Gotham in broad daylight
smelling like that…”
“Beat the crazies up,” Dick tried to defend himself, pressing his face into
Bruce’s cowled neck.
“In broad daylight. Commissioner Gordon just had to follow the trail of
bleeding bodies to find you. Reckless. Stupid.”
“No,” Dick whined. He hated being scolded.
“Called me the moment you ran. You could have gotten hurt.”
Dick licked his exposed jaw in an attempt to stop the disapproval. The air
immediately changed, going sharp and almost spicy with alpha scent. It was the
scent that haunted his wet dreams, and Dick couldn’t help but tilt his head and
lick him again. He placed his hand on Bruce’s chest to balance himself as he
kissed his jaw, and the older man’s heart beat erratically under his palm.
“Enough,” Bruce said in direct contrast to how his hand squeezed his side; how
dark his pupils were in the sunlight; how his erection pressed hot against his
ass. Dick couldn’t help but roll his hips just a bit, and shivered when the
cock beneath him swelled even further.
Bruce’s hands twitched.
“Bruce,” Dick pled. He straddled the man’s lap entirely, wriggling so his
clothed erection fit snuggly between his thighs. Bruce let out a hard breath,
and Dick knew him enough to recognize that sound. Aroused. Frustrated. He
waited until his own thumping heartbeat slowed before gently deactivating the
safeguards around Batman’s cowl.
He pulled it back with steady hands.
Bruce’s bare face stared back at him with assessing, brilliant eyes, even as
his cheeks flushed prettily. God, he was so handsome.
“Bruce,” he repeated, and then cradled his alpha’s jaw in his hands. “Take care
of me?”
Bruce sighed: “Dick.”
“Came home just for you,” Dick stressed. He kissed him under a sapphire-blue
eye and stroked beneath it with a thumb. “Please.”
“You’re fifteen,” Bruce said lowly. His eyes fluttered shut when Dick kissed
him under his other eye, and Dick knew he was starting to really crack through
that wall of self-restraint. “You’re too young.”
“Someone has to take care of me,” Dick said. He leaned in and kissed him on the
lips, licking in confidently and sighing at the taste of Bruce’s mouth. At the
gentle way the alpha kissed him back, and he could’ve gotten swept up in it if
Bruce hadn’t pulled away first. Dick whined and nuzzled his cheek. “Want it to
be you, B.”
“Dick…”
“Please,” Dick whispered, and felt his heart flutter when Bruce finally,
finally nodded.
--
They didn’t even make it to the bedroom.
Alfred, bless him, handled necessary responsibilities like parking the
Batmobile and hunting down warm towels; and Dick would’ve been more mortified
by the butler’s unintentional voyeurism if he wasn’t so busy licking into
Bruce’s mouth.
“Bruce,” he whined when the alpha shoved him onto the medbay cot, clearly
dismissing the idea of hauling him up two flights of stairs. Dick gasped when
Bruce ran his sharp alpha teeth down his neck, as he undid the top two buttons
of his Robin collar and licked into the dip of his collarbone. He squirmed when
a large hand pressed against his own erection, the heel of Bruce’s palm rough
under his cockhead and his fingers resting still against his sensitivevestigial
balls.
“Touch me,” he pled, running his hands around Bruce’s side and fondling with
his utility belt. “Please, please—”
“Dick,” Bruce said, and Dick shut up. Bruce didn’t respond to pleading, only
requests. Still, he mewled unhappily when the alpha pressed a soft kiss to the
corner of his mouth. When he kept his hand pressed against his erection, a
steady pressure that felt good but just wasn’t enough.
“Dick,” Bruce repeated.
“Please,” Dick whispered once more, and it must have been piteous enough
because Bruce did. He wrapped a firm hand around his cock and carefully
stroked, and it was—it was warm and pleasant and sent shivers up Dick’s spine.
He tilted his head back and licked his lips until Bruce kissed him.
They kissed over and over, each one a hot promise as Dick lightly thrust into
Bruce’s fist. As he managed to wriggle out of his pants and underwear so he
could spread his legs freely. He began to shiver harder, longer, toes curling
and uncurling as the heat built up under his skin—and Bruce began to jerk him
off in earnest. Running a stray finger under the sensitive underside of the
head; reaching down with his other hand and lightly rolling his balls; and then
reaching further back to where he was soaked, stroking his perineum—
He came with a whine, spilling clear fluid onto Bruce’s Batsuit and filling the
air around them with the smell of slick. It felt amazing but it wasn’t
completion, not when his entire being ached more than ever. He needed Bruce out
of those clothes now.
When he went to unbuckle Bruce’s belt with nimble fingers, however, Bruce
grabbed him by the wrist and manhandled him onto his back.
“Dick, this is going to hurt,” Bruce warned, unbuckling the belt himself and
tossing it aside. The pants went next, and there his naked cock was. Swollen
red and wet with pre-cum, unfamiliar enough Dick couldn’t help but stare. And
then Bruce grabbed his ankles and practically bent him in half, legs hooked
over broad shoulders, and—
“Fuck,” Dick yelped, his entire body jerking in pain. He grabbed the back of
Bruce’s neck and squeezed so hard his fingers bled white. “No, it’s not going
to—you’re not going to fit—”
“I know you can take it,” B said, voice only a little hoarse. He kissed into
Dick’s mouth like that would distract him from the stinging, burning sensation
of being split open on the head of his cock; the relentless push inward as
unused muscle was forced to stretch around an intrusion. It hurt as much as it
felt just right, and the juxtaposition was making his head spin. “You’re slick
enough. Just relax.”
“O-okay,” Dick tried to breathe. He wanted him deep inside as much as he wanted
him out. Bruce kissed him again, soft and gentle, and soothed his sides with
his calloused hands. He ran them up his arms and then down to his waist, until
he was caressing Dick’s ass like it was the most precious thing in the world.
Dick sighed into the next kiss and the next, and only winced a little when
Bruce finally managed to slide all the way in.
“You’re so tight,” Bruce whispered, eyes fluttering shut. He looked…
enraptured, and even past the discomfort it turned Dick on to see him in
pleasure. “So tight and hot, Dick, it’s…”
“Too big,” Dick couldn’t help but complain, and yelped when the cock inside of
him swelled further. “Hey!”
Bruce grunted in apology. “Needed to get in you.” A heavy pause. Dick took a
breath. Then another. He was unclenching slowly—very slowly—taking advantage of
every second Bruce stayed still.
Then, Bruce managed in a near-whisper: “I think your scent’s sending me into a
rut. Be ready.”
“For wha—” Dick managed, right before Bruce drew back and fucked into him deep.
He yelped in surprise, but that didn’t stop the alpha. He fucked him with long,
hard thrusts that hurt, that knocked the breath right out of him until he
couldn’t tell what was up or down.
“Bruce,” he whined, one hand caught between shoving the alpha off and pulling
him so close they lived in each other’s skin. He could only flounder in the
helpless feeling of being bent in half and trapped under the alpha’s weight,
being forced to simply take the savage pace. “So—too fast—”
“Bear it,” Bruce said gruffly. It would have been callous from anyone else, but
Dick knew what B meant: that Dick was strong enough to handle this. That he
trusted Dick to be strong enough, and he hated that and loved that and he could
barely think.
He pressed his face into Bruce’s neck and took deep breaths of that familiar
alpha scent. He let it warm his omega heart until his heat purred in pleasure;
until the pounding began to hurt less and less as it started to soothe that
ache inside of him; until Dick’s little whimpers were less in grimaced pain and
more in arousal.
“Let my legs go,” he squirmed against the hands keeping his thighs firmly
pressed to his chest. Bruce had slowed just a bit, subconsciously reacting to
his body’s acceptance. “I can’t—I can’t move like this.”
He let out a startled noise when Bruce let go and hauled him up so fast he
nearly kicked him in the face with his flying legs. It was enough to dislodge
his cock with a pop, and Dick missed its weight for about two seconds before
Bruce rearranged him in his lap and pulled him down again. The smooth slide in
surprised him; his body had adjusted faster than he’d thought.
“Oh,” Dick sighed once they were fully locked together again. He kissed Bruce’s
cheeks, nose, mouth in soft affection, wrapping his arms around his neck and
purring when large hands settled on his hip and the upper curve of his ass.
When the alpha began thrusting up into him again, Dick was free to roll his
hips down. It was so right he wanted to cry. “Oh yes—”
The ache started to spread, a warm deep-seated pleasure that started from that
sweet spot inside and radiated out to his cock, chest and up his spine. Until
Dick was fucking down as hard as Bruce was fucking up, kissing him adoringly
because he was soclose—
He gasped into his mouth as he came, though this time from the inside rather
than out. It was a foreign feeling of satisfaction, different than the solo
heats he’d had before. This was real and right, and this beautiful man below
him was his alpha. His.Bruce groaned as Dick continued to clench around him. As
his half-swollen knot swelled even further inside Dick’s channel until it
finally locked them in place.
They breathed each other’s air while tied together, coming down from the blood-
rushing endorphins his heat had incited in both of them. Then Bruce bowed his
head and moaned deep and low and Dick’s insides went hot. Oh fuck.
Bruce was cominginside of him, and Dick wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it.
He snuffled B’s neck to keep from giggling like a maniac, and easily allowed
the alpha to pull them down onto the badly rattling cart and arrange them on
their sides. Dick hooked his free leg over Bruce’s hip and snuggled closer,
comforted by the warm weight of his alpha’s cock pulsing inside of him. They
were as close as they could get. As close they had always been spiritually,
because this had all started before Dick’s first heat, no matter how much Bruce
denied it.
It hadn't taken long for Dick to know that Bruce he was his.
“Dick,” Bruce managed after fifteen minutes spent just stroking the omega’s
arm. Dick wrinkled his nose and pulled down Batman’s ragged cowl enough to
really kiss his neck. “Dick.”
“Hmm,” Dick purred in response. Bruce smelled so good. He smelled even better
than he tasted or sounded, and Dick loved both of those things. He ground down
on their tie when Bruce opened his mouth to try again, and the older man
growled in reprimand. Didn’t stop him from looping an arm around Dick’s waist
and coming once more, and Dick could get addicted to that flash of bliss on
Bruce’s face.
After another while, Bruce smartened up enough to blurt out his thought at
once: “This can’t happen again.”
Dick sighed. Bruce was already beginning to draw back into his shell, entire
body stiffening beside him, and Dick wondered why the man was so allergic to
open affection. He lay his head on Bruce’s chest and closed his eyes, like that
could stop him.
“This time… the compound in your system. Requires consummation to relieve its
effects. All other methods can drag it on for weeks and cause irreparable
damage.”
Dick sighed again. It was long and weary and there was no way Bruce couldn’t
hear the frustration in it.
His pedantic nonsense trailed off, and he managed: “This is… inappropriate. You
deserve the best. A good life.”
Dick didn’t open his eyes. He just lifted his free arm up and then gracelessly
plopped his hand on Bruce’s head. This got the man to shut up, especially once
he started carding his fingers through soft, dark hair and rubbing his thumb
against his temple.
“No,” he yawned, cracking his eyes open enough to see Bruce’s stoic face
grimacing down at him. “Thisisgoing to happen again.”
“Dick…” and that subtle waver in his otherwise Batman-ly voice meant he was
pleading for Dick to not press this further. To let them fall back into
whatever-the-hell they were doing before—which was impossible.
Dick nipped that idea in the bud without mercy.
“This is going to happen again,” he repeated before tracing his hand down to
cup Bruce’s jaw. He leaned in and kissed him hard and deep, possessive enough
something fundamental inside of him purred in pleasure.
Sure, the reality of Bruce’s infuriating habits of denial—of prioritizing
others over Dick, of prioritizing the missionover Dick—was going to hit him
over the head for real tomorrow. But that didn’t change what he said.
They’d crossed a line that was impossible to uncross, and there was no use
denying it.
--
(Wally looked at him askance for at least a week before working up the nerve to
ask.
“So,” he started. Dick ignored him and continued to input the coordinates Donna
had gotten them into the console. “You’re… better.”
“Yup.”
“Means you found someone after you, you know…” Wally mimed gagging. “Knocked me
out?”
Dick clicked enter. “…yup.”
“With who?”
“You know that’s not any of your business,” Dick frowned at the results to keep
from having to look at Wally directly.
His friend held up a hand. “Yeah, yeah, just. We’re BFFs, you know? I know it
was your first time… sharing your heat and everything. Just checking in.”
Dick softened and glanced over at the beta boy scratching the back of his neck.
There was a host of unspoken dialogue between them: that Wally only knew Dick
had found someone because he’d returned to the field so soon; that Dick’s
departing words left few options to the who question; and Dick’s refusal to say
left pretty much one awkward option.
Wally was nosy and unmannered, but he knew when to respect Dick’s space.
“I’m fine, Wall,” he said with a wry grin. “Really.”
“Okie-dokie,” the speedster bit his lip and that was the end of that.)
--
“You disobeyed a direct order.”
“If I hadn’t, you’d be a Batman pancake—”
“That jump was manageable.”
“Not in that weather!”
Bruce snarled at this ridiculous boy—teenager, he corrected himself, because at
sixteen Dick hadn’t been a child for a while. Even if he still acted like it,
given the petulant way the omega slumped in the passenger seat of the
Batmobile.
“Disobedience is not tolerated,” Bruce snapped. “You’re benched for the rest of
the mission.”
“Like hell I am!” Dick sat up and—breaking protocol again, because clearly he
was in a full-on teenage tantrum—tore off his domino mask and threw it into the
backseat. Bruce refused to let those angry blue eyes dissuade him. “I’m not
some kid you can boss around anymore. If you think I’m going to just sit back
and let you get yourself killed—”
“Put your mask back on,” Bruce snapped.
“—then you’re wrong, because I won’t!”
“This isn’t up for debate. Now put your mask back on.”
“No,” Dick refused, and only set his jaw even further when Bruce pulled the
Batmobile over on the abandoned edge of the access tunnel they’d been coasting
in. He shut off the engine.
“Robin,” Bruce said, voice a low growl. One more out, and the boy better take
it.
Dick just crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat.
“No,” the boy said flatly—and was smart enough not to yell when Bruce suddenly
lurched forward and shoved him face-first into the window. He grabbed one
gloved hand and twisted it behind his back. Placed his mouth against the
sensitive skin of Dick’s nape and let him feel the pinprick edges of his alpha
teeth, and Dick shivered beneath him.
“This is about trust, Robin,” he said stoically. He placed his other hand on
Dick’s hip. “It won’t work if you don’t trust my judgment. My ability to assess
my own skills. Insubordination only breeds dangerous strife.”
Dick hissed at him, back arching into Bruce’s touch. He forced himself to
control his breathing. Fuck. Dick was always beautiful, but nothing could beat
the sheer rage Bruce felt whenever Dick pulled stunts like this. Bucking
against established protocol to prove his independence and driving Bruce
completely insane in the process.
“Do you trust me,” Bruce said. Dick didn’t reply, and the alpha pressed his
alpha teeth more firmly on his neck. One bite. One bite and a lick and a mating
bond would link them together, tie this capricious omega to him in a far more
secure way than any flimsy wardship contract. It wasn’t irreversible, no, but
mating bonds were more difficult to break than a simple no-strings-attached
roll in the shack.
“Don’t,” Dick said when Bruce refused to let his neck go. He’d gone absolutely
still. “Bruce, don’t.”
“Do you trust me,” Bruce repeated. The omega breathed shallowly beneath him.
Not scared, no. Not his brave Robin.
“Always,” Dick finally sighed, and Bruce couldn’t help the flood of pleasure
that brought him. He was hard. Painfully hard, had been ever since Dick had
torn off his mask and began filling the air with distressed omega pheromones,
and he wanted so, so much to just take.
“But B, trust is a two-way street,” Dick continued. He reached his free hand
back and gently placed it over Bruce’s on his hip. His palm was rough from the
work but still slender with youth. “You said we’re partners. And partners
listen to each other.”
Bruce didn’t respond.
Dick took the silence as approval to continue: “They listen when one points out
that they’re acting like a self-sacrificing asshole.”
And then he used Bruce’s distracted pause to wriggle out of his one-arm hold
and kick Batman square in the chest. Bruce went crashing back into his seat,
honestly surprised for a second, and then Dick was crawling up his torso and
kissing him hard. It was angry and desperate, with no finesse involved as Dick
ignored tongue and teeth and breathing, honestly, not until Bruce yanked him
back by the hair.
Dick kneed him in the stomach in retaliation. Bruce grabbed him up by the thigh
hard enough to bruise, manhandling him onto his back with the omega fighting
him tooth and nail the entire way.
“Hate you,” Dick snarled, “Hate you, hate you.”
“I know,” Bruce unclasped his jockstrap and tossed it into the backseat to keep
the domino mask company. He tore off his pants and dipped his fingers inside
the boy’s slick entrance, and wasn’t sure if he was gratified or disappointed
when Dick wrapped his legs around his waist instead of, you know.
Kicking him in the face.
It wasn’t the first time they fucked in the Batmobile, and it wouldn’t be the
last. Even if it was almost unbearably uncomfortable to sprawl over the cup-
holders between the two seats; to squeeze two men in a space not meant to be
used for horizontal activities; to sometimes catch Dick crying in frustration.
Not in pain.
“I worry about you,” Dick whispered, shivering as Bruce sank into him. He
spread around him so easily now, like a perfect fit, and it felt so good.
Unrightfully good. “Bruce, please.”
He couldn’t say anything that wouldn’t send both of them into another raging
argument, and so he pressed soft kisses to Dick’s eyelids instead. The omega
mewled in protest but didn’t push—just fell into the gratifying rhythm of them
moving together. They took pleasure in each other’s bodies, because Dick… Dick
felt right.
It was in these perfect moments that Bruce could pretends things were okay. Not
strained or balanced or on the cusp of exploding as it usually was. That with
this beautiful omega moaning and writhing beneath him—around him—things were
going to be okay.
--
Selina slapped him hard on the cheek. The pain of it nearly rivaled the way
Bruce’s heart bled when Dick caught sight of them kissing in the parlor. The
boy had fled at once, and before Bruce could go after him—
“What the hellis wrong with you, Wayne,” Selina hissed. She jabbed a finger to
his chest. “You smell claimed, and I won’tbe the other woman. I thought better
of you.”
Bruce forced his hands to stay in his pockets. Soothing the undoubtedly
blossoming bruise on his cheek would’ve betrayed weakness. “It’s not what you
think.”
“I may just be a beta, but I’m not scent-blind,” Selina said. “It’s exactly
what I think.”
Bruce didn’t respond. Selina gathered her coat from the coat rack and pulled it
on while mumbling angrily under her breath. Purse secured and garments all
buttoned, she yanked open the front door and glared at Bruce with those
piercing Catwoman eyes he sometimes loathed.
“Dick deserves better,” she said, and slammed the door behind her on the way
out.
Dick diddeserve better, a sentiment Bruce had tried expressing countless times
before and after The Incident. If Bruce was a better man, he would have stopped
all of this. He wasn’t.
Bruce sighed and went to his study.
Dick crept in sometime past ten and a half, pale and exhausted and… well. Not
exactly defeated. Accepting, perhaps, and Bruce had never wanted to put that
expression on his face. Dick crawled into his lap and cradled his chin in his
hands, and then they were kissing. It was soft. Very, very soft, and Bruce knew
better than to fall for this.
He did, but he couldn’t help it. Not with Dick so sweet and indulgent,
inspiring him to be sweet and indulgent in kind. To peel off his simple dress
shirt and slacks like he was uncovering a treasure and spreading the omega
across the table. To spoil Dick like he always wanted, so tender and drawn out
that he writhed beneath him.
“Things aren’t okay,” Dick said quietly once it was over, head bowed in the
flickering fireplace light. He sat cross-legged beside Bruce’s sprawled form on
the floor, stark naked and completely unashamed of it.
He glanced down at Bruce, unsure, and reached a hand out. Bruce grasped it in
his own and wondered if Dick would ask. About Selina. About them. The omega did
none of those things. He crawled back into Bruce’s embrace and pillowed his
head on his chest, and Bruce was too cowardly to say the words himself.
The Great Batman, a coward until the end. It’d be almost ironic if it weren’t
so tragic.
--
(There were good times, too. Great times. Sex colored not only their arguments
but their joy, and there was nothing better than a post-successful mission
romp. Bruce lightened up enough for a smile and would let Dick jump into arms,
and they'd go tumbling down to the beautiful sound of the omega's laughter. Or
when Dick's good mood had him whirling about all playful and teasing, until he
coaxed Bruce out of the cowl and shoved him into a bedroom because he needed
him now.
There were good times, and they were marvelous. But all things came to an end.)
--
Ironically, it had less to do with sex and more to do with their partnership.
The Dynamic Duo, Batman and Robin—the ideal hero-sidekick pair that had started
the system of underage vigilantes running about.
Dick was sixteen when, with a bolt of sudden clarity, he realized Bruce was
never going to let him breathe.
He wasn’t unprepared. Accommodations at Wally’s first, and then Clark’s; his
suitcase packed and his most cherished items stowed safely away; and Alfred.
Oh, Alfred. Dick hated seeing the butler caught in the crossfire, but
apparently they weren’t the only ones aware of the eventual implosion of their
relationship.
“It hurts my heart to see you go through this, Master Dick,” Alfred said
quietly once he caught Dick packing away the last of his belongings. The omega
had jumped but hadn’t bothered hiding his actions. “And it will hurt my heart
to see Master Bruce suffering too.”
“Sorry, Alfie,” Dick stood up and gave the stoic butler a firm hug. He put up
with it with his usual British aplomb, and even patted Dick’s hair just a bit.
The omega stepped back and cast a glance down at the floor. “But I… I need to
do this.”
Alfred inclined his head and quietly excused himself. Dick pulled the door shut
and put his head in his hands.
For all his resolve, worry and stress and wrongness ate at his gut. He wiped
his forehead and took a few deep breaths. Was it nerves? Hormones? It was too
early for his heat, but leaving his alpha definitely warranted a few hormonal
backlashes. Taking birth control pills usually soothed that, and he needed all
the help he could get.
He crawled over to the table and upended the drawers looking for the little
packet of pills. Ten minutes of nothing, and he had to accept that he probably
packed them somewhere. And Dick wasn’t turning his suitcases inside out to look
for some stupid white pills. He popped an Advil instead and lay on the floor,
trying to ignore how tight and uncomfortable his skin felt stretched over his
body.
“He’s back,” Alfred eventually called out from the door. Dick drew himself up.
He could do this. No matter how much it hurt them both, he knew it was for the
best.
--
“Bruce, wait,” he gasped, back on the hard ground of the Batcave and pants
tangled around his ankle. “Wait…”
Bruce didn’t wait. Just pressed him down with a hand to the chest and fucked
right into him, and it felt so right it sent a shiver through his body. So
right it was wrong.
Dick's entire body radiated heat, desperation, and he hadn’t—he’d always been
regular but—
“Do you hate me,” Bruce whispered once they were knotted together, and Dick was
already going to miss the sheer exhilaration of being tied. This closeness he
craved with the alpha—hisalpha—that had his animal instincts purring from deep
within. Dick squirmed and batted Bruce's side until the alpha rolled onto his
back and let him settle comfortably on top of him.
Breathing in Bruce’s scent helped soothe the smarting heat. The impossible,
too-early heat that threatened to overwhelm him for real, and he cursed his
traitorous omega body. It clearly didn't want to leave, even if Dick needed to.
They both needed him to, and Dick was above his instincts enough to do what was
right.
“How can you ask that,” Dick finally answered, nuzzling his cheek. Bruce stared
up at the ceiling, refusing to look into Dick's eyes. The man was hurt. Angry.
Already pretending to be a statue when their tie pretty much forced Dick to
stick around for at least another half hour. He kissed Bruce’s stubbled cheek
again and stroked his arm with a hand. “I love you, Bruce. So much.”
Bruce closed his eyes and let out a breath beneath him. And then, so quietly he
almost didn't catch it, he said: "Then why are you leaving."
Dick didn't bother answering. He just pressed his cheek to Bruce’s neck and
tried not to let the tears fall, because if Bruce thought this was easy for
him… well. It wasn't.
It was agony, and damn him for not realizing how difficult it was for them
both.
--
"You okay?" Wally asked when he brought a clean set of bedsheets and a
pillowcase to the guest room he'd prepared for his friend. "You've been...
quiet."
"I'm fine, Wall," Dick said. He stretched out on the bed and put his hand on
his stomach. He didn't even move when Wally plopped down hard enough beside him
for the mattress to bounce. "Really."
"Okie dokie," the speedster said, patting Dick's hair. He let himself out when
he didn't respond.
--
Three months later, his heat didn’t come.
When he got the results, he broke the little stick into several pieces and
flushed it down the toilet. He put his face in his hands and breathed. One hour
to panic, and then one hour to plan.
"You're pregnant," Babs said incredulously, and Dick sighed from the other end
of the video call.
"Yup," he said with steel-backed determination. Because he wasn't going to let
anyone take this away from him— not the government, not the Titans.
Not even Bruce.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
extra
 
The minute they stepped into the shop, Damian’s big blue eyes caught sight of
the red-and-black bat onesie on display. Dick tried steering him towards less
tacky options, to no avail. Damian was not to be a baby denied.
“Ba!” he wailed, face beginning to flush red as he made useless grabby hands at
the onesie. “Ba, ba!”
“Dami,” Dick hushed, trying to ignore the other shopping mothers casting
judgmental glares at him. Except Damian was in full-on tantrum mode: he fussed,
he wailed, he beat tiny fists against Dick’s collar and screamed like he was
being goddamn tortured—until Dick gave up and swung back around for it.
The baby stopped crying the moment Dick found a onesie his size and handed it
over. He clutched it in his little hands at once, happy and quiet and so cute.
Dick kissed the top of his head and smiled when Dami instinctively snuggled
into his mother's scent. He spoiled the brat far too much. Still, he couldn’t
help it.
“Pigheaded Wayne genes,” Dick said before blowing a raspberry into the baby’s
fine, dark hair. Dami blew a raspberry back, and then stuck a red onesie sleeve
into his mouth and soaked it with drool. Dick’s heart melted.
The cashier gave him the stink-eye at the register for the mangled mess Damian
had made of the onesie, not that it mattered. Damian clearly wasn't going to
put the thing back, and Dick handed over his credit card with a sigh.
"Muh-muh-muh," the baby demanded once his mother hustled them both out of the
store. He whapped him in the face with the onesie. "Ba!"
"Of course you do," Dick shook his head free of spit-covered cloth, and Damian
beamed at him in victory.
--
“What in the world is that,” Roy blurted out once he found Dick and Damian
enjoying gelato at a table under a quaint white umbrella. Well, more like Dick
enjoying gelato. Damian was bouncing in Dick’s lap, babbling and waving his
hands and generally looking pleased as pie at the beautiful, eye-searing bat
onesie he was currently wearing. An hour and a half traipsing about the
Venetian tourist traps had dried out the worst of the drool, thank god. “Is
that supposed to be a bat?”
“Ba!” Damian exclaimed.
“Bat,” Lian informed him from where she was perched on Roy’s hip. The little
girl was wearing far more fashionable clothes, albeit in miniature form, and
Dick couldn’t help but feel just a little bit jealous.
Damian scrunched up his nose. “Ba?”
“Baa-tuh.” Lian enunciated, and earned herself a petulant Dami-glare.
Roy settled into the chair across from Dick and shook his head. “Told me you
were gonna waste Bats's money on cheesy souvenirs and I come back to you buying
thisthing. That's like the opposite of what you were supposed to do.”
“Hey, I didn't choose it,” Dick licked the gelato spoon and jerked it away when
Damian tried swiping it from his hand. “It was buy the onesie or suffer the
baby apocalypse. Not even a year old and the bat obsession’s already
manifesting.”
“Next thing you know he’ll only want to skulk around the dark. Throw some coins
at some pigeons. Adopt a puppy and kick it out just to watch it cry.”
“Roy,” Dick sighed.
“What?” the alpha shrugged and arranged Lian in his lap. The girl stared
intensely at Damian, who stared just as intensely back. “Just telling it as it
is.”
“Well maybe I just want to enjoy my gelato in peace,” Dick said. He poked
Damian’s side, but the baby had gone statue-still in his attempt to outstare
the evil girl-baby across the table. “Enjoy the nice Italian weather. Take a
couple of photos of Dami in the stupid onesie. Maybe even—Damian!”
Damian hurled Dick’s stolen spoon at Lian’s head. It bounced off her face and
landed on the table with a clatter. The girl burst into tears.
“Damian, throwing isn’t nice,” Dick said—which was when Lian, still bawling,
picked the spoon up and threw it right back. It smacked Damian across the
cheek, and triumph morphed into petulant infant rage in two seconds flat.
“So much for a nice day,” Roy sighed once both babies began to scream bloody
murder. Dick rubbed his brow and readjusted his grip on the squalling, red-
faced infant writhing like a demon spawn in his arms. He picked up his spoon
and wiped it on a napkin… and went right back to eating his gelato.
Roy gave him a look. “Seriously, man?”
“I paid an arm and a leg for this gelato. I’m finishing it,” Dick informed him,
and determinedly stuck another spoonful into his mouth. For all he spoiled
Damian, he deserved some spoiling too. Besides, Damian would stop crying
eventually.
Hopefully.
When the baby slipped off his lap and towards the ground like a sack of angry,
loud pudge, however, he had to admit he might have been… optimistic.
“Gelato, Dami,” he told the screeching infant, and sighed when Damian aimed a
kick right to his gut in response.
It was the last day before Roy and Lian planned to fly home to the states, and
while Roy hadn't brought it up yet, Dick knew he would.
He just... didn't know the answer. Not yet.
He still needed time.
--
("Come home, Dick," Roy pushed once he finished packing up all of his and
Lian's belongings. Dick sat cross-legged on the couch, Damian in his lap,
pretending like he couldn't see Roy pointedly looking at the bare apartment
walls around them. "Seriously, Batman..."
"...has Jason."
"And you think that kid can carry all of Bruce's shit on his shoulders?"
Dick buried his face into Damian's hair and refused to answer. The baby
wriggled but otherwise didn't fuss, not even when Dick tickled his pudgy belly
and earned a reluctant laugh in return.
"You're eighteen now," Roy said, standing up. "You don't have to worry about
them taking Damian away. And we... we could use your help again with the
Titans. Can you please consider it?"
"I'll try," Dick managed, and the archer shook his head with a sigh.
Dick took Damian to bed with him that night instead of settling him in the
crib, because he needed to feel the baby's warm little body in his arms. Needed
to make sure he was safe and there, and Damian was more than happy to snuggle
up to Dick's soothing omega scent.
"You wanna meet your dad, Dami?" he whispered against Damian's temple. The baby
wrinkled his nose and stretched like a kitten, and then buried his face back
into Dick's neck.
The omega chuckled and wrapped a blanket around them both. With a sigh, he
closed his eyes and let sleep claim them both.)
End Notes
     the story almost directly continues here, in the first fic of the
     series: what_happened_across_the_sea.
     Or in the happier alternate universe: (please_come_home)
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!