niftywithaN (niftywithan) wrote,
niftywithaN
niftywithan

  • Music:

Batfic: Missed

So I've been working on and off on my superbat_bb and... well, I needed to write something else. So I sat down, put on some music, and started writing.

Somehow, fluffy smut came out. I am utterly baffled. First of all, because fluffy smut seems like an oxymoron. Second of all, because I have long been out of practice writing smut. But apparently Dick decided he wanted to pounce on the Batman and have some sexytimes, so I let him.

Anyhoodle, enjoy my first foray into the world of Batsmut! XD

- - -

Title: Missed
Rating: R
Characters: Bruce/Dick
Word Count: ~970
Summary: Bruce has been off-planet on a super-secret JLA mission for four weeks, and Dick is more than ready to have him back.

- - -

Four weeks.

Bruce had been off-planet on a super-secret JLA mission for four weeks.

And Dick was more than ready to have him back.

He watched from the shadows of the Batcave as Bruce spoke with Superman and Wonder Woman. All three heroes looked worn to the core. Bruce was slumped in his chair, cowl off, hair mussed, his jaw covered with dark bristly growth. Even Diana and Clark looked exhausted, both pale and wan and standing a little more stooped than usual.

Dick waited, bouncing slightly with childlike impatience, as Clark clasped a hand to Bruce’s shoulder. They exchanged some words, then Diana gave them both a weary smile, and the pair of them flew off into the night.

Bruce sighed and got to his feet. He stretched, dark cape sliding like liquid over his shoulders, revealing the broad chest and rippling muscles that Dick had so desperately missed. Bruce looked over at him and gave only the slightest expectant lift of one brow, but Dick knew precisely what the motion implied:

Well?

Mouth dry and heart pounding, Dick stalked forward, blue eyes flashing in the phosphorescent glow of computer banks. He curled his hands into the dark fabric at Bruce’s neck and tugged the older man into a fierce kiss, biting, clutching, lips and teeth clashing together like waves breaking on a shore. He moaned into the kiss when he felt Bruce’s arms twine around him. Strong fingers threaded through his hair and a firm, gauntleted hand possessively cupped his right buttock.

“Finally,” Dick groaned against Bruce’s lips, and he felt Bruce smile and tug him closer, pressing their bodies so tight that Dick could feel hard ridges of armor through his clothes. Bruce spun him then, pinning his hips against the computer console and bending Dick backwards over the keyboard to capture his lips again. Dick inhaled sharply as gloved fingers pressed warm against his crotch, and he slung one long leg over Bruce’s hip, arching into the contact.

“I missed you,” Dick breathed. Bruce bent to trace gentle kisses over Dick’s thrumming pulse.

“I can tell,” Bruce said with a meaningful squeeze that made Dick’s breath gutter in his throat.

“How was – the mission?” Dick asked, running light fingers over Bruce’s arms and chest. He frowned slightly when he reached the left shoulder; even through the thick material of Bruce’s uniform, he could feel the rough edges of bandages, wrapped tight. “What’s this?”

Bruce ignored him, smothering any more questions with an open-mouthed kiss. Dick groaned into it, letting Bruce suckle his lower lip, his tongue, effectively putting a halt to any more talk, but Dick was determined. He pulled away with a little gasp, lips flushed and swollen, and gripped Bruce’s face, forcing lust-darkened blue eyes to meet his own.

“How badly are you hurt?” he asked, trying to keep his voice firm despite the tremors of pleasure cascading through his body. Bruce sighed and closed his eyes, then leaned up to press a chaste kiss to Dick’s forehead.

“It’s just a scratch, Dick,” he said. His stubble tickled Dick’s face as he spoke. “I’m fine. I promise. Tired, but fine.”

Dick turned his head to place a gentle kiss on Bruce’s jaw. “Good.”

“How were things here?” Bruce bit the tip of his right middle finger and pulled his hand slowly away, removing his dark gauntlet in one smooth motion. Dick almost didn’t hear the question, his eyes wide and intent on the glove dangling from Bruce’s lips, but then the gauntlet dropped and Bruce slipped a hand casually beneath Dick’s waistband and Dick had to force himself not to lurch into the touch.

“I asked you a question, Dick,” Bruce said, his voice a velvety purr, and Dick made a funny choked sound as Bruce’s ungloved hand gripped him tight.

“Fine,” he gasped, writhing as Bruce’s hand twisted. “Things were fine. N-nothing major to report. Scarecrow – nngh, fuck – Scarecrow made some trouble – and Tim – Tim helped out–“ He paused with a gasp when Bruce slid his other hand under his shirt, stroking his stomach lasciviously before making his way to a hardened nipple. “– b-but I managed to hold down the fort, Christ!” He bucked his hips against Bruce’s fist, making little helpless noises, his eyes glazed and unfocused.

“Good,” Bruce said, nuzzling Dick’s soft dark hair. Dick clutched at Bruce’s neck with one hand, murmuring incoherently. With his other hand he scrabbled at the silky fabric of Bruce’s cape, trying to draw the man even closer. It was so hot, with Bruce's firm weight almost stifling above him, but he wanted to be even closer. He had missed Bruce so much, it almost scared him. Dick’s hands shook and he bit his lip to keep from saying something embarrassingly true, something like “I love you” or “Please don’t leave me again,” but then Bruce stroked him hard, dragging raw heat down his length, and those thoughts whited out from his mind as his hands crimped, his eyes rolled back, and he came with a strangled groan.

When the world reasserted itself, Dick was panting, warm and cozy and curled up against a strong, solid chest. He blinked and realized that Bruce had gathered him into his arms and was holding him comfortably in his lap in that great black swivel chair, just like he used to do when Dick was little. Dick lifted a hand and curled his fingers into the front of Bruce’s uniform, smiling slightly. He felt the soft pressure of lips in his hair, followed by a light huff of air, almost like a sigh.

“I missed you,” Bruce said, and Dick closed his eyes and reveled in the way Bruce’s voice rumbled beneath his cheek.

Smiling, he said, “I can tell.”

- - -

WHY DOES MY SMUT ALWAYS JUST LEAD TO CUDDLING. /HEADDESK

Ah, well. I'm off to write real things now. Later, lovelies! ♥



PS: If anyone is wondering where my Master List went, I took it down because I tried adding this story to the Batfic section and the formatting kept getting all fucked up and I was about four seconds from shooting someone in the face. Like myself. So... yes. My apologies! I will try to get another list up sometime when my head is not about to explode.
Tags: batman, dcu, fanfic
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