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“If I had known all it would take to set you off was a simple misunderstanding, I wouldn’t have gone with you at all!”
“It wasn’t the misunderstanding itself, Dick. It was the implications of it.”
“Oh, you really—” Dick stopped short for a grounding breath. From the slope of his brows and the exasperated part to his lips, Bruce could gather that he was just shy of a scoff and a scathing remark. A beat of silence transpired, then two. A scoff broke it. “Do you ever hear yourself talk?” There it was.
Not rising to the bait, Bruce took a seat at the computer, pulling his tie loose without removing it from beneath the starched collar of his shirt. The instant his fingers hit the keyboard in resting position, Dick grumbled like the action had somehow offended him.
Footsteps arose behind Bruce’s now-turned back, but he couldn’t yet determine if Dick intended to drop the subject and leave the office or if he was just ambling while he thought of harsher things to say to get his attention. Years of patterned behavior suggested the latter. But, then again, Bruce had been surprised by him before.
“What am I supposed to do with this, Bruce?” Although Bruce refused to let his shoulders sag beneath the weight of the beseeching tone, he’d be stupid to deny that Dick was well within his rights to be frustrated. “You want me to ignore the way you behaved? Forget it happened so you can go on pretending you did nothing wrong?”
Bruce tensed his jaw, held it for three seconds, then relaxed. It was a concentrated effort to rein in his defensive inclinations, but as handy as the trick was, Dick’s keen ability to get under his skin was a formidable weapon. “I admit I overstepped my boundaries when I confronted Koriand’r on her behavior.”
Fabric rustled behind him; if Bruce had to venture a guess, Dick was crossing his arms over his chest. “You acted barbaric and possessive, is what you did.”
Resolutely, Bruce scrubbed the image of the Tamaranean draped across Dick’s chest out of his mind. “You do realize she was being crude right under my nose.” Not a question, but a statement of fact. Kori had indeed been touchy at the gala tonight, not to mention colorful with her words. Bruce could still picture her whispering filthy things into Dick’s ear despite his best efforts not to.
“She didn’t know that we…”
Bruce jumped on the pause, responding before Dick had a chance to finish. “And your assertion that Roy had been no better at subtlety did not make me feel any less affronted. All it did was remind me that there’s someone else who may try to make their presence as uncomfortably known to me as she did.”
Dick’s voice pitched into audacious territory. “Y’know, if you’re worried about my past inter-team relationships so much, then I have bad news for you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“We were hormonal teenagers, B. I don’t think there are many members of the Titans I haven’t tried dating for at least a little while.”
Bruce’s mouth pressed into a tight line, and it was with phenomenal willpower that he finally turned and made himself look Dick in the eye. “I hadn’t realized your history was so prolific.”
The moment the words were spoken, he regretted them. At his best, he was able to measure his feelings and analyze his thoughts carefully, taking the time to pick out the most appropriate thing to say. Even then, he hadn’t always succeeded. Right now, he was loathe to say he was far from his best, torn by an emotion for which he could not find a logical hearth but that was present all the same. He’d said the wrong thing, of that he was certain. Even if he couldn’t feel the abrupt switch in mood crackle in the air—and he could, like a second skin that crawled, buzzed, even—he could see it plainly on Dick’s darkening face.
“Wow.” The darkness was swept away with a callous smile, a faux cheer Bruce recognized, because he had helped teach it to him. That hurt worse than the blatant anger. “You’re one to talk, aren’t you?” Even the tone had lightened, carrying textbook passive-aggression with a mellifluous timbre, which might have passed as teasing to anyone else.
No, Dick meant what he said. Scathingly.
“The majority of those relationships were merely meant to entice the media. A great many more were not real to begin with.”
“But I’m the bad guy for actually caring about the people I was with?”
Bruce found himself growing more defensive at the accusatory tone. He hadn’t meant it that way at all, but to explain the truth of his insecurity was something he could not (would not) do with Dick in such a mood. This was one of many great fears realized: That no matter his intention, there were always words meant well that he would butcher, tangled feelings that he could not parse and so could not explain in a way that made sense to others. In his haste to address the uncomfortable situation, he had offended his partner instead.
Several seconds had ticked by while he was stuck in his own head, and he hadn’t said a thing. Too late for it now.
Dick was even more frustrated, puffing up at the chest with his arms splayed in frantic gesticulation. “You’re a hypocrite! Admit it: It doesn’t matter how many relationships either of us have been in, you’re just jealous.”
Bruce blinked, pondering the truthfulness of the statement. Turning it over in his mind, it made sense. It was a sensation his pride hadn’t even allowed him to consider. He was foolish. He was…jealous.
His gaze lifted again, earnestly searching Dick’s face until his expression morphed from anger to confusion right before Bruce’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Dick said, suddenly. Another shift in the room’s tension made itself known. “I didn’t come in here to accuse you of things.” That was not among the responses Bruce had desired. Perhaps earning understanding without explaining himself was too much to ask for.
“No, you’re right.” Bruce narrowed his eyes purely out of reflex, maintaining a stony expression despite the creep of embarrassment that surprised even him. “Koriand’r’s tenacity and your comments regarding your old teammates reinforced feelings of inadequacy in me that I had no right to project onto you.”
“Inadequacy—” Dick barely got the word out before his brows shot toward his hairline. “Oh, my god. You’re afraid I’ll change my mind about us. You’re afraid I’ll leave you.” His voice dripped genuine shock. It occurred to Bruce, in a moment of clarity, that it was because Dick never saw the glaring flaws in Bruce’s armor the way he did. Not the self-sabotage that made him take what he had for granted, nor the insecurity that damned him to hear an unspoken again clinging to the end of Dick’s own epiphany.
What a marvel it must be, to see himself the way Dick saw him.
Before he could stop it, he found himself swallowing enough emotion that it felt like a stone going down his throat. “Forgive me my doubts. Having a partner with such consistent loyalty is not something I am accustomed to.”
Dick visibly softened, all the way from his gaze to the curl of his lips; the rigidity of his shoulders to his firmly-planted feet. He hesitated for only a moment, and then drew close to the chair, stepping in between Bruce’s knees and coming down for a kiss.
Being so blindsided was another thing Bruce was not accustomed to. But when the hand that pushed through his bangs stopped to cup the back of his skull, he allowed it to pull him in with no resistance. The easy compliance earned a reward in the form of Dick’s tongue probing the seam of his lips, opening him up to tease a brief flicker against his hard palate before getting a real taste. He took the lead while Bruce remained pressed against the back of the seat, arms resting in his lap until Dick saw fit to move them himself, making space for his body to rest.
Bruce hadn’t even realized how cold he was until Dick loaned him his warmth. He practically burned with it, pouring everything into deepening the kiss.
When he pulled back, Bruce was still spellbound. He made a mental note to be more transparent for future endeavors.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Dick said, so softly it nearly ached to hear. Then, with mischief, flashed a smile showing the points of his canines. “In fact, if I had my way, I wouldn’t even be leaving this spot tonight.” There was just enough suggestion in his voice to make Bruce’s blood run hot. The idea that he had wasted so much time focusing on anything but this made the entire evening’s events seem absurd.
His hands were already on Dick’s waist, having apparent minds of their own. With a rasp in his voice he knew was too pronounced to deny, he said, “Your way it is.”