Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or any relations and associates.

Routine

Dick looks at himself in the mirror.

He let his hair grow again. This time up to his shoulders. The ends are starting to curl but he doesn't mind.

He holds a pair of scissors in his hands. They're nothing special. Just normal ones you can find anywhere. Dick believes they're special. The blades always sharpened before he begins the long process.

The one of starting over.

He looks at himself in the mirror. Wonders what people see when they watch him. He knows it's not the same thing he sees at times like this. But he can't help but wonder and he slowly begins to crumble.

He sees the imperfections.

He sees the cracks.

They've been there for a while.

He wonders who else has noticed. He wonders why no one's told him, put a hand on his shoulder and tell him everything's going to be alright. He wonders if anyone even cares.

The blades always sharpened before he begins the long process.

He slowly takes a length of his hair, clipping it between two fingers. Looks into his eyes one more time. The cracks. He's falling apart.

To start over.

It always takes a long time.

But he gets there.

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Dick knows he's watching.

Every move, every breath. Dick feels his eyes. They're cold against the back of his head. But it's not the chills that sends a tender rush up his spine.

He wonders how long this little game will last this time.

Their little game.

Bruce is busy. He's immersed in one of his files, his refined sculpture being lit by the painful light coming from the screen. It's near blinding but Dick can't look away.

Bruce's eyes are the colour of the sky before the rain comes. A blue that is clouded by grey and quiet. Those eyes never look back at him. And Dick understands.

Bruce knows.

Because Dick has cut his hair again.

And it scares Bruce enough to look away.

But Dick knows too. He turns around again idly playing with the front engine of the batmobile. He feels the sensation. The one he gets when Bruce looks at him.

Dick knows Bruce can't look away. Not for long. No matter how much he tries.

So Dick leans forwards. He lets his back slightly arch as he checks the inner gears.

Bruce can't look away.

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He's been away from the cave for a while.

Not too long, not long enough for Bruce to move on and forget.

But enough so that every time he closes his eyes he sees Dick's smile. Every time he's alone, all that occupies his mind is the way Dick's body moves when they're alone together, when only Bruce's there to watch, when he's putting on a show for the man. Enough so that every time he jacks off Dick's moans and screams are the only thing he can hear, can comprehend.

And once he's done he knows.

He closes his eyes and pictures the sweet body and erotic cries from the beautiful boy it belongs too.

His boy.

It's enough.

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Bruce hears the engine of Dick's bike before he sees him. He doesn't wait for him to cut the engines. Bruce has been patient, borderline crazy, has waited long enough.

Dick swings a leg over as Bruce tips his chin back and forces his tongue past those lips.

Innocent looking lips that have done dirty things.

Bruce is kissing him and it's passionate. It's overwhelming. Dick's getting dizzy. He has to breathe soon. But this is just too good. Bruce hands are on his waist and suddenly he's in the air.

He's forgotten how strong Bruce is. How assertive and dominant. His hands are squeezing Dick's ass as he wraps his legs around the man's waist.

They never stop kissing.

They need more.

Bruce violently bites Dick's bottom lip before he pulls away. Dick moans.

It's been too long.

Both of them are panting. Their foreheads press together.

"Bedroom."

It's a demand but Dick hears the question behind it. Bruce will stop, he will force himself to let go, look away, to stop if Dick ever utters the word.

But Dick never disappoints.

He nods, just slightly.

Bruce is hard. Passionate and impatient. Wanting and taking, always having his way. Like the beast he is.

But Dick is no innocent.

He wants, just as much as he gives.

He's been good. Patient even.

But times run out.

Lust and eroticism.

He's a monster.

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Bruce is touching him. Callused fingers tough on the lithe body littered with all the rough scars. They're physical as much as they are mental.

He knows which ones are his fault. He's seen the cracks Dick tries to hide.

Bruce touches the broken body.

He doesn't believe he can be any more obsessed with it.

Bruce is fucking him and Dick has become a mess. He's begging and pleading and muttering incomprehensibly.

Bruce understands what he wants. What he's trying to say and he clenches his teeth, trying to hold in a moan. He's starts moving faster, thrusting harder.

Only he can make Dick become like this.

Only he can see Dick so vulnerable and so incredibly beautiful.

This fragile boy.

This breathtaking boy.

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Dick can't stop moving. It's too much. It's too good. It feels too good.

"Dick..."

Please. "Bruce, more." More, he needs more. It's too much. He can't breathe.

"Please."

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Bruce's hand leaves Dick's hips and reaches for his hair instead.

It's grown longer since the last time Bruce's seen him. He lets the gentle locks slip past his fingers and wonders how long till the next time Dick decides to cut his hair again. To reinvent himself only for Bruce to drag him away from the light.

Possessive. He can't help it. Because the beast hungers for it.

The light that blinds him. He can't look away.

Dick's glistening. His body. His eyes. Bruce realizes he's glowing.

This boy.

His boy.

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His body dances under his touch. A sultry voice and raw lips. He's so beautiful and Bruce is fascinated with this intricate boy, lost and trying to find himself.

Trying to escape the dark.

Bruce is tugging at Dick's hair with his other hand firmly pressing down on the refined hips. He knows the reason Dick will often let his hair grow for months and not bother with it. Knows Bruce enjoys running his fingers through the dark tresses. Knows Bruce has a habit of grabbing and pulling when he's kissing Dick like he's kissing him now.

He never complains.

And Bruce he –

They're still kissing when Dick comes, his sensitive body feeling too much, he can't handle it. It streams onto their bodies and leaves trails on their chests. Bruce feels Dick's body vibrating as he rides out his orgasm and Bruce finishes with a groan he can't hold in.

He opens his eyes. Sees Dicks are still closed, still feeling too much, needs more time to calm down. Bruce relaxes his hold on his hair and Dick remembers to breathe. Starts raking his hand gently through the soft locks, leaving butterfly kisses trailing from his jaw to his collar bone and back to the boy's parted lips, still silently pleading.

His boy.

His loving boy.

Bruce presses their bodies closer, dropping his weight onto him and Dick reaches up to hold on. He's calming down.

Sometimes Dick just needs to be pinned down, to be restrained, to take the numbness away. He needs it rough to know he's still alive.

Bruce gives it to him. He gives him everything he wants. Everything he asks for.

Right now, it's only them and they can forget about yesterday and tomorrow.

Bruce's lips brush against Dick's, a breath as he softly speaks.

"I love you."

Warm. Dick's warm.

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Starting over.

It always takes a long time.

But he gets there.

They get there.

A/N : Hoping FF doesn't take this down. I'm trying a new style with this one. Enjoy!