Disclaimer: Fraternity
by Maverick
This is a work of speculative fiction. It is not intended in any way to infringe upon the rights of Warner Brothers, DC Comics, Bob Kane, Messrs. Conroy, Lester, Zimbalist, or Valencia, or any other interested parties.Spoilers, etc: This is based on the characters as they are in the animated series.
Rated: PG . . . For now.
Acknowledgments: Any imaginary profits that might arise from this bit of fluff will be donated in their entirety to the Wayne Charitable Trust, the Grayson Home for Retired Aerielists, and the Drake School for Wayward Boys.
Dedicated to my own best beloved, DarkAngel.
(^V^) (^V^)
Part One
"Dick . . . I . . . " Bruce paused, and turned away. There was pain in his voice when he spoke again. "I understand what you feel, and believe me, I am . . . flattered beyond words. But . . . I'm not - I mean, Chum, I don't feel that way about you."
Dick knew, then, with a dreadful certainty, that there was no hope. He stared at Bruce, barely hearing the rest of the uncharacteristically gentle rejection. The months of anguished, careful planning, watching for just the right moment to reveal his true feelings, all of that was for nothing. He felt like he was in shock - what was the line from that movie? "The guy with the amusing look on his face, because his insides have just been kicked out?" Yeah, that was him. He noticed, in a detached way, that he was not breathing; with a conscious effort, he forced himself to breathe. Yes, shock, that was the- word for it. He was in shock, numb; yet a part of him wanted to laugh - He wondered if Bruce, confirmed bachelor that he was, had actually acquired a well-rehearsed spiel for just such purposes. "I understand what you feel, INSERT NAME HERE, and believe me, I am flattered . . . " Very convenient. All he had to do was change a few pronouns, he didn't even have to think about it.
"That's okay, Bruce," Dick heard his own voice saying. "I guess I wasn't thinking. Of course, you're right. I should have known better. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you or anything." It even sounded like his usual, cheery self. None of that emotional, heartbroken stuff around Bruce. Keep up the charade - put on the mask.
"Dick, please understand." Bruce's hand was on his shoulder now, turning him around to face him. "If things were different, I'd be thrilled. You're a fine man, one of the two best men I know. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a . . . partner."
"But not you." Dick couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice.
"No, not me," Bruce agreed. "You know the reasons why. It has nothing to do with you, it wouldn't matter if you were a woman. You know this."
"Yeah, I know," Dick said, feeling his throat knot up and hoping that he wouldn't further embarrass himself by crying in front of Bruce. "You already took a vow, that takes precedence. Yada yada yada."
"You're upset, that's understandable."
"No shit, Sherlock, what was your first clue?" Even as he said it, Dick regretted it; Bruce could no more help how he felt than Dick could. Still, that had shocked him, and a small, mean, petty part of Dick enjoyed it. He waited for the cold response, the inevitable curt dismissal that was Bruce's stock in trade.
Instead, Bruce abruptly pulled him into an embrace, holding him in those strong arms; it wasn't the way he'd been held in his dreams, of course, but it was good, nonetheless. This was a side of Bruce he hadn't seen in years, the gentle, thoughtful guy who'd tried so hard to be a good father, brother, friend; Dick had almost forgotten how much he loved that Bruce, too.
So, he let Bruce hold him, enjoying the too rare closeness, and paying no attention to the tears that rolled down his cheeks. It felt good to be held, like this. It was still as comforting as it had been when he was a frightened child. After a few minutes, he felt calmer, if not completely better. He knew, somehow, that they'd get past this. He could think more clearly, now, and while he still felt like a colossal fool, he knew that he was the only one in the room who thought that. Yes, they'd get past this - he'd get past it.
He stayed in the embrace for a bit longer. If it wasn't what he'd been hoping for when he'd come in here tonight, it wasn't something to disdain, either. Bruce was not a demonstrative man, and such displays of affection from him were therefore all the more precious for their very rarity. Knowing this, Dick took what was offered, and accepted it for what it was; not the kind of love he'd been feeling for so long, but it was love, nonetheless. And it was good, too, he had to admit to himself, it was very good to know that despite everything, they still had that.
"Bruce," Dick said, pulling away enough to wipe the tears off his face. "You really are amazing, you know that?"
Bruce laughed. "That's a hell of a thing to say, especially now."
"Yeah, I know," Dick replied, managing a small smile. "But I mean, no matter what, you're always there for me. Even with something like this."
"I do my best," Bruce replied, smiling. "You're my boy. Being there for you, that's my job."
"Lucky for me." Dick took a deep, shuddering breath, squared his shoulders, flipped his hair out of his face. "Listen, I think I need to go home now. But, I'll be back. Just give me time."
"I understand," Bruce nodded. "You know where to find me."
Dick flashed him a grin that he almost felt, and walked to the door. He left the study, intent on getting out of the house and back to his own loft; he had a lot of thinking to do, before he could face the world again. His emotions were all a tangle right now, he had to sort things out, decide what he wanted to do. He was surprised to realize that he didn't feel nearly so bad as he had just a few moments earlier, when Bruce had said no; for that matter, he didn't feel half as bad as he'd feared he would, in the scenarios he'd played over and over in his mind, preparing for the rejection that he'd not really believed would happen. Maybe he had lost an almost lover, but he had regained a father, and in the end, he figured the scales were tipped in his favor.
Yes, he knew he'd get over this, they'd get over it, and things would be better. Didn't Alfred always say that honest, open communication was the key to good relationships? As usual, the old man was right. He still felt wretched, his heart would ache for a long time, but at least, there was a light at the end of the tunnel.
Dick was concentrating on this, forcing himself to see this entire episode in a positive light, as he walked through the familiar old halls. He didn't even notice the small figure standing beside the study door, his brown eyes wide and filled with surprise, wonder - and hope.
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