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"Bruce you can– just sit down. Sit down, I can take it."
"I'm not sitting on your face," Bruce manages, no matter how disgruntled he feels. At least his speech is less slurred than Dick's, whose slobbering all across Bruce's pussy is not helping support his request.
"I can take it," Dick repeats, pressing another firm, open kiss over the enlarged clitoris, using his tongue right after to scoop out as much juice as possible. Fuck. Fucking after a sweaty night cuddling was always the fucking best.
"You cannot," Bruce grunts. He would have moved himself off of squatting above Dick's mouth were it not for the grip on each of his thighs, courtesy of the man currently trying to kill himself via asphyxiation. "I'll crush your head."
"That sounds so good," Dick slurs again, focusing on licking and sucking the clit like damn candy, "break my nose Ion't care just– just wanna taste ya."
The sheer stupidity of his words, laced with the strongest of wants, makes Bruce groan, his head already light from the previous two orgasms his overexcited lover had given him. Involuntarily, his hips buckle downward, and although Dick indeed chokes, he sounds so delighted.
The grip on Bruce's thighs tightens, instigating him to sit his whole body weight down. Again, Bruce refuses, not one to kill, and again, Dick releases a breathless, impatient groan.
With his nose buried in pubic hair, Dick tries yet again to pull Bruce to fully sit down on his face.
This was everything Dick ever wanted and more. The taste of pussy coating his mouth, the hottest man he could conceive riding his face, his tongue pressing flat against Bruce's clit, the smell of sweat and cum and general nastiness dense in the air. If he died now, he wouldn't even pretend to be mad and instead happily haunt Bruce into a few more orgasms.
Despite the complexity of his life's events, Dick considers himself a simple man. When he loves, he loves every inch, every pound, everything the other has to offer, and Bruce just has so much of everything; so much devotion, so much patience with Dick's poor excuses as to who he is and where he comes from. So much fucking everything that, who the fuck is Dick to not reciprocate it?
"Taste so good.." Dick pants, feeling the juices coat nearly half his face. Part of him feels sad that he wasn't able to lap it all, but he also likes being marked in this way. He hopes part of the smell lingers even after the shower. "So good.. So good baby.."
Again, he kisses Bruce's clit, and that doesn't feel like nearly enough, so he takes the whole bundle of nerves between his lips and sucks. He'd bite and nibble on it too, knowing it was a sure way to get Bruce to come instantaneously, but his cute, teddy bear of a lover was probably still sore from last night. It was entirely Bruce's fault for being so irresistible (and insatiable enough that, for once, Dick could feel spent too).
Soon enough, Bruce starts making those small noises that Dick loves so much. "Ah, ah…" again and again. Hisses and bitten-down curses, like his desire is something to be ashamed of.
Dick should be the one ashamed. Should be feeling the weight of his shame like stones on his stomach. He is well aware of that, not just deep down, but every time he looks in the mirror. Every time he looks at Bruce, this Bruce.
Well aware that, after being stranded in a parallel universe, his first call was not to pursue the leads that would help to find a way back. Oh no. Instead, he sought out the surest way to this universe's Bruce's bed.
This Bruce, who had no fucking clue who Dick Grayson is, and why he'll matter. He was a younger, angrier version of Bruce. That was taller, more physically imposing. A Bruce who transitioned young, which must be why the two counterparts differed so much physically. Unlike the Bruce that Dick grew up with, who committed to a complete medical transition, this younger Bruce had not committed to either top or bottom surgery, finding it useless when he could socially pass without issue.
It is fucked. Morally. Ethically. All fucked. All wrong. Blah blah blah. Dick knew his happiness was unearned. Yet he could not care. Not when everything has been like a dream. Is a dream. A dream so good he barely feels the need to wake up. All that's missing is some applied weight on his skull while he tongued his lover's cunt. Yet Bruce won't give Dick that one thing.
Part of Dick wonders if he's genuinely seeking death. Bruce is over 421 lbs, and probably a squeeze of his thighs could break the average man's head like a watermelon. That thought makes Dick's cock throb.
Realizing he is straining his neck by leaning his head upwards, Dick lets it fall back to the mattress to catch his breath. For a moment, Bruce's hips buckle, as if one second away from fulfilling Dick's dream and sitting down.
It's a good feeling to see Bruce's red, strained expression. It's the best feeling, actually, although the sight is a bit difficult to catch with the wall of tits that impede his vision, but Dick is nothing if not ambitious.
Dick's grip tightens as he feels Bruce's weight shift, "That must be so exhausting, B, to sit like that and not on my face," he grins, feeling drunk on cunt juice, even more elated when Bruce gives him a flat, bemused stare. So close now, so close to Bruce sitting down on his face. He can feel the warm, wet pussy hovering just above his mouth, and he's fucking desperate to feel it crush him.
"I'll feel bad," Bruce says, "if I break your nose. Or your neck."
To say 'I would actually quite like that' or 'that's sounds really hot, please do' or even 'I can afford a trip to the ER, you just need to do the sitting,' would most definitely not convince Bruce, so Dick kept that to himself.
"I can take it," Dick answers instead, patting one of Bruce's thighs. No matter how good they felt to hold, Dick needed one hand around his cock before his balls exploded from sheer pressure. "I'm built differently."
"No, you're not," Bruce finally smiles. That is a win in Dick's book.
Bruce looks away from Dick's warm eyes to turn his head and watch as the man below him reaches for his hard, desperate-looking cock, giving it short, desperate pumps. The immediate pre-cum that started to leak made Bruce's mouth water. "You wanna... want help with that?"
"Later. I'm not done eating yet." Then, with fervor, Dick lifts his head up again, ignoring the subsequent ache it would later cause his neck to tilt up like that, and pushes his mouth back against Bruce's pussy. He opens wide, sticking his tongue out and pressing it against Bruce's clit.
Bruce startles at the sensation, a breathy curse escaping him as his thighs tighten around Dick's head. They feel big and warm, like pillows that could kill. As a reward for giving in, even if subconsciously, Dick starts fucking Bruce's hole with his tongue, slurping and sucking all the while, trying to get as deep as possible.
Wetness drips down the sides of Dick's mouth, and he wants to consider this his breakfast for today. Musky and tangy and so fucking addictive, as if Bruce's sweat and juices were a compound created to specifically drive Dick insane. His tongue curled inside the wet hole, relishing in every muscle spasm his actions caused. His face was probably red from lack of air, but fuck, the taste and feeling of Bruce's hole was worth dying for.
"Holy..." he finally croaked when he mournfully separated from his banquet for a measly gulp of air.
"Pussy can't be that good," Bruce spoke, although it clearly took brain effort to scramble those words together, "I haven't showered since- since yesterday. Fuck. Dick."
If Bruce was trying to sound unaffected, it wasn't working. It just worked to work up Dick even more, who hummed in consideration.
"The dirtier the better."
"Don't call my pussy dirty," Bruce immediately rebuffs, followed by yet another huff of laughter, "you want to choke on my dirty pussy, is that it?"
"Fuck yeah," Dick groans, only to join in the breathless laughter a second later. He still needs to squeeze the base of his cock to control himself. "Can you squirt?"
Bruce tilts his head and hums in consideration. The sound is low and damn, the sexiest thing ever. "I don't know. Never have."
Well, if that wasn't an incentive to try.
The idea, now latched onto Dick's head, makes him need to tighten the grip around his cock, squeezing to stave off the sharp rise of arousal.
Fuck, Dick thought. "Fuck," he groaned out loud. He really wants to be the one to make Bruce squirt for the first time. Such a pretty pussy deserves to squirt and be worshipped by a tongue as skillful as his. He wants to spend the entire damn morning eating that pussy until Bruce comes so hard he makes a mess everywhere. "We gotta fix that, babe. Gonna fix that right now."
Dick's hand tightens around his cock, squeezing to stave off the impending orgasm. His refractory period was quick, sure, way above average. But he had meant it when he earlier said that he would tire Bruce out into staying in bed with him all day.
Somehow, quite like a miracle, Dick makes Bruce smile again. The hands that had been grasping the sheets push Dick's damp hair away from his sweaty forehead. "You're ridiculous."
"Only the best for my man," Dick murmurs, his face growing hot, and not just from all the squeezing. Now more determined, he continues to lick Bruce's pussy, only more vigorously, his tongue licking a long, sinful stripe across Bruce's hole, coaxing more juice before plunging inside.
And Dick meant his words. With one hand, he stroked his cock with a dry grip until he wasn't sure if the ache or the pleasure was more prominent. His other hand remained gripping Bruce's thighs, hoping– no, needing to leave a bruise or a mark or something on the other's pale skin. He dug his nails in a little, yet Bruce did not seem to notice, a whole lot more preoccupied squirming over Dick's mouth.
"Dick," Bruce sighed, and the sound sounded so perfect coming out of his mouth. It was also Bruce's favorite word to moan while they had sex. Dick would know; he has kept track. "Dick, that's so– right there."
A gasp, then, pressure. One hand clutches Dick's hair and forces his head up. Bruce lowers himself, losing composure by grinding his clit against Dick's nose while Dick curls his tongue, mimicking the fucking motions he knows Bruce loves most.
That seems to spark it, and soon, Bruce's hips start moving in more frequent, bigger motions. His thighs clamp around Dick's head, fucking himself against the other's face. He moans Dick's name again, taking all he wants from the eager man below him.
All of it combined has Dick's eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling the wetness spread everywhere. Bruce is shivering. Bruce is losing it. Bruce is making those whimpering noises again. Those that make Dick lose his mind. Those that mean he's so, so close, but want to drag it out.
Dick doesn't want to drag it out. He wants to choke on pussy, to swallow the impending flood, to get Bruce so wet and relaxed that when he shoves his cock inside it'll feel warm and moist and made just for him, by him.
Bruce keeps grinding down, the bed creaking with each roll of his hips. Dick knows that Bruce is still being careful not to put all his weight down, but he loses focus every now and then, and Dick sees heaven. The grip on his hair borders on painful, but nothing can distract a focused man from his mission, and Bruce is just so close.
"Di—ick–!" His whimpering turns into a strangled cry. Underneath the palm of his hand, Dick feels Bruce's muscle spasm as he loses composure, releasing his third orgasm of the morning.
The spasms travel from Bruce's straining legs to his clenched abdomen, then down to his cunt. Like any good muncher, Dick pushes his tongue deep inside and swallows his reward with pure, unadulterated greed. It tastes divine. It tastes like Bruce. It's everywhere, and it's hot and never, ever enough because Dick's hunger for Bruce could never be satiated.
He's absolutely addicted.
"Fuck… Bruce…” He pants, expression raw and lips swollen. He leans back into the mattress for some breath when a trail of nectar drips down Bruce's bush. He can feel the warm drops hit his skin.
Their eyes meet, and Bruce is still shivering, the orgasm lingering in his muscles. Dick offers a smile, and Bruce's expression softens. "You look a mess."
"I didn't make you squirt," Dick sighs, the hand on Bruce's thigh traveling upward until it rests around the other's hip, "I'm such a bad boyfriend."
"The worst," Bruce murmurs, giving the tiniest of smiles, "but you can make it up to me."
Immediately, Dick's eyes light up. "Yeah?" He asks, the throbbing of his waiting cock growing impossible to ignore. "How?" He asks, even though he knows what Bruce wants, what he himself is aching to give. To make it up to him by fucking him stupid, until Bruce sees stars and melts down into the mattress.
Anticipating so, Bruce shifts backwards, before removing himself from Dick and settling next to him. Dick, too, turns to lie on his side. Their positions mirror each other, although Dick leans on one elbow while Bruce pillows his head on one arm.
Something about this current moment makes Dick giddy. He loves sex, loves the connection. Loves the smell and the taste and everything that comes with it. He loves having sex with Bruce. It makes his heart want to burst. Not just the act, but also the post-coital bliss.
"I can ride you," Bruce suggests. The trimmed bush between his legs glistens with his release and Dick's saliva. The combination is spread all across his inner thighs, which he rubs together indulgently.
"Baby, that's no way for me to apologize, to make you do all the work," Dick clicks his tongue, shaking his head in mock disapproval. He shifts closer, unable to stop touching his man. "What position do you like most? You can just lay however you want and I'll fuck you good, mh?"
After a moment of pondering, Bruce answers, "I like it when I can kiss you."
At that, Dick pretends to clutch his heart, rolling around a bunch before swooning into the roof. "Cute, so cute," Dick exhales before turning back to Bruce, smiling, warm, "I think you just want to shut me up because I talk so much."
"That too. But partly."
The admission makes Dick laugh. Despite the slowness of the moment, the pause for conversation, not a moment goes by that Dick's cock is not screaming for some friction. Reluctant to break the moment, Dick decides to indulge in his want. And in Bruce's too.
"Well then," he says, sitting up, unable to resist stealing a kiss.
"You taste like me," Bruce hums, resting on his back and spreading his legs so that Dick can settle between them. "You really like it? Eating me out?"
Something about those words makes Dick swallow down a groan. Hot. So hot. He felt hot all over. Bruce, below him, emitted so much heat, too.
And so close, too. Close enough that he could rest his stone-hard cock over Bruce's wet cunt, sandwiching it between his folds.
Dick doesn't want to stop kissing him. He needs to. Needs to kiss Bruce until he can't feel his lips, until he can make Bruce emit such pretty sounds as he pounds into him. Just needs, needs, needs, needs him.
Their lips make a wet sound each time they meet and part. Dick grinds slowly, sliding across his lover's slit and letting the wetness soak his cock all over.
"You taste like heaven," Dick says, and he means it.
Only when Bruce chuckles against his lips does he realize he coincidentally answered Bruce's nonsense question. Because, of course, he likes the taste of Bruce.
"You call my pussy dirty one moment and heavenly the next," Bruce blinks, slow and languid. He's panting again, walls tightening each time Dick's cock grinds over his strained clit. "I don't like inconsistency."
"I'm so sorry baby," Dick grins. His panting is not as delicate as Bruce's. It's loud and heavy with the need to plunge in. Yet they both like waiting until neither can take it anymore. That is what makes it fun. "But maybe, your pussy is both dirty and heavenly. Maybe it's a dirty little heaven that only I get to worship."
The response he gets is a sigh and the delicious sight of reddening cheeks. "Dick," Bruce says, like a warning. Dick kisses him again.
Grinning into the kiss, Dick inwardly laments having to break it off, kissing Bruce's cute button nose before reaching down to grab his cock, and positioning it at Bruce's entrance. "You got a pillow beneath you?" He remembers to ask.
"It's fine," Bruce answers, wrapping his arms around Dick's shoulders, essentially trapping him. Not that Dick minds. "Put it in first."
Eyeing the pillow for later, Dick relents, letting the banter end there because he really fucking needed to plunge inside or else he'll explode. Still, he can't resist one last attempt at a tease, rubbing the tip of his cock against Bruce's hole.
At that, he receives a narrowed frown and a tug on his hair.
"My cock missed you, too," Dick whispers, pushing his hips forward and gliding into the tight heat.
Both men groan loudly. Bruce's head tilts backward against the bed, and Dick leans forward, pillowed by Bruce's chest.
"Love you. Love this," Dick tries not to slobber over Bruce's tits, but that task grows more difficult as his pace increases, settling into a steady rhythm. In this position, with his cock buried inside the most perfect pussy in the world, he can't reach up to kiss Bruce again, so he settles on leaving marks all across the ample skin available to him.
"Oh, B," Dick keeps murmuring, "so good. So good, baby."
He won't fucking shut up. Can't shut up. With a moan of annoyance, Bruce's hold on Dick's shoulders tightens, trying to tune out his blabbering lover and let his body follow the set rhythm.
It's clear from Bruce's blissful expression that he is loving this. He loves this position; loves the weight of Dick over him, the stretch of dick inside him, the bruising left on his body like he is territory to be branded. Bruce's hips lift to meet Dick's thrusts, taking him deeper with every plunge. "Fuck… Shut up…"
"Never. Never ever ever ever. I'm never shutting up about you." His hands grip Bruce's thighs, which had been clamping shut around Dick's torso, to spread them open again and take him even deeper. "So good. Don't wanna.. ever wanna leave. Leave this. Leave your... your pussy..."
It's like Dick loses all focus during sex and just lets his inner monologue stream out of his mouth like a broken faucet. The ridiculousness of it all causes Bruce to breathlessly laugh. And his laugh causes his cunt to clamp shut around Dick's cock. He can feel, rather than hear, Dick laugh, too, raggedly and satisfied.
"Lift your ass up. Pillow time," Dick places a kiss over Bruce's nipple, taking his hand off Bruce's thigh to blindly reach out for the pillow.
Like a good boyfriend, Bruce does as told, and Dick slides it underneath his spine for extra support. Bruce takes the opportunity to fold over slightly, first putting one leg over Dick's shoulder, then the other.
Not often, if ever, had Bruce met (and slept with) someone who could handle his muscle mass with so much grace. Dick just adjusts, handling the new position without missing a beat.
"Now you can kiss me," Bruce nods to himself. All around, he feels comfortable, like he could sleep in this position, with Dick's cock buried deep into his womb.
Dick starts to move again, every thrust slow and deliberate, knowing the sweet spots to hit over and over again. "Of course," Dick exhales, capturing Bruce's lips in a languid and exceedingly lazy kiss. "Like this?" He murmurs, speaking between pecks. Bruce nods.
Their lips meet. Again and again. Their tongues dance without any hurry or urgency. It's heaven. And Dick feels at home between Bruce's legs. Hears music in his moans, in his heartbeat. It's intimate, fun, loving, and Dick doesn't want to think about his life outside this room.
"What do you think when you see me?" Dick finds himself asking, barely even having the energy to speak. Yet Bruce's eyes meet his, and he can't take it back.
"That I see you," Bruce answers, "that you see me too."
The answer feels nonsensical, so Dick laughs. It's a wet sort of laugh. It makes Bruce's eyes crinkle with fondness.
Then Dick swallows. His mouth still tastes like Bruce. "I think about how much–"
How much he has wanted this. How long he had wanted this. How Bruce was everything he could ask for and more.
But those are not words you tell your boyfriend of nine months.
Dick swallows. "How much I love you."
Then, Dick hits his sensitive spot dead-on, distracting Bruce from giving any actual answer. It makes Bruce have to wrap his arms around Dick's neck, holding onto him tightly as he's fucked slowly and deeply. Each thrust makes his legs shake slightly over Dick's shoulders.
"... Softie," Bruce says, breath hitching, when Dick buries himself balls-deep. He's wet enough after three orgasms and an intense munching that each and every thrust follows a wet squelch. It makes Bruce blush, for his body had never responded so eagerly to dick before.
Dick proceeds to fold him further, facilitated by the fact that, although quite big and muscular, Bruce is also very flexible. Bruce bends without a hitch, his legs now on each side of his head.
Satisfied, Dick leans back slightly to get a better angle, watching his own thick dick sliding in and out of Bruce's wet hole with wet, squelching sounds. Then, he pulls it out, letting it flop over Bruce's wet, puffy cunt.
Living up to his name, Dick grinds back and forth, hitting Bruce's throbbing clit with the tip of his cock. Over and over again until Bruce can't stop shaking.
"That good?" Dick asks, breathless. He knew well how Bruce could only get off through clitoral stimulus, and damn if that didn't get him off, too.
Around his cock, that delicious cunt clenches greedily, threatening to swallow him whole if he misjudges the trajectory of one single thrust.
"Yeah," Bruce gasps, feeling tortured and worshiped at the same time. He can barely move in his current position, simply allowing Dick to take control.
Seeing Bruce's reaction, Dick drowns in arousal and congratulates himself for holding on and not drenching Bruce's cunt in cum. He needs to drop it all inside; the only way he has ever done it since learning Bruce was strict with the birth control. Taking a deep breath to calm down does nothing, for he can only smell their combined odors, again almost bringing him to the brink of an orgasm. He can only move like a fucking machine, grinding his cock against Bruce's sensitive clit, applying just the right amount of pressure.
Soon enough, the shaking turns into visible trembling as Bruce's legs convulse and his back arches off the bed. Another orgasm builds inside him, threatening to erupt.
Dick has never seen an act so beautiful. Someone so beautiful. His heart swells, and his cock pulses at the sight of Bruce falling apart.
"Hold your legs, baby," Dick says, but it sounds so ruined it's almost inaudible. He wants to brush Bruce's fringe to the side, hold his face, kiss him silly. He wants to reach down and play with his clit as he plunges his cock inside again. He wants he wants he wants.
Despite the cloud that fogs Bruce's brain into pleasurable stupidity, he just barely manages to process Dick's words. His body responds to the order placidly, lifting his arms to hold himself open and folded, hands under his knees to keep each leg out of Dick's way and on each side of his head.
It has been a long time since Bruce shed any lingering shame at having his wet, trembling cunt completely exposed. There was no point in self-deprecation, not when Dick's breath hitches at the sight each and every time.
"How are you so gorgeous?" Dick finds himself asking. "How did I land you?" His eyes glisten like he couldn't believe it himself. Something about it makes Bruce snort.
"Well," Bruce licks his swollen lips, "you were insistent."
"Consistently insistent." Slowly and sensually, Dick slides his cock back inside, rejoicing in the warm, tight heat again. "You- god- Oh, fuck, you like... like that," He can't move, "consist- consisntenl-? consistent-?" He had just said it right, yet now, he couldn't even form a goddamn thought. Can't move or he'll cum immediately. Instead, with one shaking hand, he reaches down to part Bruce's lips and reveal his red, throbbing clit.
If he can't think, he can please.
Barely a few tugs and a roll between two fingers, and Bruce chokes out a sob. Much like his lover, Bruce is hanging on the brink of sanity, so full, sore, stretched, and stimulated that it feels like his brain is melting inside his skull.
It hits like a stab wound; a fourth, sluggish orgasm, Bruce's cunt clenches desperately around Dick's thick cock. It makes Dick groan, low and ruined, unable to hold it any longer.
The sloppiest, most pathetic thrust before he empties his balls inside the snug, convulsing hole.
The sensation is intense, so overpowering. Dick's eyes roll back. An euphoria so intense that strength from nowhere replenishes his body again, and he starts thrusting deep inside, again and again. He is holding Bruce's jaw open with one hand because there was no way he was going to let Bruce swallow back his moans. Dick needed to hear it all. All the while, the other hand works Bruce's clit frantically past overstimulation.
With heaving groans, Dick's cock pulses rhythmically, filling the man below him with warm cum. It's not the most comfortable position, but anything is worth it if it serves to ruin Bruce further.
There's no initial reaction, for Bruce is still reeling. The feeling of Dick's release warms him from the inside, raising his already overheated body temperature even higher.
It's a strange thing, to be fucked and bred so lovingly, like he is fragile and precious and worth breaking apart over. Like he's the only thing that matters. Dick loves that fiercely all the time, but it's in moments like this that Bruce realizes it. Dick's face is buried against his neck, each pant and broken so loud Bruce has trouble hearing himself.
It takes a few seconds for both of them to disengage. If allowed, Dick could just stay collapsed onto Bruce's front, his softening dick nestled inside that well-fucked cunt. To simply let his eyes remain closed and stay in that moment forever. Above him, Bruce is panting heavily, and Dick goes from pressing his face down to peeking up.
Their eyes meet, and almost instantly, Dick lets out a labored laugh.
"Hey," he whispers softly, his voice thick with post-coital affection. "You good?"
The process of pulling away is a slow one. Although trembling from exhaustion, Bruce slowly lets his legs unfold, falling open on the bed, spent and used.
Dick lets out a whine as his softening dick slips out, leaving the overstimulating warmth of Bruce's hole. Cum leaks down as soon as he does so, running down Bruce's taint and soaking the sheets below.
"It's your turn," Bruce then says. Dick looks up again, where he's been staring at the runny mess, "to clean the sheets afterwards."
An amused huff, and Dick sits straight up before shuffling onto Bruce's abdomen, knowing his man's larger frame can handle the weight with no problem. He gently runs his fingers through Bruce's hair, enjoying the sight of his lover limp beneath him.
"It's always my turn," Dick complains, but not really.
"Well, it's my bed, and my apartment. And your cum ruining my sheets."
"As if you didn't soak it first."
The only response he receives is a shove. Dick falls into the bed laughing, and when he looks again at Bruce (when does he ever stop looking at him?), he is met with a look so soft it makes Dick's stomach bubble with something. Hunger. All sorts of hunger.
They share a kiss. Then another. And then another kiss until their legs entangle, and Bruce is now the one slotted above him. Again, Bruce is mindful not to press down on him; instead, he rests his weight on one elbow.
"You know, I can hip thrust with a barbell way over 200 pounds," Dick points out, caressing Bruce's face with his thumb. He can't help but squeeze a bit, finding the round, full cheeks just the cutest thing ever. "You won't break my pelvis if you relax just once, babe."
"Try double that number next time," is the response he gets, which just makes Dick whine. "Why do you want me above you so badly? It's sweet, but I don't get it."
"Because," Dick drawls, stretching the word out, "I like to see you lose it. I love it. I love it when you give in. But you don't do that when all you're thinking about is your weight." He leans in and pecks Bruce again. "I want you to enjoy yourself."
"I really enjoyed myself," Bruce assures, "And you? You only came once."
That was once a thing about Bruce, how he could swerve the conversation away from him. And like Dick has done ever since they met, he lets it happen, swallowing the ill sense of familiarity that those mannerisms sparked.
"Don't want to exhaust you," was his answer.
Bruce hummed, his eyes trailing downwards. Just as he could feel, his legs were still spasming since his last orgasm. That didn't mean he could not continue. Dick must have caught on to that.
"How about this," Dick continues, "we eat something. Breakfast in bed. Some- oh, the leftover from yesterday!"
"The fried chicken and fries?"
"Yeah! We eat those, some coffee, whatever else, and then you can ride me." Dick grinned, finding his plan flawless. His heart stutters when Bruce laughs.
"You're ridiculous."
Dick wants to stay here forever.