Up Against the Wall and Spread 'Em
Disclaimers: Characters and settings owned by DC Comics. They've been borrowed without permission for fun, not for profit.
Bruce Wayne, philanthropist, business tycoon, multi-billionaire and law abiding citizen, carefully checked the road ahead of him and behind. It was a blustery autumn day, and the road was one that few people used, if ever. It was out in the middle of nowhere and was one of the side roads that lead towards Wayne Manor, and it looked like no one was around for miles.
A grin split his face, and his clear blue eyes danced. Opening up the engine of his black Maserati Spyder Cambiocorsa, Bruce indulged in one of his most secret vices - speed. It was why he collected performance cars and bikes, for the rare moments when he could gun the engine and feel the vehicle throb to life all around him, or under him, as the case might be.
Wind moaned as it passed him, and he left little tornadoes of leaves in his wake. It was fantastic and a great way to unwind after a hectic day at the office. Not even bothering to watch the speedometer, Bruce guided the car by touch alone. He knew these roads like the back of his hand, knew when to speed up, knew when to slow down. He knew the curves and dips and straightaways. He had no fear of this road or the road conditions. After all, he was master of his domain and all that crap.
The siren cut through the white noise of the car's speed, coming from out of nowhere. Looking in his rear-view mirror again, Bruce saw the flashing lights of a motorcycle cop. Damn, busted!
Slowing down to allow the police vehicle to catch up to him, Bruce resisted the urge either to put the peddle to the metal or to bang his head against the steering wheel. Of all the days, Gotham's favorite son thought despairingly. He could already feel a headache coming on.
When the cop motioned for him to pull over to the side of the road, Bruce did so compliantly. No sense antagonizing the good officer. Bruce's eyebrows rose slightly, however, when the cop motioned him further down the dirt road to an old, abandoned house that probably pre-dated Wayne Manor for age. However, again, Bruce saw no sense in getting himself in even more hot water than he already was.
Parking the car, the billionaire reluctantly turned off the engine and waited for one of Gotham's finest to come and read him the riot act. After all, he had to set an example for the community yadda yadda and so on and so forth. Bruce let out a sigh. For once he'd like to be able to let off some steam in an avenue other than the dark one that came out at night. For once he'd like to let Brucie boy have a little fun!
Watching the officer dismount his Harley, Bruce couldn't help but admire the play of gluteus muscles as a strong leg swung over the saddle seat to dismount. The cop was buff; there was no doubt of that. Then the helmet was peeled off to reveal mirrored sunglasses, raven black hair and a glint of a diamond stud in the cop's left ear. What the hell?
The uniform. It wasn't Gotham PD, it was... Bludhaven PD. "Dammit, Dick! You nearly took a year off my life," Bruce fumed as he let the seatbelt loose and climbed out of the car. "What the hell were you thinking o..."
"Do you realize, Mr. Wayne, that you were doing 100 miles per hour down a side road that has been declared a 45mph zone?" Officer Grayson interrupted gruffly. "Do you have any idea what sort of damage that kind of a reckless stunt could cause? The coroner could be picking the mutilated remains of your body out of mangled metal and leather while your family was left behind to grieve. Now tell me, Mr. Wayne, is that any way for a man such as yourself to act? I would have expected it from your ward or your son Timothy but not you. I'm heartily disappointed to have to do this, you know," Officer Grayson continued in his most officious voice.
"I'm afraid you've left me no choice but to take you in."
Bruce watched as the mirrored glasses were peeled off and Dick's laughing indigo eyes were revealed. His body hardened instantly at that look. It was one he saw most often when the younger man was about to pounce him or do something so bratty and delicious that Bruce had no choice but to ravish his partner. So what game was Dick playing now...
"However, I can be..." Dick paused as he drew closer, and Bruce realized that what he thought was a bike cop uniform was simply the official Bludhaven PD leather bomber jacket over a pair of tight black jeans and Dick's motorcycle boots. He could see a skintight black T-shirt underneath the V of the jacket. Things suddenly began to click, but he was still missing a piece of the puzzle. "...Persuaded to not haul your richboy ass into jail, where I bet the criminal element would love to get you in a drunk tank for the few hours it would take to have your lawyers go through the paperwork of bailing you out."
And all the pieces finally clicked together. He'd mentioned one lazy day in bed how much he'd like to get 'busted' by Officer Grayson. Looked like today was indeed his lucky day.
"Just how do I go about persuading you, Officer?" Bruce husked in that rough gravel on silk voice that he knew drove Dick crazy. "I wouldn't want to be accused of bribing an officer of the law with money, after all."
Dick's eyes sparkled in amusement as he watched Bruce finally catch on. It had been well worth it, bribing the head of the garage to let him have his bike for the weekend. He'd had to swear on Vito's grandmother's immortal soul that all he was gonna do was drive up to Wayne manor and back. He had promised his brother Timmy a ride on a real police bike, or so he said. That wasn't why he'd wanted the bike, but he doubted very much that Vito would take kindly to the real reason. There were some things that you still didn't ask and didn't tell in the department, and that particular reason was one of them.
"Well, Mr. Wayne, I've heard you're rather skilled in Eastern techniques and healing. I have this very painful swelling problem. Perhaps you can relieve me of it?"
"I'd be only too happy to try, Officer. Perhaps we should find some place a little more secluded?" Bruce offered with a grin.
Dick nodded to the cabin. "It's actually very stable. If you would go inside, I'll see to activating the alarms. Be with you in a moment, Mr. Wayne."
Dick watched Bruce saunter in and groaned. God, he was hard enough to drill through granite! Hitting the alarm on the Mas and sauntering over to his bike, Dick quickly grabbed a small bottle of lube from one of his saddlebags and tucked it into his jeans pocket. Engaging the bike's alarm, Dick went into the cabin and shut the door behind him decisively.
"All right then, Mr. Wayne, up against the wall and spread 'em," Officer Grayson purred, stalking up to the older man. Giving the billionaire a desultory pat down, Dick's hands ended up in front of Bruce, quickly undoing his expensive, Italian tailored slacks and letting them fall to the floor. "Packing a hidden weapon, Brucie? For shame. Now I'm gonna have to do a full body cavity search."
Dick's one hand came up to turn Bruce's head just enough for the younger man to devour his lover's mouth, his tongue scouring the inside in a mock 'search'. His other hand continued to knead and massage Bruce's cock, eliciting the sort of noises his lover produced only when extremely aroused. In fact, Bruce rarely made noise when making love - it was the Bat in him, well, that and the fact that he had an impressionable teenager in the house.
Dick actually found the last rather amusing, considering the first time Bruce took him into his bed, Dick was still what they considered an impressionable teenager. Dick rarely fit into the molds he was placed in, though. Older than his age, more mature than he should be, young Dick Grayson knew what he wanted from the precocious age of 14, and what he wanted was Bruce Wayne. So he got him - eventually.
God, he loved it on those rare occasions Bruce let him take control. Not that he minded handing control over, he wasn't the one with issues. That's why when Bruce did it was that much more explosive. It went against every instinct the older man had, both as Bruce and as Batman, to give up control to anyone, even his lover, so when he gave that power to Dick, the younger man understood as no one else could the trust that was being given to him.
Like right now, watching Bruce just stand there, hands pressing on the wall, ass exposed, mouth being devoured, it was an amazing thing to see. And it was for him and him alone.
Dick let go of Bruce's erection, bringing some pre-cum up to his lips to taste and to share with his lover before unsnapping his button flys as fast as he could, not only to relieve some pressure but also to continue this little play. "Now, Mr. Wayne, you're gonna help me with that swelling," Officer Grayson intoned, even as his fingers found the tube of Wet, opened it and squirted a huge blob on his palm. Flicking the spout closed again, he pressed the bottle into Bruce's hand and then slicked himself up.
Using the excess lubricant, Dick spread Bruce's cheeks and gradually worked two fingers inside, spreading the gel and loosening his lover up somewhat. Feeling Bruce clamp down on his scissoring fingers, Dick groaned hungrily. "Goddamn but you're tight, Bruce!" he gasped, losing character momentarily.
Deciding it was better not to speak, Dick leaned forward to lave at the nape of Bruce's neck then moved down and over to the older man's shoulder blades. Latching onto the skin there, Dick began to suck even as he continued to finger fuck Bruce, eliciting more of those delicious sounds.
Bruce didn't even bother to try and stifle the noises he was making because he knew that Dick enjoyed hearing them as much as he was reveling in making them. There was something so liberating about giving up control and leaving himself vulnerable. Had it been anybody else but Dick, this would never have happened; he would never has allowed this weakness, this exposure of soul and psyche. But it was Dick, and Bruce knew he was safe and protected in the arms of his younger lover. "Please!" he gasped, finally allowing himself the release of speaking his need.
"Please what, Mr. Wayne? Please fuck me? Please stop? Please don't stop? Please ream me, claim me, take me, make me your..." Dick's voice dropped to a husky purr, and he licked his way up the older man's neck to the shell of his ear. "Please make me the love of your life? You already are, Bruce; you already are." Dick withdrew his fingers and slotted himself into the older man's channel, gliding in on a single stroke.
"Dick," Bruce sighed, allowing his head to fall back against the police officer's strong shoulder, his hands searching for and intertwining with his lover's. "Hard and fast, Officer Grayson," he demanded in that night dark voice that always made Dick wild. "I want you hard and fast."
Dick growled low in his throat and nipped at Bruce's before withdrawing and slamming back into the older man's body. Over and over he claimed Bruce, thrusting into the older man hard enough that Bruce's body was being shoved toward the decrepit wall, only the bulging muscles of their arms keeping him from touching the rough surface.
It was a mating and a claiming, pure and simple. Tonight, in the comfort of Wayne Manor's master bedroom, they would make love slow and sweet and hot enough to set the sheets on fire. But right now...
A few more stabs into Bruce's body, and Dick was cumming, biting down on the older man's shoulder to muffle his roar of completion. Pulling out rapidly, leaving Bruce groaning at the sudden emptiness, Dick dropped to his knees and spun the older man around, taking Bruce's purple-tipped and leaking erection into his mouth. Gobbling at his lover's shaft, Dick began to suck strongly, letting the baton of flesh slide down his throat as he worked to bring Bruce off.
Bruce's fingers clawed through raven dark locks, anchoring Dick to his cock even as he bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, effectively stifling the primal scream trapped in his throat. Fucking his lover's face, it only took two, three more thrusts, and then his ejaculate was sliding down Dick's ever so talented throat.
Sagging against the decaying wall, almost numb with sated exhaustion, Bruce watched as Dick cleaned him off with a few more swipes of his tongue and then stood, doing up his jeans and righting his 'uniform' as he licked his lips clean.
Kissing Bruce passionately, Dick smirked, the cocky Officer Grayson back in full force. "If you ever get tired of being a business tycoon, Mr. Wayne, I'll be only too happy to give you a recommendation for a police 'relief' worker. Consider your speeding ticket paid in full. Have a nice day." And with that he sauntered out the door.
Bruce slowly wrested control back from a nervous system gone lax with pleasure and righted his own clothing before heading out to his car. He watched as the taillight of Dick's motorcycle disappeared around the curve as he reached the Maserati, a warm feeling in his heart as he realized that Dick was watching his back even now.
Turning the ignition, Bruce wondered when the next time would be that he could convince Officer Grayson to come out and play. The business tycoon gunned the engine and headed for home, laughing as he had to admit to himself that there really was something about a man in uniform.