title : In the Mirror
author : nw's chick
disclaimer : they don't belong to me and i don't make money off of them. but they sure are pretty to look at....
this is for rith, because, gosh darnit!, she deserves it!
*-*-*-*
Dick barely had the strength to speak. "This is so unfair."
Garth didn't bother responding. He just shifted ever so slightly so that Dick would know he had heard.
"There I was, minding my own business, cleaning my hard drive, getting ready for a quiet afternoon, a little r and r, and then bang!"
"Hmmmm...." Garth decided to shift a little more. The very tip of his cock was still inside of Dick, Dick's legs still wrapped around his waist, they were sticky and stank so badly they could probably smell him in Atlantis, and all he wanted was to lay his head down on his lover's chest and go to sleep. "bangs are fun."
Dick smiled, too tired to giggle properly. "It's so unfair. I have all these switches and you know exactly where they are, and you don't have any and if you did I wouldn't know where they were..."
Garth tried to pick his head up to look Dick in the eye, got a little light headed, and decided just to murmur inquisitively.
"Switches. When you are in the mood and you need to get my blood rushin', all you have to do is bat your beautiful eyes.. lashes, or wave your hands around like you do.... And what do I have to work with when I get that special feelin'? It's unfair, I say." Dick's fingers found the back of Garth's neck as if they had lost it, kneading.
Garth chuckled. "Oh, yes, poor unattractive you, can't ever get my blood rushin', as you so quaintly put it, when you need it. My heart bleeds for you, it does."
Dick sighed deeply, with feeling. "It's my own fault for falling for someone so much better looking than me. Of course, there are fringe benefits...."
Garth thought about laughing out loud, decided it would take too much energy, and then decided that maybe making decisions wasn't such a good idea right now. "Mm. Well, you *are* awfully lucky that I don't care too much about looks. Because, you know, otherwise I wouldn't be waving my hands around for you."
Dick grinned, pushing his face into his lover's neck. "Ordinary guys like me have to rely on hot guys like you making poor decisions."
Garth was considering laughing, when something struck him. "Robbie? You... are joking, right?"
"About what?"
"About... all of this. The, er, switches, and you being so much less attractive than me."
"Well. I am. I'm realistic. I have eyes, and all. I don't have a problem with it or anything. I rather enjoy it, as a matter of fact. But, anyway, it is a little frustrating, knowing I have to work so much harder at this than you do."
Garth was working up the energy to be incredulous. He was also cursing his fate at being stuck madly in love with someone whose rare serious moods usually came right after athletic, adventurous sex. "*That* *is* a joke, right? I've been in love with you since we were teenagers! Honestly, *I'm* the one who has been working in this."
Dick stiffened, as much as his boneless and completely satisfied body would allow. "I know that. God, I know that. But, I only meant..." His voice had that nearly desperate quality it took on when he was talking about something really important to him that he had no idea how to express.
Garth groaned, internally, since he didn't any more groans in him after their latest session. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant, *physically*, it took me *years* to get your attention."
"Oh, not really. I mean, I've always been fascinated by you. I guess, for a long time, well, I didn't think of you that way. But that doesn't mean that I didn't find you attractive. Just because it took me a long time to put two and two together doesn't mean that they didn't always add up to four. Or something that makes sense. Anyway, you had my attention. I just didn't know what to do with it. Or,..."
Garth shook his head. This was not a time to be discussing their history. This was a time for sleep. He pulled out, separating themselves slightly, causing them both to moan and whimper. "Robbie. What I mean is, I am not more attractive than you are. You are... the most beautiful man I've ever known. It's just... too odd, to joke about that. You *must* know how desirable I find you. How hard it has been, over the years, restraining myself. How deeply you affect me."
Dick sighed. "But that's because you... you care for me. Love me? So, naturally, you find me desirable. But... you make my blood boil. Sometimes, I just need to look at you to get going. You are just... so fucking gorgeous."
Garth propped up on one elbow, searching for any signs of humor in his lover. Finding nothing but a resigned sense of contentment, Garth decided, with much hesitation, that they had to get out of bed to settle this.
Sighing viciously, he pulled himself up, taking Dick's hand. Blue eyes opened to give Garth a look of quiet disbelief, before Garth pulled Dick bodily out of bed.
Laughing, and wheezing, Garth dragged Dick towards the bathroom, taking advantage of Dick's lax position to tickle and generally abuse him. Dick laughed, protesting, "What the HELL are we doing out of bed? C'mon! I'm sleepy! Please! Ah!!! Don't tickle me there, you know what happens!"
Pulling Dick's body flush against his own, Garth took a moment to consider what happens when he tickled Dick there. Then he remembered what he was doing there.
"Look." Garth's voice was a gentle whisper against the skin of Dick's neck. "What do you see?"
Dick's eyes turned to the full-length mirror they stood in front of, considering how much Garth's being there with him changed everything. "I see the most beautiful man in the world, holding up his exhausted and *spent* lover in front of him...."
"No." The word was far more firm than Dick was used to hearing from Garth. "Look. What do you see?"
Dick was confused, now. Was this a game? It didn't feel like it. Why was Garth taking this so seriously? "I see... myself? Naked, sweaty, I've got dried spunk on my side.... damn, I'm not sleeping in the wet spot again. As long as you are so awake, why don't we change the sheets?"
Garth sighed a patient sigh that Dick loved in a sad way. "Look. Follow my hands. Try to focus." Garth's gentle humor. "Look. At these strong, agile legs." Fingertips dropped to flesh to trace lines in Dick's body, following the fluid tracks of muscle on his thigh. His nerve endings fired like crazy, and he leaned back against the solid weight of his lover. "This slim waist," fingertips followed the hipbones to play in the curls at the very tip top of Dick's groin, "not to mention the meaty goodness below. The perfect abs," fingertips trailed through the bevels of Dick's abs, "the broad pecs, the way the muscles flow from your chest to your arms," fingertips now tracing down and back up the arms, "the smooth lines of the neck, the solid jaw, full beautiful lips," fingers played with the mouth, dipping in and pulling out teasingly, "thick dark hair like silk."
Dick was aroused, so deep within himself, even if his body was too drained to show it. He breathed deeply from the bottom of his gut. The air was full of *them* and he loved it, loved his life right now. He felt dizzy, too overwhelmed. Trying to focus on Garth's words would have been impossible were it not for the lilt of the voice that coaxed pleasure from him effortlessly.
"Look. What do you see?"
"Us." Dick's hands covered Garth's, a simple gesture of possession.
Garth sighed. "Have you no experience with aesthetics? Can't you see how beautiful you are?"
Dick shook his head, unable to process and too tired to understand. "*You* are beautiful, exotic, strong, *magical*. I'm... I'm not like the rest of you. I'm strong, yes, but I have to work hard at this every day."
"Isn't that effort commendable?"
Dick tried to focus on words. He wasn't even sure he knew what he was trying to say. "I'm... just a guy, Garth. I'm not like you, I don't have a great birthright, I'm just a circus brat. I'm not like Donna, I'm never gonna be confused with a god. I can't do anything outside the laws of physics, like Wally, I can't hit any target with any weapon, anytime in any situation, like Roy. I'm not Bruce." An inescapable edge to his voice now. "I'm not... driven, or obsessed enough to supersede human limitations. I'm just a guy in a mask, doing what I can. Training endlessly. Making mistakes, so many mistakes."
Garth had to stop him, this, now. He was getting tired of Dick's guilt, and only just beginning to fathom the depths of that guilt. Dick's guilt was deceptive, it wasn't as obvious as his mentor's, but it was just as compelling.
Turning Dick to face him, Garth cupped Dick's face in his hands, and kissed him. "You are beautiful to me, you always have been. I wish I could show you yourself through my eyes." His voice so soft and musical, the accent of his people vibrant in his emotion.
Dick smiled. "Ah, well, having successfully tricked you into falling for me, I'll settle for being able to gaze into your eyes. And who knows? Maybe someday I will see myself there. After I've thoroughly corrupted you, of course."
They were smiling and laughing as they fell, literally, into bed, lying on top of each other to avoid changing the sheets, and because they liked being on top of one another in a heap.
Garth dreamed of making love to Dick surrounded by mirrors, under water.
*-*-*-*
Garth sat at the computer, nervously tapping his finger soundlessly against the side of the keyboard, watching Dick. He felt his nerve endings tie themselves together as he watched his lover pull and play with his lips while he read. He was well-used to watching and being turned on by the man at the other side of the room; his whole adolescence was spent trying not to be obvious about his attraction. Now, though, when he imagined those fingers playing with his flesh, he could feel their tickle, when he imagined those lips moving down his skin, he could feel their heat and pressure, and when imagined the sweat running down the back of that neck as the dark head settled between his legs to work him into a frenzy, he could taste it.
Garth shifted in his chair, adjusting himself.
Dick had come home that evening early, early enough that there were several hours separating the Officer Grayson part of his day from the Nightwing part of his day. *Enough* time.
But Garth had a speech to give to the UN tomorrow, and four ready-made speeches from various political and diplomatic advisors that he needed to synthesize into one message that would represent his own viewpoint, the needs of the Atlanteans, and their King.
Not an easy thing to do.
He did *not* have time for sex. He *didn't*. He just plain didn't.
He couldn't stop watching those fingers, and those lips.
Dick had wanted to, but easily accepted that they couldn't. He never pushed, not even the slightest when it came to sex. Garth found it commendable, if a tad bit disappointing, that Dick never thought to push when he was in the mood. So tonight, when he came to Garth, gently and sensually suggesting a plan for the evening, Garth wasn't at all surprised by his quick retreat as soon as Garth shrugged him off.
But then, when Dick was reheating his pasta, he was 'stretching', which, for Dick, meant that he was balancing himself on the kitchen island, bringing his legs up off the air, holding himself up on the palms of his hands, his perfect round ass above his head and his strong, lean legs scissored out 180 degrees from one another.
Garth watched intently. Ever since he had first met Robin, he had been just intensely fascinated by his friend's gymnastic ability. And now, he knew how *useful* such a flexible lover could be...
Twitching slightly, he turned his eyes back to the screen, trying to remember that he was writing a speech.
Dick sat on the couch and put on some music, soft music he had learned did not disturb Garth's sensitive ears. Music Garth found amazingly erotic. And proceeded to eat his food with his fingers. His pasta. With the thick tomato sauce. It was disgusting. Repellent. Watching those messy fingers slip into and out of that mouth....
Garth forced himself to stare at the words on the screen, trying to remember how to read.
Dick finished, and remembered to rinse off his bowl and leave it in the dishwasher. Then went back to the couch to read.
And play with his mouth.
Those fingers were both strong and gentle. That mouth that was so talented and eager. The furrowed brows that needed soothing. That lock of dark hair that insisted on falling into his eyes, and he hardly ever noticed.
By Pallais, Garth loved that lock of hair.
Garth stared back at the computer, trying to remember that he had work, important work, and that it needed to be done, and he needed plenty of rest, and he had a really important speech at the UN tomorrow.
Dick had stubble on his chin; that was the kicker, really. Garth preferred smooth-faced men, disliked facial hair. He was naturally fairly smooth himself, and it usually took a few days to grow substantial amounts of stubble. Dick was borderline obsessive about his stubble, shaving twice a day usually. If Dick caught sight of his reflection anywhere, he would probably jump up and head straight for the bathroom.
Garth watched that stubbled chin move as Dick's jaw moved as he played with his mouth.
It was just so *fucking* masculine. Garth could imagine the coarse short hairs rubbing against his face, his lips, his thighs as Dick's mouth moved....
Speech. He had a speech to write. He did. He had a job to do. He did stuff. Other than fuck Dick Grayson.
Speech. What was it about, again?
Dick, getting restless after having spent the last fifty seconds in the same spot, squirmed and shimmied until his head was flat on the couch, one leg slung over the back of the couch, and the other splayed out onto the coffee table.
Garth promptly hit save and closed up the computer. Calmly, he walked to the kitchen, grabbed a quick slug of water, and then went into the living room. Where he calmly tossed the magazine Dick was reading aside and lifted his lover into a fireman's carry, then calmly trotted off to the bedroom.
A few sweaty hours and one broken lamp later, Dick lay on the bed spent and boneless, still wondering what the hell had happened.
Garth was lapping up the sweat and semen that had gathered in the space where Dick's abdomen became his groin, just like a kitten. Dick's fingers were pulling at Garth's sweaty curls, almost of their own volition. It took several long minutes before Dick could work up the energy to speak.
"I'm *seriously* not complaining, but, uh, where the hell did that come from? I thought you had to work tonight..."
Garth paused long enough in his licking to say, "Your fault."
Dick thought for a minute, decided that hurt, and spoke again. "Um, I don't think so..."
"You were the one who was eating with his fingers, and playing with his mouth."
Dick was getting confused, and he hated that. "Uh, and that led to hot animal fucking because..."
"Plus, you were stretching."
"Hm. Yeah, I still don't see..."
"And there's the stubble."
"Stubble?"
"You have a... five o'clock shadow? Stubble. Not an everyday thing, let me tell you, but still, sexy."
Dick was now not only confused, which he still hated, but self-conscious. He had stubble? "Uh. So, it's my *fault* we had sex instead of you writing your speech because... I was eating with my fingers, stretching, and I have stubble? Garth, are you speaking Atlantean?"
"Switches. You flipped my switches."
Switches?!? Dick thought long and hard, until he remembered that conversation they had had in front of the mirror a few weeks back. Suddenly, he didn't feel so tired. "You have switches! Garth! That's fantastic! So, what are they, specifically?"
"I still have a speech to write, you know."
"Fingers in my mouth? Is that what you said? Kinda messy, but hey, whatever works..."
"More because you were playing with your mouth. And I have to deliver the speech in the morning. After getting myself to New York."
"We'll ask Babs to use the JLA transporter. It's for diplomatic purposes. Stretching, you said? I don't remember what I did, was there any particular kind of stretching you like?"
"That's immoral. And very useful. I have to do some research for the speech too, diplomatic conventions and the what not, still getting used to some aspects of my role as ambassador..."
"Fine. I'll stay in tonight and help. Now stubble? Really? Cause stubble is really gross."
Garth pulled his lover into a deep kiss, letting his tongue roll around in Dick's mouth, tasting every nuance within. "You'll stay with me, really? That is so sweet."
"Garth." And the sound of his voice was so pure... such love that Garth never expected to hear.
"Are you beginning to understand how beautiful you are to me?"
Dick fell into Garth's perfect eyes, focusing entirely on the total openness he found there. And he sighed. "Thank you. You make me feel... well, like Superman. Only, less boy scout-y."
Garth's laughter helped to finish the job of waking them up.
Much later, they worked on the speech together, Dick looking up UN diplomatic conventions while Garth troubled over the wordings of each phrase. Garth, sitting at the computer, with Dick's head resting on his thigh.
Dick caught their reflection in the blank screen of the tv, and couldn't help but be amazed at how beautiful they were together.
They were.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
{end}