Work Text:
The night sky stretched out above them, shining with the light of a crescent moon and hundreds of stars. They were spending the week at the Kent’s farm—Bruce’s only approved form of vacation. Dick and Damian lay in one of the fields, gazing up at the sky, just able to hear the soft sounds of animals in the woods and on nearby farms. Dick felt more at peace now than he had for the past few months; a major world disaster would do that, he figured. Softly, he spoke, “Dami, I’m sure you’ve noticed something different between your father and I recently…” he trailed off, waiting for Damian’s response, which came in the form of a soft huff and a nod. “I just want you to know it’s nothing you did, and it’s temporary, and we both still love you very much and—“
“Tt. Grayson I am well aware of the nature of yours and father’s relationship. For two people with secret identities, you have been terrible at hiding it,” Under Damian’s annoyed tone, Dick could hear a strain of happiness, and something else he couldn’t put his finger on.
Dick smiled softly, a little surprised, “Oh. Are you… okay with it?” Dick winced a little as he thought of all the awkward and tense moments over the past several weeks, as Bruce and he tried to find their rhythm in this new stage of their relationship, and how many of them Damian had been witness to.
“Richard,” Damian said seriously, as he rolled to face Dick, “I… You and father are two of the people I care for most in this world,” Dick smiled and rolled to face Damian as well when he paused, “If you two are happy, if you two are finally asking for something that makes you so, then how could I stand in the way of that?” Dick smiled at the reference to their conversation outside of Kadhym almost a year ago.
Dick reached out and pulled Damian in closer, wrapping his arms around him and tucking his head under his chin, smiling widely, “thank you, little D. You mean the world to me, you know? And your approval, it matters a lot.” Dick pressed a kiss to the top of Damian’s head and gave him a short squeeze.
“Unhand me, Grayson, you are being ridiculous,” Damian said. He squirmed a little, but, Dick noted, his movements only resulted in him snuggling closer to Dick, not further away. Dick smiled widely; the rest of his unease had melted away with Damian’s acceptance, and holding Damian always healed the cracks in his heart.
It was maybe twenty minutes later when a set of footsteps approached. Dick turned his head just enough to watch Bruce as he circled them and sat down on the other side of Damian. Bruce didn’t move to speak, and neither did Damian, so Dick let the silence lie for a little while, and slowly stroked up and down Damian’s back. The chorus of animal sounds and crickets chirping, cicadas buzzing, Damian and Bruce breathing, almost lulled Dick to sleep. He felt peace and contentment flowing through him, and when he opened his eyes and met Bruce’s gaze, his eyes became misty. He let the tears fall, taking with them the built up stress and worry, the fear of losing the people he loved in another catastrophe, and all of the happiness he couldn’t hold. Bruce’s mouth lifted into a soft smile, and reached out to stroke Dick’s cheek, catching some of his tears and giving him some physical comfort, though he seemed to understand that these were good tears—a sorely needed release. His next breath rattled just a bit, and Damian pushed his head right into the hollow of his throat and patted his back (a bit awkward, but the effort alone, how far Damian had come since Dick first met him, warmed Dick’s heart more than a full mug of Alfred’s hot chocolate).
Bruce spoke softly, “Are you two almost ready to come in? It’s getting late and this is a vacation after all. I’m sure Alfred would decree that adequate rest is a necessary part of it.” Damian huffed at the words but gently pulled away from Dick and turned to his back again.
“Father,” Damian started, perhaps a touch haltingly, “I am glad the two of you are finding mutual emotional benefit from your bond.” Damian paused for a moment, thinking, and quietly added, “You have both taught me that such ties are a strength, not—always—a weakness.” He sat up and looked back to Dick, smiled, and stood to start walking to the house.
Dick scooted himself over to Bruce’s side and pillowed his head on his leg. “Stay out with me a little longer?” Dick asked, “I always forget just how many stars you can see from out here.”
“Of course,” Bruce replied. He laid back and urged Dick to lay his head on his shoulder, then wrapped his arm around him, the other laying on his stomach. “Sounds like Damian took the news rather well,” Bruce observed quietly. His hand started slowly stroking up and down Dick’s arm.
“He did,” Dick smiled, “though he had already guessed so there wasn’t really a lot to say. He’s already had time to come to terms with it and work through what he feels.” Dick reached over to interlace his hand with Bruce’s. “I’m proud of him. He’s changed so much from when he first came to us.”
Bruce hummed, pleased. “It’s because of your guidance, Dick. You had more patience than I did, and the heart to teach him right.” Dick squeezed Bruce’s fingers.
“I love you,” Dick said, leaning his head back to look at Bruce’s face. Dick was almost always the first to say it, and sometimes Bruce couldn’t manage to say it back. Dick understood, though, now better than ever, and Bruce made the effort to show him when he couldn’t say the words. Today was one of these times. Bruce gently untangled their hands and stroked Dick’s jaw before tilting his head up so he could kiss him. Dick brought his hand up to Bruce’s neck, slid his fingers into Bruce’s hair. Dick relaxed into the kiss, pouring his love and admiration into the kiss. He broke the kiss briefly to roll on top of him and straddled his waist before kissing Bruce again. It started slow and gentle like the first one, but became deeper. Bruce sucked Dick’s bottom lip into his mouth, worrying it gently with his teeth, before releasing it and swiping his tongue along it to soothe any sting away. Dick opened his mouth and met Bruce’s tongue with his own. Bruce’s hands settled first on his hips, then slid up to his stomach, pushing up his shirt a little. The cool breeze ruffled the longer pieces of his hair and curled between his shirt and his stomach. When they pulled away to breath, Dick leaned his head against Bruce’s forehead, “You came out to tell us it was late,” he whispered.
Bruce hummed and sat up, sliding his hands around Dick’s back and holding him, “I did. Clark told me Martha is planning quite the country breakfast tomorrow, and expects it will be ready around nine.”
Dick laughed. “Ma Kent must have been in on the planning with Alfred, and serious about us getting more rest. That’s way later than she usually has breakfast.” Dick pulled back and slid his hand up Bruce’s chest to his mouth, tracing his bottom lip with his index finger. “I guess that means we could continue this in our room,” he whispered.
Bruce pushed himself to his feet and Dick wrapped his legs fully around his waist. Bruce started carrying Dick towards the house, supporting him with a hand under his butt and one on his back. “Yeah,” Bruce said, “I guess we could.”
