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DCU: Syrup and Spice (Dick/Roy, Lian, M)

Title: Syrup and Spice
Fandom: DCU
Characters: Dick/Roy (Nightwing/Red Arrow), Lian
Warning: R.I.P. is not my fandom; abuse of maple syrup - still too damned sweet; boys being boys.
Rating: M for Mature, but mostly for implications
Summary: Dick wants to make it simple again.
A/N: for moosesal who asked for Dick/Roy, maple syrup. It's not exactly what I was expecting, but these boys will be boys. <3

Roy's sweats hang low on his hips, in part because even with a year's worth of training bulk Roy's hips are just bigger. He's lucky Dick's not the bitchy girl Roy likes to call him. He'd be forced to tell Roy to go on a diet. Dick grins imagining Roy's entirely predictable "you liked 'em fine" response and nudges the French toast with the edge of the state-of-the-art spatula from Roy's pristine kitchen. He does like them, even if getting back there again's complicated, and that's the other part. Roy's still sleeping in the bed he just left and Dick wants to send Lian off to school and spend the day there with him, making it simple again.

So the fraying waist of Roy's gray sweats rest just above his right hipbone and have slid beneath the left. The cut-up T he grabbed bares the bite-bruise on his shoulder from complicating things last night. And he's making breakfast. Pretty much, he's a walking invitation for Roy's hands and mouth, all decently wrapped to avoid scarring the little girl he loves like a daughter.

"Dick!" Speak of the angel...her arms are up, imperious the way only a kid can be. She'd been asleep last night when he showed up needing his best friend and now she wants a hug.

He scoops her up one-armed, holding her on his hip like he did the day he brought her to Roy. "Hey, princess," he says, the smile he saves for people he loves unconditionally softening him all the way to his toes. "How are ya?"

Toothpaste-smeared lips smack his cheek. "Good," she says in the matter-of-fact, almost bored tone kids have and gives him the eyes of irresistibility - it's a superpower. He's convinced. "I brushed my teeth. My school bag's packed. Can I have some of that?" She points to the plate piled with French toast that's waiting for her. "I want syrup. The real kind."

He's just straightening her hair when Roy appears in the doorway and he's dropped like hot cakes. "Daddy!"

"Hey, princess," Roy says and holds out his arms. Dick delivers her, heart catching stupidly for the way they both said the same thing, like he didn't learn it from Roy, and probably for the fact he really wants to lean across Lian and kiss Roy good morning. Roy jerks his chin toward the stove. "You're burning my breakfast, Shortpants."

"My breakfast and Lian's." Unfazed, Dick flips the unburnt French toast from the skillet onto the stack. "You're on your own, Speedy."

"That's Red Arrow--" Roy says.

"Red Arrow!" Lian pipes up.

"--to you, Boy Wonder."

"Nightwing, Daddy."

Roy cocks both eyebrows at his daughter, but she just giggles.

"Now that that's settled..." Dick shoots her a grin and a thumbs up from the stove, pretending the non-existent smoke is what's making his eyes sting. "Where's the syrup?"


Forty-five minutes later, Roy's walking Lian to the bus stop and Dick's cleaning up the breakfast dishes. Roy can wash them. He cooked. But Alfred tsking in his head is enough to get them from the table and counter to the buffed-to-a-sheen sink. He picks up the maple syrup to put it back in the cupboard over the stove. Stretches on the balls of his feet, t-shirt riding up and sweats slipping another notch.

"The hell are you doing, Dick?" Roy growls, heated, and Dick couldn't have timed it better if he'd planned it. Because he did - he's been standing here waiting for the front door to close with a sticky maple syrup bottle in his fingers for five minutes now.

Pupils already dilating, Dick sets the bottle down again and licks his fingers, watching the flutter of Roy's pulse at his throat. "Thought that was obvious, Roy." Pissed off was always one possible reaction. Dick can handle it.

"It's not just us anymore." Roy runs a hand through his hair and paces half the length of the kitchen. He hits the end and pivots, yanked back like he's on a leash. "You can't do this shit to her."

Arms coming up to criss-cross his chest, Dick leans his hips against the counter, ankles loosely crossed. Casual, but Roy knows exactly how fast he can get from here to the other side of the kitchen. And him. "Do what to her?"

Roy glares. Shakes his head and growls, slow, not soft. He's honestly thinking about throwing a punch. Dick can tell from the tension vibrating off Roy's forearms. He wants to release it with his teeth tugging against the inside of Roy's wrists and his tongue tracing the whorls of his tribal tattoo.

"C'mon, Roy, talk to me. Do what? You know I'd throw myself off Luthor Tower before I'd hurt Lian."

"This!" Roy explodes, grabbing the syrup from the counter and holding it in Dick's face.

It's incriminating evidence of something, obviously, but Dick's not clear what. Making breakfast when he spends the night is classy. Doesn't matter whose bed he spends the night in, he'll do it. Why not for Roy and Lian? "She didn't eat enough of it to sugar crash--"

Deep snarl, Roy's eyes blaze -

His left hand hits Roy's upper chest and curls, fingers not making it even halfway around his archer's heavy-muscled shoulder. "Okay," he breathes, stupidly aroused - heart pounding, cock filling and lifting toward his belly - in the face of Roy's anger. "Seriously, what? Tell me, and I won't do it again."

Roy's jaw clenches, ticking, and Dick can taste it, musk and sleep-sweat and the maple syrup on his own tongue. His fingertips feel the flat muscle bunching. He pulls his eyes away, looking past him and counting to twenty backwards in Rom.

"This." Roy shoves Mrs. Butterworth's chubby serenity in his face again. "Play Lian's got two daddies!" The words tear from him, raw and bleeding and slam into Dick like a 9mm cartridge.

"Roy..." Low-soft, but Roy's not listening. The bottle bounces off the counter behind his hip. Syrup drips off the sparkling edge, the unmarked skin over Dick's hip, his forearm. There's a sticky-warm splash on his belly above the blade scar from Tanner that Roy always said looked like he'd had a C-section before dragging his tongue over it; syrup rolls off Roy's fist like he just jerked off the bottle. Quietly, Dick tells him, "I'll get that."

Roy swears and whirls away, but his back hunches and humps. His fists clench with the threat he doesn't need to put in words, not when it's just the two of them. "Leave it."

"Roy--" Dick sucks in a breath, vision swimming, suddenly not sure. He'd wanted to make things simple again. Fucking instead of fighting. Spend the day in bed, mapping each other with thumbprints, teeth marks, slicks of spit and trails of come, showering and doing it all again - before patrol and again after waking Lian to kiss her goodnight. Waking up and making breakfast...

And then he's sure again. It's simple. "Roy, what if I'm not playing?" Dick's also pretty sure the squeaking he hears is Roy's teeth being ground to stumps. "I mean it. What if I'm not playing?"

The repetition pulls Roy's head up from between his shoulder-blades. He turns back, slow and deceptively light on his feet for the weight of his gaze while it searches Dick's face. Dick lets him see - you, me, Lian, why not? clear and incongruously transparent in Bat-blue eyes, and Roy uncoils, an unstrung bow, a lazy smirk overtaking its precedent scowl. "Then you better hope Mrs. Butterworth's feeling real damned fresh."

Even for Dick, the emotional logic takes a few beats to track. When he gets there, to maple syrup for lube, Dick's nostrils flare - with the laugh he's holding back. Even the original Robin knows better than to laugh when his partner's proposing kitchen-counter make-up sex. "C'mon, Roy, you can't--"

"Watch me," Roy threatens, a deep, dark purr that Dick's about to answer when Roy grabs him around the back of the neck and his syrup-sweet mouth crashes down over his hard enough to split both their lips. Then Dick really doesn't care. He's too busy licking the smooth sweetness from Roy's tonsils.

He takes the moment to grab the Jergens from beside the sink and shove it into Roy's hand. Hand lotion's way better than syrup for fucking, but it turns out Mrs. Butterworth's perfect for sated licking-kissing I-remember-you and want-you-again lazy kitchen-floor blow jobs.

By two o'clock, they're both easy and simple. The most complicated thing on their agenda is getting the syrup out of Dick's hair before Lian gets home.


( 16 comments — Leave a comment )
Nov. 21st, 2008 12:20 am (UTC)
Cue insane squeals of delight. OMG, I don't even have coherent feedback right now because I'm just overwhelmed that you wrote just exactly what I wanted. This is the fic I've been wanting for years. This is the fic I wanted for Yuletide before the cut Outsiders from the list of fandoms. This is ... my everything. I love you. OMG. *dies*
Nov. 21st, 2008 12:37 am (UTC)
*laughs and twirls you* You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. I mean, I knew you wanted a domestic partnership fic so you wouldn't mind, but my original vision of this was pure porn, Dick licking maple syrup off Roy. But then Lian crept in, because she'd have to be there, of course, and then how would they be together, and it would have to wait for her to leave, and... well...yes, anyway. *flails*

What I'm inelegantly trying to say is that I'm really happy you're happy because I love them too. And you're right. This should be. ♥
Nov. 21st, 2008 01:05 am (UTC)
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee yaye Dick and Roy!! This was fantastic, Allie. I love, I love! \o/!!
Nov. 21st, 2008 01:23 am (UTC)
Awwww. I'm so glad you liked it. :) Thanks for reading honey!

It's weird that Dick ships for me with everyone. I'm not normally able to do that. But I do love the domestic Dick/Roy partnership. \o/
Nov. 21st, 2008 01:14 am (UTC)
Oh, wow, that was...

Damn, this was so good. I love Dick and Roy being simultaneously porny and domestic. I love the tension, I love the love, and I wish to god this was canon. Get a job at DC for me? Pretty please?

While you're working on that, more beautiful stories about a BatArrow family would be lovely.
Nov. 21st, 2008 01:26 am (UTC)
Oh, I wish it were canon too. I wish it a lot. I'd love to have novel after novel of them together, and you know the comics because we should get to see them being pretty like this, yes?

Am very very glad you enjoyed it. I'd love to work for DC! And, I don't know. I tend to float in and out with my writing. I love them, so it's likely, but every time I promise, stuff doesn't happen. So, no promises, but know that *I* want to write more!
Nov. 21st, 2008 02:24 am (UTC)
Send them some of your less-porny shite. I have no idea why they would think this wouldn't sell!
Nov. 21st, 2008 02:26 am (UTC)
Because they're dumb and they think R.I.P. is a good story. :P
Nov. 21st, 2008 11:52 am (UTC)
Nov. 21st, 2008 07:42 am (UTC)
This is just fsantastic... beautiful work and gladd miss butterworth wasn't used as lube because *squeek* ew.

But Lian is adorable and Dick's thing and stuff
Dec. 2nd, 2008 03:59 pm (UTC)
Yeah, seriously ICK. LOL. But Roy HAD to make the threat. :)

(Deleted comment)
Dec. 2nd, 2008 03:59 pm (UTC)
I love them. They're so adorable. :D
Nov. 22nd, 2008 01:35 am (UTC)
This is playful and sweet and fraught and hot all at the same time. Lovely work!
Dec. 2nd, 2008 04:00 pm (UTC)
Awwww, thank you! <3 I'm glad you liked it. :D
Dec. 24th, 2008 05:06 am (UTC)
That was simply wonderful. Excellent job!

Good use of syrup (sly look)
Jan. 4th, 2009 08:15 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked.

...yeah, Roy's a kinky bastard. <3 him.
( 16 comments — Leave a comment )


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