submission dated 4-8-05 (7-20-09)

author: FireCracker

(Italic copy bordered by_underscore_)

Archive? You'd better.

Warnings: None specific, m/m

Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Dick Grayson

SLOPPY SECONDS

A/U / Humor with a little heat

Sequel to NEON NIGHTS. Can the red hot lovers escape without detection?

Dick Grayson laughed hysterically, his soul bursting with joy. Strong arms wrapped a thick, sculpted body.

"Say it again!!"

Bruce split a grin, kissing. "Marry me, I said."

"Damn straight." Dick murmured against silken lips. The two men rolled on the floor, locked in a wild embrace. Slippery sounds of leather and flesh permeated the small motel room.

Leather that revealed some...very interesting outlines and bulges.

"Dick." Bruce breathed hotly, eyes glazing in passion. "We'd better stop. I just got these pants-"

A pointed tongue poked his ear. "Hmpth. You didn't mind that time I messed up your Armani suit."

Handsome features were slack in bliss. "Hah...the light gray one."

"With the olive silk shirt."

Bruce pinned Dick against his chest, seated on the floor. "I had to soak that shirt for days."

Dick licked a smooth throat. "So? You'd rather explain those stains to Alfred?"

Bruce caught a plump lip in his teeth. Dick yelped in surprise.

"Nnpfth. Your fault for being so sloppy."

Kiss. "Who sprayed the rug last night?"

"I knew you'd bring that up." Bruce groaned as fingers massaged his groin through slick leather.

"You look really hot in these." Dick purred. "Maybe I should get you a pair in red."

Bruce choked at the thought. "Me in red leather?"

Dick gave a nasty grin, rolling his lover to the floor. "And a size smaller. It would be positively pornographic."

Brilliant teeth flashed. "Pervy."

Dick peppered kisses everywhere. "You could pole dance at the clubs. A freebie for every guy that jumps your bones!"

Bruce caught the roaming mouth with his own. "You need rehab...or a good spanking."

"Mmm...so don't talk, big guy...want a quickie before we go?"

A low growl in response. "Damn, you get me up." arms wrapped Dick in a crushing hold.

Dick shoved into the hot mouth with tongue, tasting. Silence, save for the beating of hearts and slick skin under leather. Soft rustle of cloth as hands groped, loosening shirts...

A giggle.

The lovers paused in their passionate embrace. "Bruce" Dick whispered in his ear. "Did you hear that?"

A nod. "Maybe it's nothing. This isn't exactly Palace Hilton."

Dick shrugged, stretching over the larger man. Fingers scrubbed through the dark hair, tangling it. "Yeah, probably just somebody having a little party."

Bruce wrapped a hand around his neck, pulling Dick in for another kiss. "Back to our own party-"

"Mmm-"

"Hee hee!" a snigger and soft thump.

Dick rolled off suddenly. "Bruce!" he hissed.

Bruce nodded. "We aren't alone, it seems."

They stood abruptly, clothes disheveled. Dick held a finger to his lips, pointing at the door.

"There." he barely whispered.

Bruce gave a predatory grin. "Company?"

"Let's give a surprise."

()

They braced against the door. Dick held the knob tightly, counting on three with his fingers.

Bruce could only smile in agreement.

The door was abruptly ripped open. A scraggly character toppled to the floor and rolled across the carpet. He was around fifty, with stringy gray hair and watery eyes.

They stared down in disbelief. The man was wearing a trench coat with striped socks and no shoes.

Bruce stepped on his hand. "See anything, worm?!" the Bat.

The man grinned sheepishly. "Ah hey, man...it's all good. Let me up."

Dick curled a lip in disgust. "Funky creep. How long were you at the door?"

A slobber. "Long enough. Heh...me an' my friends was just lookin'."

Bruce and Dick stared at each other. "Friends?!"

The man sat up, rubbing his sore hand. "Sure, everybody does it around here. Ain't no thing. People make noise, ya wanna see."

Dick was turning purple, Bruce red.

"My name's Roach." the man smiled, patting a sizeable erection under his coat. "You guys want a friend?"

Dick was too stunned to speak. "I don't believe this crud-"

Bruce moved, eyes livid and cold. "Okay, scum." he kicked the man, rolling him with his feet.

"HEY!"

"Shut up." he kept kicking, even as Roach scrabbled to his feet. A foot square to his ass sent him flying out into the hallway. Dick slammed the door shut. They took a few moments to compose themselves.

"Mood killer." Dick mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Bruce sighed, temper fading. "Rain check on the quickie?"

Dick kissed his fingertips. "You got it. Let's blow this joint."

The larger man buttoned his shirt. "I love your way with words."

()

They made their way downstairs to the main lobby. Drunks and prostitutes littered the stairways. Dick stepped over one on the way down.

"Sheesh. Can't they even move?"

"Doesn't look like." Bruce replied. A busty woman with orange hair winked at him. Purple glossy lips smiled next to a star tattoo on her cheek.

"Hey, cutie!"

"Ah, hey..."

She bounced over, chest spilling from a tube top. "Hi. You're not from around here."

Bruce was grateful he had on sunglasses. "No, actually we were just...resting on stopover."

She winked, elbowing him gently. "Yeah, we all heard it!"

Dick gritted his teeth. "If you'll excuse us, ma'am...we're headed out."

"I would imagine. You boys want anything to eat? There's a cafeteria downstairs."

"No, we just wanted to pay up to the manager for...ah, extra damages."

A snicker. "I'm the manager, sweetie. Don't worry, you've already paid your fee. In full!"

Bruce stared at her. "How? I don't understand-"

"Name's Florine, hotpants. I just wanted a good look at you."

"What for?" Dick asked, perplexed. He noticed a small crowd forming at the base of the stairs.

Florine glanced down cracked steps. "Don't mind them, they're harmless. Most are regulars. We don't normally get so much excitement."

"I'm almost afraid to ask." Bruce mumbled.

A laugh. "Oh, it's not that bad. Around here you kind of take things as they go. Besides, its been a long night. You guys are probably starved."

Dick and Bruce both glared at her pointedly.

Florine shrugged. "C'mon, don't be like that. We've got good food here. Hot coffee, eggs, sausage. Kip makes some mean waffles-"

"Ah, who's Kip?" Dick wanted to know.

Florine hooked a pair of thick arms and pulled them downstairs. "My cousin. He just got out last week, and needed a place to stay. Kip's pitching in until he gets a job."

"But-" Bruce protested as they were led along.

"Don't worry, sexy. We've got enough here to fill anybody up."

Dick shot her an incredulous look, but kept silent.

()

The 'cafeteria' was an extension of the ratty motel, but relatively clean. Dingy, patterned carpet hid a host of unknown crud. Several tables were adorned with checkered fabric in garish shades of neon. Cardboard shakers and cheap silk flowers made a centerpiece for each. The two leather clad men received raised eyebrows and stares from the other patrons.

Florine guided them to a table covered in lime green plastic. The placemats were purple and orange.

"You boys relax. Want some coffee?"

Dick looked around. "Why's it so dark in here?"

"Because you're wearing dark glasses, honey. You wanna take those off so you can see what's going on?"

Bruce stared at the table through his own shades. "I think it's better this way."

"Suit yourself, sweetcakes. Some bender last night, huh? Been there, done that."

"About that coffee-"

"How do you want it?"

"Black with sugar, please."

Purple lips curled in a smirk. "Sure thing. What about you, peaches?"

Dick gawked at her. " 'Peaches' ?"

"No offense."

A sigh. "Just make mine strong with cream."

A wink. "You got it. And I'll have Kip bring out the works."

()

They watched her bounce off. Dick tapped the table to get his lover's attention.

"Hey."

"Ha?"

"Hey! Stop looking at her ass."

"Keep your voice down, Dick" Bruce hissed. "And I wasn't looking at her ass."

"Could've fooled me. Your head practically spun sideways."

"I merely appreciate...shapes and forms."

"You're a sleaze, but I love you anyway."

Teeth gritted. "Keep your voice down!!" eyes were watching them intently now.

Dick glanced around uncomfortably. "Oops. Natives are restless."

"And nosy."

()

The food was surprisingly good. Pancakes, potatoes and sausage all disappeared with gusto.

Dick chomped a piece of toast. "Man, I didn't realize I was so hungry."

Bruce agreed, gulping his orange juice. "Me either. This is really good."

Dick watched the strong throat flex in appreciation. "Recommendations about the...situation?"

"Which one?" Bruce answered just as carefully.

Dick's voice dropped to a near hush. "The proposed...merger."

Deeper baritone lowered also. "We may have to place it on hold, if things at the base are hot."

"Agreed. The timing of it would be hell, all things considered."

"Right. We'll talk about it more later, when things have cooled off."

It was a game they knew well, 'code' for all situations in public that couldn't be discussed directly. Not that it stopped curious stares from seedy characters wandering in for a meal. A tattooed goth type walked over, gray eyes icy pale and strange. A dark tattered vest and jeans covered his lean form.

"Hey, dudes."

They looked up. "Something we can do for you?" Dick asked.

"What are you, narcs undercover or something?"

"Why do you say that?" Bruce growled in his bat voice.

The man pointed, eyes narrowing. "I know you. Can't quite make it out, man. Strange."

Dick coughed, changing the subject. "You see narcs dress like us?"

"All the time, in Bludhaven. Stinking cops there keep busting me for every damn thing."

Dick and Bruce looked at each other.

"Yeah." the guy continued. "I mean, I ain't no 'snatcher'. But the cops there think everybody Goth gotta grab and go, you know?"

Bruce took a moment to decipher that. "Purse snatching?"

"You know it. I ain't into that petty crap, man."

"We aren't...police."

The man looked them over. "Why you wearing them glasses, then? Only narcs wear shades all the time."

Dick tapped his lenses. "Too much to drink, bud. Eyes can't take the light."

"Oh. Name's Rico."

Bruce shook his hand. "Take my word for it, we aren't narcs."

"Good deal." Rico immediately pulled out a joint and lit it. "Wanna toke?"

They stared in surprise. "No." voices in unison.

"No sweat. Later." Rico rejoined his friends at another table.

Dick leaned forward, shielding his face. "You sure these people aren't from Gotham?"

()

They finished off another pot of coffee. Florine brought them a paper and openly flirted with Bruce. Dick found himself annoyed no end at her nonstop innuendo.

And her chest seemed bigger each time she came to the table.

"Is she ever going to say what we owe her?" Dick snapped.

Bruce was reading, jaw clenched. "Never mind Florine. Look at this headline!"

"What have you got there?" Dick pulled the cover section. On it was a huge picture of drunken socialites and internationals. Many of them were captured in embarrassing and compromising poses.

WAYNE'S WORLD. A DEPRAVED NIGHT OF COCKTAIL AND POLITICS.

"The hell?!"

"It gets worse. Read the opening paragraph."

Dick scanned the bylines.

KEYLINE NEWS. GOTHAM'S OWN WAYNE MANOR ERUPTED INTO AN ORGY INVOLVING PROMINENT INTERNATIONALS FROM AROUND THE WORLD. THE GATHERING WAS ORIGINALLY INTENDED TO BE A FUNDRAISER FOR AIDS RESEARCH. THE FUNDRAISER BECAME A SEXUAL FREE FOR ALL AFTER LARGE AMOUNTS OF HIGHLY CONCENTRATED ALCOHOL WERE CONSUMED. THE EXACT NATURE OF THE SUBSTANCE IS NOT YET KNOWN.

PLAYBOY BILLIONARE BRUCE WAYNE IS UNAVAILABLE FOR COMMENT REGARDING THIS FIASCO. ALSO UNAVAILABLE FOR COMMENT IS DICK GRAYSON, HEIR TO THE WAYNE FORTUNE. SPECULATION IS RAMPANT ON THEIR WHEREABOUTS AND WHY THEY'VE DISAPPEARED. RUMORS PERSIST BOTH MEN LEFT THE PARTY TOGETHER IN A DRUNKEN STATE. HOWEVER, WITNESSES AT THE SCENE WERE ALSO INEBRIATED AT THE TIME AND THEIR STATEMENTS ARE BEING DISCOUNTED BY THE POLICE. THERE IS NO EVIDENCE TO SUPPORT CONTINUING SUSPICIONS ABOUT A TWISTED RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THE TWO MEN. THE WAYNE INCORPORATED PR TEAM IS THROWING SPIN TO THE PUBLIC. WILL WAYNE ANSWER THE CHARGES TO THIS PUBLIC RELATIONS NIGHTMARE? STAY TUNED.

Dick looked up, cheeks coloring in rage. "Dammit...why are they throwing that out there like that? It's deliberate!"

Bruce was grim. "Yes. My reputation won't hold up to these rumors much longer."

"We can't. You'll lose everything."

Bruce motioned him to quiet. "Not here. Company again."

Florine bounced their way again, smiling. "Must be a heavy conversation. You had enough?"

"More than enough." Bruce answered. His doublespeak wasn't lost on Dick. "How much do we owe you?"

"That depends." she leaned over him deliberately. "You tell me, big guy."

Bruce coughed. "We pay all our debts, Florine."

Dick cleared his throat noisily. "If you don't mind. We've got places to go."

Florine glared at him. "Cool it, cutie. I know this one's yours."

"Excuse me?" Bruce was annoyed now.

Florine put a finger over his lips. "Relax. Ain't no secrets around here, and the walls are thin."

Dick suppressed the urge to strangle her.

"Here." Bruce pressed a hundred into her hand. "Thanks for the hospitality. We have to leave now."

"Wow." she stared at the money. A sly grin. "You two... take care." and with a final glance at Bruce, she left.

Dick stood up at the table. "We'd better go, before anything else happens."

Bruce joined him. "Agreed."

()

They moved quickly through the lobby. At the main desk sat the other 'manager'. He glared but didn't speak. More weird characters dotted the hallways and lounge area.

"Worse than a circus freak show." Dick commented.

"Or a zoo." Bruce stopped suddenly. Dick almost ran into him.

"What-"

Bruce jerked a thumb. "Our friend over there."

Peering around a corner was Roach, grinning. He waved, then licked his lips slowly before drawing circles over his groin.

Dick could only stare. It was too gross to process.

Bruce snorted in disgust. "Must be from Gotham South."

TO BE CONTINUED