2017.02.04 - A Little Get Away
The sound of the relentless surf can be heard rolling in from the open French doors which lead to the balcony of the condo. A steady breeze blows off the ocean, carrying with it the tantalizing scent of the sea. Several stories below, the pool deck is lit up with festive strings of light and the faint notes of a steel drum band can be heard.
Bruce leans against the balcony railing, looking out over the visible seascape. The moon is a waxing crescent, just barely providing any light. Some stars can be seen sparkling overhead.
Dick Grayson quietly joins Bruce, dressed only in a plain black speedo swimsuit, his muscled torso and limbs smooth and clean. He leans on the railing, eyes closed, drinking in the tropical scents and sounds. "Nice quiet flight, nice quiet night.." he says softly, shoulder brushing Bruce's.
Bruce leans in to bump his shoulder against Dick's in a companionable gesture. "I'm glad we came," he admits. "I think I needed this more than I really realized." He really had been burning the candle at both ends which was just an all too common occurrence for him. After arriving that afternoon, he had crawled into bed in the master bedroom of the luxury apartment and actually slept for several hours. "What did you do while I was sleeping?"
Dick Grayson bumps his shoulder against Bruce, smiling at his mentor. Then he steps back and reaches to a nearby table, gets something, and then is putting warming lotion on Bruce's back, his deft and strong fingers knowing the exact pressure and nerve points to hit to relax a person. "You do," he says. "You've been unusually tense for weeks," he says, not mentioning the likely source of that tension - two 'sons' he can't even remember! The boy slides his hands over muscles and spine. "I went out and looked around the local area, refilled the fridge here, and wrote the cops an anonymous note about why they have the wrong dude in jail." he shrugs. "Reality TV.." he says.
Bruce chuckles. "Sounds like you had a productive day. I was... a vegetable. Maybe this altered time thing really is affecting me," he says, pointing out one of the obvious sources of stress. "God, that feels good," he murmurs with a pleased little wriggle.
Dick Grayson slides his hands over the muscles, fingers moving to knead and stroke and rub as needed, releasing tension, relieving stress. He shifts, licking his lips slightly, his hands working lower, to the lower back. "Glad I learned this," he says. "And you deserve to veg once in awhile. I checked on everyone back in town, by the way - things are fine," he says, knowing the number one concern on Bruce's mind.
"Thanks. I was tempted to call and talk to Alfred," Bruce replies, giving voice to his concern over the issue. But he's really trying to make an effort at trusting Jason and Timothy so he didn't actually make that call. "And when did you have time to get so good at massage?" he asks, peering over his shoulder at Dick in askance.
Dick Grayson raises an eyebrow. "I have.. friends," he says, "Good way to relieve aches and pains. I've done it plenty of times," he continues with only the slightest hint of a blush. "Jason pulls his shoulder all the time because he still needs work on the decel cable skills." Butter would not melt in his mouth.
"If you studied massage therapy, you could make a mint," Bruce offers. Usually it was Alfred clucking over him like a mother hen, and the aging butler certainly wasn't giving Bruce any massages. A happy sigh escapes Bruce and he leans on his forearms which are braced on the railing of the balcony. "This is the life," he murmurs.
Dick Grayson ppphts. "What could they teach me you haven't?" the teen says as he gets more lotion and works the soothing balm into the man's muscles. "You should see what I can do with a table to work with.." he laughs. He continues to stroke and knead, until he's just about done. "It is good to get away," he says. "I love this house. You want to swim, later?"
"Hmm, good point," Bruce agrees. "But at least you'd get the nifty piece of paper saying you can do it well," he teases. "Hmm, down at the pool?" he asks. The beach is barely seen beyond the lights of the resort. It could be dangerous to swim in the dark. But then again, this is a five star resort that makes its money in part by having a nice, tame bit of beach.
Dick Grayson, predictably, says 'Ocean,' He finishes up the massage, and cleans his hands off on a towel. "Race you there? It's just a few hundred yards."
"Race there? Do you plan to jump off the balcony? You'll break your neck," Bruce says, looking over the railing of the balcony. "We're five floors up, Dick," he points out. "Or do you plan to swan dive down into the pool?" he asks, chuckling and shaking his head a bit.
"C'mon," he says, sliding an arm across Dick's shoulders and trying to steer the youth back into the condo. "Let's grab our towels and take the elevator down like normal people for once."
Dick Grayson phhht. "Five stories... I can..." He acquiesces at the arm around him and walks with Bruce, leaning against him just a little. "Ohhhhkaaaayyy," he says, all exaggeratedly. "I /guess/ we can do that..."
Bruce ruffles Dick's hair affectionately then breaks away to retrieve his beach towel from the master bedroom. Coming back into the main living room area, he drapes the towel around his neck and picks up one of the keycards off the bar.
Dick Grayson gets his own towel and a pair of sandals just in case, and retrieves his own card. He picks up a small beach bag as well, and puts a couple of cold drinks in it.
It's a risk to go barefoot, but Bruce does it anyway. Leading the way, he heads out of the condo and down the hall to the elevator. Soon enough, a car comes and it's a short trip down to the resort lobby then out the back doors and across the pool deck to get to the beach.
Waves lap at the shore in the darkness, barely seen with the limited moonlight. Bruce stands on the beach for a moment and takes a deep, cleansing breath while reaching up in a big stretch. He lets his breath out on a long, happy sigh and flicks his towel out to lay on the sand, tucking the keycard under one corner.
Dick Grayson puts his towel down beside Bruce, and slips his card into the bag, which he unzips partially. "You want to go swim?" he says, backing up towards the dark softly lapping waves.
"That sounds great," Bruce replies, walking toward the water. It's not a very long walk and pretty soon he's wading into the ocean. He heads in until he's about waist deep then he dives, disappearing under the water.
Dick Grayson slips into the water as well, the young man kicking hard as he rolls in the surf, and slides under the water as well, breaking the surface several yards out. He's a strong swimmer, utterly at home in the water.
After a moment, Bruce's head breaks the surface and he bobs there looking around a bit. The water is actually a bit on the cool side. Even in the tropics the temperature drops a bit during the winter.
Dick Grayson quickly strokes over to bob next to Bruce, until a wave slides him against the man's strong body, and he laughs and puts his hands on Bruce's shoulders. "See, this is nice," he laughs as he treads water. The slight coolness makes the boy's nipples pop, dark hard nubs on his smooth pecs.
Bruce grins at Dick, the brief flash of his even, white teeth standing out in the wan moonlight. He rests his right hand on Dick's shoulder. "A bit more bracing than I was expecting," Bruce says, "But you're right, it's nice." The cool water was having the same effect on his body, making his nipples tighten up into hard points.
Dick Grayson mms as he kicks slowly to maintain his position, and he slides his hands down over Bruce's chest, then lean and embraces him lightly, laying his head on the man's shoulder, his strong form brushing his mentor's the youth sighing softly.
Bruce treads water carefully, not wanting to accidentally kick Dick. He slides his right arm around Dick and gives him a light hug. He is all sleek muscle with a faint hint of his cologne still lingering, not yet washed away by the ocean.
"I seldom get to be close to you," the young man says as his embrace tightens a bit, his hands sliding up the man's back. He shifts, feeling his suit get tighter as he feels Bruce's solid warmth against him in the slightly chilled water.
"Sorry, Dick. Have I been distant lately?" Bruce asks with a note of concern. "I've had a lot on my mind that's been distracting me."
"We're both busier than most people.." the youth chuckles. He slides against Bruce's strong form, his own leaner hard young body reacting, as he shivers a little. "It's just glad to slow down a little, once in awhile.." he sighs, letting the ocean rock them.
Bruce nods, a chuckle of his own rumbling in his chest. "You're right," he agrees. "About the only time we ever really do slow down is when we're too injured to keep going. And even then, we still try." Feeling Dick shiver, Bruce tips his head back to get a better look at the young man. "Too cold? Want to get out?"
It's probably too dark for Bruce to see his protege blushing. "No, I'm fine," Dick says after a bit. "I.. don't wanna get out right now." Read: can't. He looks at Bruce, meeting his eyes, his lips parted just a little as he smiles.
All right," Bruce says with a nod, lightly patting Dick's back with his right hand. And he seems content to just float there with the ocean gently swelling and falling with them.
Dick Grayson sighs as he drifts there, until he feels his intense excitement abate, and then he nods slowly, reaching up to slide hands over Bruce's shoulders. "We can go back now," he says quietly, kicking to part from the man by inches.
Bruce tightens his embrace for just a moment, a last show of the affection he rarely voices. Dropping his arm to allow Dick to put some distance between them, he turns and starts stroking through the water toward the shore. They weren't out very far and in just a moment Bruce is able to touch bottom and wade in. The breeze coming in off the ocean chills him and he's quick to pick up his towel and wrap it around him. He grabs the keycard off the ground a moment later.
Dick Grayson smiles at Bruce as he dries himself off, and scuffs his feet in the sand, still warm from the day's heat. "Wow that was a little chillier than I thought it would be," he says.
"Yes, it was," Bruce agrees. "But I guess they get a little bit of winter here. Still this is better than snow in Gotham."
Dick Grayson flashes a smile as he towels off his hair. "Anything is better than snow in Gotham, Bruce," he grins. He finishes drying off and slips on his sandals. "Thank you; that was fun," he beams.
"Sure thing," Bruce replies with a smile. And it's an easy, relaxed smile, not his carefully cultivated for the media smile. "Want to head in and see what movies they've got?"
Dick Grayson beams at this, the youth looking as excited as when they leap into the Batmobile. "Sure!" he says. "There's popcorn, too.."