Chapter Text
When Bruce first saw the boy at the circus, he thought he was breathtaking. He had never seen a boy as beautiful as him. His costume did nothing to disrupt his thoughts, clinging to his tight, round, ass. To say he was disheartened when the two adult acrobats fell would have been one of the biggest lies he ever told. And as the police commissioner asked if anyone would be interested in taking the boy in, Bruce rushed over to sort out the details. The board had been begging for heirs, and science is known to fix problems with biology, and if that didn’t work, he has friends with alien tech that would certainly do the trick.
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When he first brought the boy home, he knew he couldn’t afford to scare him away. It was very important that he let the boy come to him. He took a step back from Wayne Enterprises in order to be home more. They ate breakfast and dinner together. He asked about the boy’s night, his plans for the day, his past in the circus. Every question was met by a chatterbox of a mouth. He often had to stop himself from going too far imagining what other noises that mouth could make.
He also helped the boy with his studies–he was lucky that the boy's parents homeschooled him before the accident as it allowed for him to more easily employ appropriate topics. His friend Kal taught the boy his lessons. He was excited to hear about Bruce's plans for the boy, as he believed that his friend could greatly benefit from stress relief–he was even more excited to hear that when it came time he could spend some time with Bruce and his boy.
He always left his bedroom door unlocked and ready for the b–Dick (If you say that I can’t call you Mr. Wayne you cannot call me Richard) to crawl into after a nightmare. He would hold him tight and admire Dicks tear covered face, imagining what other things his face would soon be covered in.
Almost a year had passed as Dick crawled into his bed, his face glistening with tears, tiny mouth stretched open and gasping for breaths between sobs. It seemed to be a typical night. He tried to call down the boy, rubbing soothing circles on his back, a little lower than his father did once did for him shushing him and whispering, “It’s going to be alright”, “I got you now”, and “no one will ever take you from me”.
Once Dick had calmed himself down he removed himself a bit from the hug to look into Bruce's eyes as he told him, “My parents called me Dickie, they’re not here to call me that anymore, but I have you, and you’re the closest thing I have to them so I wouldn’t mind if you called me that.” And as Bruce gazed into the boys all he could think about was the word “Daddy" coming out of his sweet boy's lips thinking only of him.
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By the time Dickie hit ten he had spent 2 years in the Manor. He rarely left the property. Bruce explained early that the people who killed his parents are still out there and they might try to get him next, and as much as it hurt to admit though he loves his parents he also loves his life with Bruce and he doesn’t want to leave him yet.
He also barely saw people. Bruce told him that he was important at work and that people didn’t want to be friends with him for the right reasons so that's why he had no friends (that's also why Dickie has to be his friend, he doesn’t want Bruce to be sad after everything he’s given him).
The people he does see are Alfred, Bruce’s Butler, and Kal, his tutor. He likes Alfred. He teaches him how to interpret Bruce and make sure that he listens. Bruce is always happy when he listens and he loves to make Bruce happy. He also has begun to teach him how to cook. Bruce gets very happy when he learns that Dick has helped with a meal.
He also likes Kal. He teaches him important things, like how princesses and princes get married, and that the prince always wins, and that the prince will make the princess feel good, but only if she does her job first. Kal also teaches him how to breathe through his nose and relax on command. When he showed Bruce that Kal had taught him that he had been super happy.
It was nighttime, Dickie was in Bruce's bed, not because he had a nightmare–he rarely had those anymore, now he had dreams where he was the princess and his prince had black, well-groomed hair, but he couldn’t make out his face–but just because he had gotten so used to sleeping in Bruce's bed those first couple years that he didn’t want to go back to his own bed, and Bruce didn’t seem to mind. As he would lull to sleep he could feel a hand roll over his butt, it was nice, it reminded him of the stories Kal taught him.
As the months went on, Bruce's touches wandered father, palming at his chest and peepee. Whenever this happened he would feel a heat in his peepee area just like the books Kal taught him said he would when his Daddy touched him there.
That was the new material they had been covering, Kal had told Bruce that he was progressing so he was going to move on to more challenging material. Before Kal began teaching him about Daddies he thought they were supposed to be like his Tata. But they weren’t. Did that make Tata a bad daddy? Bruce did the things the books talked about. Did this make Bruce his Daddy? He would have to ask him later.
Bruce loved touching his little boy. His schooling was going so well. He never questioned why Bruce touched him the way he did, or why he learned certain things from Kal. He loved showing off what he learned in school everyday. Bruce always looked forward to coming home to a fresh cooked meal, hearing what hand his little boy had in creating it, and as they sat at the table and ate, hearing about what Kal had taught him in his lessons. On special days Dickie would ask clarifying questions, like today. Today was going to be a day that lived forever in his mind.
As they sat down ready to enjoy their meal, Bruce watched as Dickie took his cucumber, shoved it down his throat, encased his lips around it, hollowed his cheeks, and sucked on it, showing off how Kal taught him how that made cucumbers tasted better. All Bruce could do was imagine it was his cock between those lips.
He thought the night couldn’t get any better, but it did. As the two of them laid in Bruce's bed, he alternated between palming Dickie's ass and tits. He opened those sweet lips and told him that Kal had begun introducing what a Daddy was to him. It was everything he wanted to hear as Dickie opened his mouth and told him, “From what Kal has explained to me, my Tata wasn’t a good Daddy. His touches didn’t make me feel really good, or leave my underwear with a wetspot, and he didn’t teach me about how a princess should act, or the proper way to eat cucumbers and eggplants, but you have.” And as Dicked lifted his head and gazed into Bruce's eyes he felt his world be reformed. “Bruce, can you be my daddy?”