Title: "Scrabble"

Fandom: Batman [The Animated Series]

Pairing: Bruce/Dick

Author: MonaR. (aka Mona Ramsey, aka Mona)

Series: An un-named one. This is a sequel to "A Quiet Place".

Rating: NC-17.

Warnings: Explicit slash (m/m) content, aka naked boys doing stuff.

Archive: Sure!

Notes: I don't use betas. :( Any mistakes are solely my fault and the fault of my *#^&@
spellcheck. ** is used for emphasis, // for thought. Any weird characters should be hunted
down and killed.

Spoilers: Kinda - for "Robin's Reckoning".

Summary: Bruce learns one of Dick's 'naked thoughts' - only 48 more to go. . .

{This is really silly. :) I had several people question what the thing that Dick was thinking of at
the end of "A Quiet Place" that *didn't* involve nudity might have been, and anne just happened to suggest that *this* might be it, and - my mind wandered. Honest. It's like that. Scrabble belongs to the fine people at Hasbro. I'm thinking of copyrighting Strip Scrabble myself. :)}

"Eight, nine, fifteen, seventeen. *And* I landed on triple word score." Dick looked up triumphantly from his calculations. "You know what that means."

"I'm afraid I don't," Bruce said, calmly, craning his neck to see the board, which was currently
upside-down from his position.

"You have to take your pants off."

"I really don't remember playing this way before," Bruce said. "Are you *sure* you don't know where the rules are? I thought they were in the box-lid - "

"*Bruce*," Dick said, interrupting. "You can either start coming up with longer words, or just
concede that I'm better than you at something." He looked expectantly at his partner, who sat in
the chair opposite him, stripped to the waist and barefoot.

Bruce grimaced, but stood up and undid the belt of his pants. As he slid it out from the belt-loops, he asked, "Doesn't this count as - ?"

"No," Dick said, interrupting again. "Only complete articles of clothing, not accessories.
You're just lucky I threw in your shoes."

"Both of them together," Bruce grumbled. "A generous man would have counted them separately." He folded the pants and lay them on top of the pile of the rest of his clothing. Clad only in briefs and the tensor bandage that wrapped his injured knee, he looked over at the fire, glad that he'd built it up before they started to play. When Dick had mentioned forty-nine things he'd been thinking of that required nudity last night, the fact that Scrabble was one of them - not to mention the fact that it was the one that he wanted to *do* - had never entered Bruce's mind.

Strip Scrabble was definitely a new one on him, and the rules were *much* different from the
non-naked version, but it was still rather fun. Any word that made more than twenty points meant the lucky player not only earned bragging rights but also a piece of his opponent's clothing, while double and triple word scores had a bonus of a kiss thrown in, as well. Bruce had found himself with a pew full of dud letters - 'X', 'J', 'Z' - right from the beginning, which explained why Dick had thus far only lost his shirt and socks and shoes, while Bruce teetered on full-frontal nudity.

"Ah ah ah," Dick said, as Bruce prepared to sit down again. "Aren't you forgetting something?" he grinned.

Bruce narrowed his eyes, then leaned across the table and grasped Dick around the neck, and kissed him full on the lips, letting his tongue swirl inside the younger man's mouth. Oxygen
deprivation had to be good for *something*, after all - maybe it would throw College Boy's
concentration for a moment, and give Bruce a chance to even up the game.

Dick licked his lips when Bruce broke the kiss, but the gleam that was still in them told Bruce
that he was intent on going in for the kill. He turned the board around so that it was facing away
from Dick, and then sat back down and looked at his letters, trying to calculate his next move.

He'd need two more big-scoring words - one for the sweatpants, one for the underwear - before he'd win, and Dick only needed one. The velvet bag was almost empty of tiles, and Bruce was looking at a whole lot of nothing. He studied the board carefully, while Dick looked nonchalant - or tried to.

"You going to go sometime tonight?"

"Give me a minute."

"That's *all* I'll give you," Dick said, pointing to the timer, which was nearly empty of sand.
"You've got to put a tile down before it runs out, or you forfeit and I win by default."

"I know the rules, Dick," Bruce said, evenly, giving the timer a peripheral glance. Just then,
it struck him, and he grinned triumphantly as he put down all seven tiles. "There."

Dick looked at him with a mixture of dismay and disbelief. "Oh, no way. I thought you didn't
have any letters!"

"Neither did I. I was looking at them in the wrong way, that's all. Sometimes you just have to
look at something from a different perspective to see what's *really* there." Bruce added up his
score. "I believe that's earned me *your* pants, Dick."

"Not only that," Dick sighed. "You won the game."

"You're forfeiting your turn?"

Dick shook his head, and stood up. "You got my last piece of clothing."

"You mean - "

"Uh-huh," Dick nodded. "I'm not wearing any underwear."

Bruce swallowed, hard. "Oh."

"I really wanted to beat you at this, you know," Dick said, with mock-sorrow. "Oh, well - I
suppose I'll just have to admit defeat." He untied the sweatpants and stepped out of them when
they dropped to the floor. "You win."

Bruce looked him up and down with a penetrating gaze. "You can say that again."

Dick smiled at him. "So, what do you want to play now?"

"I'm tired of playing games," Bruce said, shaking his head. "I have something else in mind."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Bruce looked at the board. "Hey," he said, as he picked up one of the letters from his
last word and looked underneath. "Double word score."

"Is that so?" Dick leaned over the table, his hands resting on the very edge. "I didn't even
notice. Good thing you did," he said, sat down very gingerly on Bruce's uninjured leg, and
wrapped his arms around his partner's neck. "I'd hate to be accused of cheating."

"I've always found you to be very fair."

"I learned from the best," Dick said, and bent his head so that his mouth was hovering right over
Bruce's mouth. "Everything except kissing, that is," he added, and then pressed his lips softly
against Bruce's, kissing and nibbling at them. His tongue snaked out to part those lips and dip
his tongue inside, just for a second, coaxing Bruce's tongue out for a teasing game of advance
and retreat, earning a moan of need as his reward.

Dick's triumphant grin didn't last long, however; Bruce soon moved his mouth away from the younger man's mouth and kissed a wet trail to his earlobe, and then down his throat, making Dick shiver uncontrollably as several of his erogenous zones were stimulated in rapid succession. He shifted his weight so that he was straddling Bruce and rubbed his hardening cock up against a baby-smooth-skinned, rippled abdomen. Bruce moved his mouth down to Dick's nipples, and Dick's entire body tensed, right down to the curled toes that were hooked around the chair's back legs. He shifted again, just a little too much a little too fast, and the chair tipped and went over backwards, sprawling Dick on top of Bruce, who lay flat on his back on the floor.

"Hell," Dick said, rolling neatly off of him. "Did I hurt you?"

Bruce shook his head, too winded to speak.

"Alfred will kill me if I re-injure your knee," Dick said, and gave Bruce a hand up. "Bed for
you."

"And you," Bruce added, tightening his grasp on the younger man.

"I told you before, Bruce," Dick said, grinning. "I'm not going *anywhere*." He pushed Bruce down on the bed on his back, and straddled him. A small patch of wetness showed through the snug gray briefs Bruce still wore, and Dick shook his head. "You're overdressed."

"I could get arrested."

"You want me to call Bullock to run you in?" Dick asked, as he tugged at the briefs.

"Don't even *joke* about that," Bruce said, shuddering.

"He'd have you dead to rights for carrying a concealed weapon," Dick chuckled, and freed
Bruce's hardened cock from its confines. The dark red, fully erect organ bobbed up and slapped against his stomach, and Dick's mouth watered. "Oh, yes," he said, and bent his head to kiss Bruce's 'weapon'. "Where have you been all my life?"

"Three doors down the hall," Bruce groaned, trying not to buck his lover free, hands digging into the mattress they lay on.

"Not *you*," Dick said, giving a tug on Bruce's cock. "*This*."

Bruce looked down at him. "We're very close."

"You should have introduced me sooner."

"I didn't think - *ahhh* - " Bruce's thoughts, words, and mind were lost in a sharp explosion of
desire as Dick went down on him, edging his mouth inch by inch as far as he could over the
velvety-smooth skin of his cock, and then pulled back to reveal a glistening, slick erection.

"Thinking is bad," Dick agreed, and then slid, full-length, up Bruce's body and just to the side,
so that they lay face-to-face. "This okay?"

"Mmm. Better."

Dick threw a leg over Bruce's thigh and pulled him close. He took one of Bruce's hands and wrapped it around his own cock, and was pleased when Bruce fell easily into the rhythm, matching him stroke for stroke. The warm, callused hand felt incredible on his over-sensitized skin, and he kissed Bruce again, pouring his own moans into his lover's mouth.

They masturbated each other lazily, easing off the pressure when they felt the tension that signalled the end was near, wanting to prolong it as much as they could. Twice they managed to hold back, but that was the limit for both of them. Dick finally let go of Bruce's cock altogether and wrapped his entire body around the other man, legs twined around his waist, rubbing his body and mouth and cock into Bruce's skin.

The orgasm, when it came, was full-body; Dick spasmed from his eyelids to his toes, and his cock erupted, spraying white come over Bruce's muscled torso and chest. Bruce came seconds later, and they were glued together with the sticky evidence of their pleasure. Dick went from unrelenting tension to complete bonelessness in the space of a second, and was utterly incapable of any movement; he fairly purred with pleasure when he felt Bruce's tongue lick over his body, cleaning him up. It was teasing and arousing and almost too much for his aching, tingling skin, but he didn't make a sound or a move to stop it until Bruce finished and curled around him. Dick rested his head in the hollow between Bruce's neck and shoulder and fell into an exhausted sleep.

**********

The fire was just glowing embers when Dick opened his eyes again. They adjusted slowly to the
darkened room, and he found Bruce looking at him, humorously. "What?"

"You talk in your sleep."

"Oh, god," Dick groaned. "What did I say?"

"Nothing bad. I believe you were just reliving the experience of last night. I think I caught my
name, spoken with a certain ecstasy, a couple of times."

"Okay. As long as I didn't sing or do funny voices."

"Have you done that in the past?"

Dick flushed uncomfortably. "Well, according to my roommate, I do a mean Riddler."

"What?" Bruce asked, mystified.

"On the nights when Robin is called out, sometimes it's a little hard to shake off right away, and
apparently it shows up in my dreams. My roommate doesn't suspect anything," he added, quickly, "he just thinks I have an over-active imagination."

"I think I agree with him."

"Funny. Just be happy I don't snore." Dick snuggled up comfortably next to Bruce. "Add
'mimicry' to my list of special skills, along with athletics and a mastery of the game of Scrabble."

"You seem to forget that *I* won last night's game," Bruce said.

"No, I just - " Dick stopped himself, looked at Bruce, and then got out of the bed and strode over to the table where the game board was still set up. He switched on the table lamp and leaned over the board, naked. "Well, I'll be - "

"What?"

"C'mere."

Bruce stared at him for a moment, and then got out of bed, too, and walked to where Dick was
standing. "What is it?"

"There," Dick said, pointing to the word Bruce's letters spelled out. "You *didn't* win."

"What?"

"You spelled it wrong! It has a 'y', not an 'i' in it," Dick groaned, "and I didn't even *notice*."

Bruce grinned. "Neither did I." He grabbed Dick into a tight hug. "Lucky thing for me that you're such a gracious loser, eh?"

"Yeah," Dick grumbled. "I'm even *more* gracious when I don't lose."

"If last night was any indication, I'd like to see that sometime."

"Yes, you would. How about a re-match?" Dick asked, swiping the tiles off the board.

"Dick - "

"Double or nothing?"

"No. It's three in the morning, and we're *already* naked. Strip Scrabble will just have to
wait." To Dick's surprise, Bruce picked him up, slung him over one shoulder and carried him back to the bed.

"Bruce - your knee - "

"Is fine," Bruce said, as he threw Dick on his back on the bed. "I would be happy to demonstrate." He started to kiss Dick again, hungrily.

"How are you going to use your - ooohhhh - "

The End
MonaR.