Neither man spoke now. There was much they could have said, under the circumstances, things like...
*"I want you,"
*"I've been dreaming of this moment ever since we met,"
*"I love you," and
*"oh god oh god oh god."
And it wouldn't mattered which one said them out loud, because they were both thinking the same things--not in the same order, not with the same intensity, not with identical meaning--but it didn't matter. All that mattered now was this kiss, the feeling of one man's lips pressed against another's. It was gentle and yet still strong, it was warm and moist and it felt so damn good they didn't stop. They had no costumes to hide behind: they were not Batman and Robin, they were not Bruce and Dick, they were not Objects X and Y. They were simply two men alone together in the universe.
Bruce wrapped his arms around Dick's chest and held him while they kissed. He closed his eyes and opened them again and still the kiss continued. He squeezed Dick tightly and looked into his eyes once more, and the two of them found themselves lying down in the bed facing each other, their members beginning to stiffen.
It felt good, Bruce thought to himself, to be in this very spot at last. He felt the way he had when he'd first unmasked himself in front of his future partner: open, vulnerable, aware of his own fear but not immobilized by it. And, finally, deeply relaxed.
The memory of that earlier moment was far, far away--he hadn't thought of it for months, maybe longer, and suddenly here it was again. He reached over, grasped Dick's cock in his hand and held it, just held it, not letting go no matter what. But there was no resistance on Dick's part. Not in this single passionate moment. The two of them just gazed at each other and kissed and fondled each other's genitals and felt each other's strong arms and chests and ...
... and then Dick froze. No motion, no expression. He sat up in bed, shook his head, walked over to the closet, grabbed the first available clothes, and left the room.