UN-Sex Challenge

by Chicago

Disclaimer: Characters belong to DC Comics, borrowed for fun and not for profit. Written for Darklady's "un-sex" challenge.

Pairing: Bruce/J'onn, Dick/Garth

Rating: PG

Bruce Wayne stood in the observers' gallery of the UN building, translation headphones over his ears. His arm was around Lavender Larkspur, who leaned forward to people watch the proceedings.

Beneath them, a delegate from somewhere in Scandinavia rose to address the continued failure of the US to ratify the Kyoto treaty. Bruce listened with interest. His own factories were all already in compliance with the terms of the treaty, and the potential market for WayneTech retrofitting innovations would hinge on the American decision. "...sorely disappointed," the delegate was declaiming. "Indeed, the legendary CANNON of the verdant viscount of veracity... has gone limp."

Bruce's eyes widened, and he heard a stifled giggle from Lavender. He pushed the headphones down. "Please tell me that that was just an abominable translation."

Lavender tiptoed to kiss his nose. "Well, I'm sure your mind really twisted it, but no what he actually said wasn't nearly so sexual sounding. More like a moment of mourning for the failure of the environmental movement in this country to rally under the new administration."

Bruce nodded. "Well, that's a relief. Although now that my mind is there-" He leaned down to taste pale pink lips, cinching Lavender's slim waist more tightly to him.

"Hey, no smooching up here folks. Get a room."

Bruce raised his face and glared darkly at the intruding uniform - then recognized the grinning face under the BPD issue hat. "Dick, what are you doing here?"

Dick gave Lavender a quick hug. "Good to see you, Lavender," he greeted. Then he stepped to the window and gestured to the floor below. "Garth's giving a bit of speech today. Unless I already missed it?"

Bruce shook his head. "They just started the whole Kyoto discussion about 45 minutes ago. And aren't you a little out of jurisdiction to be in uniform?"

"Bruce," Lavender reprimanded gently, settling her arm comfortably about her waist.

Dick seemed less perturbed. "Didn't have time to change," he said absently, his eyes scanning the floor. "I've been trying to get here since this session started and things have been just crazy..."

Lavender turned wide green eyes to Dick. "But session started over a month ago! You mean you haven't seen Garth in-"

"Not a once last month," Dick confirmed. "Nothin'. It was just me - Blockbuster - and a half gallon of ice cream."

"Blockbuster's active again?" Bruce asked with casual interest, his gaze joining Dick's in scanning the UN floor.

"I've got nothing solid to confirm that, but given what I found in the ice cream?"

Bruce winced internally, knowing now was not the time to ask and it would be difficult to keep the conversation cryptic enough to get details in such a public setting. "You need any extra hands?"

"Bruce," Lavender said again, this time more warningly.

Dick glanced over at the couple. 'It's okay, Lavender. He's like that. I'm used to it." There was applause as the delegate from Mauritius sat down, and Dick returned his attention to the floor. "There he is."

Bruce watched as Garth of Shayeris rose and began to speak. Dick's face was rapt, an expression of true devotion as he watched his lover speak.

In his mind, J'onn's voice interrupted his thoughts. You can't get closer to them if you keep pushing yourself at them, he reminded gently.

Bruce mentally sighed as he pulled J'onn's - Lavender's - body in front of him and wrapped his arms around her, planting a gentle kiss on her blonde head. I know. I'm too controlling. I'm trying. I am.

I know, J'onn replied, resting Lavender's back against Bruce's chest.

One of these days, I am going to beat this flaw from my body, Bruce vowed.

He was startled he felt Lavender's hand slide up behind her back to gently cup his balls. You want help with that? J'onn projected archly.

Bruce pressed into her hand, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from verbally responding. And you complain about _my_ mind!

Well, your cannon is far from limp. J'onn gave a squeeze of Lavender's fingers, sending more blood surging to Bruce's groin. Out loud, Lavender said, "My, he's really an impressive speaker."

Dick flushed a little, his eyes not leaving Garth. "Yeah," he said. "He really is all that."

Lavender's hand was creeping higher, rubbing over the stiffness now evident in Bruce's trousers. J'onn- Bruce protested, pulling back a little and letting his coat fall closed. "Dick," he began, "I promised Lavender we would do some more sightseeing. How long will you and Garth be in town?"

Dick glanced back at Bruce for a split second, as if gauging the question. "I've got tomorrow off and Tim's watching my place. Why?"

"Maybe we can do dinner tomorrow night? Or lunch?"

Dick considered, and Lavender, a smug grin on her face, announced, "I'm going to go use the ladies. Meet you downstairs?"

"Sure," Bruce agreed, leaning down to accept a kiss with promise in it.

I'll be waiting on the bed for you, J'onn projected, conveying his intention to fly straight to the hotel. For the moment, though, he just sashayed Lavender's hips as she headed for the washroom, successfully keeping Bruce's attention.

"Okay," Dick finally said, bringing Bruce back to the moment. "Lunch. You at your usual hotel?"

"Right next door," Bruce confirmed. "Give my best to Garth."

Dick nodded, still listening to Garth's voice. Bruce smiled a little wistfully. Garth was so good for him.

A gentle nudge to his mind reminded him of the uncomfortable pressure of his zipper against swelling flesh. Bruce, J'onn purred, projecting an image of Lavender's teddy-clad body.

I'll be there before you can blink those ruby reds, Bruce promised, heading toward the escalators briskly.

He felt mental fingers run along every nerve of his body, stroking every synapse with increasing intensity as the touch grew nearer his groin. He stepped onto the escalator, letting his feet rest on two different stairs as it traveled down, mentally reciting box scores and objecting, J'onn!

Mmmm, J'onn projected, sending feather strokes along Bruce's neck. Can you feel me?

J'onn, Bruce protested again, shifting uncomfortably as the escalator neared bottom.

There was a light mental laugh, but the phantom hands withdrew. Fine. No sex in the UN, J'onn allowed. But do hurry.

Bruce shifted himself as casually as he could with one hand and obeyed.