When Bruce finds Alex standing in the Batcave, staring at the Batsuit, his first thoughts are that he’s never felt such complete and utter despair in a long time. He’s been keeping this secret for so long and so well, his anger comes more from shock than anything else. He knew better than to take Alex back the manor after he saved him from the thugs, and yet some perverse instinct had lead him astray.
“Nice car,” Alex says simply and Bruce shakes his head. He can’t kill him, but he doesn’t trust him.
“You’re angry,” Alex says.
Bruce snorts. “Oh yes.”
Alex lounges back on the hood of the tumbler, long legs spread apart in obscene invitation. He looks like a very expensive slut. He eyes Bruce, face expressionless and tells him, “I’ve jerked off thinking about you.”
“I’m currently wondering how I’m going to dispose of you and you think that’s appropriate?” Bruce asks, incredulous.
Alex grins, resting back on his elbows. “Good time to be honest, I thought.” He’s wearing one of Bruce’s cashmere sweaters and it hangs loose in the shoulders, but ends several inches above his waistband, showcasing a tanned strip of skin. Bruce flexes his hands and breathes deep. He wants to punch something. Preferably Alex. In the head.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“No,” Bruce replies shortly. He yanks Alex by his knee, dragging him down the Tumbler until he’s flush between his thighs. “You cannot.” He bends down, placing his palm down hard on the car next to Alex’s head. Alex turns his head to look at it, eyes expressionless, and Bruce guides his chin back with a forceful hand. Alex stares up at him unblinking and he bites at Alex’s lower lip. Alex jerks against him and Bruce notes that he didn’t break the skin. He soothes the abused flesh with a swipe of his tongue, reveling Alex’s forever grinning lips flood with blood and swell under his touch.
“I knew you liked me,” Alex breathes when Bruce pulls up, never losing his dignity even as tugs his head back to expose his throat.
“I knew you liked it rough,” Bruce shoots back, reaching between them to tear Alex’s zipper apart. He jams his hand inside, fisting Alex’s hardened cock and chuckling as Alex’s mouth opens on a soundless moan.
Alex’s swan neck, the muscle that runs up into his jaw, has been taunting Bruce and he nips it, feels his throat work as he sucks dark bruises into Alex’s skin. Alex moans, hand fisted tight in Bruce’s hair. “When was the last time you got laid?” he asks, voice roughened. When Bruce tightens a knuckle under the head of his dick, he clamps his legs tight around Bruce’s hips.
Bruce doesn’t answer. He covers Alex’s mouth with another kiss to shut him up and continues to work him with his hand. Alex likes it when Bruce presses his thumb into the slit, he likes it when Bruce sucks on his tongue before biting at him again. When Bruce pulls away again to stare down at him, he curses, hips bucking up into Bruce’s grip. He shudders when he comes, one arm over his eyes as his mouth opens and closes. Bruce watches the entire thing, fascinated, mouth still wet from Alex’s spit.
When it’s over, the last aftershocks still making Alex tremble, Bruce extricates himself, wipes his hand off with a spare rag. When he looks back at Alex, he’s zipping himself up. Bruce swallows, as far as countermoves go, messing around with Alex on top of the Tumbler is pretty weak. Alex smirks at him, fingers at his buttons. “Should I not bother? I could go again.”
“Jesus, be quiet,” Bruce says, irritated by his lack of options.
Alex comes up behind him and runs his lips in a line just behind Bruce’s ear. “I won’t tell anyone if you let me fuck you.”
“And then what?” Bruce asks, leaning into the touch.
He hears Alex’s grin in his words. “We can play cops and robbers.”
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Date: 2009-11-13 01:24 am (UTC)“Nice car,” Alex says simply and Bruce shakes his head. He can’t kill him, but he doesn’t trust him.
“You’re angry,” Alex says.
Bruce snorts. “Oh yes.”
Alex lounges back on the hood of the tumbler, long legs spread apart in obscene invitation. He looks like a very expensive slut. He eyes Bruce, face expressionless and tells him, “I’ve jerked off thinking about you.”
“I’m currently wondering how I’m going to dispose of you and you think that’s appropriate?” Bruce asks, incredulous.
Alex grins, resting back on his elbows. “Good time to be honest, I thought.” He’s wearing one of Bruce’s cashmere sweaters and it hangs loose in the shoulders, but ends several inches above his waistband, showcasing a tanned strip of skin. Bruce flexes his hands and breathes deep. He wants to punch something. Preferably Alex. In the head.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“No,” Bruce replies shortly. He yanks Alex by his knee, dragging him down the Tumbler until he’s flush between his thighs. “You cannot.” He bends down, placing his palm down hard on the car next to Alex’s head. Alex turns his head to look at it, eyes expressionless, and Bruce guides his chin back with a forceful hand. Alex stares up at him unblinking and he bites at Alex’s lower lip. Alex jerks against him and Bruce notes that he didn’t break the skin. He soothes the abused flesh with a swipe of his tongue, reveling Alex’s forever grinning lips flood with blood and swell under his touch.
“I knew you liked me,” Alex breathes when Bruce pulls up, never losing his dignity even as tugs his head back to expose his throat.
“I knew you liked it rough,” Bruce shoots back, reaching between them to tear Alex’s zipper apart. He jams his hand inside, fisting Alex’s hardened cock and chuckling as Alex’s mouth opens on a soundless moan.
Alex’s swan neck, the muscle that runs up into his jaw, has been taunting Bruce and he nips it, feels his throat work as he sucks dark bruises into Alex’s skin. Alex moans, hand fisted tight in Bruce’s hair. “When was the last time you got laid?” he asks, voice roughened. When Bruce tightens a knuckle under the head of his dick, he clamps his legs tight around Bruce’s hips.
Bruce doesn’t answer. He covers Alex’s mouth with another kiss to shut him up and continues to work him with his hand. Alex likes it when Bruce presses his thumb into the slit, he likes it when Bruce sucks on his tongue before biting at him again. When Bruce pulls away again to stare down at him, he curses, hips bucking up into Bruce’s grip. He shudders when he comes, one arm over his eyes as his mouth opens and closes. Bruce watches the entire thing, fascinated, mouth still wet from Alex’s spit.
When it’s over, the last aftershocks still making Alex tremble, Bruce extricates himself, wipes his hand off with a spare rag. When he looks back at Alex, he’s zipping himself up. Bruce swallows, as far as countermoves go, messing around with Alex on top of the Tumbler is pretty weak. Alex smirks at him, fingers at his buttons. “Should I not bother? I could go again.”
“Jesus, be quiet,” Bruce says, irritated by his lack of options.
Alex comes up behind him and runs his lips in a line just behind Bruce’s ear. “I won’t tell anyone if you let me fuck you.”
“And then what?” Bruce asks, leaning into the touch.
He hears Alex’s grin in his words. “We can play cops and robbers.”