Starve a Fever
All characters belong to Christopher Nolan, Warner Bros and DC Comics
I don't own any of these characters.
This wasn't entirely how Bruce Wayne wanted to set about his morning, rousing up and feeling useless and pathetic. He felt the edges of his lips falter into a thin line and began to brood.
He glanced over at the woman lying next to him, curled under thin layers of rags that covered her waist as she slept peacefully and beautifully in the passion of their bed.
Bruce rested his flushed cheek on his crooked arm, sweat rolled over the bends of his expression as he flashed his eyes against the warmth of the Florence sun. He settled his throbbing gaze on her still red lips, auburn ringlets fanned across the cranberry pillowcase. Her cheek pressed against the folded pillow, curls fell gracefully across her freckled shoulders. When Selina opened her dark caramel eyes, sunlight captured in the shadowy depth.
He listened to a soft and content breath escape from her lips as she fully awoke from a dreamless sleep, and he became entrapped in the moment, looking out her lips twitch a quite and compressed yawn before he swept off some locks off her face as his delicate wake of his touch made her blink the sleepiness out of her eyes.
Selina smiled, with softness welled inside her eyes.
The fever was getting worse.
Chills, achy and churning stomach.
It was really the worse way to wake up in humid temperatures.
Gazing into the eyes of his equal partner, being a slave to her desires, unwilling to separate from her embrace - every time her lips curled into a voluminous youthful smile. When he gazed at the glimmers of light in her eyes, and he felt even more feverish - slain by the depth he saw at that place. He became trapped.
Every, single time.
"I'm thinking you didn't sleep easily," she muttered with a sleep gazed voice, and appeared at the pallid complexion of his clammy skin and the dark circles under his eyes, sheet of perspiration along his broad forehead making loose strands of chestnut curl over his bass- set brow. " Feeling okay, handsome?"
He twisted his head involuntarily away from her, naming her a fake response, "I'm fine."
She shook her head, and gave him a piercing look. "Bruce," she said, seeing right through his lie. " Stop being a stubborn ass. I know you're lying to me."
Bruce parted his pursed lips and rubbed his eyes. A habit of his when he dealt with stress. "I know how to handle my body, Lina." he refused to meet her stare. "Quit worrying about me. I'm just a little run down. No big deal."
Selina stiffened her jaw. "If you want to suffer. Than good right ahead, rich boy. I'm not playing nurse for you. Not this time."
"You sound exactly like Alfred," he muttered, dropping his head backwards into the pillow. "I don't need any sympathy, Selina."
"Well, you're not going to get any, Bruce." she answered, raising herself off the mattress, turning her back to him. I'm going to the riverfront market and grabbing a few things. While I'm gone, I want you to get some rest and sweat it out." she ordered with firmness in her voice. "After taking a hot shower."
He nodded weakly, brushing his fingers over his lips. "So you do care about me?" he arched his eyebrows, giving her a particle look with an amusing grin playing on his face when he listened to her frustrated breath.
"That fever must be really getting to you," she deduced. She looked over her shoulder with lips pulling a savage smirk, "Too bad Alfred is in England on holiday."
"Is this your way of making me feel better, Selina?" he answered with a gruff voice. " It's not helping."
She curved her lips into a grin, with a devilish sparkle in her eyes. "Well, it's making me feel better."
He flashed her a penetrating glare of hazel. "Just go do your shopping and leave me to sweat."
"I'll find out if I can get you some chicken noodle soup," she replied, stretched an arm against the blankets and grazing his bicep. "Anything else for the poor baby?"
Bruce put his jaw hard, cradling his whirling stomach with his sleeve, "Ginger soda. I don't care if it's cheap. Just get me some."
She laughed. "Ginger soda?"
"Yeah, " he growled back. " It helps with the effects of vomiting. Apple juice and maybe if you can find them some popsicles."
"Anything else on your growing list," she offered, looking into his watery hazel eyes.
He rocked his head slightly.
"No, those are things I want," he released a mysterious breath, feeling his heart ache in his breast as the retention of his mother dressed in a pink cashmere bathrobe sitting by his bedside played in his head.
Selina narrowed her brown eyes, watching a sullen expression cast over his cut-stone lifted his hand, and brushed her lips over his cold knuckles, looking into his eyes and articulated, "I'll find out what I can find."
He hesitated as he looked at her, caressing his hand on her cheek with thoughts of his childhood before his parents were engaged by the gun of Joe Chill. "Selina, I just..." He paused in his words, searching in her brown eyes. "Just be careful and stay sharp when you're in the market."
"Don't worry, I know how to handle my surroundings." she answered with an assured tone, eyes appearing in his face for a second. "Your skin is starting to look like vanilla pudding."
He closed his eyes. She lowered herself over the sheets and touched her lips to his face, feeling the fever on her lip before she stated softly. "It's getting worse. You need to fight it, Bruce." she insisted, clenching her jaw. "Now."
He put his trembling hands on either side of her face and kissed her brow. Her mahogany hair like curtains over the shiny skin of his breast, and he looked into her eyes, less cold and calculating, and then wrapped his arms round her. She rubbed her palm of her hands flat over his muscles. He was a beautiful sweaty mess against her body.
He smiled, upper lip curved to let on his jagged canines as he stated, "Careful, Selina Kyle. It might be contagious."
"I'll take the risk," she purred, kissing hotly along his jaw.
Selina straightened on her knees and looked downwards at the hard sheen of perspiration, which caused his skin shine in the sun. His eyes were slowly closing as the fever started to assume its entire force of his body. She smirked and dropped a light kiss on his forehead, "I'll be back before long, handsome."
Later on, after an hour of sweating out the fever, Bruce stood in the center of the shower stall, inhaling the steam around him. He leaned his head backwards against the scalding water, and have the hot droplets raining over his weaken form to ride the chills out of him.
He shut his eyes, allowing the water to soak through his greasy hair, making his pounding headache ease. He split up his lips, smacking the water seep down his rough throat. He coughed and clenched his jaw, as a spasm rippled in his belly. No," he growled in the steam, "I will not have this sickness." he slammed his palm against the rampart. "I will overcome this."
He felt his body disappear into the steam, the chills were giving him the shakes, he paced backward into the cascade of water, and slanted his head backward, allowing the beads to beat on his throat, not listening to the glass door slide open as water dribbled over his lips.
He inhaled heavy intakes of steam, trying to cause the fever break.
"How are you feeling?" her gentle voice, woke him from the clouds of thought. He blinked his eyes open, and stared at Selina standing inches apart from him, unclothed and dangerous beautiful. "I got anything you asked and added a few more things."
"That's surprising," Bruce responded, he shut his eyes and attempted to ease control of his nausea symptoms that curled within him. He pressed his hand along his stomach and massaged the tension down slowly.
How long have you been in there?" she wondered, watching him tilt his head back as water sloshed over his sharp features. "Bruce, are you even listening to me?"
"I am not going anywhere until this fever breaks, Selina." he grumbled, lifting is arms and rubbing his hands through the strands of his temples. She smiled ruefully, and pulled herself closer to him."I'm trying to the rid the chills."
Bruce fluttered his eyes against the gushing water, feeling the press of her torso against his flesh and he calmly looked into her eyes. His arm slipped around her curves, and he took her to his torso, taking a breather in the fragrance wafting from her drenched hair. He tucked her under his strong chin and hands stroked the tangled locks, smoothing the down her spinal column.
"This isn't the best method to rid a fever," she said, pressing against the sleek muscle of his chest. She enveloped her arms tightened round him, fingers dug in the airplanes of his scarred back, and then she raised her head, running into his feverish hazel eyes. "This is..." She cut through his lips with a mild and wet kiss against the saturation of the water.
The compression of their lips created a spectacular effect and pulsing sensation ripping their bodies. They embraced heavily in the water, and kissed deeply, feeling the drops of water pour on their face and trickle over their mouths.
Selina broke away slowly, her lips linger warmth brushed over his skin, as he pushed his forehead against hers, feeling the water glide down the razor-edges of his jaw and neck. He curved his fingers under her chin, moving up her face from his mouth to capture her mouth once more, and this time he deepened with hunger, entwining his tongue with hers, drawing her hands grip the strands on his neck.
When his lips went away from her lip, he trailed suckling kisses down the side of her neck, across her throat, and his hands made their descent over her back.
She tightened around him, engaged in his secured embrace as her chest pressed harder against the flex of his chiseled torso. . "Hmm," she hummed, satisfaction laced in her veins, her fingers traced over his jaw. "Feed a cold and starve a fever."
"You're making me heat up even more, Selina," he snorted a breath on her pulse point.
"I know," she answered, grinning slyly with dark eyes.
Bruce coughed again, holding his throat. " I'll admit you're making me feel better."
She smiled weakly, "Still miss Alfred?"
"Not really," Bruce said smugly, he brought his face to hers, opened his mouth and brushed a hard kiss on her lips.
She kissed him equal suction, pushing his hair backward and out of his eyes, the stream layered over them as their lips melted into fierce passion.
As the evening hour approached, Selina curled against the shock absorbers of the sofa, her lithe frame covered in one of his pullover and legs bare, on her trim waist was a plastic bowl of peeled slices of oranges.
Bruce was flat along the seat cushions, he was clothed in a server black T- shirt and sweat pants. His head rested on her stomach as he was content against the soothing brushes off her finger taking the chills away. Gradually Bruce opened his eyes to the glimmers of moonlight streaming from the balcony door's windows.
He blinked slowly and faced upwards into her eyes, with a gentle expression on his pale face. " This feels like the effects of Crane's fear toxin," he paused, wincing. "Except it makes me miserable as hell," He pulled a scowl on his brow, indents engraved on his forehead. Selina threaded her fingers through his bangs hanging over his eyes.
"It will lighten up it bit, trust me." she purred, looking downwards into his watery hazel eyes. She gave him a slice of a naval orange. "Here bite on this." she said, smiling as he gave her a look.
Bruce got the fruit from her hands, and pressed cold on his lips. He chewed into the orange, relishing the taste down his sore throat. He licked the drops of juice off the corners of his mouth and savored the sweetness and coldness dripping over his tongue.
She bit softly into the fruit, spraying the juice as the cold fruit touched her bottom lip, and then she wiped the juice off her chin. "Ugh, I forgot how messy these damn things are..."
He chuckled out a hollow breath, "Yeah, that's why I prefer the juice."
Narrowing her eyes slightly down, Selina watched him get another morsel. He caught her as she stared after him, the juice glazed over his lips making them shine in the dim light as he shut his eyes, sensing the liquid soothe and moisten the walls of his throbbing throat.
"You look flushed," he grinned, looking out her cheeks turn a shade of pink wine. "Don't tell me you're getting a fever."
"A different sort of fever," she grinned, twisting her mind down, lingering over his face as she kissed him.
The sour and fresh taste of the orange laced in their mouths, as their mouths pressed hotly, and her hands gripped each side of his face as their bodies became drenched with feverish passion.
For the first time since awakening up to the flu, Bruce finally felt the cold leave his body as heat from hers melted all his symptoms away, only the moment lasts but for a minute, Bruce felt her tremble against him, and he whispered in her, "You never listen, Selina, I warned you about sticking close to me when I'm sick."
He stared at her ghost-pale skin with hardened dark eyes, and he breathed out a deep exhale. "Now, we really need, Alfred."
"I think we're both suckers," she said huskily, and swept his lips with a heated kiss.