It feels peculiar to be leaving the cave with someone by his side who isn't Alfred. Bruce got used to it being just the two of them again… And that thought is almost painful.

He leads Arthur to the living room, gestures towards the armchairs and walks to the liquor cabinet. He grabs two glasses and a bottle of whiskey and turns around back to the other man, but he finds that Arthur isn't seated yet. He stands by the glass wall with the view of the lake. He's is almost a silhouette against the moonlight and Bruce stops for a moment and simply looks. His eyes are once again drawn to the dark blue sweater. Bruce recalls that it was just the right size on him but when Arthur wears it, it's a bit tight, hugging all of his muscles perfectly, as if it were a second skin. Bruce can't help it but remember what Arthur's body looks like under that sweater. He comes back to this memory more often than he would like to...

Bruce would never admit it to anyone - he hardly admits it to himself - but he blames the unsuccessfulness of his first visit to the Atlantean on how distracted he was. He was stunned by Arthur, seeing him in person, his beauty and the aura of danger, these inhuman blue eyes… He blabbed like an idiot. Then Arthur started casually undressing right there in front of him and, well, the whole conversation was a disaster. It's been a long time since anyone affected him this way.

Now, Bruce huffs silently at himself and finally walks to the coffee table to put the glasses there.

"Such a nice place and I bet you mostly sit in that cave, huh?" Arthur comments when Bruce starts pouring them alcohol.

"At least the guests can appreciate it," Bruce replies as he takes one of the glasses and sits down. Arthur reaches for the other and finally takes a seat in one of the armchairs. He downs half the glass and sighs.

"Yeah, I needed that," he says. "To get out, punch something, and get a drink."

"Things not going well in Atlantis?" Bruce queries, actually curious. Atlanteans, Amazons - whole nations which developed outside of the rest of the world. He was fascinated when he first learned about their existence and he still is.

"I'm new to Atlantis," Arthur says and Bruce hears a little bit of bitterness in his voice. "I know I'm one of them but I'm still an outsider. I grew up in a lighthouse with a regular human father… I'm no royalty but I'm expected to be a king." He drinks the rest of the whiskey and pours himself another glass.

"If this is any consolation to you, you will most definitely be a better leader than me," Bruce points out and Arthur snorts.

"Don't be that hard on yourself. You were an asshole most of the time, yeah, but you did bring us together in the end. And we won."

"You only came because of Steppenwolf messing with your people," Bruce retorts with an eyebrow raised in a challenge.

"Maybe, but I'm glad I did," Arthur smiles, honestly, and raises his glass in a toast. Bruce can't stop a little smile from spreading on his lips as he reciprocates the gesture. He is glad, too…

They fall into a comfortable silence for a longer moment, both of them simply watching the calm surface of the lake. Then, when Bruce moves to refill his glass, Arthur speaks again.

"You know, after my father died, I went to a bar in the port to get drunk. I spent most of my evening sitting by the aquarium and talking at a lobster they kept in there. When someone actually ordered the little guy and the cook tried to take it to the kitchen, I ended up fighting for it," Arthur snorts at himself, stirs the whiskey in his glass and finally looks at Bruce. "I feel like spending the evening here is somewhat of an upgrade," he grins.

Bruce can't help a grin of his own when he tips his head to the side a little and says: "So you do talk to fish."

Arthur bursts out laughing and Bruce feels it pleasantly reverberate in his chest.

ж

Arthur is surprised but also pleased when he receives an invitation to take part in another training - this time directly from Bruce. He really enjoyed his last visit and, since then, he found himself looking for excuses to come back. He's glad the opportunity came to him.

He's the last one to arrive this time, it was quite hard to get out of Atlantis even for a moment this evening, and he finds Bruce and Barry already sparring on the mat in the training area of the cave. Bruce gives him a nod in greeting and Barry says "hi" and smiles - before Bat slaps him warningly on the ear and points out that he can't get distracted in the middle of the fight. Arthur snorts and sits down on the floor next to the mats to wait for the part when his participation - or rather his Atlantean strength - will be required.

Bruce is wearing only a dark tank top and sweatpants and Arthur discovers he's really in favour of Bat's choice of clothing today. He can finally observe the movement of these hard earned muscles without the cover of armor or expensive clothes.

Arthur finds himself occupied with spotting the scars covering Bruce's skin, wondering how they came to be. He knows Bruce has been doing this far longer than any of them and maybe it's because of that, his confidence and experience, that it is so easy to forget he's just human. Incredibly trained, fearless, and very well equipped, but a human nonetheless... And definitely a little bit mad.

His inner musings are interrupted when Bruce asks him to join them on the mat, he wants Arthur to play the role of the aggressor against him so that Barry can observe the movement from the side.

"Attack me from the left," Bruce is already giving orders when Arthur is still taking off his shoes. Once he's on the mat, Bruce gestures at him, prodding. For a split second, Arthur has an urge to use his inhuman strength, just to mess with the man, but it swiftly dissipates when his eyes land on the fresh bruises that Bat must have collected last night, starkly visible against the pale skin of this arms. He doesn't want to hurt the man. More than that, he doesn't like the look of any wounds on Bruce, he wants them gone.

Arthur freezes for a moment as Bruce stares at him questioningly, waiting. He knew he was attracted to the other man, that's nothing new. But the protectiveness he's feeling? That's different.

"Here I go, Bat," he covers his own little crisis with a cocky smile before he attacks - using moderate human strength. Bruce blocks it without effort but he gives Arthur an assessing look when their eyes meet. Arthur is just happy he may be an amazing detective but he can't read minds.

After the training, when Barry has left, Bruce offers him a drink again and despite how dangerous getting close to the man is becoming, Arthur accepts.

ж

It somehow becomes a routine. They meet every couple of days to train with Barry or to discuss matters concerning the team with the rest of the group, and Arthur always stays after - to go upstairs and share a drink or two. It develops into that much of a pattern that one day when they leave the cave, they are greeted by a full-fledged dinner and a smug-looking Alfred. Sometimes they discuss the team, sometimes Arthur asks for advice concerning Atlantis ("You're a CEO of a giant company, Bat. I had no one to boss around in a lighthouse. The only people I ever told to do something were assholes in bars that I told to go fuck themselves"). Other times, Arthur tells a story about his father that he was reminded of by something in the conversation, and on occasion, Bruce will recall the shenanigans of Dick and Jason. Bruce never really talked this much about the kids - he didn't have to when they were around and after they weren't, it was just Alfred he ever spoke to about anything more private than Wayne Enterprises or the case he was working on. And it was to painful to talk about them with Alfred. With Arthur, he finds himself opening up. Clark helped him see the light in the world anew, but Arthur makes him feel human again.

ж

Bruce is exhausted. He's been playing cat and mouse with Anarky for weeks now and today was exceptionally awful. The man is playing dangerous games with hostages and it's driving Bruce up the wall. But for now, he just wants to call it a night.

The last thing he expects to find when he exits the cave, sans the suit but somehow feeling even more frustrated and tired than before he took it off, is Arthur. The Atlantean is sitting on one of the armchairs by the glass wall and there's an almost empty bottle of whiskey in his hands. He grins once he spots Bruce but the detective knows him enough to see the unhappiness written all over his person. He also notices that the man has indulged himself enough to actually get drunk. He never did that in Bruce's presence before.

"Arthur," he says as a way of greeting but also posing it as a question.

"I had a really shitty day, I hope you don't mind," Arthur replies, indicating the bottle. "You spoiled me with good whiskey," he points the finger of his free hand at Bruce. "I don't really have the taste for the cheap stuff now."

Bruce sighs and leans against the wall. He's still extremely fatigued but he finds he isn't really angry at Arthur, more at the people who pushed him enough to decide to do this. He was gaining more and more footing in his life as an Atlantean lately, it's vexing to know some steps back have been made in his progress. Bruce rubs his face in exhaustion and hisses when his hand presses on the cut wound on his jaw that he managed to forget about. The fact that he allowed Anarky's lackey to cut him right on the skin not protected by his cowl is the biggest mark of his weariness.

He hears a thunk of a bottle being put on a table and then footsteps. Bruce lifts his head to watch Arthur approach him with a frown on his face. The Atlantean is gazing at the makeshift dressing on his jaw as if it offended him.

"You're hurt again," Arthur says as he stops in front of him. Bruce raises his eyebrow at 'again', almost offended. "I don't like it," he almost slurs that last one.

Bruce is so taken aback by that comment that he doesn't even have a retort to voice. Arthur makes another step forward, shrinking the already small distance between them. There's a question on the tip of Bruce's tongue - "what are you doing?" - but he doesn't ask it… Because, he does know. He sees the intensity in Arthur's eyes. And he doesn't stop him. He doesn't stop Arthur as he leans in and presses their lips together.

For a moment, Bruce allows himself to tune out the world around them and just feel. The surprisingly soft lips on his, the contrasting sensation of Arthur's beard scratching his skin, the frantic beating of his heart…

Arthur hums in approval as Bruce reciprocates the kiss. When Bruce's hands land on the other man's hips and squeeze, Arthur deepens the kiss, his tongue daring to touch and lick and explore. One of Atlantean's hands moves to Bruce's neck and he feels his skin tingling pleasantly from the contact, and he wants more. He can taste the whiskey on Arthur's tongue now and… this is when he freezes and withdraws his lips and his hands.

Once Arthur realizes what Bruce did, he makes a step back. The light blue eyes look at him in confusion, asking and almost hurt.

Bruce has to physically restrain himself from kissing that frown off of Arthur's face. He wants this, he wanted this for some time now. But it's not worth it to have Arthur tonight if that would make Bruce that guy who was conveniently around during a bad day. Besides, he doesn't do drunk as a rule.

Arthur is still waiting, hopeful but not imposing. Bruce allows himself a split second of reconsideration but he knows it's not going to happen. Not tonight. Not like this.

"Good night, Arthur," Bruce says without looking the Atlantean in the eyes and leaves.