Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations the characters find themselves in. Thanks so much for continuing to read and for giving me feedback on my work. It's muchly appreciated and I do read every review you send me!

Note: So, so sorry for the lack of updates recently, Everyone. Work has been soul sucking and I was too tired and depressed by it to write anything I would want to read. So I held off, and hope now to do much better in the future.

Also, this is dedicated to Perlz, thank you so much for taking the time to review as much as you did. It absolutely made my week. Thanks.

Make Me Think of You

Blake had never been a materialistic person. Sorta hard not to be, when you grew up with nothing. Where every move to a new foster house meant your clothes and what few things were 'yours' got stuffed into garbage bags like they, and you, were garbage to be tossed to the curb. Things also often went missing in transit or ended up being stolen or broken by someone living in your new place, so yeah, a smart kid learned quickly not to get to attached to anything, much less anyone while in the system. Blake didn't think he was flattering himself too much by saying that he'd learned that lesson quicker than most.

There was very little in his apartment, if it was still even 'his', that Blake couldn't replace if he ever got back to Gotham City. He could count on one hand the items he would mourn the loss of and even then, he'd never admit that they'd meant that much to him. But seriously...he didn't even have anything from his time with his birth parents beside four photographs, and he had copies in a safe deposit box.

And even if he lost them...he'd been conditioned not to care. Not to attach too much emotion or feelings to any object. Or person.

None of his previous lovers had ever forked over the type of money these kinds of necklaces and chokers would cost, Blake thought as he stared down at the choker Bane had singled out as his favorite. No one had seen him as the jewelry type. Or he just wasn't someone you bought jewelry for. Spent that kind of money on.

So I'm not materialistic, and I don't actually give a flying fuck about bling, so why does this make me want to bawl my goddamn eyes out like a little kid, Blake asked himself as he continue to hide from Bane's gaze, pretending to look at the choker when really it was just a friggin blur at this point.

"Would you like to try it on?"

Honestly, Blake had no idea. But he didn't know what else to say or do, so he nodded.

From his pocket Bane withdrew the key-because of course he had it on him-and Blake turned around and angled his head to make it easier for Bane to remove the symbol of enslavement he'd worn around his neck since being placed in Bane's 'care'.

It was so anticlimactic was Blake's almost hysterical thought moments later as the key clicked in the lock and Bane's rough, callused fingers grasped the metal collar. Somehow, obviously Blake couldn't see with his back turned, Bane was managing to juggle the key and remove the collar, and just like that Blake was free of it.

Of that one, anyway.

Shutting the choker's case with a snap Blake took a moment, needed a moment, to lift one hand up to place it protectively around his bare neck. To just hold it there and feel his naked skin.

But just for minute, Blake thought darkly, eyes closed to block everything else out. In a minute or less Bane would be telling him to put on his new collar or trying to do it himself, which would be completely hilarious under better circumstances because...because the hook was so small and delicate. So small Bane probably wouldn't know how to manage it.

Eyes opening in a flash Blake opened up the jewelry box again to stare at it for several heartbeats, then rapidly looked over the others he had to choose from.

They ALL had normal jewelry clasps. Or at least ones that would in no way be a struggle for him to put on...and take off. Every single piece was like that, and on top of that five of them he could probably break the chains with his bare hands without even using all his strength. Probably. Some of those skinny chain thingies were probably sold gold or whatever, but they were still pretty thin and if he really wanted them off...

"Robin?"

In one corner of his brain Blake did hear his name being spoken, but he didn't respond. His mind was on much more important things. Like the fact that not only were these new 'collars' not shackles around his neck...he hadn't been given these as a reward or a bribe. Well maybe a bit of a 'like me more' bribe, but he wasn't being required to do anything to get them. And they weren't a 'thanks for still being fertile' gift either. They didn't have the final results back for that.

Bane's finger brushed over his cheek, alerting him to the fact that fuck, he was tearing up, God damn it.

"What is it?"

He didn't know...and then he did. And God. God.

Throat thick with tears as more of the damn things slid down his cheeks, Blake let the jewelry case fall to the ground and took the step forward needed to press his body against Bane's, burying his face against Bane's neck as his arms wrapped as far as they could around Bane's waist.

Bane's arms came around him in turn, a comfort he sorely needed at the moment as he was swamped by emotions and the reality of them. The horrible truth of it all.

It was a good seven, eight minutes before he even remotely had himself under control, and even then Blake continued to cling. Couldn't stop.

"Sorry." Blake finally got out, croaking the single word.

"I don't understand what I did wrong. They displeased you that much?"

"No. No, that's not it. You didn't...FUCK." Blake groaned.

"What can I do?"

The laughter that escaped Blake's lips in response to that was so harsh and bitter that Blake flinched right along with Bane at the sound of it.

"What can you do. Oh boy. That's the kicker, Babe. Right to the goddamn gut and heart." A deep breath, meant to stabilize his voice as Blake spoke to Bane's throat, unable to meet the other man's gaze. "We're so fucked, aren't we."

"Explain."

Of course he had to explain, fuck his life.

"You and me, we've spent all our adult lives and most of our so-called childhoods wanting this. Wanting someone to want us. To pick us over all the other people out there. To buy us silly gifts and hold us when we're crying, take us to fucking Paris because that's what people stupid in love do. You're hot and built and smart and don't put up with my bullshit. My dark side doesn't scare you and...and I looked at you just now and I realized that you could have been it. The One they say is out there for everyone, even though statistically that's just-it's not fair! It's so goddamn, fucking unfair that I can see how we could be happy but we won't. No matter how hard we try we're never going to be allowed to be happy and it's not fucking fair!"

One of Bane's hands came up to cup the back of Blake's head. "I want to make you happy."

"I know. We want to be happy...but it's not up to us, is it? When has Fate ever given a shit about what we wanted?" Fuck their lives, seriously. "And don't say we can change things-because we can't. Even if you ruled this whole goddamn world you couldn't, because I'd know the cost of that and be miserable over the blood on both our hands. And I could kill Talia, and that would eliminate so many problems...but you'd never forgive me. Ever. You can't walk away from her...and I have to walk away from you or die. And I don't want to do either of those things. I...I want to stay right here. Like this."

In case what he meant wasn't clear, Blake squeezed Bane's waist for emphasis.

"Then stay."

Sighing, Blake closed his eyes for a moment and then dropped his hands, stepping back to put a little space between them. Or trying to. Bane wasn't letting go of him.

"You're going to have to let go." Blake told him softly, meaning both now and in the future.

"No."

Since any of the ways he could get lose would require him hurting Bane in some way Blake just stayed where he was, waiting the other man out.

He couldn't hold him forever.

And eventually Bane had to let go, his big, strong arms dropping away as well in defeat. And when they did Blake stepped away and then crouched down to retrieve the jewelry box once more, opening it and taking out the choker that lay within. It took him several fumbles to manage it, this wasn't something he did, normally, but finally he got the clasp in place and slid the chain around, the wings feeling straight and in place when Blake lifted his fingers to get a feel for where everything was situated as there was no mirror in the room.

As sure as he could be Blake rose back up to his full height and then turned to face Bane once more, face set to portray nothing. "How's it look?"

Rather than answer Bane took the steps necessary to draw him back into his arms.

That said more than enough.

And Blake didn't argue or put the brakes on things when Bane picked him up and carried him towards their bed a few minutes later.

No...fool that he was, he wrapped his arms around Bane's neck and held on.

)

A bath. An actual, honest to God bath with hot water, soft towels, and his music playing to set the perfect mood. Heaven. Total Heaven, was Simon's thought on the matter as he lay in the slightly too hot water, eyes closed and body relaxed. He was going to stay right where he was until someone came in and made him get out. Hopefully Barsad or John, as he didn't really want anyone else coming in while he was naked and defenseless. That, and those two were the least likely to kill him of the group too, which was equally important in the grand scheme of things. He'd like to die fully clothed, thank you very much. That shouldn't be too much to ask.

Which meant he'd probably be even more naked than the day he was born, since babies came out covered in gross stuff he'd rather not think about it, when he died. Though depending on how he died he might be covered in blood at the very least, plus if they smashed his head open or gutted him-nevermind. Thinking happy thoughts. Happy, happy thoughts.

Like the fact that he was listening to 'She's Like the Wind', as sung by Patrick Swayze. Much to Simon's delight he'd discovered that he could unplug the ear buds and the music would still play loud enough to hear. Which was good since he didn't want to risk electrocuting himself somehow wearing the buds in the bath. He didn't think that was possible...but he also knew he had shitty luck at the best of times. Better safe than sorry.

Bringing his fingers up to his lips Simon made the hand gesture/smacking noise that meant perfection. If there was an official name for that he had no idea-maybe he'd ask John in the morning if he remembered. But either way...life was good for once.

Singing along to the ballad, though not too loud because he wanted to appreciate Swayze's rendition as well, Simon could have really done without the knock on the bathroom door. Which was why he chose to ignore in the hopes that whoever it was, they would go away and leave him in peace.

Sadly that was not the case, as a minute later Barsad opened the door, stuck his head in, and glared at Simon from the doorway.

That being the case, Simon looked up to study the ceiling above him. The plasterwork was lovely.

"Do you know how long you've been in here?"

He could honestly shrug his shoulders, so Simon did. He'd let out water twice to add more hot water...so a couple of hours? Maybe? Also there was a spider building a nest in the corner. Brave bug, doing that in a League hideout. He wasn't a fan of spiders, but he did like looking at their webs.

"Kei! Focus!"

Frowning at the use of that name, he'd asked to go back to Simon, Simon looked over and aimed a dirty look in Barsad's direction.

"Get out of the tub. You're a human prune."

Lifting his arms up and out of the water Simon had to admit, Barsad had a point. He was looking pretty pruney. And realizing at the same time that Barsad had distracted him from listening to the rest of Swayze's song-sacrilegious-Simon grabbed the player and reset it to start the song all over again.

In the very loud silence of Barsad's disapproval the intro to the song began, followed by Swayze's sexy as hell voice.

"If you're trying to seduce me, a song about a female was the wrong choice."

"This is not the song I'd use to seduce you." Simon agreed before closing his eyes, wanting to concentrate on the music instead. Though a small portion of his brain was considering what song would be the best if he were trying to seduce the other man. Which was annoying.

Patrick Swayze deserved his full attention.

So of course Barsad had to come over and reach in to the water to hit the top of the plug, causing the mechanism to pop up and start draining away all his lovely hot water away. Bastard.

Simon wasn't at all surprised to see Barsad looking very pleased with himself when he opened his eyes to express his own opinions on the mater. Though Barsad's look changed considerably when Simon used his foot to put the plug thingie back in place, stopping the water from draining out more.

"You're acting like a child."

"Well it wasn't that long ago I was still considered one." Simon pointed out.

Simon wasn't sure how to interpret the sound Barsad made in response.

"Get out or I'll drag you out."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"That's such a parent thing to say. I'm not calling you Daddy though. That would be weird since we've done sex stuff."

And knowing that Barsad would absolutely drag him out Simon hit his foot on the stupid plug to release it again, then bracing one hand on the rim of the tub hauled himself up with as loud a put upon sigh as he could possibly manage. And just in case that wasn't projecting his annoyance enough-he wasn't always good at getting his feelings across-Simon crossed his arms and tried to channel John in full Brat Mode as he pointed out that he couldn't get out until Barsad moved.

Barsad still wasn't moving. And was now giving him a look that made Simon think of how John tended to look at chocolate.

Oh.

But they were on the outs so Barsad eventually moved away without putting any moves on him. Or if he was he was being very not obvious about it as he cleared space for Simon to climb out of the tub and on to the surprisingly fluffy mat beside it. Who knew the League could own something so soft and nice look?

Grabbing an equally nice towel from the pile on the counter Simon went to work drying himself off thoroughly, very much aware that Barsad's gaze was following every movement with single minded focus.

Was he supposed to make this sexy? He had no idea how to be sexy. Better not to try, Simon surmised, finishing up the whole toweling off before walking over to deposit the towel in the hamper thing he was guessing was there for that purpose. That done, he retrieved his MP3 player and then found himself staring at it for a moment, music still playing softly from it.

"Hungry Eyes." Simon said softly, mostly to himself.

"What?"

"If I was going to pick a song from the 'Dirty Dancing' soundtrack to seduce you with, that's the song I'd use."

An odd pause, then Barsad softly said that he didn't know that song.

"Your loss."

Eyes narrowing, Barsad's next words were a lot harder sounding. "And it wouldn't seduce me."

Simon didn't have a lot of confidence when it came to many things, but in this case...

"Yes. I totally would."

And feeling much better now Simon turned and headed out the door, humming the song in question under his breath.

John would be proud of him.