Ok, I'm doing the fourth chapter!! This will be longer, more romantic, and
hopefully a little improved detail-wise. Oh, and I noticed I didn't
include a disclaimer in my other chapters wince.. well, if I owned Batman,
I would be rich, and his character would be married to a comic version of
myself. If you sue me, the most you'll get is some chipped nail polish
from my toes or a sketch. I'd say it's not worth it..
(Last time, in Musings of the Sleep Deprived)
Without wasting another second, I moved over to my right, flipping on the lamp in the room, flooding my vision to the point of near-blindness for a moment. I took another look around the room, eventually glancing back towards my window, and it was then that I noticed the crimson dripping from the windowsill, staining my eggshell-colored carpet. The blood moved in a sloppy trail up to a corner on the other side of the room where there was a bookshelf, on which a very injured Dark Knight was now leaning. My breath caught and my heart skipped a beat, but I was by him in an instant, holding him up with an arm around his middle and fingers wrapped around the gloved hand now slung over my shoulder.
"My God," I murmured, as I lowered him onto my couch, "what the hell happened?"
(And now...)
He just groaned again, and it was taking all of my will power to let go of his warm body so I could examine his injuries. The couch was already beginning to turn a rusty color as his blood continued pouring from his wounds.
It took a minute, but I finally assessed all of his injuries: two gashes on his right shoulder, a burn going up his side, another deep cut across his chest, and a sprained knee. I had gotten the first aid kit from the bathroom, and was now kneeling next to him with the kit open on the coffee table just behind me. I couldn't resist the urge to take his Kevlar- clad hand in mine for a moment before realizing my sopping clothes were starting to get rather cold.
I took off my soaked coat and rolled up my sleeves, trying to figure out the best way to position myself so I could get to all of his injuries and avoid arousing myself too much at the same time. Finally I gave up on it and resolved that I'd just move around to where I could get the best access for each cut or such.
First I detached all of his torso body armor, his gloves, and his belt, and placed them on the floor next to the coffee table. Then I turned back to him and, forgive me, I nearly passed out. Not because of the huge amounts of blood, mind you, but because of the work of art it was coming out of. At this point I wasn't sure if I could fix him up without trying to hump his brains out.
Tentatively, I ran my fingers across the cut on his chest. His once slow, and for the most part steady breath suddenly came out in a sharp hiss of pain, and my fingers drew back immediately. Then I grabbed a cotton swab and soaked it with some alcohol, carefully dabbing it to the wound. Batman tensed up momentarily, but quickly relaxed as I cleaned the area and then applied Neosporin and a gauze bandage to it. As I secured it with a couple of strips of medical tape, I wondered how many times he's had this done. Not that looking at the vast amount of scars scattered across him wasn't any indication, but it made me think (which wasn't a bad thing, since I would otherwise be painfully aroused.)
Well, curiosity got the best of me..again. My, that seems to be a problem with me doesn't it? Anyway, I opened my big mouth and inquired as to who usually did this while I bandaged up his burned side. A quiet reply of the name "Alfred" was all I got, not that I expected more. I hoped to meet this "Alfred" one day, and at the thought I couldn't help but smile - meeting Alfred would probably mean getting through a few other steps towards each other..like another kiss. Yum. But back to the task at hand.
As I hypothesized about what Alfred was like, I put an ace bandage around his knee over the costume, and then grabbed some gauze on a roll to do the twin gashes on his shoulder. I was having trouble getting to it though, so, bravely, I ventured to straddle his hips for better access to his cuts. It was much easier to get the gauze around, but I was feeling about ready to explode. Damn my body. Needed to get my mind back on the bandaging, fast. Sigh.
I was almost done bandaging him up when his hand clamped down on my forearm.
"Jim," he managed, "my head.."
I nodded once and finished bandaging his shoulder (and did I mention he has a beautiful body? Pale and littered with scars, but beautiful) before looking up to see him weakly gesturing at some blood slowly dribbling down the side of his face. But I couldn't see the cut...so I reasoned it must be under the mask. Which required taking off the mask...which meant seeing his face. But it's not like I had the option of letting him do it himself in private - he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. And it was still bleeding enough that it would have been quite dangerous to just leave it alone.
I gazed down at the white slits that concealed his eyes. He looked so vulnerable right then, and I really hated to take off his mask. It might have scared him. Hell, it might have scared me. It would definitely change everything. This wasn't the sort of thing I had wanted to think about on a night like this, or ever really. There was just too much left up to chance. I didn't want to, not that I hadn't wondered, but God I never though it would happen, and why then?? But I guess that's just my luck. I leaned in close, my face hovering inches from his.
"You're sure?" I whispered, moving my shaking hand up to his cheek, absently wiping away some of the blood.
"Sure. Trust you. Do it," he murmured, feebly squeezing my thigh (lucky for me, the closest thing to his limp hand) in reassurance.
I couldn't stop myself then. I leaned down and kissed him, softly at first, but within seconds my lips were crushing his with bruising force and my eyes were squeezed shut as my trembling fingers peeled the mask back. His breath was coming quick and hot out of his nose, and I could feel the heaving of his chest beneath me - and it turned me on something fierce. Damn I was horrible. My head was spinning from the waves of desire crashing over me and my palms were sweaty - and I was supposed to be helping my injured friend. Fuck.
Keeping my eyes closed tightly, I summoned every bit of will power I had and pulled back from my friend's soft, moist lips, gasping for air. I now sat clutching the removed mask in my hands as if my life depended on it. I took a deep breath and started to crack my eyes open, and as his face blurred into my vision, I was reminded that this moment would change our lives forever.
Well, that's chapter four!! Yes, I am evil leaving you hanging. Maybe I'll have the phone ring or something right at the beginning of the next chapter just to piss you off, mwahahaha!! Please review! ^_^
(Last time, in Musings of the Sleep Deprived)
Without wasting another second, I moved over to my right, flipping on the lamp in the room, flooding my vision to the point of near-blindness for a moment. I took another look around the room, eventually glancing back towards my window, and it was then that I noticed the crimson dripping from the windowsill, staining my eggshell-colored carpet. The blood moved in a sloppy trail up to a corner on the other side of the room where there was a bookshelf, on which a very injured Dark Knight was now leaning. My breath caught and my heart skipped a beat, but I was by him in an instant, holding him up with an arm around his middle and fingers wrapped around the gloved hand now slung over my shoulder.
"My God," I murmured, as I lowered him onto my couch, "what the hell happened?"
(And now...)
He just groaned again, and it was taking all of my will power to let go of his warm body so I could examine his injuries. The couch was already beginning to turn a rusty color as his blood continued pouring from his wounds.
It took a minute, but I finally assessed all of his injuries: two gashes on his right shoulder, a burn going up his side, another deep cut across his chest, and a sprained knee. I had gotten the first aid kit from the bathroom, and was now kneeling next to him with the kit open on the coffee table just behind me. I couldn't resist the urge to take his Kevlar- clad hand in mine for a moment before realizing my sopping clothes were starting to get rather cold.
I took off my soaked coat and rolled up my sleeves, trying to figure out the best way to position myself so I could get to all of his injuries and avoid arousing myself too much at the same time. Finally I gave up on it and resolved that I'd just move around to where I could get the best access for each cut or such.
First I detached all of his torso body armor, his gloves, and his belt, and placed them on the floor next to the coffee table. Then I turned back to him and, forgive me, I nearly passed out. Not because of the huge amounts of blood, mind you, but because of the work of art it was coming out of. At this point I wasn't sure if I could fix him up without trying to hump his brains out.
Tentatively, I ran my fingers across the cut on his chest. His once slow, and for the most part steady breath suddenly came out in a sharp hiss of pain, and my fingers drew back immediately. Then I grabbed a cotton swab and soaked it with some alcohol, carefully dabbing it to the wound. Batman tensed up momentarily, but quickly relaxed as I cleaned the area and then applied Neosporin and a gauze bandage to it. As I secured it with a couple of strips of medical tape, I wondered how many times he's had this done. Not that looking at the vast amount of scars scattered across him wasn't any indication, but it made me think (which wasn't a bad thing, since I would otherwise be painfully aroused.)
Well, curiosity got the best of me..again. My, that seems to be a problem with me doesn't it? Anyway, I opened my big mouth and inquired as to who usually did this while I bandaged up his burned side. A quiet reply of the name "Alfred" was all I got, not that I expected more. I hoped to meet this "Alfred" one day, and at the thought I couldn't help but smile - meeting Alfred would probably mean getting through a few other steps towards each other..like another kiss. Yum. But back to the task at hand.
As I hypothesized about what Alfred was like, I put an ace bandage around his knee over the costume, and then grabbed some gauze on a roll to do the twin gashes on his shoulder. I was having trouble getting to it though, so, bravely, I ventured to straddle his hips for better access to his cuts. It was much easier to get the gauze around, but I was feeling about ready to explode. Damn my body. Needed to get my mind back on the bandaging, fast. Sigh.
I was almost done bandaging him up when his hand clamped down on my forearm.
"Jim," he managed, "my head.."
I nodded once and finished bandaging his shoulder (and did I mention he has a beautiful body? Pale and littered with scars, but beautiful) before looking up to see him weakly gesturing at some blood slowly dribbling down the side of his face. But I couldn't see the cut...so I reasoned it must be under the mask. Which required taking off the mask...which meant seeing his face. But it's not like I had the option of letting him do it himself in private - he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. And it was still bleeding enough that it would have been quite dangerous to just leave it alone.
I gazed down at the white slits that concealed his eyes. He looked so vulnerable right then, and I really hated to take off his mask. It might have scared him. Hell, it might have scared me. It would definitely change everything. This wasn't the sort of thing I had wanted to think about on a night like this, or ever really. There was just too much left up to chance. I didn't want to, not that I hadn't wondered, but God I never though it would happen, and why then?? But I guess that's just my luck. I leaned in close, my face hovering inches from his.
"You're sure?" I whispered, moving my shaking hand up to his cheek, absently wiping away some of the blood.
"Sure. Trust you. Do it," he murmured, feebly squeezing my thigh (lucky for me, the closest thing to his limp hand) in reassurance.
I couldn't stop myself then. I leaned down and kissed him, softly at first, but within seconds my lips were crushing his with bruising force and my eyes were squeezed shut as my trembling fingers peeled the mask back. His breath was coming quick and hot out of his nose, and I could feel the heaving of his chest beneath me - and it turned me on something fierce. Damn I was horrible. My head was spinning from the waves of desire crashing over me and my palms were sweaty - and I was supposed to be helping my injured friend. Fuck.
Keeping my eyes closed tightly, I summoned every bit of will power I had and pulled back from my friend's soft, moist lips, gasping for air. I now sat clutching the removed mask in my hands as if my life depended on it. I took a deep breath and started to crack my eyes open, and as his face blurred into my vision, I was reminded that this moment would change our lives forever.
Well, that's chapter four!! Yes, I am evil leaving you hanging. Maybe I'll have the phone ring or something right at the beginning of the next chapter just to piss you off, mwahahaha!! Please review! ^_^