A/N: The reason this chapter is so short is because there is literally a 3,500 word sex scene cut out to meet FFnet's rating rules.

Even if you don't read any other chapter of this story on AO3, PLEASE make this the one chapter you do read uncensored: archiveofourown(dot-org)/works/684270

Over the next few days Bane steadily improved. As he began to manage eating more and actually digesting the food, his strength slowly returned. He was still shaky and tired easily, but whenever Bane's body wasn't aching he would be pacing around the house or attempting some light exercises to stretch out his muscles. Bane would usually only manage a few sit-ups or push-ups before he was groaning and panting harshly on the carpet, but he was stubborn and it would usually take John standing over him and threatening him with bodily harm for Bane to sigh and surrender.

John knew Bane valued his strength and was discomforted at seeing his body react so negatively to the withdrawal. The few days of extreme sickness and loss of appetite had caused Bane to lose a few noticeable pounds. Bane had a lot of bulk to him between his size and muscle so he never got skinny, but John could see the slight sharpening of his jaw and the definition of his muscles softening ever so slightly. He knew it wouldn't last forever – Bane would be back to his normal exercise routine as soon as he was able, John had no doubt – but it was definitely eye opening to see Bane as a softer, calmer giant.

John remained in the apartment most of the time, only going out occasionally to pick up a few things if they needed them. He spent a large majority of his days reading, leaving Bane mostly alone since Bane continued to sleep through the worst of the withdrawal. All of the websites he had used to research morphine withdrawal had warned him about the potential for serious depression which caused John to hover occasionally, ready to talk to Bane or let Bane pull him close under the covers whenever he needed.

He was impressed by Bane's strength though – his internal will to overcome this and move on. While Bane sometimes needed some reassurance – though he never asked for it – Bane never seemed to fray too much at the edges. If anything, Bane was gradually knitting himself back together; perhaps even stitching up some old scars from the past John had not even known about.

The websites had told John that the worst of the withdrawal would happen in the first two or three days, and that all symptoms should mostly fade in a little over a week. The desire for more morphine would linger for much longer, but since Bane was already showing tremendous restraint from seeking any out, John was not very concerned. Now that the worst of the withdrawal symptoms were behind them, Bane was realizing that he could get past this and that he would be better without the morphine numbing his awareness of the world.

In order to distract Bane from the pain when he was awake, and to prove that Bane was more than just his physical power, John pulled out his old chess set and brushed away the layer of dust on the board and pieces. They took to playing games in the afternoon when they were both awake and alert, and while John had always been able to outmatch anyone at the orphanage or police station, his cockiness was quickly put in check when Bane won the first two games they played.

Both of their competitive natures came out and chess became their new primary pastime, though they both continued to pillage John's stuffed bookshelf in the evenings. They even ended up watching a few movies on John's new netbook since his DVDs had not been stolen along with his other electronics. It was a bizarre experience to sit beside Bane on the couch and watch a movie on the computer as though they were anywhere close to normal and it left John reeling at first. But he remembered that everyone had to relax sometime, and John was glad that Bane was finally finding a way to ease out of the mindset of war.

John was still careful about avoiding any temptation for either of them, not wanting to push things before Bane was capable. However, when John woke up early Monday morning to the feeling of the covers being thrown aside and his pants being dragged down, John wasn't going to complain. He was still half asleep, mind muddled as he blinked his eyes open to take in the sight of Bane kneeling over him and pulling his pants down past his knees.

Their lovemaking was passionate and slow, and when Bane collapsed back against the bed John fell on top of him, unable to hold himself up with Bane's support gone. He lay there for a long time as his body cooled, the room's air ghosting over his sweaty skin as he shivered. Finally Bane grunted and rolled onto his side, sending John toppling onto the mattress. A second later the blankets were around them, and then Bane's arm was threading around his waist.

Bane was like a furnace under the blankets and John felt his eyes growing heavy even though he had just woken up. He thought Bane might have already fallen asleep, his arm loose as it held John close, but then John felt Bane's lips moving against his jaw. "I love you."

John's heart sprouted wings and flew away, leaving behind a pool of warmth. "I love you too," John said. He lifted a hand above the blankets to cup Bane's cheek, tilting his face towards the ceiling slightly. Then John reached up and peppered kisses across Bane's face, first trying to kiss each tiny pinprick of scarring from the needles that had administered morphine – which Bane was finally breaking free of – and then devoting a few moments mapping the cut on Bane's cheek – made by John's own hand – with his lips.

After that he sealed his lips over Bane's, greedy even though they were both worn out. He was addicted to Bane's lips, to feeling and tasting them after so long. John had loved Bane readily with the mask on, and would have continued to remain by his side if the mask had never been peeled away, but there was no point lying. Being able to kiss Bane was much better than kissing the harsh, cold metal of the mask.

"Let's stay in bed today," John suggested on a whim. His body was still loose as Bane cradled him close, and John had no interest in getting up. At some point they would need to get food, but for now John was content just lounging in bed. Maybe they would read a book together, and in the afternoon with the golden sun on their skin they would make love again, but for now they would doze in a shared embrace with matching smiles on their lips.

A/N: The complete, uncensored version of the story: archiveofourown(dot-org)/works/684270

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