A/N: Due to FFnet censoring me I had to cut out another sex scene in this chapter. I would recommend for readers to either read the entire chapter on AO3, or at least go over to AO3 for the sex scene part which occurs after this 'chapter' ends.
Link to AO3: archiveofourown(dot-org)/works/684270/chapters/1344992
For a week John and Bane rested in the apartment. They spent time pouring over the book of maps John had taken from the cavern, studying where they would be able to find different tunnel entrances throughout the city and trying to decide how they could best use them to get around without Bane being recognized. Towards the end of the week when John was beginning to heal after the attack on the street they decided to find one of the tunnels and explore.
There were two tunnel entrances near John's apartment and once the sun set one evening John and Bane slipped out of the apartment and sought them. The first tunnel ended up being a bust, destroyed when the sewers had been blown up in the war. John had sent Bane a withering look and they had backtracked, and his mood had vastly improved when he found the second close tunnel open and accessible.
There was a small tram system set up and since John lived on the side of town closer to the waterfall beyond Gotham's limits, it only took twenty minutes underground for the air in the tunnels to grow damp. It wasn't long after that when John heard the distant roar of the waterfall and they passed rooms built into the tunnel. They got off the small tram and began to explore, John showing Bane everything he had discovered on his trip almost a week prior.
By the time they were done looking around John was exhausted, still worn down from the fight as his body worked on recovering. They couldn't stay overnight at the cave though, because even though there was some non-perishable food set up in a cupboard, staying would mean that they had to wait until the following night. Despite the fact that it had been over a month since the war had ended in Gotham, John and Bane would not yet risk Bane walking outside during the day. However, the idea stayed with John that if he and Bane planned a longer trip out to the cavern, Bane could walk under the sun in the forest.
They got back on the tram and Bane pulled John onto his lap, holding John in his arms. Content, warm and tired, John rested his head against Bane's shoulder and promptly fell asleep for the twenty minute trip back. He only jolted awake when the tram reached the end of the line. John rubbed at his bleary eyes and allowed Bane to lead him home and into bed.
The rest of the week was spent with chess and movies, the internet and the radio as John kept up to date with the news. John also dug out a spare drawing notebook from his bookshelf and took advantage of their time inside to sketch a few drawings of Bane's exposed face and changed body.
John was itching to begin training but he forced himself to wait, lounging on the couch and watching Bane's rigorous exercise routine day after day as his skin was bathed in sunlight through the windows. John would never get tired of watching the muscles on Bane's arms and back flex, noting a new smoothness to his movements as the exercises fought off any lingering pain from Venom. John often found it difficult to hold himself back from making each of Bane's routines end with their limbs tangled together.
When the weekend rolled around John had healed enough to walk out in public without drawing attention. John's lip had healed and while his black eye wasn't completely gone, the ghost of a shadow beneath his eye could be blamed on lighting outside and in rooms instead of raising eyebrows. A few of the bruises marring the rest of John's body were still taking time to fade, particularly the ones on his side where he had been kicked. But they could be hidden beneath John's clothing.
The first thing John did when he could walk back outside during daylight hours was pick up more groceries to restock the fridge. Then his second stop was the bank, Bruce's letter tucked away in his pocket for safekeeping as he was led into a different office with fogged glass walls. John explained the situation – loosely – and handed over the final page of Bruce's letter, which he had made a copy of before coming to the bank.
To say John was stunned by the amount of money waiting for him in the back account Bruce had left for him would be an understatement. John ended up leaving the bank in a bit of a daze, his mouth probably hanging open in shock. If he and Bane spent the money wisely and didn't splurge – something John knew they could both do easily since they were unaccustomed to having or spending money – they could live comfortably on what Bruce had left them without having to find jobs.
That didn't mean that John wouldn't find work he enjoyed in the future if he could think of another profession other than being a cop that could help the city, but the option was freeing to have. Bane had a similar reaction when John told him the news, admitting that he was relieved to know he wouldn't have to relinquish John to a normal job anytime soon. With Bruce's money John and Bane were free to spend their days and nights together, training and just taking the time to truly be together.
Bane would only start John's training once John was completely healed without a single shadow of a bruise on his skin. John was disappointed at first when the first few weeks consisted only of exercises but found out quickly that even the exercise was enough for him to work out his tension and pent up energy. John had an exercise routine of his own but the one Bane drilled into his head had John panting and sweaty at the end of it every single day. By the time they finished each evening John could barely drag himself into the shower and bed before collapsing.
He worried that he was too weak even for this, that Bane would call the whole thing off and tell him that it just wasn't meant to be. John wouldn't give up though, and as the days turned into weeks his stamina and strength vastly improved. With some of Bruce's money John ordered a treadmill and they both took turns running on it since Bane couldn't run outside despite the warming weather. The routine also included sit-ups, push-ups, lunges, and many other exercises that quickly built up muscles and endurance.
The day combat training started was the day John pushed himself into a standing position from the floor after completing his last set of push-ups, breathing a little hard but grinning and watching Bane eagerly. "What else?" he asked, no longer ready to simply crawl into the shower and sleep.
Bane sent him a smirk and beckoned him closer and John felt a newfound energy fill him like a starburst, excited and willing. First Bane moulded John's posture, showing him how he should hold himself and what stances he should use in fights for the best balance and power behind his punches and kicks. John did his best to mimic Bane's demonstration and then followed Bane's touches as he adjusted John's position.
It was sometimes difficult to remain focused when Bane's hands touched John's hips or inner thighs, widening his stance, and it was even harder for John to not purposefully mess up his posture just to get Bane to correct him. But even though their training sessions occasionally got derailed to the couch or the floor or the shower, for the most part John focused strictly on listening to everything Bane taught him.
John was particularly excited when Bane finally nodded and told him they would start fighting. John assumed that the first few sessions would be review for him since he had received some good training when joining the police force and had used said skills during his years patrolling the streets. However, the first punch of Bane's that connected had John wincing and staggering back. He was about to scold Bane for using too much force when he became conscious of two facts. First, Bane was holding back. And second, the bad guys wouldn't.
It snapped John out of his cocky mindset and focused his attention fully on listening to what Bane told and showed him. Even though John had some hand to hand combat experience, what Bane was teaching him was something entirely different. They practiced each movement repeatedly until it was engrained and became muscle memory; every offensive and defensive move, as well as the stances.
It wasn't enough for John to learn how to hit or block attacks; Bane would stall their lessons if John didn't properly return to his steadying stance halfway through a fight. More than once John would forget to move his feet and Bane would trip him, sending him sprawling to the floor to prove just how important it was to remember the basic stances. "The basics are what will save your life," Bane told him. "Fancy moves can confuse your enemy but will also waste your energy."
Although John had been impatient for his combat training to begin, he was grateful to Bane for insisting they wait until John had completely healed. Every night when John rolled into bed he was sore, new bruises across his skin from punches, grabbing holds and the times John ended up hitting the ground. His body ached but it was a good sort of ache; the kind you could grow addicted to because it was paired with endorphins and satisfaction at a successful day of work and effort.
They began with the basics and stuck with them. Even when Bane taught John a move with more flourish, good for distracting an enemy, Bane would always go back to the basic movements and stances again, ensuring they were drilled into John's memory. Bane's teachings didn't just focus on punches and kicks though. They also worked on ways John could use his elbows and knees, and Bane made sure to point out all the weakest parts of the human body so that John could incapacitate even someone of Bane's size and stature.
It was tough work but John loved it, and it was clear that Bane loved it too. Between the training and the relaxing walks John and Bane took some evenings to stretch out their muscles, Bane really seemed to settle down contently into the new routine. When John suggested taking a few days off – weary from training – it was Bane who encouraged John not to give up and offered a calmer but still continuous week of training.
Despite Bane's qualms about John risking his life for Gotham, training John put Bane at ease. John could see the fire in Bane's eyes as he was driven by purpose, his goal to protect and prepare John for the future he wanted to chase. And as the first month and then the second passed, John noticed the way Bane grew less overbearing when it came to John's safety. Bane was still possessive in general and John loved that, but it also made him pleased and proud to see Bane less concerned about John's safety and more trusting of John's own ability.
John knew it wasn't just Bane who noticed the changes. Since John wasn't working and had promised Bane not to seek out fights on the street before he was prepared to defend himself, John had decided to occasionally help Jim with relatively safe police work once in a while when they needed an extra hand. There wasn't a lot John could do to help when he didn't have an official badge but sometimes Jim just needed an extra hand or pair of eyes to go through some files or offer suggestions on problematic situations.
John had texted Jim with the offer to help and hadn't been expecting much in return, but was pleasantly surprised when Jim invited him over to his office. When John arrived he had immediately noticed the way Jim's eyes studied him critically, a look of surprise and maybe even awe on his face. "Been working out?" Jim asked him.
John had looked down at himself, for the first time realizing just how much his body had changed. There was no more fat on his body, just toned muscle beneath his skin. He also knew from when he looked himself over in his bathroom mirror that his chest was broader and his arms and thighs a bit thicker. John had thought the changes were only visible to him because he was looking for them, but apparently they were more obvious than he thought.
"Keeping busy," John said vaguely, trying to control his pleased smile.
It wasn't that John had been out of shape before his training began but he liked knowing that his body looked physically able and strong, and that he was quickly learning the skills to back up his appearance. The exercise continued every day and John challenged himself by trying to keep up with Bane, slowly edging closer to matching the number of push-ups and sit-ups Bane did each day as part of his routine. Bane also continued to teach John more moves while reinforcing what John had already learned. But once John had the basics down they began to practice, which quickly became John's favourite pastime.
It didn't matter that Bane was holding back enough that John only received bruises and not broken bones; fighting Bane was still the most challenging thing John had ever done. Bane had obviously grown up with these sorts of skills, first picking up crude versions of fighting to keep himself alive in prison and then having his skills honed by the League. Bane was a deadly opponent, physically strong, viciously fast in his reflexes and sharp enough in his calculative intelligence to plan the fight so far ahead that John would be lucky to land a hit.
John never really planned on winning a fight against Bane; it seemed like one of those unattainable goals used only as motivation to continue improving. Winning wasn't John's main goal anyway, and he knew that fighting Bane was very different from fighting the average thugs on the street. What he had already learned would likely be enough to help him win any fight he got drawn into on the streets of Gotham, though that didn't stifle John's desire to learn more. Especially when he noticed the way Bane began to look at John differently.
Bane had never looked down on John, nor made John feel lesser. Bane had always treated him as an equal, both as an individual and as a partner in the relationship. However, John had noticed the curl of satisfaction and pride on Bane's lips whenever John did a move or sequence of movements particularly well. He had also caught onto the way Bane's eyes darkened when he watched John exercise, arousal evident.
John had originally been concerned that Bane would dislike John growing stronger and more skilled at fighting and defending himself – perhaps Bane liked having someone weaker to protect. That fear had been quickly swept aside when John saw Bane's reactions to John's changing body. Bane was turned on by John growing stronger. He pushed John harder and further, challenging John in ways no one had before that left John determined and elated.
And as if things weren't going well enough already, the sex was amazing. Not that it had been in any way lacking before, the mere memories often sending a heated tingle to John's groin, but things were different now when they made love. Bane was still tender and loving but he was no longer hesitant or cautious. He was assured in all of his movements as he prepared and took John, always holding John close but never like John was made of glass and might break.
John loved it and he couldn't imagine being happier than he was in those few months in his apartment with Bane, training and exercising and settling into a real life with Bane as his partner. He knew his training must be nearly complete, or at least Bane would feel comfortable enough with what John had learned for them to start patrolling the streets.
A part of John was almost dreading the thought of going out into the city to protect the citizens, even though he was also excited; his evenings spent at home and on relaxed walks with Bane had become a comfortable part of his routine that he looked forward to every day. John knew change was inevitable but he wasn't rushing towards it any longer, assuming things couldn't get any better than they already were.
Then things got even better.
It was late afternoon and the sun was spilling into the apartment. John and Bane were both dressed down in shorts and t-shirts, overheated from the sun and from their movements as they circled one another. Their exercises were done for the day, as were the lessons and now they were having their last duel before they took a break for the evening. Despite a tiring day and a rigorous week they were both still riled with energy, neither of them backing away from the fight.
Bane had been training John for almost three months by that point, and it had been four months since Bruce had died to save Gotham. John was proud of his progress, memorizing everything Bane taught him and practicing even in his spare time. As the offensive and defensive manoeuvres grew instinctual for him, John's movements began to speed up as he acted and reacted quicker each time he fought against Bane.
He hadn't thought much about it before this afternoon when John suddenly realized that he was out-stepping his partner. Bane was still undeniably fast – John was certain that Bane had also improved these last few months of repeated, continuous training – and was deadly if he managed to pin John, but John noticed that Bane was able to corner him less and less frequently.
Bane was a powerhouse in every way – strength, speed and intelligence – but his strength was what could always send an opponent to the ground. However, John was lighter on his feet simply because of his smaller body size and as soon as he had his stances and moves memorized, John began being able to dance around Bane and avoid the attacks that would normally leave him dazed.
A smile appeared on John's lips as he repeatedly skipped out of Bane's grasp, and that smile slowly morphed into a grin as Bane grew more agitated and fought to pin John with more force. John was on a roll though and kept jumping out of Bane's grasp, always a step ahead of him so that Bane's hands would grasp empty air instead of John's body. John blocked every attack Bane sent his way and studied Bane's actions, looking for an opening he could exploit.
John knew it when he saw it and lunged forward, not wasting an instant to second-guess himself. He ducked around Bane's string of punches and hooked his foot between Bane's legs, taking advantage of the split second Bane was unbalanced from his attack to catch his foot and twist, sending Bane stumbling. Before Bane could react John had already swivelled around and kicked the inside of Bane's knee, buckling it and sending Bane to his knees.
Not willing to lose this advantage John rushed forward again, tackling Bane with all the weight and strength he possessed until Bane collapsed flat against the floor, John's arm hooked around Bane's neck and pulling back against his throat. Bane tried to struggle free but John tightened his hold against Bane's windpipe warningly and Bane finally fell still.
They were both panting hard, John's body pinning Bane's to the carpet with his arm still securely around Bane's throat. John wanted to count it as a victory but he wanted Bane to admit to it as well. "Yield," he demanded, scowling when he felt Bane's muscles tense up at the consideration of continuing to fight back. "Yield!" John said louder, tightening his hold until Bane's head tilted back, his neck no doubt aching at the abuse.
One by one John could feel the muscles in Bane's body loosen and relax. Then the magic words came, a whisper but very real. "I yield."
Triumphant, John released his hold on Bane's neck and with his free hand grabbed the collar of Bane's shirt, pulling it down. He was exhausted and proud and aroused and John didn't think twice before sinking his teeth into the meat of Bane's shoulder. John could feel the vibration of Bane's groan beneath him and the distinct rise and fall of Bane's hips grinding against the carpet.
When John pulled back he saw the ring of his teeth marks and dropped his lips down to kiss the mark, soothing the flesh with his tongue a moment later. Bane shuddered noticeably and ground his hips up and back down again and John smiled. "Mine."
Bane moved them, slipping from beneath John to the side and sending John toppling. Before John could react or complain Bane knelt down and hoisted John up into his arms, carrying him to the bedroom without a word. John was practically thrown onto the bed, bouncing once on the mattress before Bane crawled above him and pinned him in place. "Yours," Bane returned against John's lips and then stole his breath greedily.
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"Beyond the Shadow" on AO3: archiveofourown(dot-org)/works/684270