Bruce opened his eyes to a mess of tangled blond hair. He brought up a hand and pulled some strands out of his mouth, careful not to disturb Jonathan, who was a notoriously light sleeper. But Jonathan continued to breathe softly against Bruce's chest, dead to the world.
He smiled and smoothed Jonathan's hair, thinking about the night before. Not just the night before, but how far they'd come since he and Jonathan had first gotten together. Back then, Jonathan had been traumatized by what Fletcher had done to him and generally unsure of himself as a sexual being. He hadn't known what he'd wanted in bed, much less how to ask for it. Or that he could ask.
That he could say no.
Bruce's smile faded away. He ran his fingers down Jonathan's back, remembering the first time he'd tried to penetrate Jonathan. Bruce had known Jonathan was nervous, so he'd gone slowly and remained attuned to Jonathan's needs. That hadn't prevented Jonathan from having a full blown panic attack that ended with him blacking out. If Bruce hadn't thought to call Cherry… if Cherry hadn't been able to calm Jonathan down…
They'd tried a few times after that, at Jonathan's insistence. Both ways, because Bruce didn't care what position he was in. But, Jonathan didn't like the act. And Bruce spent six long, lonely months trying to convince the man he loved that it was all right.
Jonathan, being who he was, broke off the relationship. He'd cut off all contact with Bruce, refusing phone calls and sending back letters and presents unopened. When Bruce had gone back to Chicago, it was three days before Jonathan would speak to him, and that was only because the other girls, tired of Jonathan's nonsense, forced him to serve Bruce at the bar.
It was Cherry who finally brokered peace. Cherry who sat them down and acted as their sex counselor. She managed to convince Jonathan that not all people liked penatrative sex, and it wasn't a failing on his part.
"But Bruce isn't one of those people. He enjoys it." Jonathan had sat there, eyes bright with tears, arms and legs crossed, glaring defiantly at a point above Bruce's head.
"You don't get to tell me what I do and don't want." Bruce had fought the urge to snap at him, months of frustration and anger bubbling beneath the surface. "My choice is to be with you. If that means we don't have penatrative sex, so what? There are plenty of other things to do in bed."
Jonathan had shaken his head. "You'll get bored." A tear crept down his cheek.
Bruce and Cherry exchanged looks.
Cherry put her hand on Jonathan's knee and squeezed. "Sugar. When two people are in love and willing to be imaginative, it's never boring. Just remember to keep the lines of communication open."
"I want this to work. Please, don't shut me out." Bruce had taken Jonathan's hands in his and squeezed.
It'd taken a few seconds, but Jonathan finally looked at Bruce. His face was a heartbreaking mess of hope and devastation. "It'll never work."
"Trust me."
Another pause. Then, Jonathan had given the tiniest of nods.
It had been a beginning. A starting point. With Cherry's advice, and Bruce finding a well of patience in him he never knew existed, Bruce and Jonathan had stumbled together into a sex life they both enjoyed.
And Bruce had enjoyed last night very much indeed. He smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of Jonathan's head. One benefit to being a recluse was he didn't have anything on his schedule, and, since he was feeling better, that meant he could stay in bed all day. With company.
Jonathan moaned and gave a full body stretch along Bruce.
"You awake?" Bruce stroked Jonathan's neck.
"No. And I don't plan to be for another few hours." Jonathan kissed Bruce's chest, then rolled off him and buried his face in the pillows.
Bruce spooned up behind him. "Anything I can do to change your mind?" He teased his fingers down Jonathan's stomach.
Jonathan smacked his hand away. "Not now, you beast. I'm exhausted."
He laughed. "Okay, then." Bruce nipped Jonathan's ear. "I'm going to the cave. Sure you don't want to come with me?"
"Drag myself out of a nice warm bed to hang out in a dank cave? I think not."
Bruce draped himself on top of Jonathan. Nuzzled behind his ear. "I won't be long. Get some rest. I've got plans for you today."
Jonathan shivered and moaned. "Promises, promises."
He kissed the nape of Jonathan's neck and rolled off him. "Back soon."
Bruce pulled on his pajamas and robe, picked up his cane and headed downstairs. The cat burglar's fingerprints were already in his pocket. He was curious to see who the mysterious woman was.
He had to admit, the cave did feel pretty cold and desolate when he entered. He turned on the heater before sitting down in front of the computer. It'd been a long time since he'd been down here. After the Joker and Dent… after Batman had become a villain, there hadn't seemed to be much point. Sure, he'd done some undercover sleuthing, called in tips, even went out a few times over the years. But, gradually, he'd stopped. Stopped going out as either Batman or Bruce Wayne. Honestly, the only times he'd really adventured out into public and enjoyed himself were the all too few times scattered throughout the year when he'd gone to visit Jonathan.
What have I done to myself? Bruce wondered as he worked. And what's been the point?
"You haven't been down here in a long time," Alfred said, interrupting Bruce's melancholy thoughts.
"Just trying to find out more about our jewel thief. How'd you know I was down here?"
Alfred gave him a pointed look. "You weren't in your room, nor anywhere else. Process of elimination."
"You didn't go in, did you?" Bruce turned to face Alfred, worried. "Jonathan's sensitive about his privacy."
"No, sir." Alfred's jaw tightened. "I knocked. He told me where you were."
Bruce nodded and relaxed. "I ran the thief's prints from the photos she handled, but she was wearing someone else's fingerprints. She's good."
"She may be. But we have a trace on the necklace."
"We do, so I cross-referenced the address she went back to with police data on high end B-and-E's." He pulled up dozens upon dozens of articles he had found. "Selina Kyle. The databases are full of close calls, tips from fences…" He shrugged. "She's good, but the ground is shrinking beneath her feet."
"We should send the police before she fences the pearls."
Bruce's stomach tightened, remembering the pearls around Jonathan's neck. Of the shocked expression in his eyes when Bruce had told them they were his. He was so sweet when he was taken off guard, so beautiful.
"She won't," Bruce said, pulling his mind back to the present. "She likes them too much. And they weren't what she was after."
"What was she after?"
"My fingerprints. There was printer toner mixed with graphite on the safe. Gives you a good pull, and it's untraceable." He couldn't help the admiration that crept into his voice.
"Fascinating," Alfred bit out. "Maybe you should exchange notes over coffee."
Bruce raised his eyebrow and turned away from the computer. "I thought you were against me consorting with criminals. Now you're trying to set me up with one?"
"Better a jewel thief than the psychotic monster you've currently got upstairs."
Something shuttered inside Bruce. His teeth clenched, and his vision went dark. "Jonathan's changed."
"Has he? Has he truly reformed? Served his debt to society and made amends?" Alfred sounded angry, truly enraged. "Or has he merely run away from what he did and gotten off Scot free?"
"You don't think he's suffered?"
A muscle in Alfred's jaw twitched. "It's not a matter of suffering. I mean no ill will toward him. I would not wish what happened to him upon anyone, truly. But my point still stands. Is he truly reformed?"
Bruce threw his hands up. "It's been nearly ten years since the incident in the Narrows! And since his escape, he's used his toxin twice, both times for self-defense."
"Because of you." Alfred pointed at Bruce. "Because he doesn't want to lose you."
"Yeah? So?"
"What happens if you are removed from the equation?"
He blinked, an uncomfortable sensation creeping over his body. "I'm not going to break up with him. I'm planning… We've started talking about leaving, Alfred. Me leaving Gotham again and being together. For real."
For just a moment, it looked like Alfred's face softened, but it happened so quickly that Bruce might have been imagining it. "That's all well and good, Master Wayne, but you need to be clear about what kind of person you are dealing with. Jonathan Crane, no matter what name he uses, no matter how he dresses, is not a reformed criminal. Jonathan Crane is an addict who has found a very powerful incentive to give up his drug of choice. But I guarantee that, should anything happen to you, your precious Sugar will disappear, and the Scarecrow will return."
Bruce wanted to protest. To insist that Alfred was wrong, that Jonathan would never…
And it wasn't even that he didn't trust Jonathan. Because he did. Bruce loved Jonathan with all his heart, trusted Jonathan with every fiber of his being. But he had never had any illusions about who Jonathan was.
Jonathan was not sorry for the patients he'd experimented on. He didn't regret the Narrows. If he could make more fear toxin, he would, even if he never used it. Just because he could. Bruce knew that.
And he loved Jonathan anyway.
"Thank you, Alfred," he finally managed. He licked his dry lips and met the other man's eyes. "I'll keep that in mind."
Alfred held Bruce's gaze a moment longer. Then, he inclined his head, turned and left the cave.
Jonathan woke to the feel of wet, open mouthed kisses being pressed to his neck. He moaned deep in his throat and stretched, pushing back against Bruce's erection.
"Good morning." Bruce caught Jonathan's earlobe between his teeth.
"Morning." He tangled his fingers with Bruce's as Bruce slid his hand down Jonathan's stomach. "Was yesterday not enough for you?" The day before had been indulgent, to say the least. Except for a brief period in which Bruce had disappeared into the cave to do research on the cat burglar, they'd spent most of the day in bed together. It'd been wonderful.
"I can never have enough of you." Bruce kissed a sensitive patch behind Jonathan's ear, sending a shiver through him. His hand moved lower until he took hold of Jonathan's half-hard cock.
Jonathan's breath caught. He swallowed, toes pointing and flexing as Bruce began stroking him with slow, steady pulls. "Bruce," he managed hoarsely.
"Just relax, Sugar. Let me take care of you." Bruce's hand moved faster. Fingers teased at the head of Jonathan's cock, gathering wetness and spreading it, easing the friction.
Heat rushed through Jonathan's body. He pressed his head against Bruce's shoulder, little waves of pleasure rippling through him. Restless, Jonathan tossed the blankets off him then reached behind him. He slid his fingers into Bruce's hair and clenched, groaning as Bruce twisted his wrist as he stroked even faster.
"You're so beautiful, baby." Bruce peppered kisses down Jonathan's neck. Sank his teeth into the meat of Jonathan's shoulder.
Jonathan cried out. Writhed his hips against Bruce, feeling his hardness against his ass, sliding against him.
Bruce grunted and hauled Jonathan to his knees. He maneuvered Jonathan so he knelt, supported by Bruce. Bruce's cock nestled against the crack of Jonathan's ass. As Bruce nipped and kissed his way along Jonathan's neck and shoulder, he moved his hips and hand together in a rhythm, rutting against Jonathan as he stroked Jonathan's cock.
Fire built in Jonathan's body. He tugged at Bruce's hair. Little moans escaped him as Bruce played his body, stroking him higher and higher with one hand, the other caressing up and down his torso. Teeth scraped along Jonathan's skin, the pain chased away by a wet tongue and soothing kisses. Bruce shifted so the head of his cock nudged up against Jonathan's balls, sending a full body shudder through Jonathan.
Jonathan tipped forward, just barely catching himself on his forearm. He released Bruce's hair and clutched the pillow as Bruce pressed against him. Readjusted his hold on Jonathan, gripping harder.
"That's it, baby," Bruce growled against Jonathan's shoulder blade. He licked a bead of sweat up Jonathan's spine and kissed the nape of his neck. "Let go."
"B-bruce," Jonathan choked out as he stiffened.
Bruce pressed his thumb against the wet head of Jonathan's cock. Released.
Jonathan came with a punched out moan. His body shook as Bruce stroked him through his orgasm, playing with him until Jonathan was spent and on the edge of oversensitivity. Still shuddering, Jonathan lowered his forehead to the bed and breathed, trying to catch his breath.
Still pressed against him, Bruce put his hand on Jonathan's back. Jonathan heard Bruce's breathing grow rougher and knew Bruce must be jerking himself off, a fact that proved to be correct when he came a moment later, his spend splashing on Jonathan's ass and legs.
They stayed where they were for a moment, both catching their breaths. Bruce moved first, wiping Jonathan off with the sheet then laying down and pulling Jonathan to him.
Jonathan went willing, sprawling bonelessly across Bruce's body. A happy, warm glow suffused his body, and his lips turned up in a smile.
Bruce threaded their fingers together. He kissed the top of Jonathan's head and wrapped one leg around Jonathan's. "This is nice. We haven't done this since… Christ, was it that one time I took you to that little cabin on Lake Superior?"
"Ah, yes. Just where every drag queen longs to go. Nature."
He rolled on top of Jonathan, propping himself up on his forearms. "It's not like I made you go hiking." Bruce rubbed his nose on Jonathan's. "We stayed inside most of the weekend, except for a late night dip under the stars."
The corner of Jonathan's mouth tugged up. "I have to admit, I never thought I'd go skinny dipping at midnight underneath a full moon."
Bruce kissed him. "We should do that again," he whispered against Jonathan's lips. "But next time, we'll do it on a private beach in Greece."
"We'll have to add that to the list," Jonathan said, referring to the list they'd made yesterday of in-between bouts of lovemaking of places they'd like to travel. That had been in addition to the tentative proposal Bruce had helped Jonathan create for him to present to Buzz and Cherry about buying at least part ownership of Dreamgirls. All in all, yesterday had been a busy day.
"I'm trying to decide if we should bother with a shower before breakfast, or admit that all I want for breakfast is you," Bruce said as he wetly kissed his way down Jonathan's neck to his chest.
Jonathan laughed. "Oh, God, I'm not sure I can get it up again so soon."
Bruce fastened his lips around Jonathan's nipple and raised his eyes to look at him as he teased it with his tongue
He groaned. "Ah," he moaned. "You are, of course, welcome to try."
Bruce pulled off with a wet pop and pushed up to give Jonathan a messy kiss. "Challenge accepted." He moved back down to Jonathan's stomach, peppering it with hot kisses as he stroked and teased Jonathan's nipples.
Jonathan closed his eyes and gave himself over to sensation when, suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door.
"Dammit," Bruce growled against Jonathan's stomach. "Not now, Alfred!"
"I'm sorry, Master Wayne, but this is urgent." The door opened.
"Alfred, what the fuck!" Bruce shouted. He yanked the covers over Jonathan, barely getting him shielded before Alfred was fully inside the room.
Mortified, Jonathan grabbed a pillow and pulled it to his chest as well. Despite being fully covered from Alfred's eyes, he felt completely naked and totally vulnerable. His heart pounded and the old tremors snaked through his body until he shook controllably. Awkwardly, he pushed himself to sitting and dragged all the covers and pillows around him, even as Bruce climbed naked out of bed to grab Jonathan's robe, which he draped over Jonathan's shoulders, before pulling his own on.
"You better have a damn good reason for barging in here, Alfred."
Jonathan didn't think he'd ever heard Bruce this angry before. The Bat Man, yes, but Bruce, no. It added to his own distress, causing him to tremble harder.
Alfred didn't look at Jonathan. He kept his eyes on Bruce. "I'm sorry, Master Wayne, but there is a police officer here to see you."
"So? I don't see anyone. The police have no reason…"
"He said if you didn't come down, he would get a warrant in the investigation of Harvey Dent's murder."
Bruce froze. "What?"
Alfred shrugged.
He sighed. "Fine." Bruce pressed his hand to his forehead and sighed again. "I'll be down in a few minutes. Just… go."
"Yes, sir." Alfred left.
Bruce made a sound of frustration as the door closed and fisted his hair. Then, he let out a breath. "You okay?" He turned to Jonathan.
Jonathan swallowed and hugged the pillow tighter to his body. "Yeah." He tried to control his breathing and slow his racing heart. It was so stupid. Jonathan hated for people to see him naked. Bruce and Cherry were the only people allowed. They'd convinced him that he needed to include his doctor in that number and, after years of dragging his feet about getting one, had finally relented, but only if Bruce or Cherry went with him.
Alfred was not allowed to see him naked. Alfred was not allowed to ithink/i about Jonathan being naked, which, up until today, Jonathan thought was a matter they both agreed upon.
Now, that agreement was out the window.
Bruce grabbed his pajama pants off the floor and stepped into them. "I'll see what he wants. It's probably nothing. Don't worry about it." Limping, he made his way to the lamp his shirt hung from.
"What if he arrests you?"
"He won't." Bruce picked up his cane. "I'm sure he's just some young punk, I don't know. Being an ass." He went to the bed and carefully took his robe off Jonathan. "He's not here for you. You are safe."
"It's not about the cop downstairs."
Bruce's face softened. "I know." He leaned forward and kissed Jonathan tenderly. "Take a shower and try to relax. I'll be back soon."
Jonathan waited until the door closed behind Bruce before letting out a long, slow exhale and falling sideways onto the bed. The pleasant, fuzzy euphoria of the past day had been effectively killed and instead of feeling punch drunk in love, he just felt punched.
Maybe someone at the party recognized me… But surely they'd send more than one beat cop to arrest me. Wouldn't they? The mere idea of it was almost enough to make him seethe with rage.
But not quite. So, Jonathan slipped on his robe and stumbled to the bathroom to take a shower. The warm water felt heavenly on his skin, which was rather sticky with sweat and other bodily fluids. He would have liked to linger longer, try to calm down and wash away the sense of rawness from Alfred barging in. But, with a police officer downstairs, he didn't feel safe.
After his shower, Jonathan dressed in a simple skirt and blouse. He blow dried his hair, adding a slight wave before pulling it away from his face with a sparkly headband. His natural hair wasn't long like his wigs, but he kept it long enough to style when he didn't want to wear one. Now that he made decent money, he could afford a good hairdresser who kept it a pretty shade of blonde.
Jonathan added earrings to his ensemble and finished off with some light make-up. It wouldn't hold up under scrutiny, but he didn't plan only letting anyone scrutinize him. He knew from experience he could pass as a woman.
He took a deep breath, ran his palms down his skirt, and left the bedroom. As he walked down the hall past a row of windows, he could see a police car driving away. Immediately, some of the tightness in his chest loosened and he breathed more easily. Increasing his speed, he made it to the top of the stairs and started to descend.
Alfred's voice drifted through the empty house. "Ran it through some databases. He's a mercenary. No other known name. Never been seen or photographed without a mask. He and his men were behind a coup in West Africa that secured mining operations for our friend John Daggett."
Jonathan frowned, wondering who they were talking about. He reached the foot of the stairs as Bruce replied to Alfred before asking about funding for boys' homes.
There's a strange change in topic.
"I need an appointment at the hospital. About my leg." Bruce limped into view from around the corner, leaning heavily on his cane.
"Which hospital, sir?" asked Alfred, following him.
Bruce met Jonathan's eyes as he replied. "Whichever one Jim Gordon's in."
Even though his focus was on Bruce, Jonathan did not miss Alfred's displeased reaction. He knew from Bruce that Alfred wasn't happy with Bruce dipping his toes in the pond of investigation with Selina Kyle. Now Gordon was hurt and there was a mercenary on the loose?
"What's going on?" Jonathan asked when Bruce was close enough.
"Not sure." Bruce put his hand on Jonathan's elbow and tugged, turning him around so they could head back up the stairs. "The cop, John Blake, came to tell me that Gordon was shot."
"Why would he tell you?"
"Kid is smart."
Jonathan shot Bruce a look. "He knew you were the Bat Man?"
"It's still just one word. And, yes. Figured it out years ago when I paid a visit to the orphanage he was staying in."
"I wasn't aware the Bat Man," he said, clipping the words harder than usual, "did charity visits."
Bruce's lips twitched. "No, but Bruce Wayne does. He's going to make one hell of a cop. Anyway. Gordon saw an underground army led by someone named Bane in the sewers, and the force doesn't believe him. Blake wants me to do something about it." He gestured for Jonathan to precede him into the bedroom, and followed, closing the door behind him.
Jonathan sat on the edge of the bed. "So, just like that, you're back in? Rotten knee, fractured arm, pneumonia and all?"
"The arm is healed, I'm done with my antibiotics and, as I proved yesterday, can perform strenuous activity for hours on end." He smirked, causing Joanthan to roll his eyes. "Yes, the knee is a problem, but Fox will have a solution for me." Bruce cupped Jonathan's chin in the palm of his hand. "It might be nothing. But I owe him this."
"You owe the man who's benefitted from your disgrace? He owes you, Bruce. You're the one who took the fall. Who became the villain of the story so Harvey Dent and he could be the heroes." Jonathan shook his head. "You don't owe him anything."
He knew from the look on Bruce's face that his words fell on deaf ears. Jonathan sighed. "What do you want me to do?"
"Right now, nothing. Let me find out what's going on. But be ready to head back to Chicago if it checks out. If there is any army in the sewers, I don't want you here. I want you safe."
Jonathan nodded, even as his heart sank. It was for the best, and he knew it. But, he'd planned to stay for two weeks. It would have been nice to have gotten that.
Bruce kissed Jonathan on the forehead. "I'm going to shower and shave."
"What? I like you with the goatee."
"It's not very Bruce Wayne, billionaire-playboy." Bruce gave him a roguish smile. "Gotta keep up appearances."
Jonathan crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. "Well. If there is a masked man in the sewers, then he better watch out. I may kill him myself for ruining my vacation and messing with my boyfriend's looks."
"Fiancee."
His heart skipped a beat. Jonathan gaped at Bruce a moment before he scrambled together some words. "I… You never asked me that."
Bruce's eyes went wide, and his cheeks turned red. "Oh. Um… Just keep it in mind then. We'll talk later." He started for the bathroom.
Jonathan grabbed a pillow and threw it at him, hitting Bruce in the back. "You are an impossible man!"
"I love you, Sugar!" The bathroom door shut.
A huge smile broke out over Jonathan's face. He fell back on the bed and pressed his hands to his mouth. Don't get too excited. Nothing ever turns out the way you want.
But, right now, he couldn't seem to heed his own warning.