#tibcomm

     The tall red man who’d been so sarcastic, puffing on a cigar as you’d stared wide eyed in horror after watching him obliterate a… thing, was watching you talk with the kind man who was telling you to call him Broom, just Broom. Well you couldn’t do that, and it seemed to both please and amuse him, taking you to the large wall of water to introduce you to the reason for your assignment. A few awkward moments was all it took to become fast friends, most of them on your part. Who held out their hand to shake to someone sequestered behind glass?

     You did, but he hadn’t taken it personal, instead laying a hand against the glass and lightly tapping it, and you did the same in return. Your smile had been genuine, and his delight the same. Occasionally, Big Red, Hellboy, would come to the library with beers to chat with him. Not while you were there, he seemed to be avoiding you, but the smell of his cigars lingered in the air with something else, empty beer cans on the antique desk half crushed.

     Distance makes the heart grow fonder, but mystery makes it curious. An absolute bastardization of the quote, and not even something you’d come up with. That had been your new friend who was on probation Abe. He’d been very amused by your feigned outrage, when you’d looked up from the dirty desk. Apparently you’d look slightly put out about not getting to be involved in the hangout. What made it worse was that you couldn’t even pretend that you hadn’t been trying to either land an invite, or still be there when he came around. 

     He was funny, you’d heard him talking with a few of the agents as he made his way to the truck. And he had a ton of cats, all of which were healthy and cute, so obviously he could not be a bad guy. Animals in general had really good instincts, and you trusted that more than anything else. So maybe you started hanging around late at night, because you couldn’t sleep. And maybe you found reasons to go talk with inventory as they were restocking the truck hoping that he might come around. 

     Considering the cramped quarters kept, it shouldn’t be that hard to run into him, but it was almost like he knew that you were headed that way. A radar if you will, and it was a little… frustrating. Which you did not complain about to Abe, but he knew. And worse he knew that you knew that he- Ugh. After a while you just gave up trying and stuck to the task at hand, which was being there to help Abe read, occasionally crack open the egg jar for him. 

     Flipping through the books, you managed to find one that you knew he hadn’t read, turning to hold it up triumphantly only to run face first into someone. The smell of cigar smoke and something spicy tickling your nose let you know who it was before you’d properly processed. Yet another thing, stumbling back and almost falling over your own feet, catching a brief glimpse of wide eyes before he caught and tugged too hard slamming you right back into his chest. 

“Shit.’

     Nose aching, you stepped back more carefully only to come to an abrupt stop as he was still holding your arm. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough that going anywhere was not an option. Given the way he was staring over your shoulder you couldn’t be sure that he’d even noticed he was still holding on. Verified when he yanked his hand back as if he’d been burned, but you knew he was fire proof, and you were not that hot. 

“I didn’t mea- I just-’ You heard his teeth click as he shut his mouth abruptly, forcibly stopping himself from speaking before looking a little too… “I thought you heard me come in.’

     A minute head shake, wanting to put the new book on the podium for Abe, but also not wanting to be rude. Especially because you’d finally managed to catch him. Well, technically he’d caught you, tucking the book behind you as you managed to offer a smile. The one you got in return made your heart trip, breaking eye contact because it was just a bit too much all at once. Who allowed demons to have dimples? That wasn’t fair. 

“I was uh…’ He shifted back, and you were proud of yourself for not closing that distance again, because you’d wanted to. “I told Abe that I’d be by in case he wanted to play poker instead of reading those boring books of his.’ 

     When you only nodded, he cleared his throat, shoulders rolling before looking over at Abe. Who was just watching, which was not odd, but the way his hand was flattened to the glass was. A little invasive considering his capabilities, feeling your entire body warm at the thought of what he was picking up on, but still very odd. He usually attempted to ask things instead of just gathering the information he sought, though there were slip ups. This was blatant.

“Not that it’s all that fun when he can sense when I’m trying to bluff.’ 

“I do attempt not to do so.’ Abe defended himself, blinking as his gills fluttered in irritation. “You broadcast loudly, we’ve spoken ab-’

“Yeah, yeah.’ Watching his arms cross, you grinned as he leaned down, briefly lifting his hand to hide his lips. “He thinks it’s not cheating but it definitely still is.’

“I do not cheat!’

     You did try not to laugh, really you did. Abe was your friend. But the outrage was clear even through the warbly note of his voice coming through water and glass. Humor shifted to confusion hearing some of the books fall from the shelf, and seeing the very carefully blank expression. Before you could ask a question there was a sharp pain on your ankle, then calf before you could even look down. When you did you were greeted by a very determined kitten clawing its way up your leg, your attempts to pick it up stymied by its claws embedding themselves. 

“Hey, that wasn’t the plan.’ Plan? “You’re early.’

     A thunk against glass shifted your attention to Abe, whose eyes were closed before pushing off the glass and further into the reservoir. The kitten yowled at you as you tugged again, holding the book out to Hellboy in order to be able to use both hands. Last thing you wanted was to hurt it, managing to untangle it to cuddle close to your chest. Except it wasn’t happy there, squirming in an attempt to get loose, little paws digging in as it tried to pry itself loose. 

“I knew I should have asked Chili instead of you.’ Hellboy muttered, attempting to capture the cat currently trying to shove what felt like its entire head into your ear canal. 

“Who’s Chili?’ You winced as claws scraped your ear, and the loud yowl of protest as it attempted to maintain its precariously claimed perch. Wait was he asking you to dinner?

“She’s his sister, but she was asleep and he was climbing all over things.’ Not dinner, briefly disappointed before realizing he’d named a cat Chili. If her brother’s name wasn’t Frito, or Cheese, you were going to be very disappointed. “Queso was supposed to be worn out by now and curled up looking cute.’

     Perfect.

“I don’t think Queso knows how to be tired.’ You pointed out as the kitten twisted and kicked in his hold, gnawing on his thumb with all the ferocity he could muster.

“Yeah well, Con is missing. I’ll find her I’m sure, but I’d have felt bad waking Chili.’ He hissed at a particularly harsh bite from the kitten. “Though I wish I had, stop biting me you little-’

     Chili. Con. Queso. It was so stupid… lifting your hand to cough in order to hide your smile. He had to be joking, that couldn’t be real, except he was holding the kitten, scruffed and glaring into the now docile bundle of fur’s face. 

“So… When was he supposed to pop up?’

     His mouth opened to answer, then snapped expression shifting as the glare he’d been leveling at the cat edged in panic. … What was the kitten early for? What was the kitten supposed to have been doing? You had a ton of questions, and given the way he was now discussing what punishment fit the crime with the kitten you were not going to be getting an answer. Before you could try to ask again Abe appeared in the door, still adjusting the breathing collar. 

“Everything okay?’

“I feel as if I should be asking that.’ 

     Blink. Now what did that mean? But he was moving towards a book shelf and tugging at a book insistently. Instead of coming off the shelf, the whole set swung off the shelf showing a compartment inside. You had not been informed that was there, moving to get a better look inside, you were disappointed when it closed with a click before you could. Was this their secret stash from Mr. Broom?

     Did that mean you were obligated to tell him, eyeing the deck of cards and small bag you assumed held poker chips. The scrape of chair legs, and the feel of something lightly bumping into the back of your knees, almost made you fall. A brief glimpse of Hellboy’s tail explained it even as you plopped down with a surprised grunt. That was really nice of him, smiling to yourself as you scooted closer to the research table that was emptier than it had been a moment ago. 

     In the paper and books place were several cans of beer and a jar of Abe’s eggs. A soft crinkling noise preceded several rolled bags of chips, clearly brought from his room. As well as a kitten set with a snort of amusement. 

“Found Con.’

“Hi Con.’ You cooed, bending down to rest your chin on the table, watching the kitten squint eyed inspect its surroundings before waddling to head butt your nose. “Still tired?’

     The wet nose kisses made you laugh, feeling her work her way under your chin before making an attempt to crawl inside your shirt. Apparently Con was still sleepy, and after being evicted from Hellboy’s coat pocket was looking for a new place to sleep. When you looked up to remark on it, your eyes met the demon who was staring intently before his head snapped aside to ask Abe if he was dealing first. 

     You forgot you were supposed to be stopping a kitten from crawling down your shirt until that cold nose skimmed the skin far lower than it should be. The yelp you let out earned you a snort from Hellboy, that he pretended hadn’t happened, caging Queso in his stone hand as he cracked open a beer with the other. The sound of it sliding over the table top made you smile, still attempting to excavate the kitten, before your mind placed the sound to action. 

     Two hands full of kitten who was surprisingly squirmy for being so “tired” meant by the time your mind translated the sound you could only look up and watch as it slid towards you, to you, past you, to fall off the table with a crack of aluminum against hardwood. Frozen, you looked back to Hellboy whose mouth was slack, before standing in a rush to try and clean the mess. Which released the kitten who fell down the front of you under the shirt, claws frantically seeking purchase. 

     Catching it low, teeth grit as claws clung to the minimal purchase their claws had found in fabric and skin, you tried to soothe the small bundle under your shirt. Tongue lightly clicking as you tried to think of how to clean up the beer once Abe had delicately plucked the can from the floor, you watched something black sail past your face. Foot dragging it towards the mess, you worked Con loose while mopping with the familiar looking fabric. 

“Here.’ 

     Shifting Con to one hand, Queso was shoved into the other, both pinned to your stomach as you stepped back to make room for the body gently shoving you aside. Then took a couple more as you stared at the broad expanse of Hellboy’s back as he squatted down to chase a trickle you’d missed. Head lifting slowly to look at Abe you could see his exasperation, pushing the jar aside to grab a beer. Which said more than any words or tone could have managed. 

     You shouldn’t stare, really it was just rude, but it was hard to look away as the muscle shifted. And then there was the twitch at his lower back as his tail moved, which was a whole different interesting. Tucking the kittens on either side of your neck, you stepped back again as he stood, shirt balled and cupped in his hand looking for somewhere to put it. So much effort went into not making a sound when he finally sighed and dropped it into a trash can, turning your face to hide it in Con’s fur. 

     Wordlessly Abe slid him his beer as he sat, and you held out Con who was by far the more well behaved of the two. Your stomach itching like crazy notwithstanding, you would also have panicked if you’d gone from secured to free fall. At the very least all the excitement had worn Queso out who now lay draped across your thigh, belly up and paws reaching for no one knew what. Occasionally reaching down to lightly massage his belly until he rolled over to deny you access with the cutest grumble you’d ever heard. 

“You should clean those wounds to avoid infection.’ Abe said after taking the pot again, Hellboy taking his half finished beer with a nod. 

“I have a kit in my room,’ before you could point out there was one here in the library, Abe flicked the tip of your fingers with his own. “I didn’t realize they’d be so rowdy, the least I can do is help patch you up.’

     Sending a quizzical look towards Abe who was already cleaning off the table, he jerked his head in Hellboy’s direction and you trotted to catch up to him. It was later than you’d realized, the hallway emptier than you’d ever seen it. A bit eerie, kissing the top of Queso’s head as he fidgeted to quiet him, entering his room before you’d realized that you had. 

     His hand caught your elbow to stop you from knocking over a pile of- Well you weren’t actually sure what that was, having gotten immediately distracted by the sheer amount of fur that had come towards you in a meowing tide. You’d heard he liked cats, not that he was obsessed, watching as he tossed his coat towards the bed before rummaging on a surface to find the kit. Did the government grants not cover maids?

“I didn’t plan on you getting all scratched up like that.’ Flipping the kit open, not that you’d seen where he’d magically located it, he motioned to your shirt. “Up, please.’

“Wait, what do you mean “plan”? And why was Queso early?’

     He was quiet so long you thought he wasn’t going to answer, using a disinfectant wipe to clean the scratches. But as he was smearing the ointment he sighed, head turning briefly to scowl at the siblings all curled up on his jacket. 

“Queso was supposed to nap in the library, and then later you were supposed to find him because he was being a brat. Which as you can see he excels at.’ You nodded, though he was very obviously not looking up at you. “And then you were gonna bring him back, and we’d talk, and you’d think he was so cute you wouldn’t think about how I look.’

“I like the way you look.’

“Then I was gonna ask you ou-’ His face lifted to look at you so quickly your neck twinged in sympathy. “What’s that?’

“Okay.’

“No, wait the other thing.’ Standing now, an uncertain smile on his lips, he tugged your shirt down over the bandaged scratches. “Doesn’t matter. You wanna go on a date with me?’

“I, uh, yeah.’ The proximity along with that shy smile just fucked you up. “Where were you thinking?’

“.... I didn’t think I’d get this far actually, gimme a minute.’ The laugh that startled out of you broadened the smile into a grin. “To be fair my plan fell apart like right away.’

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     Please what, Clark? Bite me, fuck me, use me. His cheeks flushed at the answer to his own question wanting to leave, to shove the other man away and go somewhere cold. Alone. He hated feeling needy, another low sound as a hand slammed into his ribs, pushing him back against the wall he hadn’t knowingly moved away from. Bruce could hurt him, really hurt him, Clark’s stomach churning from the alien stone’s presence too close by. 

     When Bruce’s hand moved upwards, pressing, molding the flesh beneath his hand Clark couldn’t help arching up into that touch letting out a soft cry as teeth bit his lower lip. Please let me go. They couldn’t do this here, though he didn’t break the kiss, didn’t try to get away choking on a noise as finger and thumb tweaked on a thinly covered nipple almost too sharply, too soon. 

“Bru-’ Another tweak, Clark slumping lower on the wall as his legs threatened to give out beneath him. 

“Batman, then!’ He managed to snap, though his ragged breathing stole some of the reprimand from his tone. “We can’t do this here. Just let me-’

     Another kiss, this one just as bruising as the first had been, his fingers digging into the brickwork at his back before opening his mouth beneath the onslaught. It helped a little, feeling fabric dragging from his shoulder, stretching, before a tear met his ears feeling the impersonal touch against flushed skin. The invasion wasn’t near as demanding as the chaste press had been, tongue tentatively toying with Bruce’s. 

     There wasn’t a feel of teeth, which he’d half been expecting, his right wrist still throbbing from when Bruce had smacked his hand away when Clark had reached out for him. He could feel the fabric still tearing, meeting the symbol and following the threading. They really couldn’t do this here, someone was going to see the bright colours he wore. A flash of red cape behind the menacing silhouette of Bruce’s form. A curve of blue knee when he inevitably managed to get a leg hooked around Bruce, his heel probably having caught that damned cape. 

“Anyone could see.’ Clark managed to hiss. 

     But he didn’t need the press of Bruce’s thumb to turn his head, exposing his neck as the prickling drag of stubble scratched at the corner of his mouth, his jaw, body shifting trying to press closer. Please, please, please. Teeth at his neck, pain dull and burning before it mingled with the pleasure, a sharp suck at the abused flesh drew a noise from his mouth that he didn’t know how to label. It was almost a sob, too much and not enough, counting in an attempt to organize his chaotic thoughts. 

“Are you- Are you trying to make me-’

     He couldn’t even offer bravado effectively, biting his lower lip as a moan almost escaped him feeling the press of the cowl against his jaw. The air was cool against his neck, staring into blue eyes, the backs of his hands aching from where they’d smacked into the wall. It wasn’t as if he could help wanting to touch, to find something to ground himself with, Bruce’s hands unforgiving cuffs around his wrists. Clark hadn’t even felt him move, or seen it happen. Hell, he didn’t recall moving to touch Bruce, but apparently he had. 

“I’ll behave.’ Hoarse whisper to answer the unvoiced question, he kept his hands where Bruce had slammed them though the other man’s hands slid down his arms. 

     Fingers curled uselessly, there was nothing to hold on to, Rao but he wished there was his breath leaving him in a huff of air as Bruce’s hands continued that hard press as if he were attempting to map every inch of Clark. In the dark I would know him, at the end of days. He didn’t remember where he’d heard that, or read it, but he felt almost exposed though he was still mostly clothed. A deep breath as Bruce’s hands reached his ribs, pressing into that touch, arching into it only to have the other man push harder. 

     Fuck the people who might walk into the alley, fingers slowly pressing into the brick that cracked at the points of imprint and trickled dust into his hair and on his shoulders. As hands gripped his hips Clark almost let out a soft sob of relief feeling the other’s body press against his own, the way he could feel the imprint of Bruce’s fingers through the gloves scoring his skin like brands. Shamelessly he rocked his hips for the friction, finally, a trickle of relief that did nothing to cool the fire that was roaring beneath his skin. 

“Down.’

    There wasn’t a flicker of hesitation as Clark dropped to his knees, his legs had been feeling weak anyways. It was only after his knees hit the damp concrete that he flushed, refused to look upwards at the man was staring down at him. With what? Amusement, approval, distaste, pity? Fingers in his hair forced his head to tilt back, his lids falling closed as his chin lifted. He didn’t want to know actually, the more that he thought about it. A nudge of a knee, Clark giving a minute shake of his head, no he was good, it really wasn’t necessary. 

“Look at me.’

    Lids slowly opening, Clark stared at the Bat symbol on the other man’s chest. Taling, technically following the direction he was provided. He was looking, just not at the man’s face. The fingers in his hair twisted pulling a low gasp from him, his hands moving to rest on Bruce’s thighs just above the knee. He could get away, if he needed to, but Rao help him he didn’t want to, leaning forward despite the hold Bruce had in his air to rest his forehead against the other man’s hip. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Look. At. Me.’

    Reluctantly, Clark looked up and hated the feeling of blood hot in his cheeks, knew that his lower lip was still glossy from their kiss and swollen from his own teeth. But there wasn’t a single hint as to what the other man was thinking. Using the brief respite on the unspoken order not to touch, Clark’s fingers slid up Bruce’s thigh and felt a rush of need feeling them tense even though the protection  covering them. Trying to pull himself together, Clark closed his eyes again, taking in slow steady breaths which actually had the opposite effect. 

     He could smell the hint of cologne from Bruce’s time out as his personality, the lie he showed the world so he could safely take to the rooftops  at night. There was the scent of blood, he’d been injured before finding Clark, and the familiar scent of ointment and sweat. Which wouldn’t make his mouth water, and yet he could feel it pooling beneath his tongue, fingers tightening and feeling fabric giving slightly as thread separated. That wasn’t right, opening his eyes and looking up to see Bruce’s face and throat exposed. The button up shirt undone, the bowtie a loose length of fabric that hung from his neck. 

     Beneath his hands was expensive fabric, and there was a tinge to the air he didn’t understand at first before realizing the colour he was seeing was a red haze. It was worse now, that need that had been hammering at his self control, there were more layers now, but they’d tear easily, even if he'd been lessened by red sun lamps. Hating himself for it, Clark's hands moved upwards and began working on Bruce’s belt, tugging it open and immediately working on the fastener and then the zipper.

    As he leaned forward, the fingers that were in his hair tightened, twisted harshly and the noise that came from his throat made the flush of his cheeks brighter. Do that again, he wanted to beg, feeling Bruce’s grip ease for a moment, Clark’s tongue leaving his mouth and shamelessly straining for the hint of skin he’d uncovered. There, a sigh of pleasure feeling the pinpricks of pain from hairs pulled too tightly, his fingers digging into Bruce’s thighs. 

“Please.’ The word was whined, and Clark tried to pull back, to create distance, his gaze dropping from Bruce’s to look at the standing dresser. 

     When the fingers in his hair loosened, he could feel what little colour had left his face come rushing back, leaning in close to press a kiss to Bruce’s stomach, hands smoothing upwards to curl his fingers around the waistband of expensive slacks. There was a taste of salt and soap on his tongue as he licked the curved top of cock as he slowly worked the fabric down. Using his tongue to curve beneath the length, Clark ran the slick muscle along the underside slowly working his reward loose. Sucking at the precum that beaded at the tip, he couldn’t help grinning when the fingers in his hair flexed. 

     Those little things, the uncalculated movements, those where the things that threw his libido into chaos. Bruce was always in control, always had a plan, and a contingency after contingency if it should fail. Small unconscious reactions hit Clark harder than most aphrodisiacs he’s been subjected to. Slowly sliding his mouth down the length he’d guided to his mouth, Clark let out a low moan in his throat. He liked giving, he liked taking, but he lived for the reactions he could illicit when giving. It was a type of control without having any, pulling back slightly as he rolled his eyes up to look at Bruce’s face.

     There, the flutter of his lashes as he tried to keep his expression blank when Clark sucked his way back down and lightly applied teeth to the base. The brief clench of jaw as Clark opened his mouth and pulled away so the thick cock slowly dragged along the flat of his tongue. If he hadn’t already been so hard he was aching, that small flinch of muscle would have done it. Short nails digging into Bruce’s thighs, he held those icy hues with his own and slowly bit down on the head of Bruce’s cock until the other’s stomach muscles twitched fighting the urge to pull back. Or thrust forward, Clark barely opening his mouth in time to avoid dragging his teeth down the shaft. The head of Bruce’s slid along the roof of Clark’s mouth, the kneeling man pressing the tip of his tongue into the underside against the spongy body. 

“Is that all you want?’ The question was asked as Bruce slowly thrust in and out. “Nothing else?’

    A loaded question, there were a lot of things that Clark wanted, staring up at Bruce through his lashes. This wasn’t bad, he considered, feeling the slow steady thrust of cock in and out of his mouth. Even his hands had slowly slid down, swallowing to keep from letting saliva spill out the corners of his mouth. It was self indulgent, and he was sure there was some interesting psychology at play. But all he cared about was the slow, careful glide of Bruce’s cock into his mouth, sliding along the hard roof of his mouth to soft palette. Catching the head of his cock when it was just moving past his teeth, Clark grinned at the gasp that pulled from the other man. 

“What if I want something else?’ 

    The words were so low that Clark briefly had a moment where his brain stopped working, the gravel and bass sending blood rushing to lower anatomy leaving him shifting slightly on his knees. Maybe, maybe he wanted something else, though he was loathe to relinquish the precum that continued to bead out onto the glans. Blinking in surprise when fingers twisted sharply, Clark stared up at Bruce confused, his mouth closing slightly, tongue chasing the bitter taste in his mouth as the other slowly lowered on his haunches.

“What if I wanted to fuck you?’ 

    Oh… The way he said fuck implied something, the way he stared at him with that sloppy smirk on his lips made Clark’s flip flop. Tilting his head slightly, his eyes shut half way as Bruce pulled him back, leaving his throat exposed. 

“Don’t nod, I want to hear you say it.’ There was a chill in the words that raised goosebumps on his skin, Clark licking lips that suddenly felt too dry. “Go on, Kent. Ask me to fuck you.’

“Bruce…’

“It’s not negotiable.’ There was the iron in his tone, but his breath was warm as he leaned in, Clark’s fingers flexing as he fought the urge to reach out to try and persuade him. “The longer you wait, the more desperate you’re going to have to sound for me to do it.’

     He did try, the words mouthed more than spoken, but he hated the shame that made him break eye contact under the guise of covering his mouth with a closed fist to cough. Working his tongue in his mouth, he took in a breath that he let out through his nose. 

“Fuck me.’

“Try again.’ 

     Uncalled for, looking down at the fingers that had dipped beneath torn fabric, trailing along his skin leaving heat in their wake. 

“Please? Please fuck me.’ When Bruce shook his head, leaning closer, well manicured nails dragging down Clark’s chest prompting a sharp inhale, Clark felt a flicker of frustration. “It took me maybe five seconds to say it.’

“I think my attentions are worth a little begging, Kent.’ Stubble scraped along his own, sending shivers racing across his skin. A kiss to the skin below his ear, a flick of tongue a little lower, a graze of teeth over his pulse. “Don’t you?’

     Yes, absolutely, of course. The immediate rush of agreement through his body startled a huff of laughter out of him, that swiftly shifted to a whine as Bruce bit down like he meant to leave an imprint of his teeth that wouldn’t heal. Hands moving of their own accord, Clark struggled between wanting to push him away because it had hurt, and pull him closer because that hand had reached his pectoral and was lightly moving its thumb back and forth over his nipple. 

“Bruce please,’ his breath caught as Bruce worried at the spot, sucking and biting until Clark writhed. “Please fuck me, please.’

“Selina… I think Clark is having a wet dream.’ Lois shifted, lips pressing together as she realized what had been niggling the back of her mind for the past five minutes trying not to burst out laughing. “He just moaned Bruce’s name.’

“Oh.’ Green eyes brightened on the screen, Selina rolling onto her back to show the man in question asleep. She might have had to drug him to get that way, but he was sleeping. “If he starts muttering about Clark or Superman, I will let you know immediately.’

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     While he was happy to see her, he recognized the mistake of relaxing his guard, the comfort he took in the presence of the other turning on him. Could feel the very thing he’d been so focused on keeping at bay sink its claws into him, chest rising and falling as he tried to breathe around rush of arousal. It didn’t help that he was familiar with her body, knew exactly which places to kiss and touch and nuzzle. Knew how to coax out the intoxicating soft noises, and drag the gut deep moans. 

     Feeling her tuck close, his fingers curled into fists as he struggled not to react, not that she seemed to notice, her own hands stroking over him as though to ensure herself he was real. He was, and feeling every inch of his skin as it reacted to the wash of warm breath against his throat, her chest pressing him as her spine curved to tuck closer. The way her fingers plucked at the fabric as if she’d known a shy moment since their first sexual encounter. 

     He wanted to tell her to stop. Not because it was unpleasant, it was too pleasant, feeling the flex of tissue and the growing damp patch as precum leaked from the tip. Felt his head lowering before he recognized the motion, lips brush the damp skin at her temple, the curve of her cheek. A soft squeak of protest as his hand ran down her back before splaying across her ass to squeeze. Again, as he guided her hips to roll, feeling the fabric over his stomach dampen. 

“We should leave.’

     Half hearted at best, feeling her body shiver, the way she scrambled to climb him, letting out a shameless noise as he set her on his thigh and rubbed the split of her cheeks through the fabric. When he shifted his hand away the dismayed noise that escaped her made it hard to think, struggling for a semblance of self control that usually came so easily to him. Teeth sank into her shoulder as he slid his hand under the barrier, tip of his middle finger pressing against her anus with a groan. 

     Courtesy and sense required preparation, but both of them were in short supply. The dregs of each leaking though the cracks in his resolve to overcome the intruder wreaking havoc with his system. Not that Odette was helping, pressing back against the questing touch, shamelessly attempting to impale herself on it with soft whimpers. Pleas, begging, promises of good behaviour and forgiveness. 

     And how was a man already mired in the muddled muck of arousal meant to ignore such things?

“Tell me again.’ Pressing against eagerly yielding flesh, thrusts shallow at the awkward angle.

     Not that one would tell with the way Odette's hips stuttered as they rocked, teeth hooking his collarbone and gnawing softly. He loved the loss of coherency even as the volume increased, half sentences that trailed off into whines, the soft grunts of punctuation as she ground against his thigh. The way she shuddered as she came, as she kept grinding regardless, slumping to offer better access, tongue lathing over peaked nipple through his shirt before nibbling. 

     Not an ounce of fear, or concern, despite the fact he could easily harm her, was probably going to reaching down with his other hand to grind the heel of his palm along his length in an attempt to try and stay the inevitable. Feeling her hand atop his shoving, pushing it away as she yanked impatiently at the ties. The soft, almost reverent exclamation as she tugged until she freed the length of him from the trousers he wore. 

     Hips jerked, the almost too sharp pleasure feeling her toy with the leaking slit, wrapping around the glans to squeeze. He burned, and she was doing nothing to bank the fire trickling through him in place of common blood. The cry that escaped her as he worked a second finger inside her, forcing space as he continued to thrust into her. Too tight for him by far, and not near slick enough for a third finger. Frustration sparked under his skin, pulling them loose in spite of her protests. She was okay, it was fine, keep going. 

     Except he couldn’t, not at this angle, grabbing the back of her shirt to yank her back. Ignoring the frustrated yanks at his clothing, impotent attempts to pull herself closer, Bane stood and almost strangled her when she dropped to her knees in anticipation. Fuck. Felt the swell of an orgasm rise surprising him almost before he could shove it back down. Giving her a shake to disorientate her, stop her from grasping the waistband of his pants to yank them down, he tossed her in the direction of the cot. 

     He’d been expecting some sort of retaliation, for her temper to rise and send her flying back towards him. Knees weakened as she all but collapsed over it, shucking her trousers and reaching down to squeeze, using the slick fluid to smear across her own hole before pushing in. The needy whine slithered through the room, needled his skin, sank beneath it like hooks and dragged him towards her. Hooking her hip with his fingers he pulled, forcing her onto her tiptoes, contorting to continue fingering herself until he dragged his own leaking glans against the back of her fingers. 

“Move.’

     Not enough prep, tissue resistant, even if Odette was willing, pressing back as his hips pressed forward. Felt her shudder as she orgasmed again, keeping her upright easily as he rocked his hips, felt her body give a little at a time. Felt his breath catch as if the orgasm were a physical thing that slammed into his gut, free hand slamming down onto the cot, bunching the fabric in his hand as he came. Muttering a curse he continued thrusting once the rictus passed, though he wasn’t blessed with the limp relief usually following such a thing. 

     Another inch, hard won, basking in the nonsensical babbling, the way she squirmed caught between attempting to be helpful, and her body’s instinctive self preservation trying to get away. Laughed as her legs kicked, unsure if it was to remove the clothing, or because she’d lost her footing. Didn’t matter, yanking her closer and feeling her body briefly go limp in surprise allowing another hard won half inch that curved her spine. 

     Pulling his hips back, he had to shift his grip to press against her spine to keep her in place after she attempted to follow. Felt the groan that pulled from her as if he were pulling more than the girth that dragged along her walls before thrusting forward again. She could take him, had before, many times, and she would do so again, pulling back before thrusting in sharply again. The soft sobs might have managed to wedge their way beneath the heavy weight of his lust if not for the shameless way she licked and sucked at his thumb near her head as if it were a different piece of his anatomy. 

     Easy to slide her farther onto the bed, allowing her hips higher, feeling the way she pressed her ankle against the back of his thigh as he leaned. All but crumpling her beneath his weight as he persevered, feeling her shiver against him as he finally managed to fully sheathe his cock inside her. Felt the way she clenched around him, her breathing shallow and fast as he flexed inside her, gently rocking his hips feeling stuck as she came again with a hoarse scream. 

“Again.’

     It wasn’t a question, but her sluggish nod in agreement sent a wash of arousal through him that stole the last flickers of compassion from him. Head falling back with a groan as his hands settled on her hips to hold her in place, pulling back and thrusting forward hard enough he felt bone shift beneath flesh from the impact. Not that he stopped, he couldn’t, hips snapping as he sought to sink in deeper, to be fully encompassed in that tight wet heat. 

     The small aches she’d left in her wake throbbed like wounds, his fingertips unforgiving as they bit into slick flesh to avoid slipping. When he came again it felt like sinking into scalding water, a good hurt, using his hands to push her away as he pulled back, only to yank her towards him as he thrust in. She was so small, tight despite the abuse he was heaping on her. And the noise he forced from her twined around the thick meaty sounds of their flesh slapping together. 

     Ears buzzing as he struggled to breathe as he came again, half collapsing on her, scooting her forward to brace a knee on the cot. Any other time, the way she curled might have been humorous, seeing her shoulderblades press against skin like wings. The way she looked over her shoulder at him through a tangle of damp curls with a flicker of fear. But here, cocooned in the dark of Arkham, throat parched with need, his hips snapping and making her body jolt? 

     That flicker of fear left an aftertaste of chocolate, lightly salted, on the back of his tongue, sent shivers along his spine. A rush of need so fierce it stabbed into his lower belly like a dull blade, twisted there, feeling the squelch of his entry as fluids began to trickle down her thighs when he came again. 

     And again. 

     Her gaze was hazy before he managed to slow, having been coaxed from the bed to half slide, half crawl up the wall. Crushed against it as he ground into her while his hands greedily stroked, groped, pinched every inch of her within reach when fucking her wasn’t enough. And even that was not enough, feeling her flinch as he dipped his hand between her legs to toy with her little bells, her clit weeping and dragging along his palm. 

     Just one more, he lied to himself, feeling no relief, only a deep sweltering need that relentlessly pushed him to seek another orgasm. As if his testicles didn’t already ache, cock raw and burning from the non ceasing friction. How many times? He didn’t know, but it didn’t matter when it wasn’t enough, causing small hurts against her flesh in his frustration that would blossom into dark angry bruises later. A dry orgasm, letting his breath out on a sob as the flesh began to go flaccid. 

     Finally. 

     He disliked the rush of fluid he felt running down his thighs as he pulled his softening cock from her body. Even more so that he felt an ache in his cock at the trickle of fluid squeezed from it at the sensation. The fact that though he couldn’t maintain an erection did not stop the gnawing hunger twisting inside him, slowly backing off the cot, lips pressing kisses down Odette’s spine. Hearing her pleased murmur made him feel a little guilty now that the majority of the haze had cleared, paying particular attention to the areas already red and hot to the touch. 

“Again?’

     Surely not, watching the drunken wobble she showcased in place of a lascivious wiggle, his hand smoothing over her hip. But the way she pleaded… if he were capable he would, grinning against her back as her lower back curved, trembling thighs barely capable of keeping her upright. A low grunt, feeling blood rush to his already tender cock as she pressed against it. Ground back until it settled half hard between her cheeks, then rocked her hips with a low satisfied hum. 

“Again.’

    This time it was a demand, rasped from a throat that had to be as raw as the rest of her. Smoothing his hand over one slick ass cheek before lightly prodding at swollen flesh. It couldn’t be comfortable, slick as it was with semen, but the shameless moan she let out made him ache, cock flexing briefly. As if they hadn’t just fucked him dry, slowly sliding his finger in as nuzzled the crook of Odette’s neck, taking in the musky scent of someone truly well fucked. 

     Another finger when she wiggled impatiently, bracing his weight on the wall to avoid collapsing on her at the sharp pain as more blood fled south. Hard again, but it hurt, the endorphins only capable of so much. Her lack of rhythm should have been funny, been a balm of humor, but it only made it harder to breathe as the urge to thrust back into her became a consuming drive. Another couldn’t hurt, might help the hurt, the thoughts jumbling as the sharp pinpricks of pain from her nails on her arm distracted him. 

     Once more would help, letting out a low groan as she tugged at his arm until he pulled his hand from the wall and settled it against her throat. He could feel her pace thumping steadily under his ring finger, jumping when he twisted his fingers deeper and ground his knuckles against her prostate. He could feel the rattle of her breath as it was pulled and released through a throat raw and dry. There were other warm places for his cock, that wouldn’t harm her as much as his fucking her again. 

     A selfish thought, but a caring one in the right light, he argued with himself feeling her fingers lightly scratching at his thighs. Would it not be kinder to coat her throat in order to soothe it, fucking her faster as he pulled her tight against his chest, watching her pant as she tried to focus on his face. And failed, though he was sure Odette thought she was looking directly at him.

“Your poor throat, mi vida…’

     She nodded, clutching at his arm as she shuddered, going limp when he pulled his fingers free. His head felt light, that was the reason he laid down with her sprawled across his chest, cock hard and aching against her knee. The fact he didn’t ask, knowing she’d taken the brunt of his attentions in spite of his best effort to keep from letting his full weight collapse on top of her with each orgasm, should be admirable. The fact that his hips did the asking for him, shifting to drag the sticky length of cock against her skin, taking deeper than normal breaths as a hint to move lower, was less so. 

     Except he felt no guilt, only a mild eagerness as she slowly shimmied her way to nestle between his thighs. And he did make sure she was comfortable, which had to count for something, as his head fell back with a relieved sigh. The gnawing ache was settling again, legs tensing briefly as she wrapped her hand around his cock and slowly squeezed upwards. His hips rocked upwards when she propped herself up on the elbow digging into her thigh. 

     When he managed to look down he stared as she let her mouth fall open, saliva spilling over her tongue as she gently massaged the glans. Watched as she sucked gently on her cheeks before doing it again, and again, before taking the head of his cock into her mouth. He’d been so sure there wasn’t anything left to give, just a greedy body ignoring logic in search of pleasure. That the overstimulation would peak before he did. 

     But even as he’d settled against the thin mattress he felt the first claws of an orgasm attempting to tear through his belly. Watched as Odette continued to suckle at the tip of his cock as she stroked his shaft, watching him from beneath heavy lidded eyes. When had she started lethargically humping his leg? He didn’t know, but the squeeze of her legs around his as she moaned sent him tumbling. Knowing that her body still begged for even a sip of the precious pleasure he’d foisted onto her shredded caution, watching her cheeks hollow as she sucked harder. 

     Briefly blind was new, he didn’t hate it, outside of the fact that it made the already too intense sensations sharper. Clarified them as it left him no choice but to focus on the lightning harsh rush of pleasure that forced his back to arch as his sweet Odette played part of demon dragging out the pleasure longer than he’d have done for himself. Collapsing when she finally stopped sucking, shifting to rest her cheek on his lower belly as she toyed with the still hard flesh. Dammit. 

“Again?’ 

     The exhaustion in her voice shouldn’t have made him preen, proud of himself, but it did. And it wasn’t as if she fought him when he reached down to guide his cock back to her mouth despite the ache low in his belly like a cramp yet to release. Just one more would be enough. Right?

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     But not too soon he hoped, it was the first time he’d seen her rest in far too long. Peacefully, at least, the heat scorching through her body had made it impossible for her to find any comfort. A soft hiss reaching his ears, pulling his hand away to stalk towards the kitchen to turn off the heat before the kettle began to scream. The strong herbs made his nose itch, but it was helping, he knew it to be so. 

     His hands lifted, curled into fists at the sound of items falling. It would be nice to bleed off some of his frustration on someone foolish enough to have broken into the place he’d procured for himself and Odette. His expression began to clear when he saw Odette leaning against the door jamb, only to darken realizing the noise must have been her falling from the bed. That would not do. 

“Cuidate, mi vida.’ Setting the tea down on the table, he held up his hand to stall her attempting to traverse further from her sick bed. “Take care, your fever has only just broken. You should not be attempting to do anything, my life.’

     The scowl was hard to suppress, he’d been very clear on the fact she was going to rest and then they would find somewhere better to settle. Gaze flicking towards the window, he sneered at the layer of frost that still coated the glass and frame. Someone had upset the abominable snowman and the rest of Gotham suffered, most specifically his little one in her sewers attempting to care for her children. 

     Their children. 

“Ya weren’t in da bed.’ She rasped, coughing in an attempt to clear her throat. 

     Stubborn, his lips curled fondly as she glared in his direction, scrubbing at her eyes with the hard bone of her knuckle. Something she had not been able to do, and he was currently powerless to stop until he got close enough to capture her wrist. A trap, feeling her head thunking against his chest, fingers scrabbling at him as if she had the strength to climb him. Which he allowed, a gentle punishment for not listening, risking harm to herself. 

     Sighing, he picked her up and waited for her to get comfortable on his arm, chin nuzzling against her hair as she muttered something he couldn’t quite catch. Well, perhaps he could set her on a chair, and leave her to slowly drink the tea hot while he changed the bedding. It would be just his luck that as she was on the mend that the illness he seemed to finally have chased off would return with a vengeance.

     Not that it was an immediate option, with the way she was clinging to him, shivering now that she was no longer tucked beneath as many blankets as he could find in an attempt to make her body sweat the sick out. Sniffing, he kissed her hair, perhaps a cleaning as well, hand smoothing along her back as she finally settled. There was still honey to be added to the tea, clover honey, which he’d had had to beg from Pamela who’d been far too amused by his request. 

     It was good that she was so small, or perhaps he so large, as he shifted her weight to his side. The way she set her teeth on his collarbone made his chest swell with affection, though she was apparently too tired to gnaw on it. He’d long since gotten used to her nibbling at him as though he were some treat she needed to consume. A craving to fulfill, and she in turn allowed him the same courtesy. Though his need for her took a far heavier toll if he didn’t restrain himself. 

“I need to change the bed, corazón.’ As if they’d been having the conversation together, and not his making plans on her behalf. It was a terrible habit, though he wasn’t sure it would be one that he would ever be able to fully bring himself to breaking. “And you will sit here to drink your tea.’

     He’d been wrong, she did have the strength to bite, though he noted it was not nearly as hard as it could be. Still, spirit! Another good sign that she was on the mend, and that soon her temper would return. He enjoyed watching her attempt to punch up, on occasion, to those who spent so often underestimating her. Should he ever manage to teach her how to control her tempter, she would be truly dangerous to Gotham. 

     Little claws pricked his calves as her children picked up on her distress, making their own known, small punishments for so heinous a crime. Sending them a warning look, he spent far longer than he had planned not only untangling her limbs from him, but assuring her that it would be a quick separation. The tremble of her lower lip almost melted his resolve, the wounded expression stabbing him directly in the heart.

     And though he peppered her face with kisses, and murmured many promises that he would be quick, he could feel her gaze following him. The sadness heavy on his shoulders, in spite of the fact it was a necessity, hung like the clinging Gotham fog. Though it eased slightly hearing a very loud sniffle, hiding a smile she had no way of seeing. It was very clear she thought he had not heard the first one, a soft pathetic thing meant to tell him without words how cruel he was being to her. 

     When she was sick no less, he could hear her wailing though her throat did not allow for it. So dramatic, pulling open the closet and gently shifting a few rats from the clean sheets to make the bed. Pausing to lightly rub their full bellies, he was rewarded by pleased nibbles, and then ignored as they sought to recomfort themselves. He did have a moment’s pause when after removing the bedding it began to move on its own. 

     He was ill prepared to see that several of the rats had taken it upon themselves to remove the soiled linen, still damp in places with sweat, and reeking of sickness. The laughter that escaped him was loud, almost unfamiliar after spending so long quiet to allow her the rest needed. His voice relegated to soothing murmurs, and hushed assurances, all unfamiliar but worth the effort to see the furrow of her brow ease. To watch the taut lines of her body soften to rest against his. 

     How odd to be so trusted as protector, nurturer, when he was known for his violence. Callused hands accustomed to vicious acts learning to touch tenderly and feel remorse in failing to do so. She had taught him much, and it was little enough to not only nurse her back to health, but assure her comfort. As she provided him with no effort on her part, tucking the sheet at the corners, the execution was perfect given the ridiculously high standards that had been forced on him while imprisoned.

     Now the only chains that held him were hers, and they were no hardship, silken as they were. Tossing the pillows haphazardly back on the bed realizing he’d forgotten pillow cases, distracted as intended by her sad noises, forcing himself not to berate himself for the mistake. Another hard to change habit she pushed for him to change, not wanting him to be mean to someone she cared for. Loved. He paused, hand rubbing against his sternum, feeling the steady thump of his own heart there. 

     Well it had been his, feeling a smile curl his lips, twisting his hand to look at the thin metal band. Thumb tapping against the skin, he stared at the ring, remembering how she’d glowed sliding it on for him. Another pointedly loud sniffle made him chuckle, though he had to stifle it as a few rats scurried into the room. Little paws placed themselves firmly atop his feet as they chittered up at him, he did not require assistance translating that he was taking too long.

     Attempting to look properly chastised, he gently shooed them aside and moved to the bathroom, turning on the shower to allow the water to heat. Little paws scrambled, taking advantage of the running water to roll along the bottom and clean themselves before scurrying back out. He wasn’t sure what their plan was, but appreciated their effort to clean themselves before doing so, pushing the sweat pants he’d been wearing off and kicking them near the sink.

     Face surprisingly dry considering the aggressively loud sniffles he’d been hearing, Bane was rewarded with a look of shock on her precious features. Where she’d been slumped on the table a moment ago, she was upright now. Arms lifting after an aborted attempt to rise, he toyed with the idea of acting as though he were turning the kettle back on, but the way her face lit up as he got closer dissuaded him. It was still a surprise each time, the adoration like sun filtering through the overcast of the city. 

     So of course he couldn’t torment her any further, not when she glowed like his own personal sun beam. Not when she didn’t flinch away from the size of him, made more nightmarish by his reputation for violence. Not when she slumped like a rag doll, honoring him with trust that he would not let her fall. Or the way she seemed to find awe in the most mundane of things. The joy she showed when he told her about the dish he was making, from his home, the one he’d made for himself once released. 

     Pressing a kiss to her hair, he could hear the sound of her teeth grinding, the way her jaw shifted against his shoulder as she did so. He’d attempted to break that habit, before realizing it was detrimental. His little wonder, playing a balancing act between human and other. Little idiosyncrasies that had been a learning curve to say the least. But with each he’d fallen further into love, charmed by each learned oddness. 

     He liked the way her focus would laser in on a task, whether it be the care of her children, or… other things. Lips twitching in a brief smirk, Bane stepped into the shower taking the brunt of the hot water on his shoulders. Slowly lowering her legs after he’d turned them to face the spray, he felt more than heard her disappointment. Her forehead pressed against his ribs, hands weakly hooked over his shoulders as he lightly chafed her skin. 

     And again after soaping a cloth, feeling the way she pressed into him with a soft coo of sound that made his heart race. It felt childish, strange, even after so long, after committing himself to her. But in a good way, something pure to help keep the nightmares and darker thoughts at bay. Smiling when he guided her head back and her lips immediately moueing in preparation for a kiss. The expression shifting to a scowl when he didn’t kiss her, wetting her hair thoroughly before applying shampoo. 

“No kiss?’

     As if she hadn’t been the one placing her hand over his mouth in order to keep him from doing so, turning her head so his attempts at intimate affections landed elsewhere. As if she hadn’t been the one offering little rejections that had hurt even as he understood the logic behind it. Now that she was on the mend, her body recovering, of course she was seeking those things she’d missed. The few things, though he’d felt some guilt taking advantage of her body despite the eager response. Very eager, despite burning with fever, despite the fact he’d only meant to enjoy a moment before suppressing the urge as he should. 

     Odette did not seem to care for restraint, an exhausting trait to be sure but it was good for him. An acknowledgement that was long in the coming, so used to order and direction. Plans that were meticulously executed in order to receive the best result. An analytical mind corrupt on Venom was never so chaotic as hers, and there had been times the race was close. Much like they were now, hands pressing against pectorals, not to push away but kneading at the tissue.

“Pork favor?’

     A snort, amused by her continued insistence in pronouncing it incorrectly. Though that could be legitimately how she retained it, always hungry, loving to nibble on things that crunched and crackled. 

“Por favor,’ he corrected, kissing her forehead. 

     Or maybe she enjoyed the game of correction, rewarded step by step and she continued to pronounce it incorrectly. Again and again until growing impatient for her kiss and capturing his face in her hands, saying it with far more aggression than needed. As if she hadn’t shivered each time he’d purred the r’s, body rolling against his own, shamelessly seeking more and more contact. As if she hadn’t on purpose said it incorrectly as he denied her, knowing all it would take was saying it right. 

“Please…’ 

     The curled ends of her now clean hair called for a press of his lips, his hands keeping her from melting to the shower floor under the tender assault. When he did kiss her it was a soft press of lips, savoring what had long been denied him. It was the feeling of her shivering again that made him realized the water was cooling, the threat of the illness returning a good enough reason to turn off the water and wrap her in a towel. 

     And it was only good thinking to cuddle her close to his chest, and give her as many kisses as she wanted in an effort to warm her. Nuzzling against her ear before sitting her on the bed and carefully drying her body. Attentively, watching the skin flush, the way her teeth gnawed gently into her lower lip. And the indignant squeak was reward in plenty as he placed a smaller towel on her head and vigorously dried her hair. 

     Fetchingly dishevelled, Bane smoothed his thumb between her eyebrows until the scowl eased, her head turning to press against his palm. Cooler, skin still dry and no longer clammy from illness. Relief having confirmed it, tossing the towels away and nuzzling into the crook of her neck. An arm behind her back to shift her, feeling her legs around his ribs, the little nudges as her hips rocked. Kisses along her shoulder, a nip near the jaw enjoying the way she squirmed. 

     Enjoying even more so the noises of protest when he didn’t push further, rutting against him enticingly. Were he a weaker man he may have submitted, given her what she pleaded for so sweetly, instead of what she needed. Which was more rest, stroking her skin, kissing her until she sagged against the bed in defeat. Later he’d please her in ways that would leave her breathless, liquid boned, raspy as she tried to express herself. 

“Later,’ he promised. 

     Kissing the pout of her lips until they curved into a smile again. His smile, the one he only ever saw when she looked at him. Or their children, but he supposed if he must share with anyone… Nuzzling the tip of his nose against hers and earning a giggle that meant the world to him, accepting the peppering of kisses before slowly lowering atop her. He would be concerned of crushing her if not for how she pulled at him, laid flush, skin to skin. 

“I am glad you are getting better, mi corazon.’ Her shoulder rubbed against his jaw as he scraped his unshaven cheek against the side of her face. “And when you are well, we will celebrate.’

     The assurances that she was already well were immediate, wiggling beneath him, though there was little space to do so. Stilling only when he refused to give her the agency to change their position, which he found great amusement in doing. Letting her believe her strength were enough to conquer in spite of his own. The scratch of claw on fabric shifted her attention from another sulk, little warm bodies smelling of soap and wet fur clambering for places his bulk had not taken. 

“Yer lucky dey showed up.’

     So very threatening, especially given the way she yawned, shifting his weight off one side of her once the rats had shifted elsewhere. Exhausted by the activities that were less than a quarter of what she’d been begging to happy. A few more days, to strengthen her, build her energies to their previous rambunctiousness, and then he’d wear her out properly. One of the rats draped across his neck, a paw reaching out to tangle in her bangs. It would mean finding someone who could distract the children, he was still not entirely comfortable with their eyes locked on them when he… enjoyed his wife’s company.

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