My one and only Batman Beyond fic. Although I'd love to write more. I just refuse
to 'de-age' Bruce, and I suspect that most readers would find the age gap disturbing.
(Of course, those readers who know me are going 'and this is a problem HOW?!? - because
I DO disturbing.) So until I get the right plot bunny - this is all there is.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. I just gaze with lust at the TV and sometimes make up stories. Would you want to sue a crazy lady?
Location: Batman Beyond
Pairing : Bruce /Terry
Archive: Here by Smitty. All others please ask. (I'm easy, I just want to know.)
Wayne Manor has great water pressure. It may look like a haunted house, but everything works like precision machinery. Naturally. Because it belongs to Bruce Wayne. Discussion closed.
I stand under the oversized shower head, letting the jets massage the tension from over strained shoulders. Major fight with Curare last night, and I'm looking at school this morning, but I can deal. Another five minutes and I'll be awake enough to sleep though Recent History.
Better then being history. I thought I was, there for a minute. But the Bat-jets caught and I got the falling air-car back in place with nothing worse then a pair of sprained elbows. The hot water is definitely helping that.
No help for the lower ache. The one that's going to make sitting in class a real challenge. That is also from last night, but later. Far later, and far less hostile. I think.
That's my problem.
Mostly I think about Bruce.
Sometimes I think he loves me. That he calls me out of that love. If I didn't, I wouldn't come to his bed.
I've heard my classmates whisper that I'm just with him for... Whatever. The money, I suppose. The flash. The privileges that come with speaking for Gotham's most powerful man.
No way. Not for that. Not for the suit. Not for... Not for any of those things. I may not be sure what my reason is, but I'm sure it's not that.
Sometimes I think it's my reward. Pure Pavlovian pleasure to counteract the pain of wearing the suit.
There might be something to that. Pleasure there is. Wilder then I even thought possible. Bruce was my first man. I'd been with girls. Dana. A few others. Nice, but a fumbling and nervous nice.
Bruce is surety and confidence and command, and when he takes me it is with the absolute knowledge that he can make my nerves scream. That might be reason enough - for me and for him.
Sometimes I think he views it as part of the job. No. Too mercenary. Part of the training. Bat-bonding at its physical ultimate.
It works. I know that. It brings us together. Gives me some of his infinite confidence. Builds my trust in him. My commitment.
Is that it? If so, I cant blame him. Bruce is a physical man. That's how he sees the world. How he deals with it. His words have been a masque too long. Actions are what he trusts. Action is what he gives me.
Sometimes I think he's just lonely.
I know I am.