He hesitates, but nods. He's not going to give up these little things just for the sake of being stubborn.
"I'll be quick."
He won't be, actually. Once he's in the shower and can control the temperature, has real soap and shampoo and a fresh razor...well, he takes longer than he expected.
Bruce rummages for clean clothes once he's out, since his are decidedly very dirty. When he's dressed, he doesn't allow himself to hesitate in opening the door.
Down, to what passes for a gym. High ceiling, mats on the floor.
"Today, we're going to test where, exactly, your resistance kicks in. I'd like you to speak to me throughout, about each request- whether you want to follow it, whether you can feel your mind longing to resist, or verbalize your flat out 'no's.'"
Bruce watches him warily, but it's the caution that the League of Shadows trained into him. He's not planning how to overpower Bane, merely watching for an attack.
And then he kneels. Why he does it is a fuzzy thing even in his mind.
"It feels like a training exercise. It would have bothered me yesterday."
He flinches at the first contact, but doesn't seem to mind otherwise. He sits back a little further.
"And that whip you used?"
Bruce knows full well he would never have agreed to come if Bane hadn't followed that all the way through. He would never have believed it wasn't a trick without that moment of aftercare. But he wants to hear it from Bane's perspective.
He's tense again, but in this case it's because of the fact his singletail marks are pressed against Bane. He doesn't fidget or complain; it's just pain. He can handle it.
"That was the anxiety of anticipation. Not knowing built the tension up in you until it burst into something you knew was ill-advised. Softened, thoughtfully, with very reasonable request, but still a tiny bit outside of your control."
Nuzzling at the outside of his shoulder, the unwelted portion.
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He promises.
"Shower. Be brief, if you like. But if you argue about luxuries, I will have no trouble removing them."
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"I'll be quick."
He won't be, actually. Once he's in the shower and can control the temperature, has real soap and shampoo and a fresh razor...well, he takes longer than he expected.
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"Better?"
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He decides, standing up, starting down the stairs, expecting silently that Bruce will follow.
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He pays attention this time to which left or right turns they take.
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"Today, we're going to test where, exactly, your resistance kicks in. I'd like you to speak to me throughout, about each request- whether you want to follow it, whether you can feel your mind longing to resist, or verbalize your flat out 'no's.'"
Nodding him in to the centre of the space.
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"Okay."
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I'm sure, for example, you've been ordered to kneel. Do it now."
Circling him, slowly.
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And then he kneels. Why he does it is a fuzzy thing even in his mind.
"It feels like a training exercise. It would have bothered me yesterday."
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He means his previous master. Standing behind him, Bane reaches down and rests his hand on Bruce's shoulders.
"Perhaps I'll destroy him for you."
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So yes, because Bruce sees them all as one entity. Although perhaps not all of them; he relaxes marginally when Bane touches him.
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He corrects, dropping down onto one knee behind him, massive, immovable presence at his back.
"He opened the door a crack, and I broke it down and lifted you free of his idiotic stylings. He thinks you're dead and need never know different."
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"How did you hear about me, then?"
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He admits, reaching out the other hand, dragging a thumb along the unprotected side of his throat.
"It had me watching. I offered my services when he was hospitalized."
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"And that whip you used?"
Bruce knows full well he would never have agreed to come if Bane hadn't followed that all the way through. He would never have believed it wasn't a trick without that moment of aftercare. But he wants to hear it from Bane's perspective.
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Stroking that finger down his throat, slowly.
"My wishes truly are to guide you."
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But in the meantime he just tips his chin up, stubbornly rebelling against his training.
"Guide me to what?" And then, because he wants to see what Bane does with open communication, "Having my throat touched usually sets me off."
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Hand freezing, for the moment, letting him explain.
He shifts, so his legs pin Bruce's shins against the floor, and then pulls him subtly back against his body.
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He's tense again, but in this case it's because of the fact his singletail marks are pressed against Bane. He doesn't fidget or complain; it's just pain. He can handle it.
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He reminds him.
"Very effectively."
But his hands drop down to rest instead on Bruce's hips.
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He keeps his own hands resting on his knees, just as if he was meditating. It keeps them out of Bane's way.
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He clarifies, hands slipping in to find his buttons.
"Is it easier to be undressed, or to undress yourself?"
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But he does finally grab Bane's wrist.
"Just- tell me if this is going to pain or not."
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Nuzzling at the outside of his shoulder, the unwelted portion.
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