horrendousness

[onapalehorse]

From this.

"You will find strength, and peace."

He promises, with belief.

Comments

[lasiurus]

He's determined not to beg, or plead, and he hasn't shed a tear in over twenty years. But little by little, oh, he can see why this is something people want.

"You have to- be held down for this? Maybe they weren't doing it right."

[onapalehorse]

"That was different."

He tells him, building up a slow rhythm. Pressure, then easing back. In, out.

"In every way imaginable. I won't do anything to you you need to flee."

[lasiurus]

"Mmm."

Every so often the brush of Bane's finger will get Bruce's leg to twitch.

"You should let someone do this to you. Show you how different it is."

[onapalehorse]

"I will. You're going to."

He answers, already having decided that. He tries something new, a furl so direct the stimulation borders on painful intensity.

[lasiurus]

Bruce cries out loud, back lifting off the blanket. His hips rock hard against Bane's hand with a new sort of desperation.

"Yes- oh, God-"

[onapalehorse]

Bane doesn't torment him today, just moves his hand faster, setting up a rhythm like that, reaching down to pin his shoulder to the blanket.

"To see both the grounds of, and groundlessness of your fear."

[lasiurus]

He grips Bane's hand like he had last night when Bane touched his throat. But this time he clings, like a climber to a rope, and keens helplessly.

[onapalehorse]

"Spread your legs. I know it feels like it will never be enough, but it is all you are getting, and you are closer to the edge than you think."

He tells him, though that may not be true. Bruce has just finished.

He wants to keep him like this for some time, though, so it's perfect.

[lasiurus]

He obeys blindly, hips working obscenely all the while. It will be an agonizingly long while before he can come again, but Bruce doesn't know that yet.

[onapalehorse]

"Look at you, rational thought slipping away, tension in every pale line- I will have you out here in the sun until you are golden and open, perhaps all day."

A warm breeze picks up, slides over them, Bane keeps him just like that, watching for cramps or spasms, ready to flip him when he can't sustain the writhing.

[lasiurus]

Bruce crawls mindlessly into Bane's lap, head nuzzling just so between his legs. He might feign ignorance later about this, but right now he wants to feel Bane writhe with him. At least until, as Bane suspected, his muscles begin to cramp from overuse.

[onapalehorse]

He presses him down, then, mercifully forceful, giving him something to push again but no real space to move, finger thrusting faster.

[lasiurus]

He comes again, a half hour after the last, but just a few drops and a strangled whine this time.

Wow.

[onapalehorse]

This time, it's just two fingers against his throat, as though taking his pulse. Bane loves how it jackhammers for him. The touch is there-again, gone-again.

[lasiurus]

He murmurs in such small protest it's clear he doesn't mean it. Two fingers, he can abide.

"Twelve years since you did that for someone? ...if this is you rusty..."

[onapalehorse]

Bane's fingers withdraws, a little rough, a little dry by this point, and he lies down next to him in the shade of the tree, head pillowing on his arm.

"This part, I have done. The unselfish pleasures."

[lasiurus]

It's one of those moments where Bruce is suddenly very aware of the assumptions he's been making. Bane has the power and skill to take whatever he wants; the fact he doesn't does more to soothe Bruce than anything else could.

He hopes distantly that it's not a trick. Then he tunes out that part of his mind and slides his hand down Bane's thigh, holding his gaze defiantly as he does.

[onapalehorse]

Bane reaches down and curls a hand around his wrist, drawing his fingers away, up, tugging them against his throat, folding them there and keeping Bruce's hand like that.

[lasiurus]

"What-?"

Not fighting this, either.

[onapalehorse]

"Perhaps tomorrow."

Though his own pulse is up, going hard. It's obvious he wants him.

[lasiurus]

"Worried I'm out of practice?"

His thumb brushes up and down over Bane's pulse. He has the absurd, brief notion of driving Bane wild--then realizes he has no idea how he would go about doing that. In Gotham, people had wanted him and all he'd had to do was point and choose. Learning seduction, or even flirtation, was very low on his list of priorities.

[onapalehorse]

"You are going to remember yourself. Perhaps it wasn't today, perhaps it may not be tomorrow- but the day after, or the day after that, you will jerk upright and realize what you are doing."

He murmurs, still holding tight to his hand.

"I need you to survive it."

[lasiurus]

Bane has been right about everything else so far. And Bruce knows full well that he has gathered all his truly volatile issues, and stuffed them down as far as he can. It won't end well, but he has no other way to deal with them.

His thumb runs over the smooth metal on the lower half of Bane's mask.

"You're an honorable man, Bane."

[onapalehorse]

"Once you do come back, I will break you back down again." He warns him, meeting his eyes. "You'll recover. I'll do it again after that. Worse every time."

[lasiurus]

That snaps him out of the post-orgasm peace. He sits up, eyes hard and cold again, daring Bane to try it. (Ra's had loved that expression, had always smiled so faintly it was barely a twitch in his beard, and then had always knocked Bruce aside).

"I'm not going to be your puppet, or your servant. I'm willing to learn from you, to do what you ask so that the people I love are safe. But you will not reshape me."