horrendousness

[onapalehorse]

From this.

"You will find strength, and peace."

He promises, with belief.

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[lasiurus]

He looks at Bane and wonders at how simply adding a mask makes that question so appealing. How often does Bane taste anyone?

His nails rake over Bane's shoulder.

"Keep going, you can try at least one."

[onapalehorse]

He gasps at the nails, pressing down closer to him, feeling uncomfortably like the tables may turn. It's excruciatingly raw, feeling hands on his skin. His eyes fix determinedly on Bruce's collarbone, and he lifts his hips with one hand, forcing him still while Bane strokes him, suddenly hard and fast and with no option to move or arch into it.

[lasiurus]

Like Bruce said, it's been years since he did this, and Bane is infinitely stronger and faster than any of the others had been. He doesn't last thirty seconds more with this pace, comes hard with a gasped sound.

[onapalehorse]

Right at the exact moment he starts to come, the hand stroking him abandons its' work, reaches up, and wraps fast and dirty around his throat. It's gentle as can be, but there nonetheless, holding him down by the neck, in the air by the hips, trapped like that against the need to curl up against the orgasm, keeping him arched on display.

[lasiurus]

The threat response is ingrained even when he's out of his mind with need, and he twists, bringing his forearm up to break the loose hold Bane has on his throat.

It's like being thrown off a rollercoaster and into the ocean, and he can't wrap his head around what's happening.

[onapalehorse]

He'd been curious to see if orgasm would come through it. Apparently not. He releases his grip immediately, fingertips sliding back down his chest, dragging through the come on his skin, reaching to wrap back around him, rubbing him through the last twitch or two.

[lasiurus]

It's a mystery if Bruce is even really aware of what he did. The second Bane is touching him again, his hand rests on Bane's leg.

Normally he would pull his partner down, kiss them slowly and return the favor. But the mask, and Bane's absolute dominance, change things.

[onapalehorse]

Even through the fabric of the pants, Bane's leg is thick and muscular. Kneeling as he is, the fabric stretches tight over flexed muscle.

He slides a finger through the mess, coating it liberally, then lets it wander back between Bruce's legs, just drawing along and over him, touching, letting him get used to stimulation in an area probably hitherto ignored, from the sexual history Bane has for him.

[lasiurus]

He'd been prepared to do something--roll them over, tease and torture Bane because God knows he learned how to do that from Tony Stark.

But this is a test, he remembers, and so he doesn't push to treat this like any old spur of the moment fuck.

"When's the last time anyone had you?"

[onapalehorse]

"-seventeen years?"

He has to think.

"Perhaps longer. I am difficult to hold down."

[lasiurus]

It's not funny, it's actually really fucking sad that Bane doesn't reference any willing couplings. But Bruce smiles, eyes closed. He feels good, and they're under an apple tree where it's safe and quiet.

"And how long since you had someone else?"

[onapalehorse]

"Twelve years."

He answers, nuzzling his shoulder, rubbing his thumb against the tender drag of skin behind his cock.

"Do I feel rusty to you?"

[lasiurus]

He presses against it, breath catching. His fingers run along Bane's scalp.

"No- but if you want to practice on me to be sure, I'm really not minding it."

[onapalehorse]

"If you keep touching me like that, my mind will supply reasons to never harm you again, and then all of this work will be lost."

He complains, mildly, eyes shutting against the pleasure, undone with a simple stroke of fingertips against his skin.

"Or worse, I will know the strength to continue, and will mourn never feeling it again. Abstinence is most cruel once broken."

[lasiurus]

"I had a friend who would have wanted me to tell you abstinence is for the dead."

His hands are cool, soothing.

"Besides, you're already planning on having me sometime in the future."

[onapalehorse]

"True enough."

This is all the vulnerability he can stomach, so lets the tip of one slick finger breach him. A very immediate distraction.

[lasiurus]

It works like predictable, comical magic. Bruce's hand drops (it was work to reach up that high) and he is surprised to find that the first finger doesn't hurt at all. He doesn't see the appeal in it, either, but at least it's not painful.

[onapalehorse]

"What do you know about this? Ever touched the idea?"

He takes the slide inside of him slow and easy, fingertip working gently.

[lasiurus]

"Sometimes. That friend I told you about- he couldn't get enough of this."

He doesn't want to think about friends or his history right now, though. Especially Tony and Bruce, who are at best dead right now.

"Not bad."

[onapalehorse]

"More colourful than I would have expected from you."

He murmurs, searching slowly for the small place inside of him that takes it from 'not bad' to 'more right now.'

[lasiurus]

"If you'd known him, you wouldn't be surprised."

He searches for a change of topic, but instead Bane finds it, and every thought in his head is shut right out in favor of stuttered gasps.

[onapalehorse]

"Begging."

He promises, working it over slowly, the rough pad of his finger searching for the best angle, the amount of pressure to get him pumping his hips.

"And pleading, and possible contrite tears."

[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."