warnings: Bruce being a creep to and about Terry. Also he's a perv.
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When Terry left the Cave, Bruce pretended not to notice.
He kept his eyes on his work. Case file open, rotating through evidence under the cold glow of the monitors. He didn’t scroll. Didn’t blink. The elevator dinged, the doors hissed closed. And Terry was gone. Bruce said nothing.
It was for the best. The kid had no real training. No business putting himself in harm’s way. What was his counterpart thinking? Bruce couldn’t say. He just knew he would never be that careless.
Or that lonely.
He had not enjoyed humiliating Terry on the mats. Bruce saw so much of the others in him – Dick’s agility. Jason’s defiance. Tim’s calculation. And how seamlessly he wove those traits together. It was impressive.
None of that mattered when the suit did the work. Too much of it. Terry wouldn’t always have it and if he couldn’t stand without it, he had no business wearing it. Luck wouldn’t save him forever.
Bruce wasn’t going to bury anyone else.
That should have been final. He had rendered his verdict and Terry had agreed to the terms. He should have put this all away and moved on. There was work to do. But in the lingering silence after the elevator doors closed, Bruce pulled up the footage of their match and watched it. Then he watched it again.
Over and over. Until the last moment: his body bowed deep over Terry’s, pinning him to the mat. His wide hands splayed across his back, the way Terry struggled against him. That had always been the part he couldn’t look away from. The fury and determination. The stubbornness. Against an immovable force, the kid was alive.
He didn’t just watch. He memorized. Folded every angle and every motion into his memory. Bruce had always trained them to endure. Resist. Survive. And here was Terry, stubborn and raw. Rebelling. Against him. Against everything.
His hand dropped low, resting on the erection pressing against his sweats. He was never going to get anything done like this. Not while this lived in every synapse in his brain. So just this once and he would put it out of his mind.
He replayed the footage again, a hand slipping under his waistband and wrapping his calloused fingers around his cock. He stroked himself long and slow as the footage replayed. Eyes fixed on the flex of Terry’s muscles, the way he moved. Bruce watched Terry’s face and imagined what his messy hair would look like clutched in his fist as he fucked him from behind, face pressed into the mat.
Bruce’s breath hitched, head pitched forward, free hand bracing against the desk to keep himself steady. He wouldn’t last much longer like this. He saw Terry’s face behind his shut eyes, the snarl on his face and the way he bucked to escape him. But he couldn’t escape. Bruce held him fast and hard. That’s the image he came to, groaning quietly into the open air.
He breathed through his orgasm and then willed himself back into his baseline. Stopped his heart from beating so frantically in his chest. When he looked up at the screen he caught sight of Terry, laying flat on his back staring up at the ceiling. Then he rolled to his feet and headed for the showers. And Bruce knew just once wouldn’t be enough.
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aftermath. (NSFW)
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When Terry left the Cave, Bruce pretended not to notice.
He kept his eyes on his work. Case file open, rotating through evidence under the cold glow of the monitors. He didn’t scroll. Didn’t blink. The elevator dinged, the doors hissed closed. And Terry was gone. Bruce said nothing.
It was for the best. The kid had no real training. No business putting himself in harm’s way. What was his counterpart thinking? Bruce couldn’t say. He just knew he would never be that careless.
Or that lonely.
He had not enjoyed humiliating Terry on the mats. Bruce saw so much of the others in him – Dick’s agility. Jason’s defiance. Tim’s calculation. And how seamlessly he wove those traits together. It was impressive.
None of that mattered when the suit did the work. Too much of it. Terry wouldn’t always have it and if he couldn’t stand without it, he had no business wearing it. Luck wouldn’t save him forever.
Bruce wasn’t going to bury anyone else.
That should have been final. He had rendered his verdict and Terry had agreed to the terms. He should have put this all away and moved on. There was work to do. But in the lingering silence after the elevator doors closed, Bruce pulled up the footage of their match and watched it. Then he watched it again.
Over and over. Until the last moment: his body bowed deep over Terry’s, pinning him to the mat. His wide hands splayed across his back, the way Terry struggled against him. That had always been the part he couldn’t look away from. The fury and determination. The stubbornness. Against an immovable force, the kid was alive.
He didn’t just watch. He memorized. Folded every angle and every motion into his memory. Bruce had always trained them to endure. Resist. Survive. And here was Terry, stubborn and raw. Rebelling. Against him. Against everything.
His hand dropped low, resting on the erection pressing against his sweats. He was never going to get anything done like this. Not while this lived in every synapse in his brain. So just this once and he would put it out of his mind.
He replayed the footage again, a hand slipping under his waistband and wrapping his calloused fingers around his cock. He stroked himself long and slow as the footage replayed. Eyes fixed on the flex of Terry’s muscles, the way he moved. Bruce watched Terry’s face and imagined what his messy hair would look like clutched in his fist as he fucked him from behind, face pressed into the mat.
Bruce’s breath hitched, head pitched forward, free hand bracing against the desk to keep himself steady. He wouldn’t last much longer like this. He saw Terry’s face behind his shut eyes, the snarl on his face and the way he bucked to escape him. But he couldn’t escape. Bruce held him fast and hard. That’s the image he came to, groaning quietly into the open air.
He breathed through his orgasm and then willed himself back into his baseline. Stopped his heart from beating so frantically in his chest. When he looked up at the screen he caught sight of Terry, laying flat on his back staring up at the ceiling. Then he rolled to his feet and headed for the showers. And Bruce knew just once wouldn’t be enough.