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noelia_gTitle: Night Lights (chapter twelve)
Pairing: Gordon/Batman, eventually.
Rating: NC-17
previous parts
Bruce moved away, the flustered arousal giving way to surprise and worry. Slowly, he withdrew his hand and brushed it absently against his pants. "How..." he started, stopping when Jim slowly reached to run his fingers down the side of his face, tracing his jaw.
Then Gordon chuckled. "At least it explains the diamonds."
"What?"
"For the trap. Batman might not have any lying around, but Bruce Wayne surely does," Gordon explained matter-of-factly, causing Bruce to roll his eyes.
"You discover my secret identity, and this is what you choose to concentrate on?" he asked, shaking his head. "Really."
Gordon shrugged, his hand sliding down Bruce's neck, his attention fixed on getting the buttons of his shirt undone methodically. "If you preferred me to react differently, you shouldn't have made sure I had almost no coherent thoughts left."
Bruce stilled his hands, fingers tightening on his wrist. "Gordon," he said pleadingly, looking at him with so much worry Gordon couldn't keep up the nonchalant air anymore.
"I didn't want to know," he said quietly, wondering how on earth he'd got to have this very conversation with his pants open, shaking his head in bemusement. He looked up. "I never asked, and never tried to find out."
Bruce nodded, the line of his mouth tightening as his eyes darted away. "I know."
"It changes everything," Gordon muttered, and then smiled slightly. "And nothing. I trusted you before, I trust you still."
"Thank you," Bruce said quietly, and if Gordon wasn't just inches away, he probably wouldn't have caught it. Jim leaned in, his body fitting against Bruce's, covering Bruce's lips with his own, kissing him slowly and thoroughly. He traced the curve of Bruce's lips with his tongue, then, even slower, coaxing them open, waiting for the low groan deep in Bruce's throat. He returned to undoing Bruce's shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. He leaned back, simply looking at the exposed skin.
He moved forward, maneuvering Bruce towards the couch, pushing him gently down, and knelt next to him. His fingertips traced the edge of the wound in Bruce's side, the same one he had touched before, the same one he had patched up few days ago. Bruce hissed, his hips twitching, and it didn't sound like pain, it sounded... Jim moved his fingers across Bruce's stomach, then up his other side, along an older bruise, brown and yellow and faint. "For god's sake, Jim, just..." Bruce started, but the rest was swallowed as Jim kissed him again, hard and unyielding.
"What do you want?" he asked, pulling away, and for a long delightful moment Bruce just stared at him, breathing harshly.
"Anything," Bruce said finally, arching his back lightly. Jim looked at him, pretending to frown thoughtfully as his fingers idly skimmed the waistband of Bruce's pants.
"Anything sounds good," he nodded before sliding to the floor, onto his knees, spreading Bruce's legs with his hands on Bruce's thighs, his fingers working the zipper open. He hadn't done that in a long while, but quite probably, it was not something one forgot easily. And by the strained moan Bruce gave when Gordon took his cock into his mouth he hadn't lost the touch, excuse his pun.
"Jim," Bruce kept repeating his name, as Jim's fingers dug into his thighs, as his tongue traced the underside of Bruce's dick. "Jim..." the vowel drawn out as if it was supposed to last forever, voice rising to almost reach a scream.
Jim pulled away, licking his lips absently, and Bruce moaned slightly. After a moment, when his breathing evened out, and Jim moved back to the couch, Bruce smirked lightly. "I guess this would be it for the lunch?"
Gordon didn't even bother with an eyeroll. "This was terrible," he said wryly. "I think it might have been your worst, actually," he added thoughtfully.
"I do try," Bruce nodded, turning his head to look at Gordon. "If I may ask, how..." he started, and Jim sighed.
"I patched this one up," he offered, pointing at the scar.
Bruce nodded. "I must remember from now on, don't take my shirt in front of people," he said, grinning. "Good thing I wasn't planning to."
"Oh?" Gordon raised his eyebrow, and Bruce laughed, leaning in to kiss him quickly.
"Present company excepted, of course."
epilogue
Pairing: Gordon/Batman, eventually.
Rating: NC-17
previous parts
Bruce moved away, the flustered arousal giving way to surprise and worry. Slowly, he withdrew his hand and brushed it absently against his pants. "How..." he started, stopping when Jim slowly reached to run his fingers down the side of his face, tracing his jaw.
Then Gordon chuckled. "At least it explains the diamonds."
"What?"
"For the trap. Batman might not have any lying around, but Bruce Wayne surely does," Gordon explained matter-of-factly, causing Bruce to roll his eyes.
"You discover my secret identity, and this is what you choose to concentrate on?" he asked, shaking his head. "Really."
Gordon shrugged, his hand sliding down Bruce's neck, his attention fixed on getting the buttons of his shirt undone methodically. "If you preferred me to react differently, you shouldn't have made sure I had almost no coherent thoughts left."
Bruce stilled his hands, fingers tightening on his wrist. "Gordon," he said pleadingly, looking at him with so much worry Gordon couldn't keep up the nonchalant air anymore.
"I didn't want to know," he said quietly, wondering how on earth he'd got to have this very conversation with his pants open, shaking his head in bemusement. He looked up. "I never asked, and never tried to find out."
Bruce nodded, the line of his mouth tightening as his eyes darted away. "I know."
"It changes everything," Gordon muttered, and then smiled slightly. "And nothing. I trusted you before, I trust you still."
"Thank you," Bruce said quietly, and if Gordon wasn't just inches away, he probably wouldn't have caught it. Jim leaned in, his body fitting against Bruce's, covering Bruce's lips with his own, kissing him slowly and thoroughly. He traced the curve of Bruce's lips with his tongue, then, even slower, coaxing them open, waiting for the low groan deep in Bruce's throat. He returned to undoing Bruce's shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. He leaned back, simply looking at the exposed skin.
He moved forward, maneuvering Bruce towards the couch, pushing him gently down, and knelt next to him. His fingertips traced the edge of the wound in Bruce's side, the same one he had touched before, the same one he had patched up few days ago. Bruce hissed, his hips twitching, and it didn't sound like pain, it sounded... Jim moved his fingers across Bruce's stomach, then up his other side, along an older bruise, brown and yellow and faint. "For god's sake, Jim, just..." Bruce started, but the rest was swallowed as Jim kissed him again, hard and unyielding.
"What do you want?" he asked, pulling away, and for a long delightful moment Bruce just stared at him, breathing harshly.
"Anything," Bruce said finally, arching his back lightly. Jim looked at him, pretending to frown thoughtfully as his fingers idly skimmed the waistband of Bruce's pants.
"Anything sounds good," he nodded before sliding to the floor, onto his knees, spreading Bruce's legs with his hands on Bruce's thighs, his fingers working the zipper open. He hadn't done that in a long while, but quite probably, it was not something one forgot easily. And by the strained moan Bruce gave when Gordon took his cock into his mouth he hadn't lost the touch, excuse his pun.
"Jim," Bruce kept repeating his name, as Jim's fingers dug into his thighs, as his tongue traced the underside of Bruce's dick. "Jim..." the vowel drawn out as if it was supposed to last forever, voice rising to almost reach a scream.
Jim pulled away, licking his lips absently, and Bruce moaned slightly. After a moment, when his breathing evened out, and Jim moved back to the couch, Bruce smirked lightly. "I guess this would be it for the lunch?"
Gordon didn't even bother with an eyeroll. "This was terrible," he said wryly. "I think it might have been your worst, actually," he added thoughtfully.
"I do try," Bruce nodded, turning his head to look at Gordon. "If I may ask, how..." he started, and Jim sighed.
"I patched this one up," he offered, pointing at the scar.
Bruce nodded. "I must remember from now on, don't take my shirt in front of people," he said, grinning. "Good thing I wasn't planning to."
"Oh?" Gordon raised his eyebrow, and Bruce laughed, leaning in to kiss him quickly.
"Present company excepted, of course."
epilogue
