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Bruce was shaving one morning when it happened - the simple sight of Hal’s toothbrush in his bathroom undid Bruce and he’d had to grip the basin as his legs wobbled at the enormity of his feelings. In truth there was very little evidence that Hal lived at the Manor, but this was one of them. There was a small section of Bruce’s palatial closet where Hal stashed a few clothes and a copy of “Aviation Today” on his bedside table, neatly placed.
Bruce had of course grown up in the Manor, and with servants to pick up after him, so his possessions were everywhere, often haphazardly stacked or carelessly discarded. His inability to hang up a wet towel had threatened an argument once.
“Don’t do that.” Hal had growled after Bruce had dropped his 800 gsm towel on the bathroom floor. Bruce had looked genuinely puzzled.
“Do what?” He was looking around for the source of the offence.
“Drop your towel on the floor for someone else to pick up.”
Bruce realised this was territory littered with land mines. If he pointed out that he did in fact employ people to pick up his dirty laundry, he sensed it would not go down well. While he personally found it somewhat ridiculous, he didn’t want an argument - they had so little time together he wanted to preserve a good atmosphere.
“Okay.” He bent to pick it up and looked around again.
“Oh my god. You don’t know where the towel rail is do you?”
“Of course I know where my own towel rail is.” He snapped and stalked over confidently to the elaborate railing he’d spotted out of the corner of his eye. He was acutely aware of Hal’s eyes on him as he inexpertly forced it through the rods.
He turned as saw the bemused expression on Hal’s face. “Happy?”. He got a small nod in reply.
He thought of that moment as he looked at the toothbrush, lined up with military precision by the basin Hal used and he missed him so much it was a physical ache.
The second basin in his bathroom had been unclaimed for years - he really didn’t know why he had one. He never entertained overnight guests at the manor and it was obvious that he was never going to have a serious, long term relationship after Selina, so that pointless ceramic-ware had taunted him for years, underlining his many failings as a partner and human, until that morning when he had just looked over and seen Hal’s toothbrush. That casual reminder that despite his many flaws and against all the odds, Hal Jordan had chosen him. Continued to choose him.
That first night they’d had together, well inevitably Hal’s couch had not been a comfortable option for two such large men for any length of time. Hal had pulled him up and finished undressing them both, then led him to the shower when he’d taken his time soaping every inch of Bruce’s body. And Bruce let himself be taken care of again by Hal - perhaps that was their dynamic now? He decided that might need switching up, so after Hal had finished his very thorough exploration he dropped to his knees and sucked Hal off. Hal was already semi hard from his ministrations, and Bruce sucked him all the way there. Hal was babbling nonsense and scrabbling at his shoulders while Bruce fondled his balls and set up a light rub on his pucker. Eventually Bruce got tired of Hal holding back and he placed his hands on his head so Hal could angle him how he wanted and then Hal, getting the message, fucked his mouth in earnest, muttered curses and praise and wondered out loud how the fuck Bruce was so good at that. He warned Bruce when he was about to climax, but this was the part Bruce wanted the most - he wanted to taste and swallow all of Hal as strangers had been permitted to do, and he swallowed greedily, Hal moaning as Bruce’s throat fluttered around his cock. Hal’s head thunked against the tiles.
“Jesus Christ, Bruce. I can’t believe I never knew you liked cock this much.” Hal was panting and Bruce smirked. They were kissing again, while Bruce’s increasingly insistent erection poked Hal in the hip. Bruce very much hoped that Hal would take the hint, and he did, wrapping his fingers loosely around his cock. Hal husked in his ear “So, are you as good at fucking as you are at blow jobs?”
Bruce whimpered slightly, and then replied, “Never had any complaints.”
Hal looked pointedly at Bruce’s cock. “I’ll be you haven’t. C’mon.”
Hal snapped the water off and handed him a towel. In the bedroom Bruce lay on the bed and appreciated the view of Hal’s broad back and phenomenal ass as he rummaged for condoms and lube. Missions accomplished, he wiggled the tube at Bruce, “Want to do the honours?” Bruce nodded mutely and Hal fell onto his stomach. Bruce couldn’t resist running his hands all down Hal’s back and sides, then parting his cheeks and swiping his tongue over Hal’s hole. The noise Hal made was inhuman so he continued until Hal was writhing then suddenly pulled away.
“Jesus Bruce, you are full of surprises, but I want you inside me when I cum again.”
Bruce nodded and finished prepping Hal, desperate to be inside Hal now he’d said those words. Hal smoothed the condom on Bruce and then pulled him down on top of him.
“Is it ok like this?”
At this point, Bruce would have happily fucked on a bed of nails he was so cranked, but instead of saying that, he kissed Hal deeply and said “Whatever you want.”
He lined himself up and eased himself into Hal’s velvet heat. He had to pause to stop himself from climaxing straight away like an awkward teenager. Hal looked concerned and cupped his cheek.
“Everything ok?”
“Yes. Just getting myself under control.”
Hal groaned, “Don’t. I want to know what you losing control feels like.”
It was Bruce’s turn to moan at that, and he took Hal at his word, fucking him with long, hard strokes that had then both panting and groaning. Hal was hard again and Bruce started to jerk him, desperate for them to come at the same time. But of course Hal had already orgasmed in the shower and his heat and tightness was too much for Bruce who tucked a moan into Hal’s neck, and emptied his balls into that incredible body.
That first night had become a couple of days, and somehow either because of lack of sleep or dehydration due to loss of bodily fluids, Bruce had accidentally said “I love you.” to Hal. Hal had leaned back, looking surprised and Bruce had been tempted to call Clark and ask him to spin the planet backwards, just a couple of minutes, but then Hal has kissed all the breath out of him and murmured back “I love you too.” and that had been that - they had snatched whatever time they could together, usually at the Gotham penthouse, but sometimes at Hal’s place. They didn’t use the Manor, and Bruce couldn’t really have told you why, but inevitably he was rumbled by Alfred.
“Master Bruce, a word.” it was a command not a request and Bruce mentally ran through the things he had done which Alfred would disapprove of, but didn’t think he was aware of. He kept his face impassive until Alfred revealed the source of his irritation.
“Master Bruce, if you are going to have Captain Jordan in your life, then he must be part of your life fully, and that means being here with you. Not locked away in your penthouse like some sordid little secret.”
Bruce was not often lost for words. Obviously he had been spending more time at the Penthouse and Alfred would have noticed that, but how did he know it was Hal he was meeting there? He sometimes wondered if Alfred had him under surveillance in the way Bruce did everyone else.
“Please extend an invitation to dinner this Saturday night.” Alfred turned on his heel before Bruce could object.
Alfred obviously decided to break Hal in gently, because the first dinner was only Alfred, Bruce and Damian. Damian was thrilled and monopolised Hal’s attention all evening. He didn’t have any questions as to why Hal was also present at breakfast the next morning. When Alfred knew that Hal was going to be at the Manor, one by one other Batkids were added to the roster - Tim making an unexpected mid term trip back home, Dick swinging by one night when he wasn’t on duty. Jason, well, Jason didn’t come at first, but after some months, he dropped by one Sunday morning, just sat himself down for brunch like he’d just wandered downstairs from his old room, and nobody said a word. Bruce was certain that Jason had tried to warn Hal from him, but whatever poison he’d said about Bruce (probably justifiably), Hal hadn’t listened, in fact had fucked him with such extraordinary tenderness that night it had broken Bruce open to feel it.
He didn’t know that after Dick’s turn for a family dinner, his eldest son had turned up uninvited at Ferris Air, interrupting Hal while he was doing his flight logs. He didn’t hear Dick until he was stood in front of him.
“Dick.” Hal was immediately concerned. “Is everything ok?”
Dick swung a chair around and straddled it.
“I don’t know. Is it?”
Hal was confused. “Did I do something wrong at dinner the other night?”
“This is new for Bruce.”
“What is?”
“Moving someone into his home.”
“Well, I haven’t really moved in, I still have my apartment here and..”
Dick cut him off. “You’re having family meals. You sleep in his room. You’ve moved in. Even if you do keep your little escape hatch here. Which is what I wanted to talk about.”
Hal was irritated now. His perfectly normal apartment was not a “little escape hatch.”
“Well, Dick, my job is in California which is a bit of a commute from your rain soaked hellscape, so sometimes those of us who need to work for a living have to sleep near the office. So to speak.”
“You don’t have to work for a living any more than I do. And while I respect the fact you choose to, it does make me query how committed you are to my father.”
Huh, that was a new one. He’d never heard any of the kids other than Damian call Bruce “father”.
“Can I remind you how me and your Dad got together?”
“Ugh. I’d rather you spared me the details.”
“Too late, Dick.” Hal placed particular emphasis on his name. “I begged my superiors and called in every favor I had to be allowed to carry out an interplanetary rescue mission and then nursed his ass for weeks. So you can shove any questions about my commitment. Jesus Christ. Who are you to come here and ask these questions anyhow? Bruce is a grown ass adult and can make his own choices about who he dates.”
“His last choice was Selina.”
Hal had to recognise the justice of that.
“Well, that’s fair. Listen kid,” Dick rolled his eyes at that, “I’m not Selina. On account I’m not a narcissistic sociopath klepto. I’m just a pilot who is behind on flight logs, so while I have enjoyed your little shovel talk, do you think we could continue this later.”
“No need, I think we’re done.” Dick stood up lightly and walked towards the door. Before he left he turned back, “Hal, if you ever hurt him, I’ll kill you and make it look like an accident.” Dick remembered what Bruce had once said about his eldest son being the most lethal.
“Great. So glad we had this talk.” Hal muttered as he watched Dick’s back disappear.
The morning when Bruce had had an emotional crisis over a toothbrush was nearly a year after Delphi Five, a year after quarantine, a year after his late night appearance at Hal’s apartment. And the truth was that he still wasn’t fully recovered from whatever harm the virus had done him. He was starting to think he might never be. If anyone else had noticed, they hadn’t dared to comment, but he wasn’t back to his pre illness lifting strength, he got tired more quickly and he knew he was fractionally slower. All of them, fractional deteriorations, but potentially the difference between life and death in his line of work. When he watched Hal blast off across space like a god, and it hurt. Hurt because he missed him and worried about him, of course, but also because their nearly 10 year age gap felt like a chasm. He’d always known in an abstract way that he couldn’t do this forever, but had sort of assumed the situation would take care of itself. Now Bruce found he wasn’t ready to throw his life away - he wanted a future with Hal, Dick and Barbara were bound to get married sooner or later, and then perhaps grandchildren? What would it be like to have normal, untraumatised kids running around the place?
And so, there were two conversations he needed to have - the first was whether Dick would be interested in taking over as Batman. He genuinely didn’t know what his answer would be - Nightwing was his own thing in his own city. Really, it shouldn’t work. But Dick had been ready enough to step into the breach before, perhaps he would be interested? If not, then what? Would Bruce keep going until Tim was ready? He didn’t think he could last until Damian was a suitable age. The idea of Jason skittered across his mind. Perhaps? Without the guns and the casual attitude to murder?
The second, much more important conversation was whether Hal would marry him. He seemed pretty happy here and Damian adored having him around. Formalising their relationship would give Damian a step father, and that certainty and stability could only be a good thing. But the ugly topic of money would come between them. He’d managed to side step it for most of a year, sensing nothing good would come of giving Hal a copy of his black card, but marriage would mean equal assets, and inevitable speculation about Hal being a gold digger. Would Hal refuse on principle? He hoped not. He had contemplated all of this while dressing in silence, turning the conversations this way and that in his head, spinning them out to see how they would go and retracing his steps when they backfired, or reached a roadblock.
He wondered what Hal would think of him retiring. Some relief no doubt, he had told Bruce that he worried every time he went out on patrol. One night when they were lying fucked out in bed, he’d been kissing Bruce’s hand, tenderly turning it over and kissing the palm and each knuckle. Hal’s voice was a little bit raspy. “You know when we first met it took me a long time to believe you weren’t really a meta. I couldn’t believe you were just a guy with a grappling hook. It scares the shit out of me.” Bruce had just cupped his cheek and held his eyes. But as well as relief, there was no denying that Hal absolutely had a Batman kink. Bruce’s productivity had been considerably hampered by Hal’s tendency to crowd between his thighs and suck him off when he was sitting in the chair in the cave wearing his uniform. And there was the time he had fucked Hal, bent over the hood of the Batmobile, while he whispered filth in Hal’s ear about how tight he was and how hard he was going to fuck him. Hal had come much faster than usual, come without a hand on him, leaving splashes of white on the matt black paintwork which Bruce had been tempted to leave there forever. So yes, he’d definitely at least have to keep a couple of suits, and maybe work out a rota for use of the cave if Dick did agree.
He went out watch shopping that day, an engagement gift hopefully, and couldn’t resist a Rolex sky dweller with a green face which looked like it had been made for Hal. He thought about getting it engraved with the date of the proposal, but since he didn’t know exactly when Hal would be back from his assignment, that was not an option. The date they had first got together, when he’d shown up and fucked Hal senseless didn’t seem like the one to preserve for posterity. Besides if any of the kids ever saw it, he could imagine Hal’s delight in telling them what the date represented, so no - that one was out of the question.
He tucked it away in a dresser drawer, waiting for Hal to come home, and to ask him a very important question.
