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Bruce paced his room, he was listening to Chappell Roan on loop and honestly at this point nothing was in his ramen-noodle brain.
There was a bottle of chardonnay on his night stand, completely unopened next to a dish of strawberries. He put those out for himself because he was lonely as hell during Christmas Eve.
Would he ever tell anyone that? No. It’s Gotham city, the place of opportunity and here he was, not even drunk, at 2AM, listening to a lesbian sing about going to Hollywood to dance in a gay bar, and above all, he was horny.
The song changed and now it was up to Good Luck Babe to make his night better, did it? A little bit.
“..With her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof…” He hummed, biting the bullet and walking over to the chardonnay, popping the wax seal.
He couldn’t even invite Selena over just to hang out, she was out with her girlfriend at the Iceberg.
“You’ll have to stop the world just to stop the feelin’...” Bruce hummed, twisting the Wine Key in like an amateur.
Alfred was out shoveling snow, he wouldn’t be back in for a while.
The annual Wayne Manor party ended two hours prior, people had already left save for a few that were curled up drunk in the guest rooms.
He had barely had a few shots and that was some watered down stuff. He never got drunk around people nowadays, it was his rule.
Bruce popped the cork and it sprayed out, he gasped and angled the stream down at the hardwood and away from his white fur rug, he’d be pissed at himself if he stained that.
Then there was a light clank against his window, he paused as the stream stopped flowing, setting the bottle down on the table. No sound other than his bluetooth radio and a distant police siren, likely poor Jim Gordon on his way to deal with another drunk robbery.
Tis the season.
He huffed amusedly then poured his wine, giving himself a far from just generous amount.
Clank. Again.
“Okay,” Bruce shook his head and set the glass down, approaching the window, he pulled it up and open, and peaked out.
And in the most comically timed manner ever, another pebble was thrown up into his forehead, “Ouch-!” he gripped the spot.
“Oops! Sorry Brucie, I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.” The Valeska’s voice called up to him.
“Jerome??” The pain fled as he found something else to worry about.
“””WHEN YOU WAKE UP NEXT TO HIM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, WITH YOUR HEAD IN YOUR HAND YOU’RE NOTHIN’ MORE THAN HIS WIFE-””” His radio blasted out the window.
“Ooo, never pegged you as a Chappell fan.” Jerome crooned curiously.
“Please don’t peg me at all, actually.” Bruce didn’t know where it came from, his cheeks flushed.
“Oh I see, into something a bit more… personal?” Jerome then teased.
Bruce rolled his dark eyes dramatically, “What do you want? It’s two in the morning and I want to get drunk.” he complained.
“I just wanted to make you a special little offer, seeing as you’re so lonely.” The ginger tilted his head and smiled innocently.
“Why would I trust you?” Bruce accused.
“I don’t know, maybe for the same reason that you haven’t run and called your best buddy down at the GCPD yet?” Jerome then added, “You’re curious.”
He had a fair point, maybe that was just the libido talking though.
“So what do you say, Brucie? Wanna let down your hair for little old me?” He suggested.
“Tell me your offer then maybe I will.” Bruce clicked the volume button on his phone which resided in his pocket and turned the music down.
“Well if you insist. All I was gonna suggest was that since you’re all alone and bored and…” Jerome’s eyes hunted him briefly which gave him a couple skittering butterflies in the gut, “I was gonna offer you a little… Ice Cream?” he finished, flirt drenching his tone.
Bruce perused his offer, eyeing him for a few quiet and considering seconds.
On one hand he really could go for that, and by ‘that’ he didn’t mean a frozen desert. He knew exactly what the clown was advising.
On the other hand, it was stupid and dangerous. The man wasn’t even supposed to be out of Arkham and yet here he was, suggesting something that would really make his dead parents blush..
And on that mysterious lab-grown third hand… he REALLY needed someone to eat him out right now.
“Go around the back, I’ll let you in since Alfred’s out front.” Bruce said without further consideration.
The Valeska grinned at him, “I knew you’d come around~”
Now Bruce would have to be stealthy, he went and opened his door, walking down the hall and the steps to the first floor. He went through the kitchen and popped the lock on the glass-paned door, pulling it open.
“Hey Brucie~ Ready for a little fun?” The ginger stepped over the threshold.
Bruce swallowed the heavy amount of saliva his mouth was forming and nodded, “Be quiet, we can’t wake anyone.” he grabbed the man’s hand and led him inside, shutting and locking the door.
He pulled the excited redhead along through the dim halls, the house smelled like warm cinnamon and the decorations lit the space in a cozy manner.
Jerome passingly admired them all, he had to admit Alfred had style.
As soon as they made it to his room and that door closed, Bruce bolted to grab his wine and marched back over to Jerome.
“If I’m gonna be drunk for this you are too.” He said, taking a wealthy gulp of the red liquid, letting it burn his throat.
“Ooo~ I love a man taking charge.” Jerome giggled as the glass was pressed to his lips, he made dead eye-contact as he gulped it.
Bruce watched his Adam's apple bob as he did so, staring into those hazel eyes like they were the most interesting thing ever. And right now, they were.
The Valeska licked his lips, “Where do you wanna do this, babe?”
Bruce swallowed hard again, eyeing the room then spotting his corner recliner and getting an idea, “Come here.” he pulled him along.
Before long he was lounging in the red upholstery, legs bare and open, calves up and around the ginger’s shoulders.
And the eye-contact, oh was it heavy.
Bruce had refilled his glass and awaited rather impatiently, “Are you just gonna stare? I might melt.” he found himself teasing.
“You can’t rush art, Brucie~” Jerome sing-songed, gripping his thigh and running his tongue down the inside of it from his knee to his crotch.
Bruce gasped and shivered, a sound escaped him, a whimper.
The redhead grinned with his gnarled lips, ducking in and licking him open, never looking away from his eyes even for a second.
The Wayne bit down on the rim of his glass, full on whimpering at every experienced lick.
Then he changed his angle, pushing inside of him and finding his clit, teasing it hungrily, somehow vibrating his slick tongue.
“Ahhhmmm-” Bruce shut himself up by taking another sip.
Jerome laughed a low rumble which sent even better vibrations into him, “Mmm~” he met his eyes again.
“Ahhh, fu…” Bruce writhed, eyelashes fanning over his cheeks as he shut his eyes.
Jerome pulled his lips back with a kiss, “Someone’s sensitive there.” he teased.
“Just-” Bruce began but he immediately got shut up by him leaning back in and sliding his tongue inside. “FUCK-” he covered his mouth with wide eyes, praying to god that no one heard that.
Then he slid it back out, still grinning up at him before going back in. He continued to tongue-fuck him, moaning into his clit purposefully.
Bruce felt it pulsate, just once, but he knew that if he felt it, Jerome definitely did, and he’d be on it like a hungry lion, so he gulped the remaining wine from his glass and set it aside, gripping the arm rests and bracing for impact.
“Mm- Legs open, Brucie.” Jerome advised, helping him put both legs over the arm rests.
He was completely open and exposed now, and the finale commenced.
The tongue-fucking continued but this time at an alarming rate. At this point it felt so incredible, Bruce didn’t hold back, he just whined and moaned, muttering his ‘yeah’s and ‘fuck’s.
It went so good in fact, he felt a finger slide into him, thrusting in and out as he moaned.
“There it is, baby. There you are~ Come for me~” Jerome pulled back, two fingers now finishing the job while his thumb massaged his clit, hand becoming slick with semen and leftover saliva.
He just sat back and watched the Wayne crumble, a grin on his face as Bruce finished, his fingers slowing down as his moans softened.
“Merry Christmas, Brucie. See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jerome teased him.
Bruce swallowed and licked his lips, “I guess not…” he sighed, still jittery, eyes opening and looking down at him, “You never told me your side of the deal.”
Jerome only smiled wider, “This. Just this. What? Think you don’t taste good? Think again, Darlin’~” he chided, standing up.
They ended up staying up later than intended, it was around four when they finished the whole bottle of wine, both violently inebriated. He hoped Jerome didn’t drive here alone because he was barely able to stand.
Bruce tried to help him to the bed, they both swayed and giggled like idiots with every step though, and that’s when he realized neither of them were going anywhere tonight.
He flopped the redhead down onto the bed, he was barely awake as he continued laughing.
“What?” Bruce laughed, tripping on his shoe and falling onto him.
“What?” Jerome laughed harder.
“What?” Bruce stopped laughing, fully confused as he just slid on his side.
“No… hey did you hear the joke the chicken told after he crossed the road?” Jerome then said suddenly.
“Huh…?” Bruce was falling asleep now, ear against his chest.
“He didn’t.” Jerome started to convulse, trying to hold in his laughter.
“What? Why?” Bruce smiled confusedly.
“Because he fucking died.” Jerome burst into laughter.
“Shut up…” Bruce passed out.
Jerome just laughed himself asleep, the two awkwardly hung on the side of the bed.
Alfred came in around 8AM to alert Bruce of breakfast when he saw Bruce dangling awkwardly in his sleep, he just shook his head and smiled, walking over to push up onto it fully.
“You’re gonna bump your head one of these days.” He mused quietly, then his eye caught the side table and spotted a second glass of wine, his eyes curiously narrowed and he glanced at Bruce’s sleeping form.
“I thought ya’d never get to it.” Alfred seemed a bit surprised, he just quietly stepped from the room and continued seeing the drunken party-goers out to their vehicles.
When Bruce opened his eyes, the room was sunlit and his head hurt like a mother. He scanned the room for signs of his companion but found none other than an empty wine glass on the side table closest to the window, he crawled toward it and saw the small sticky-note stuck to it.
He unfolded the yellow bit of paper to see what it said, it only had a couple words ‘Nighty-Night Brucie, don’t worry I didn’t crash Johnny’s doom-buggy off the bridge, I had a designated driver, and yes he was pissed at me. Love J.’
He found himself smiling at the note, glancing at the glass and seeing two aspirin in it’s bowl, he smiled and reached to dump the pills into his mouth, swallowing them dry.
Not such a bad Christmas Party after all, not a bad party, indeed.