(no subject)
He'll never tell anyone how badly seeing Rachel die affected him.
He'll never tell a soul that, even though he cares for Chloe more than he thought, he can't get past the fact that she healed someone, brought them back from death.
He'll never explain how much he needed to feel alive after it all, needed to know that he isn't just flesh and bones, two steps away from death at all times.
Of course, he has a hard time hiding anything from Rachel or Pepper so he just stops talking to them. No, correction -- he still talks to them, but it's not the same. Instead of going out there, and enjoying the room they've made for him, he finds excuses, ways to get out of spending too much time in close contact. The only time he's there, he makes sure he's drunk the entire time, cuddles with both Pepsi and Rachel, and leaves when Pepper's gone off to California. As it is, he texts them occasionally, calls Pepper on a weekly basis, lets them know what's going on with his life, but not everything.
Never everything.
He won't tell Pepper that he's reached new levels of promiscuity. He won't mention in conversation when she asks what he did last night, that he went to a one of the underground kink clubs in Gotham, right in the Narrows, and fucked nameless people with masks. He'll never understand what's wrong with masks -- they do a good job at hiding, at making someone less than human.
And right now that's what he feels like.
It's not even the daunting fact of his humanity that bothers him. It's more about the sheer lack of power. He had to stand there, idly by, as everyone else had a role. Everyone. He was the only one that didn't, him and Larry, and when Pepper told him about their fight, it was all Will could do to not side with Larry. When everyone is a superhero though, how can you be special? You can't.
At these clubs though, where there's no names, no faces, no nothing, he can be whoever he wants.
He's the guy with the strong lips who can bite without leaving a bruise.
He's the guy with the rough hands that can be delicate when trailing the curvature of a spine.
He's the guy with the ability to match any rhythm, any tempo, as flawlessly as if he set it himself.
Power is for those who can handle it and while he knows he'll never be a superhero, he'll take what he can get.
He'll never tell a soul that, even though he cares for Chloe more than he thought, he can't get past the fact that she healed someone, brought them back from death.
He'll never explain how much he needed to feel alive after it all, needed to know that he isn't just flesh and bones, two steps away from death at all times.
Of course, he has a hard time hiding anything from Rachel or Pepper so he just stops talking to them. No, correction -- he still talks to them, but it's not the same. Instead of going out there, and enjoying the room they've made for him, he finds excuses, ways to get out of spending too much time in close contact. The only time he's there, he makes sure he's drunk the entire time, cuddles with both Pepsi and Rachel, and leaves when Pepper's gone off to California. As it is, he texts them occasionally, calls Pepper on a weekly basis, lets them know what's going on with his life, but not everything.
Never everything.
He won't tell Pepper that he's reached new levels of promiscuity. He won't mention in conversation when she asks what he did last night, that he went to a one of the underground kink clubs in Gotham, right in the Narrows, and fucked nameless people with masks. He'll never understand what's wrong with masks -- they do a good job at hiding, at making someone less than human.
And right now that's what he feels like.
It's not even the daunting fact of his humanity that bothers him. It's more about the sheer lack of power. He had to stand there, idly by, as everyone else had a role. Everyone. He was the only one that didn't, him and Larry, and when Pepper told him about their fight, it was all Will could do to not side with Larry. When everyone is a superhero though, how can you be special? You can't.
At these clubs though, where there's no names, no faces, no nothing, he can be whoever he wants.
He's the guy with the strong lips who can bite without leaving a bruise.
He's the guy with the rough hands that can be delicate when trailing the curvature of a spine.
He's the guy with the ability to match any rhythm, any tempo, as flawlessly as if he set it himself.
Power is for those who can handle it and while he knows he'll never be a superhero, he'll take what he can get.