Round Two Prompt Post
Round Two Is Currently Closed To New Prompts
Welcome to 'Round Two' of The Dark Knight Rises Kink Meme.
This round will close when it reaches four thousand comments and after two weeks, another prompt post will open.
( General Policies )
Welcome to 'Round Two' of The Dark Knight Rises Kink Meme.
This round will close when it reaches four thousand comments and after two weeks, another prompt post will open.
( General Policies )
John doesn't want to, but he's settling into a routine at the manor and at school. He spends most of his evenings with Mister Pennyworth, who somewhere along the way became Alfred.
They're usually in the kitchen, backing, playing cards or talking. Alfred likes to listen to John's stories from school. John suspects that Alfred misses this, meaning a kid at home.
“Has Wayne a girlfriend?” John asks.
“No,” Alfred answers, he looks sad as he says it.
“But there is this picture of a pretty woman in the living room.”
“Rachel,” Wayne says from the door. John didn't even hear him in the hall. Wayne is a fucking ninja. He could be, John reasons. Batman had had to learn the moves somewhere.
“Master Bruce,” Alfred gets up and prepares a mug of tea for Wayne like he thinks Wayne will stay with them in the kitchen.
“Rachel,” John says. “So, why isn't she your girlfriend?”
“Because she's dead,” Wayne answers.
Oh, John thinks. Well, that would explain a thing or two.
Wayne steps into the kitchen and sits down at the table taking the mug from Alfred. Seems Alfred knows Wayne pretty fucking well after all. John wants to ask a million questions, but he doesn't think he has the right. He takes a sip of tea instead. Suddenly the kitchen lost its appeal. And its warmth.
Wayne is a gloomy guy. He didn't use to be that way. Maybe Wayne just doesn't bother with the mask in his own home. John wouldn't either.
“How long?” John asks.
“What?”
“Master John!” Alfred warns. Alfred still sometimes slips, or maybe he is using Master John to scold. Could be a real possibility, John thinks. He'll have to test that theory, soon.
“How long is she dead?” John clarifies, ignoring Alfred.
“A few months,” Wayne answers.
Which is super vague, John thinks. People like to use a 'few months' as an excuse. It could be three to nine. Or longer. “This the reason why you're wandering the manor like a lost soul?”
Wayne laughs and it sounds startled out of him. “That bad?”
“Dude,” John says. The 'duh' is totally implied.
“Maybe,” Wayne answers, taking a sip of his tea. Alfred looks at John and then at Wayne, there is something tender and warm in his eyes. Alfred gets them, John thinks and still isn't sure it's a good thing.
John is used to keeping shit to himself. Well, mostly. Andy knows stuff, but not because John tells him.
John lets it be. It's none of his business.
~+~
John does some research on that Rachel woman and what he comes up with isn't pretty. Of course John knows about the Joker, he was the talk last year. The terror was mostly kept at bay at the orphanage, but they weren't completely sheltered. John is pretty sure Wayne is Batman, was Batman (and John never believed the shit they tell about Batman now), so this would be able to break him. She seemed to be the love of his life. She probably knew too.
John closes the laptop and stares at the picture of Batman Andy drew him. Will he come back, he wonders.
Does the city still need him with all the new laws in place? John would say, hell yes. There is still a lot of crazy shit happening, John is sure of it.
~+~
“So?” Andy asks. They're sitting outside soaking up the sun.
“So what?” John asks, not looking at him. He knows what Andy wants to know, but he has no idea how to answer it without lying.
Andy sighs. “So, how is it being Wayne's son?”
“I am not his son.”
Andy punches him in the arm, but it doesn't hurt, because Andy never really learned how to punch someone and he doesn't want to either. It was always John who did the punching around Andy.
“What are you then?”
“No idea. His ward?”
“But why?” Andy asks and John knows exactly what he means.
“No idea. There are better boys at the orphanage, there is you.”
Andy punches him again. “That is not what I mean and you know it. I mean, why does he want to have a kid around? A kid that isn't his. I mean he can have kids, right?”
“I didn't ask!”
Andy laughs. “Maybe he thinks his family is cursed.”
“You have ideas,” John mutters.
“Maybe he sees something in you other people don't.”
“You see something in me I am not even sure is there,” John answers.
Andy looks around real quick and then presses a kiss to John's temple. “People are stupid,” he says softly.
John can't argue with that.
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I can't wait to see lots of romantic and sexy scenes when Bruce and John start to realize of their feelings.
Thanks for another chapter!!
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I have so much fun writing this.
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Wayne is still not really a part of his life. He is wandering the halls like a ghost or a man who lost his purpose. Which, when John is right and he knows he is, he did. Wayne is confined here. He did it himself, but this is still cellular imprisonment.
Alfred is the person who cares for John. Alfred is the one who makes meals and reminds him to do his homework and washes his clothes.
Alfred is the one who sits down for dinner with him, and sometimes Andy too, and listens to John's stories.
Alfred is the parent Wayne should be.
~+~
“So, when he dies, does John get all his money?” Andy asks at dinner. He's staying over again. Wayne has some kind of deal with the orphanage or whatever. John is pretty sure people do whatever Wayne wants them to do. He is just that kind of person. And he has the money to back it up. John's heard that Wayne once bought a hotel so his girlfriends could bath naked in the pool or fountain or something. John doesn't think Wayne is that kind of dick, but still, there must be something to that story.
“No” Alfred answers. He is amused by Andy. John is glad that Alfred and Andy get along so well. In John's opinion everyone ever should love Andy.
“Do you get all of his money?” Andy asks.
“Not all of it, but some, I guess, why do you want to kill him?”
“Only if John is going to inherit most of mister Wayne's stuff.”
“And then?” Alfred asks.
“And then I will marry John, obviously.”
John nearly chokes on his chicken. “Gay marriage isn't legal in Gotham.”
“Gotham sucks that way, but it's on its way to clean up nicely. I still have hope for the gay marriage thing,” Andy answers with a smile. But he does look serious about it too. John gets it. Andy wants for all people to have the same rights. Every orphan wants that, because they don't have it.
“Don't I have a say in this?” John asks.
“You don't want me to have a good life?” Andy says slyly.
“Sure, but I don't think I am marriage material.”
“Well, not yet, but maybe when you grow a bit,” Andy teases.
~+~
John wakes from a nightmare about his dad again and turns around, takes a deep breath and decides that it's okay to get up.
It's still dark outside, but it's Saturday and Andy is still sleeping, so he's really quiet and stealthy about the whole thing.
He grabs his hoodie and a pair of socks on his way out of the room and makes his way down to the kitchen.
It's too early even for Alfred, because Alfred likes to sleep in on Saturdays. Seems Wayne isn't up early much. No wonder, John thinks, what with the hours he used to keep.
He makes tea and grabs a roll from last night and wanders over to the library. They have an entertainment room, but John doesn't use it often. It's only in use when Andy is sleeping over. John likes to read and Andy thinks he's weird for it, but he doesn't judge. They watch movies on the weekends when Andy's there. He has usually an arm long list of movies he wants to see and video-games he wants to play. It's fun. It's like having a brother might've been.
“You're up early,” Wayne says from the chair in the corner.
“Did you even go to bed?” John asks.
“Yeah, didn't turn out that great.”
John smiles. He can't help it. Wayne has a weird kind of humour, but John gets it. Something inside John recognizes the darker parts of Wayne and relates to them.
“So, now you're stalking the shadows of the manor.”
“Could be a title for a mystery novel.”
“A bad one, sure,” John answers. He sits down in the empty chair and puts his mug on the table. He breaks the roll in two - it's cinnamon - and offers Wayne the other half.
Wayne looks at it for a few seconds before he takes it. “Thanks.”
“No big deal. You can have a sip of tea to go with it too.”
Wayne smiles. It's a small smile, but it looks real enough. John waits for Wayne to say something stupidly sappy, but he doesn't.
John exhales slowly, realising that he wouldn't have want to hear it anyway.
They eat in silence and read until Alfred comes down and with him Andy, looking sleep-warm and barely awake.
“I need coffee,” he says, yawning.
“You get tea,” Alfred answers firmly before he disappears in the kitchen.
Andy makes a grumpy face and John laughs, getting up to follow them. Wayne doesn't:
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John notices that Wayne is rarely around when Andy is there to visit. John has no idea if he doesn't want to disturb or if it's something else.
On the other hand, Wayne is rarely around. Period. Sometimes he's gone for weeks. On business-trips. John wonders what kind of trips that are. Everyone knows that mister Fox is running Wayne Enterprises for Wayne.
Maybe Wayne has to keep up appearances. Just because Batman disappeared, doesn't mean Wayne can. People aren't that stupid. Someday someone will put one and one together and it will make two.
~+~
“Did you get me something?” John asks.
Wayne gives him a look. He looks tired and worn out. He just came back from Shanghai. John would love to go one day. But Wayne never takes him on the business-trips. And the excuse is always the same: because you have school, John.
Wayne could easily take a trip to London or Berlin or Metropolis during vacations, but he doesn't.
“Like what?”
“I don't know? Something cool. Like a sword?”
“Isn't that a Japanese thing?”
“Are you going to Japan? Soon?”
Wayne laughs. He does that more often these days.
John doesn't remember the last time he thought they will send him back. It's been months already. Nearly a year and all the papers are signed. John is still John Blake, but he is also a part of the Wayne household. And that household is more like a family.
“No, and I don't think I can just get a sword-”
“Ha,” John interrupts. “You could take your own plane. You can get me a sword if you really want to.”
“Do you want me to?” Wayne asks.
John thinks about it. He has no clue what he would even do with a freaking sword. He shakes his head. “No.”
“I got you Chinese candy.”
“Cool,” John says, because it is cool. John loves candy and especially the exotic kind. “I liked the stuff you got me from Russia.”
“Ill try to remember the next time I'm in Russia.”
~+~
The first time John gets really into trouble is a few days after his thirteenth birthday. He punches one of his upper classmates in the face. Alfred has to get him from the principle's office. All the while he waits there are harsh conversations about his attitude and his bad behaviour. John doesn't regret punching stupid Matt in the face. There is still blood on his sleeve.
On the way home in the car he wonders if they'll kick him out, they're going to kick out Andy too. It would be a shame.
Alfred doesn't say a word, but he gives the principle a look and tells him Mister Wayne (all in capitals, John can hear him) will want a word.
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John was right all these months ago. The library is the room for 'serious discussions about life'. He sits down and waits for Wayne to star his speech.
“So?” Wayne asks instead.
“I did not break this guy's nose,” John answers.
“But you wanted to, why?”
“Because he's a dick.”
“A lot of people are, but you don't see me walking around punching them in the face.”
John gives him a look, but bites his tongue. Batman sure as hell did. So Wayne has no room to talk. But John can't prove any of it, so he keeps quiet.
“Is this about Andy?” Wayne asks.
Isn't it always? People are dicks and Andy is different. John nods. “Yeah. People are assholes.”
“Can't argue that, but you have to be a better man.”
“I'm thirteen,” John says a bit petulantly.
“You are growing up fast. In a few years you will be surrounded by people who are dicks for a lot of reasons. You have to find a way to live with it. Or fight it in a less violent way.”
“What you're saying is that I shouldn't get caught-”
“That is not what I am trying to say,” Wayne interrupts, but John really doesn't believe him. He's broken a million rules as Batman and he did it because he knew it couldn't be traced back to him. Suddenly John feels stupid for letting his anger win.
“I'll do better next time.”
“Good. Wanna tell me why you punched him and didn't break his nose? I have to plead your case tomorrow.”
“He called Andy a fag-”
“And you?”
“What does it matter? I don't care what they call me, but Andy takes shit like that to heart.”
Wayne nods. “There is nothing wrong with liking bo-”
“Oh please, spare me,” John says. “I know where babies come from and I know that you can't choose your sexuality. Besides I don't even think Andy is gay. It just pisses me off when people go around telling shit and trying to make someone miserable. You have to nip that shit in the bud.”
Wayne tries hard no to smile. John can see it. He likes when Wayne smiles.
“Can't say I will use these exact words, but bullying is not tolerated at your school, so I think you won't be expelled.”
John feels his shoulders loosen. He doesn't want to be kicked out of that school. He likes it there. Mostly.
“Okay.”
“Why did Matt Singer even start with this?”
John shrugs. “He probably saw us kiss,” he says and holds his breath. He doesn't think Wayne is a homophobic douchebag, but it's always easier to be tolerant and shit when it's not your own family.
Wayne nods. “Everything's going to be fine.”
“I know,” John answers. He knows Wayne will do his best. And his best is pretty fucking good.
~+~
John isn't kicked out, but neither is Matt Singer. They just try to stay clear of each other.
“Sorry, you got into trouble because of me,” Andy says the next day.
“Don't be stupid. You're the only person worth getting into trouble,” John dismisses.
“I don't do it because I'm in love with you,” Andy says, quietly.
John knows that. He puts an arm around Andy and lets him lean his head against his shoulder. “Don't sweat it.”
Andy laughs. It sounds a bit choked, but John doesn't pry.
Andy will tell him shit when he's ready to tell John shit.
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John's fancy school has martial arts classes and also fencing. He needs a permission slip from his parents for the last. He thinks about forging the signature for a second before he dismisses it. Wayne would find out, John is sure.
“So? Fencing?” Andy asks. Andy took art and pottery and creative writing or whatever.
John shrugs. He thinks he would be good at it. He could use an outlet for his anger too. “Yeah.”
“You think they will allow you near pointy, deadly objects?”
“People keep saying it's a pretty safe thing to do. It's an Olympic discipline.”
“I'm impressed you did your homework and all-”
“Oh shut he hell up,” John interrupts.
“Still, you think Wayne will sign that permission form?”
John nods, but he isn't sure. On the one hand: Wayne sure as hell learned some pretty sweet moves somewhere and can't throw the first stone here, on the other: he is John's guardian. People who care are funny sometimes. Still, John has a list as long as his arm why him taking fencing classes would be a good idea. He's going to state his case and is sure Wayne will see it his way.
“Wayne will,” John answers after a few seconds.
“Also, as we are talking about him now anyway. Don't you think you should maybe stop calling him 'Wayne'?” Andy asks.
John folds and unfolds the permission form for the seventh time and wonders where Alfred is. “What should I call him then?” John wants to know.
“No idea. By his first name maybe? You know Bruce. It's been over a year and he hasn't kicked you out. I guess he won't. And he still pays for my tuition.” Andy grabs the permission form and John turns to look at him.. “You could call him 'daddy' as he is your sugar-daddy,” he grins.
John rolls his eyes. “He is more your sugar-daddy, A. I just live in his house. We don't even see each other that often. When I am there, he barely is. He's always away on business trips.”
“I know he gets you awesome candy.”
“He gets us awesome candy.”
Andy looks at him hard. “You are his ward. He adopted you. Everything he does is for you. To make you happy. Even paying my tuition fees.”
“He likes you.”
Andy sighs. “I know. That is not what I am trying to say. I just mean that he cares about you. Like he should.”
John is spared to have to answer because Alfred finally shows up. They get into the car and Alfred starts to tell a story about how horrible the traffic was and then asks about school and if Master Andy is going to stay for dinner. Like that's a real question, John thinks.
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“So, I want to learn it,” John say putting the permission slip on the small table in the library.
“You want to take up fencing?” Wayne asks.
Duh, John thinks. “Yeah. I think it would be good for me.”
“To learn how to kill people the fastest with a deadly weapon?”
“It's good for body control too, and for training a lot of your muscles and-”
“Ballet can do that for you without the pointy sharp object aimed at your heart.”
“I don't think,” John says, “I'm the tutu type.”
Wayne smiles. “What is this about?”
John sighs. “I think it would help with the anger.”
Wayne looks at him hard, but doesn't say a thing for a while. John lets him think it over. There was some talk about a shrink a while back, pretty much at the beginning when John thought he wouldn't be staying anyway, but John had dismissed it. He still isn't going to tell a stranger all about how his father had been murdered in front of him. But the anger is still there, still eating at him, steadily. Surfacing only from time to time. John doesn't want to punch people in the face every time he is pissed off. That is not the kind of man he wants to grow up to be.
“Fine,” Wayne says after a while.
John looks up at him. “Fine?”
“Fine. I think it will be good for you. Sports form character and all that.”
“Isn't that told about team-sport-kinda activities?”
“You want to play soccer now?” Wayne asks.
“No,” John says. He doesn't think he is a good team-player.
“Competition and failure will teach you about life too,” Wayne answers.
John nods, if someone knows a thing or two about failure then it's Batman.
~+~
The martial arts class is hell on his muscles, but John likes it a bit when it hurts, when he can feel he's done something. It also teaches him a freaking lot about inner-peace and how to fake it. No thirteen year old should know that, probably, but John is glad. When he projects calm, people around him feel less aggressive too.
He suspects his trainer knows, but maybe he thinks that faking it is a way to inner peace too. Maybe it's even true for some people, for people who aren't as messed up as John is.
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glad you like Andy. <3
have another chapter. this is getting really long...
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“It's overrated,” Wayne says.
John stops on the pavement and looks at him. Wayne catches up a few seconds later.
“I think my heart just missed a beat,” John says.
“What?”
Andy is snickering. “You can not mean it,” John answers. “Overrated. My ass.”
“Language, Master John,” Alfred throws in.
John was so right. 'Master John' is only used to scold.
“It's the only real newspaper in this town,” John says, ignoring Alfred's scolding.
Wayne sighs. “I hope you don't think about becoming a journalist.”
“He wanted to be Batman when he was younger,” Andy throws in. That traitor.
“Really?” Wayne asks, looking at him.
People are starting to get angry around them, because they are douchbags blocking the pavement. Wayne doesn't seem to mind or be aware of it. John really has to ask him about that buying a hotel thing one day. If it's true, it would explain so much.
John shrugs. “I was seven. He was beating up the bad guys.” It should explain everything John thinks.
Wayne looks like he wants to say something but then someone bumps into Andy and Wayne is in a flash on his side, so he doesn't fall on his ass.
“Maybe this is not the right place to discuss - anything at all,” Alfred says. He has that disapproving look on his face again.
Wayne sighs. “Fine. The Planet and then we're going to eat something. I am starving.”
John does a small victory dance in his head. He is sure Andy and Alfred know.
~+~
Fencing is really fucking time-consuming, but John loves it. He loves that his muscles ache less and less the more time he spends training. He loves that his head is clear off anything else than fencing as soon as he grabs the rapier. He knows the steps, it's like dancing, but cooler.
John had been right, he is not the team-player kind of guy.
He likes to have one opponent, he likes to study them and look for their weaknesses.
He's good at it too.
His mind is quick and agile.
~+~
Andy waits for him on Wednesdays because his poetry seminar or whatever always ends earlier than John's fencing lessons.
John's hair is a mess and he can't find his other sock. Andy sits down and opens a book while John is still looking for his sock like a crazy person. Everyone else is gone already and they're going to be late at the gate again.
“A little help here?” John asks.
Andy puts his book aside and looks at John. “What are we searching fro?”
“The monster of Loch Ness, I just saw it in the showers,” John answers.
Andy sighs, long-suffering. He perfected that art since he and John became friends all these years ago. “Really? Because I always thought it would be bigger.”
This could totally be a penis-joke, John thinks. “My sock, Andy. I only wear one.”
Andy looks at John's feet. “Yep, but the other one is in your back-pocket.”
“What?”
Andy crosses the space between them and grabs for it, holding it right in John's face. “Back-pocket of your pants.”
“I don't even know how it got there.”
“I sure as hell don't either, but I have a theory.”
John raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
“You put it there,” Andy answers.
John pulls his sock on and and grabs his shoes. “Wow, Sherlock. Call me amazed to the bone.”
“I'm just that good.”
“You could be Batman,” John answers, deadpan.
Andy punches him in the arm. He doesn't punch like a small kid anymore, but it still doesn't hurt.
Much.
“Hurry up. I bet Alfred is waiting already and today is ice-cream Wednesday.”
“Like every Wednesday,” John says, but he does hurry up. He loves getting ice-cream with Alfred and Andy. And if Wayne is in the city they always get him the new flavour too.
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“So, I hear you're getting good at fencing,” Wayne says. John stops in the hall, he was on his way to the kitchen, and turns to lean against the wall, mimicking Wayne who is leaning against the door-frame to his study.
“You talked to Alfred, I am shocked,” John says.
Wayne smiles. “I see him sometimes around. It's like he lives here or something.”
John smiles back. He has no idea how long Wayne is going to stay this time, but he's going to make the best of it. “You didn't say you would come back today. We would've brought you ice-cream.”
“I forgot that it's ice-cream Wednesday here,” Wayne replies. “Andy still here?”
“Alfred is driving him home now. You'll have to make your own coffee and sandwich.”
“Despite the rumours, I am able to do that,” Wayne says.
“I believe that one when I see it,” John answers, unfolding from the wall. “I was on my way to the kitchen anyway.”
“Watch and learn kid.”
“Alfred did teach you, didn't he?”
“I am the master of the sandwich, John,” Wayne replies.
~+~
They end up eating sandwiches in the kitchen. John still isn't allowed any kind of coffee, because of some reasons he doesn't get at all, but Alfred insists. Alfred doesn't insist on many rules, so John tries to follow those that Alfred makes.
“When did he allow you to drink coffee?” John asks, taking a sip of tea.
“I was sixteen.”
“You're kidding, right?”
“Not one bit. Sixteen.”
“That is - what kind of rule is that?”
“Alfred's. I bet he has his reasons. He always has good reasons for doing things.”
“And you don't?” John asks.
Wayne takes a careful sip of his coffee. He is staling or thinking it over. John isn't sure. “Sometimes I do things because I want to.”
Like adopting me, John wants to ask, but he bites his tongue. Wayne sure as hell had his reasons back then. John shouldn't be so keen on figuring them out. This is a good home for him. No one tries to make him someone else. He is John Blake and that is the only thing he has to be here.
“Everyone does sometimes things because they want to,” John answers.
“I guess that's true.”
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