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 )
...
She looks terrible, John thinks-like sleep is a distant dream that’s already slipped away. He can already tell that tonight will prove no more restful than others, not for her, not for Selena who denies that there is a line, impossibility and that she should have run when he asked. But she is his sister and he loves her for her return, even as the kick between his shoulders knocks the breath out of him and sends him sprawling on the floor.
The woven carpet pressed to his cheeks is a work of art, something he would have eagerly stolen another time, different place. They were like that. She went for jewelry; everything else was fair game for him. They complimented each other and it was only natural that they worked together, two street urchins joined by opportunity and fate.
But for one, tiny, selfish moment, he wishes that they weren’t and could have gone their separate ways. As pain ravages his back, his raw hands and the mangled knees, he wishes that she could have gone and left him.
“We hear that you have aligned yourself with the Bat.”
“You heard wrong.” Selena answers, the stubborn set of her jaw giving lie to how afraid she is.
“Have we? And what are we to believe when you have been seen consorting with such... filth.”
“Why does it matter? He won’t even use guns. You have nothing to fear from him.”
“One does not need guns” Bane chides gently, “to kill. They do not need guns to instill fear in others.”
He knows what is coming. He’s anticipated it for some time. They won’t touch Selena, not when they need her to reel in the bat. John on the other hand is fair game and he is ready for it as Bane wrenches his face at an impossible angle, wheezing through his teeth as the other man inspects the fading bruises.
“It is a pity.” Bane says thoughtfully. “Perhaps our purpose would have been better served had we set the bird free and caged the cat instead.”
“Stop” Selena whispers, her voice quavering.
Bane lets him go. “Gag him”
They strip him of his shirt and tie it around his mouth. He glares hatefully at his captors while Selena snarls and curses at the men holding her back, looking as though she’d rather run headlong into oncoming traffic rather than be forced to stand and watch.
But this is the kind of shame he is used to and he kneels obediently even when his leg spasms and threatens to give out beneath him. There is no preparation, just enough that Bane will be able to penetrate him as his dick throbs against the base of his tailbone, heat flickering down his limbs in a mixture of dread and utter fear.
Bane’s mask scrapes down his spine, making him shudder, more intimate than the last girlfriend Selena threw out of their apartment citing differences, the fact that she was blonde, had bad hair and how he deserved so much better. But Jen had been fun, even if she was a little vapid, didn’t mind his kleptomaniac tendencies, the odds and ends lying about and the menagerie of animals he fed purely out of guilt and starved affection.
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...
They weren’t always thieves. They had been young once, their reaches not quite long enough to snatch the pan of meatloaf from their neighbor’s sill. If the past several days are any indication, they are young still, with bigger stakes, more to lose than their lives at their misstep. John claws the floor when Bane finally deigns to thrust in. And it feels like someone’s shoved the wrong end of a baseball bat (hint, there is no right end) up his ass, it hurts that much.
He spits out his shirt with an explosive gasp, frantically swallowing down lungfuls of air as though it might ease the hurt. But it doesn’t because it isn’t a vagina the other man thrusts against, nothing was meant to go up that way but they still try and he twists his spine in two in order to accommodate him. Bane is not nearly as kind.
Every whore has a favorite trick or two up their sleeve for making a john come harder, faster and even though he’s never had as many clients as Selena, something that gave his sister no small relief, he rolls his hips a little and gets into it as though he’s in an alley getting fucked and not whatever disaster that is happening to him right now. The carpet, he huffs, compressing air in his mouth and down his nostrils, is definitely new.
Bane grunts in surprise though he never loses his pace, pushing into him like he is an odd end of machinery rather than a living, breathing human being. John bites savagely down on his wrist, his shirt a dirty bib against his soaked chin. The blood pools thick on his tongue as he stifles his screams. He doesn’t need to see Selena’s red-rimmed eyes to know that he is failing.
In the background, Selena makes a sound like she is dying. Not even when the johns were rough with her, spat on her, raped her and treated her like dirt had she ever sounded like that. She reminds him of the pitiful nest of kittens Garfield had led them to in the rain. Two of them died and two had lived, a brother and sister pair that he had been tempted to name Kyle and Blake.
Bane thrusts in wet, intruding on his thoughts, something slick like blood and cum spilling down the inside of his thighs. He shakes, in pain, shock, anger, maybe a combination of everything as he tries to keep it all in. If he doesn’t, he thinks he’s going to scream.
When he finally cries out, it is because he comes against the Persian rug, ruining the weave. It isn’t long before Bane too spends his seed inside of him, scalding, like boiling water poured down his throat, searing his insides and branding it forever as his.
He doesn’t know where the tears are coming from. Logically, eyes, but that’s impossible because his can no longer see. He squeezes his face against the inside of his elbow as Bane pulls free with a wet pop, utterly shameless as he wipes a hand against the side of his knee.
John shudders when Selena falls upon him, tossing away her mask like it is nothing and pressing their cheeks together. He wants to lean into her touch but at the same time, he wants to push her away, deny her their ruin because she has done so much for him already.
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“Selena” He sighs, trying to wipe the lipstick away.
“Never mind that.” She hisses, laying him down against her lap and the Persian weave that chafes against his bare skin. On second thought, he thinks hollowly, maybe he wouldn’t have stolen the dammed thing. “Get him some help!” She shouts to the men standing in rings around them, watching curiously as they might two swans stranded in ice. “You’ve made your point.”
“He will live.” Bane says carelessly, gesturing to the windows as though dismissing her. But his sister is not a person to be denied.
“No! He will not ‘live’ if you’ve torn something important like I don’t know, his bowels!?”
“Gross” He mutters. She shushes him.
“He will be taken care of.” Bane says and that is the end of the argument.
“John, John, I’m coming back for you.”
“You still owe me a new pair of sunglasses.”
“I will buy you a hundred of those damned glasses.” She swears, hugging him tight past the blood and the jizz that clings to her catsuit. “Just hang in there okay? Promise me. I’m going to get you out. We’ll get through this together and we’ll start fresh. Anywhere you want.”
“Even Jersey?”
“Even if I have to fight Snooki myself.”
“I love you.” He says suddenly, just in case because he is so tired and knows that she won’t be here to wake him out. And as though she finds the dreadful providence in his eyes, she sobs,
“I love you too.”
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