Fic: Aches (Chapter 3)
Title: Aches
Author: lokiiago
Chapter: 3
Disclaimers: Not mine, no profit
Pairing: Wayne/Crane
Warnings: Anal, dubcon, bdsm
Rating: NC-17
Bruce licked his lips. "And...what conditions are those?" he asked as calmly as he could.
Jonathan leaned back into the bath, his cock barely hiding beneath the mountain of bubbles he had tastefully erected. He blew a bubble from his palm and smiled sweetly, batting his long eyelashes.
"Let's not be hasty, Bruce," he purred. "Come here." Bruce reclined once more so his head was on Crane's chest. Jonathan kissed the top of his head and held him close. He felt his smooth, slender body beneath one so solid and bulging with muscle. Bruce looked at him, their faces so near they didn't need to give voice to their emotions. Bruce's eyes burned and seared while Jonathan's remained docilely icy. His every feature seemed to sneer.
"Are you angry, Batman?" he asked. Bruce winced as the reality this villain knew his true identity fully soaked in. "Oh you certainly look it. Show me how mad you are."
Bruce closed his eyes and Crane could feel his heart racing a mile a minute as their chests pressed against one another.
"Go on," whispered Crane. "Hurt me. Like I know you can."
Wayne remained still, doing his best to calm down and think clearly. Crane sighed.
"Ah well. Just as useless at taking action as your father was, I see."
Bruce opened his eyes. "What?"
"Oh," Crane tilted his head innocently, "did I say something about how impotent and worthless your dear old Dad was? Silly me. I wouldn't want to say that! It would get you very upset to remember how he failed to save your mother and how he left you to die in that alleyway. What if Joe Chill had decided to kill you too?"
"I recommend," Bruce said through gritted teeth, his breathing heavy as a bull's, "that you stop. Now."
Crane smiled. "Is that what he said to Mr. Chill? Ah. A good thing too. Someone totally irresponsible and spineless would have just tried to reason with him. Someone totally apathetic to his son and wife's well-being would have--"
Bruce stood up and yanked Crane to his feet by his hair. Jonathan's eyes filled with stinging tears as Bruce kept his grasp and dragged him out the bath and to the bathroom floor. When Bruce let go, Jonathan's head was throbbing and tender. He went to put his hands to it when Bruce gave him such a slap in the face that he fell flat on his back. Leg in a cast or not, Bruce thought, this one had it coming. He straddled Crane, sitting on his chest and kneeling on his arms so he was entirely paralyzed and trapped. His blue eyes were wide as they could go, staring up into Bruce's steel brown ones.
"Apologize," he snarled.
Crane coughed, his vision still blurry. And he shook his head with a grin.
Bruce backhanded him, this time on the other cheek. Crane whimpered but that smile never left his face.
"I'll give you one more chance to say you're sorry before I make you sorry," Wayne said softly, his voice like dragon's smoke. "I suggest you take it."
"What will you do, Bruce?" Jonathan asked. "Bite me? Spank me? Both I hope," he giggled and Bruce had finally had it. He flipped Jonathan onto his stomach and grabbed onto his hips. Crane took a deep breath. How he had been hoping it would come to this. Still, he had to make sure Bruce went through with it.
He looked back over his shoulder, doing his best to make a pitifully apologetic face full of fear and submission. "What are you doing?" he stammered. "Oh please, wait, don't!"
Bruce spread Jonathan's legs hard and so fast the latter couldn't have protested if he wanted to. Crane's eyes closed as he felt the tip of Bruce's cock gently poke at the soft, tight spot between his legs. Make it hurt, he begged silently. Make me scream... No sooner had he thought this than he got his wish. Bruce had run out of mercy and dug into Crane without a rubber or dash of lubricant. Crane cried out despite himself as he felt like he was sitting on a hot pole.
"Ohh..." he moaned, choking on the pain. He reached out with his arms to try and hold onto something stable as his entire body was rocked back and forth with the thrusts of Mr. Wayne's hips. His cock was deeper inside Crane than he could have even imagined, so thick and long he was amazed he could fit it. Every nerve in him was shouting out, blinded by the pleasure of being at someone's disposal. He deserved this, he knew he did, and knowing Bruce's anger was real made it all the better.
"Please," he gasped, more tears coming to his eyes. "Gentle! Please be gentle, just for one minute!" And part of him meant it; his ass felt like it was being torn apart. But the other half of him hoped it would never stop. He hoped Bruce would do it harder.
But to his surprise, Bruce did slow down. His thrusts were measured and deep now. In that calm, where the slapping of flesh and the forced wheezes of breath had subsided, Jonathan allowed his emotions to take control. He began to weep, saying such silly things as: "I'm sorry, Batman! I'll be good!" Silly because neither statement bore any real truth and both men knew that. Still, it made Bruce's cock all the more hard to reply to these pleas with firm smacks to Crane's perfect ass. Crane would ooh! and ow! but hot as these whimpers were, it didn't measure up to when he caught a glimpse of the two of them in the bathroom mirror.
He saw himself riding Crane doggystyle, Jonathan's every smooth curve now in plain sight. He saw himself grasping onto Crane's hips and pounding the hell out of him. And he saw Jonathan's tears pouring down his cheeks as his mouth was kept agape in gasping pleasure and agony. He was close. He was so fucking close. He smacked Crane's ass again and when he heard Jonathan whimper, "It hurts so much..." that was it. Bruce bellowed out as he came hard into Crane's tight, warm ass. Jonathan cried out too, as the force of that final thrust was almost too much for him to bear.
When the movement stopped and they were lying down on the cool bathroom tile, Crane allowed himself to be spooned and cradled softly. They cuddled like this for what felt like an hour before Bruce started to sob ever so quietly. Crane turned around.
"And what do you have to be crying about?" he asked harshly.
Bruce grabbed him and held him even closer, to the point of near-suffocation. "I'm so sorry," he wept. "I hurt you, I never should have hurt you. I'm so sorry..."
"I wanted you to," Crane whispered.
"It's no excuse."
"Maybe that'll help my conditions go down a tad easier."
"Conditions?"
"Oh yes, remember? Those silly little things I said we could get to later? Well this is later." Crane then pinned Bruce's hands up over his head and slapped him across the face. "And my condition is this..."
TO BE CONTINUED
Author: lokiiago
Chapter: 3
Disclaimers: Not mine, no profit
Pairing: Wayne/Crane
Warnings: Anal, dubcon, bdsm
Rating: NC-17
Bruce licked his lips. "And...what conditions are those?" he asked as calmly as he could.
Jonathan leaned back into the bath, his cock barely hiding beneath the mountain of bubbles he had tastefully erected. He blew a bubble from his palm and smiled sweetly, batting his long eyelashes.
"Let's not be hasty, Bruce," he purred. "Come here." Bruce reclined once more so his head was on Crane's chest. Jonathan kissed the top of his head and held him close. He felt his smooth, slender body beneath one so solid and bulging with muscle. Bruce looked at him, their faces so near they didn't need to give voice to their emotions. Bruce's eyes burned and seared while Jonathan's remained docilely icy. His every feature seemed to sneer.
"Are you angry, Batman?" he asked. Bruce winced as the reality this villain knew his true identity fully soaked in. "Oh you certainly look it. Show me how mad you are."
Bruce closed his eyes and Crane could feel his heart racing a mile a minute as their chests pressed against one another.
"Go on," whispered Crane. "Hurt me. Like I know you can."
Wayne remained still, doing his best to calm down and think clearly. Crane sighed.
"Ah well. Just as useless at taking action as your father was, I see."
Bruce opened his eyes. "What?"
"Oh," Crane tilted his head innocently, "did I say something about how impotent and worthless your dear old Dad was? Silly me. I wouldn't want to say that! It would get you very upset to remember how he failed to save your mother and how he left you to die in that alleyway. What if Joe Chill had decided to kill you too?"
"I recommend," Bruce said through gritted teeth, his breathing heavy as a bull's, "that you stop. Now."
Crane smiled. "Is that what he said to Mr. Chill? Ah. A good thing too. Someone totally irresponsible and spineless would have just tried to reason with him. Someone totally apathetic to his son and wife's well-being would have--"
Bruce stood up and yanked Crane to his feet by his hair. Jonathan's eyes filled with stinging tears as Bruce kept his grasp and dragged him out the bath and to the bathroom floor. When Bruce let go, Jonathan's head was throbbing and tender. He went to put his hands to it when Bruce gave him such a slap in the face that he fell flat on his back. Leg in a cast or not, Bruce thought, this one had it coming. He straddled Crane, sitting on his chest and kneeling on his arms so he was entirely paralyzed and trapped. His blue eyes were wide as they could go, staring up into Bruce's steel brown ones.
"Apologize," he snarled.
Crane coughed, his vision still blurry. And he shook his head with a grin.
Bruce backhanded him, this time on the other cheek. Crane whimpered but that smile never left his face.
"I'll give you one more chance to say you're sorry before I make you sorry," Wayne said softly, his voice like dragon's smoke. "I suggest you take it."
"What will you do, Bruce?" Jonathan asked. "Bite me? Spank me? Both I hope," he giggled and Bruce had finally had it. He flipped Jonathan onto his stomach and grabbed onto his hips. Crane took a deep breath. How he had been hoping it would come to this. Still, he had to make sure Bruce went through with it.
He looked back over his shoulder, doing his best to make a pitifully apologetic face full of fear and submission. "What are you doing?" he stammered. "Oh please, wait, don't!"
Bruce spread Jonathan's legs hard and so fast the latter couldn't have protested if he wanted to. Crane's eyes closed as he felt the tip of Bruce's cock gently poke at the soft, tight spot between his legs. Make it hurt, he begged silently. Make me scream... No sooner had he thought this than he got his wish. Bruce had run out of mercy and dug into Crane without a rubber or dash of lubricant. Crane cried out despite himself as he felt like he was sitting on a hot pole.
"Ohh..." he moaned, choking on the pain. He reached out with his arms to try and hold onto something stable as his entire body was rocked back and forth with the thrusts of Mr. Wayne's hips. His cock was deeper inside Crane than he could have even imagined, so thick and long he was amazed he could fit it. Every nerve in him was shouting out, blinded by the pleasure of being at someone's disposal. He deserved this, he knew he did, and knowing Bruce's anger was real made it all the better.
"Please," he gasped, more tears coming to his eyes. "Gentle! Please be gentle, just for one minute!" And part of him meant it; his ass felt like it was being torn apart. But the other half of him hoped it would never stop. He hoped Bruce would do it harder.
But to his surprise, Bruce did slow down. His thrusts were measured and deep now. In that calm, where the slapping of flesh and the forced wheezes of breath had subsided, Jonathan allowed his emotions to take control. He began to weep, saying such silly things as: "I'm sorry, Batman! I'll be good!" Silly because neither statement bore any real truth and both men knew that. Still, it made Bruce's cock all the more hard to reply to these pleas with firm smacks to Crane's perfect ass. Crane would ooh! and ow! but hot as these whimpers were, it didn't measure up to when he caught a glimpse of the two of them in the bathroom mirror.
He saw himself riding Crane doggystyle, Jonathan's every smooth curve now in plain sight. He saw himself grasping onto Crane's hips and pounding the hell out of him. And he saw Jonathan's tears pouring down his cheeks as his mouth was kept agape in gasping pleasure and agony. He was close. He was so fucking close. He smacked Crane's ass again and when he heard Jonathan whimper, "It hurts so much..." that was it. Bruce bellowed out as he came hard into Crane's tight, warm ass. Jonathan cried out too, as the force of that final thrust was almost too much for him to bear.
When the movement stopped and they were lying down on the cool bathroom tile, Crane allowed himself to be spooned and cradled softly. They cuddled like this for what felt like an hour before Bruce started to sob ever so quietly. Crane turned around.
"And what do you have to be crying about?" he asked harshly.
Bruce grabbed him and held him even closer, to the point of near-suffocation. "I'm so sorry," he wept. "I hurt you, I never should have hurt you. I'm so sorry..."
"I wanted you to," Crane whispered.
"It's no excuse."
"Maybe that'll help my conditions go down a tad easier."
"Conditions?"
"Oh yes, remember? Those silly little things I said we could get to later? Well this is later." Crane then pinned Bruce's hands up over his head and slapped him across the face. "And my condition is this..."
TO BE CONTINUED