Custody

[creepylicious]

PART III. (age 16-17)

~one~
Wayne comes back from England all different. John can't put it in words at first. He is not happier exactly, but something has changed. And John feels like he's losing him. It's stupid.
And then it's not stupid anymore, but a real possibility.

~+~
“So, what's her name?” Andy asks.

“Bambi,” John answers with an eye roll. “I don't think that's her real name”

“Sounds like a gold-digger.”

“Oh please, I bet they all are,” John says. He's never seen a woman at the manor (because clearly Lindsey doesn't count), but lately Wayne has been going out (to be seen in public; like Alfred calls it) more often. And the kicker is he's going out with only one girl now.
Bambi.

“Maybe it's good for him to have someone. I mean, his last girlfriend was killed by the Joker.”

“She wasn't his girlfriend at the time. She was the girlfriend of Dent.”

“The guy who was killed by Batman?”

“Batman didn't kill anyone,” John says, a bit too sharply for his liking.

Andy lets it slide. After all Andy knows all about John's feelings for Batman. “You invested a few more hours to do research on Wayne's girlfriends, hmm?”

“I did research on Wayne. She was part of the research.”

“You just don't want to share,” Andy says.

“I share with you,” John points out, because it's true. John has no trouble to share Wayne. Wayne is still halfway across the world six months out of twelve. The time they have is, well, precious.

“With a woman, I mean,” Andy answers.

“What? What does her gender have to do with anything?”

“For nearly four years now, it was only you, Wayne and Alfred. No woman.”

“Hmm,” John says. Maybe Andy is on to something here. A woman would mess with their household. They’re just so different. “Maybe I'm concerned because she is not bad-ass enough to be with Wayne.”
Andy laughs.

~+~
John tries to see it from Wayne's perspective and from Alfred's. Because Alfred is clearly happy that Wayne is seeing someone at all. Even if John has the feeling Alfred compares Bambi to Rachel all the time, and Bambi just doesn't measure up. What John knows about Rachel, no woman, no one could measure up. Maybe that is why Wayne is with Bambi. She is just so different from Rachel; there is really no way to compare them.
John tries to be happy for Wayne. He knows, even if Wayne and he are similar in many ways, Wayne is not the kind who should be alone. Wayne has always had someone, a woman by his side, or was busy finding himself (and who can say it wasn't with women?). Except for the last four years. But then he had John to take care of.
Now John is nearly sixteen, not a grown up yet, but no child either. He can take care of himself. He has his own life that doesn't always include Wayne.
It's maybe time that Wayne has someone to talk to, to have sex with. Someone roughly his age.

~+~
John doesn't like Bambi, and he has the suspicion, the feeling is returned in kind. Bambi sure as hell didn't know that Wayne has a- John stumbles over the word even in his head - a ward, he settles on. An heir to his fortune. He knows he gets half of Wayne's stuff, Alfred gets the other half and then there is money set aside for orphanages and shelters. John's seen the will last year. And again last month. Juts to make sure. You never know with men who think they are in love, but it seems Wayne is still rational about it all.
John didn't think Batman would turn into a love-sick fool, but well, better safe than sorry.

~+~
John is sitting through the second awkward as fuck dinner in a fancy restaurant with Wayne and Bambi, and has no idea what to talk about with her. He thinks she doesn't even look like a Bambi, but that would not go over well. And when Wayne told him and Alfred about her, John has thought she would be younger. She is probably on the good side of thirty. Wayne could do better, John thinks. It sounds mean in his head. John doesn't even know what better would be.
Alfred obviously thinks it would be someone like Rachel.
John would be content with someone who wasn't so boring.
Wayne is talking about him and John tunes in again. Nothing else to do, really.

“Fencing?” Bambi asks. “Isn't that awfully dangerous?”

She is sooooooo dull, John thinks. “No, not when you know what you're doing and Wayne knows what he's doing,” John answers.
She makes a face, probably because John calls Wayne 'Wayne', or because he dared to say anything at all. He would love to make one right back at her. But he was raised better than this. Alfred would be proud.

~+~
“She is so dull. I nearly fell asleep,” John says, sitting down at the kitchen table. Wayne is with Bambi. He said he would drive her home. John took a taxi.

“She seems a bit superficial,” Alfred answers.

John snorts. “Yeah, you can put it like that. She's vain too. She only had a salad and fish that looked like it tasted like cardboard.”

“No dessert?”

“No, but she was eyeing my cheese-cake.”

“Miss Rachel always liked sweets,” Alfred says.

“I bet she was bad-ass.”

Alfred puts a mug of tea in front of John and then the tin with the good ginger-cookies. “She was.”

“I wished I could have known her. She sounds kinda like someone I could respect.”

“Maybe if you give Miss Bambi,” Alfred stumbles a bit over her name. John thinks it's because he put a Miss in front of it. “If you give her a chance maybe she will surprise you.”

“Hmm,” John says, but he really doesn't think so.

~+~
John's way to deal with the whole thing is to avoid Bambi as often as he can and still be polite.
Wayne catches on, of course.

“We just don't have anything in common is all,” John says. He's playing with a black knight.

“You are rarely home lately,” Wayne looks at him. “You're avoiding being here when she is.”

“What do you want me to say?” John asks, putting the knight on the table.

“I don't know. I just thought you would be happy-”

“I'm trying to be happy for you.”

“That is not the same.”

“No, it's not. Did you want me to lie?” John asks. He doesn't think so, but he is at a loss here. He has no idea what Wayne wants from him. He is trying to do what he can. He manages just fine. He is not in the way and he is not hostile.

“Of course not. I guess I was hoping, you two would get along better.”

“Well, it didn't turn out that way. We have to deal and this is my way of dealing.”

Wayne sighs. “Fine.”
If she is going to leave me alone, John thinks, I am going to leave her alone too.

~two~
“Bruce!” Bambi says, and John thinks any moment now she will stomp her foot like a child. He is honestly waiting for it to happen. “We have tickets.”

“John is fencing that day,” Wayne answers.

“I'm sure you've seen him fence a lot.”

“He doesn't have a driver's license and-”

“The butler can take him,” Bambi cuts in.

John's hands grip the small table in the hall so hard he is afraid he'll break something. The knuckles are white already. “Alfred,” he presses out and they turn to look at him. “His name is Alfred. And not the Butler,” John continues. She takes a step back before she catches herself doing it. John is pissed off and it probably shows on his face. Scratch that, it sure as hell shows on his face. She is silent for a minute, as is Wayne.

“Alfred,” she says, trying to stay calm. John can see the rage battling inside her. It makes something ugly inside him happy. He doesn't dwell on it. “Alfred can take him. We only have tickets for tomorrow, and it was hard enough to get those.”

“Bambi,” Wayne's voice sounds like he's feed up with this.

“Bruce,” she gives back, clutching her purse. They were on their way out to have dinner when the subject came up. John didn't think much of it, only informed Wayne that they would need to go half an hour earlier to get Eggert, because his brother couldn't drive him. And from there everything kind of exploded. And now John is ready to strangle that woman, because she makes Wayne choose between her and John.
John would never do that. It's stupid.

“Alfred can drive me,” John says calmly and makes himself let go of the table. Wayne looks at him, unblinking. “You've seen me fence a million times. Hell, you've seen me fence just yesterday as you wiped the floor with my ass,” John grins. It's a good memory, like all of him and Wayne doing shit together.

“See?” Bambi says pleased. “He's a big boy, he can go alone.”

“Are you sure?” Wayne asks.

John shrugs. “Yeah.

~+~
“I hate her,” John says over the phone. He's staring at the ceiling of his room again.

“You don't hate her,” Andy answers reasonably.

“Maybe not hate, but I really despise her. She makes me want to smash things to pieces.”

“Want me and Lindsey to come over?” Andy asks.

John thinks about it, but he doesn't think he will be good company. “Nah, it's fine. I'll see you two at school. I just needed a few minutes to rant.”

“Rant away then. What else are friends for?”

“Helping you move?” John asks.

Andy laughs. “I can't lift heavy shit and you know it.”

“I’ll let you carry my lamps or something.”

“I'm sure Wayne can afford to pay someone big and strong to get your stuff from A to B.”

“Yeah, he can.”

“And he can lift heavy shit too,” Andy says, gently.

“Yeah, he can,” John whispers.

~+~
It's stupid to miss Wayne when he's with Bambi, but he does, and he does envy her the time Wayne spends with her, even if Wayne tries not to cut the time they spend together.

“I'm sorry you didn't win,” Wayne says.

“At least you weren't there to see me lose,” John answers, looking up from the book he was reading and at Wayne standing in the doorway to the library.

Wayne smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “Yeah.”

“How was the museum, exhibition, whatever?” Just a few months ago Wayne would've taken him and Andy to see it. John tries not to be bitter.

“Not my taste, but I think Andy would've liked it.”

“Next time then, you should take us,” John says.

“I really should.” Wayne unfolds from the door frame and comes over. He looks like a predator when he does that, John thinks and suppresses a shiver. It's not fear (John knows fear), it's something else, but he can't place it. He presses into the chair and Wayne stops. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?” John answers. He makes himself relax. Wayne is still looking at him like there is something wrong with him. There is nothing wrong with him.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No,” John answers, because he isn't. He is mad at her.

Wayne nods. “Want to play chess?”

John shakes his head. “Wanna play Mario?”

Wayne smiles. “Yes.”

~three~
Lately when Wayne touches John, it makes John shiver inside like it used to do when they started being physically affectionate, but it's different too. Just subtly, but still. And John can't figure out what the hell changed.
Wayne is still his charming, messed up self - with a girlfriend that hates John and that John dislikes like no one else, but still: Wayne is the same.
The only conclusion is that John has changed.

~+~
John ducks when Wayne wants to ruffle his hair and feels sheepish he's done it. Wayne looks surprised but doesn't comment.
John thinks it's just a glitch or something. It'll be fine.
It isn't. He does it again and again, and when they're watching movies, he keeps his distance.

Wayne looks at him hard. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I'm fine.”

“But you seem,” Wayne stops like he is weighting his words, “distant.”

“I guess I'm growing up after all,” John says. He's read up on this. It seems to be natural to not be as affectionate when you are a teenager as when you were a kid. The thing is; he and Wayne are different. Nothing ever is as simple as that with them. He and Wayne started being physically affectionate with each other really late. So...John is at a loss. He just knows that he can't be touched by Wayne right now. Not until he figures it out.

“You are,” Wayne says.

~+~
“It's just so weird, you know? Because I have no problem with you and Lindsey being in my personal space, but Wayne-” John shrugs.

“Maybe your brain is punishing him for being with her,” Lindsey says. Lindsey, like John, doesn't like Bambi one bit. John doesn't know exactly why, but he doesn't really care either. He is glad she sees the whole Bambi business his way.

“That would be awfully childish,” John says.

“Well, duh. No one is immune to these kinds of things and you do want to make him see the error of his ways, right?” she asks.

John nods, he kinda does. Life was so much better before Bambi came along and carved out a space for herself in it with pick and spade and blunt force. “She doesn't fit in right.”

“She doesn't,” Lindsey confirms.
She is just so different from all the people John likes. It seems the only thing she wants out of life is having a good time and Wayne.

“I don't get why he likes her so much. Why he puts up with her.”

“Love makes people do the most stupid things,” Lindsey says.

Love? John thinks. It can't be love, can it? He looks horrified at her. He just knows he looks scary as fuck right now. “You think he's in love with her?”

“I-,” she says, “I don't know. It's a figure of speech.”

“But what if he is in love with her? What if she wants to be a part of the household?” John doesn't say 'us' because that sure as hell will never happen. She is too different to ever be considered family by John or Alfred. And he's sure she wouldn't even want to be considered family by him and Alfred. She would never accept Alfred as anything other than 'the butler'. No matter that he raised Wayne and John. No matter that Alfred is the only father figure that really shaped their lives.

“John, don't jump to conclusions.”

“I want her gone,” John says. She looks at him like she's a bit scared. He rolls his eyes. “I'm not gonna stab her in the heart with my fancy rapier.”

“I didn't think you would,” she says.

“Right.” He grins and she grins back.

~+~
John wakes up because he hears noises in the hall. He unfurls from the chair he fell asleep in, crosses the room, and then freezes in the door to the hall.
At first all he can see is the back of Bambi's head, and then the other details register: Wayne's fingers in Bambi's hair, Bambi on her knees. Wayne is staring at him. Right into John's eyes. Frozen too. John's brain makes the right conclusion on the spot: Blow-job.

“Don't fucking move,” John says. He can't deal with this. He sees Bambi freeze too, but it only half registers, because Wayne is still staring at him. What the fuck?
She doesn't move and Wayne doesn't either as John hurries to his room, staring straight ahead, not wanting to know how Wayne's dick looks in her mouth, or her mouth, or anything at all. He's seen too much already.

~+~
The whole incident causes a minor shit-storm. He can hear Bambi arguing with Wayne the next day on his way to the kitchen.

Alfred gives him a look. “Happy birthday John.”

John sighs, taking a sip of coffee. “Thanks.” He's finally sixteen. He can have it and he needs it too this morning. “I caught her giving him a blow-job in the hall to the library.”

“Your library?” Alfred asks, not even batting an eyelash about the blow-job. John figures Alfred's seen worse in his days.

“Yeah, that one. And I think she isn't pleased I am wandering the halls of the manor at night,” John snorts.

Alfred smiles. “There is cake in the fridge.”

John smiles back. “You are the best,” John says, standing up to get it. It's his favourite, of course it is. The day looks brighter all of a sudden.

~+~
John is trying to avoid the talk about the whole thing by not coming straight home after school, but of course it only works for so long.
Wayne is waiting for him in the hall, and a shiny dark blue Ford in the drive-way. It could've been such a good day, John thinks.

“We need to talk,” Wayne says.

John nods. “Figured.” He has no idea what Wayne even wants to say, but he knows that Bambi wants him to be on his way to a boarding-school tomorrow. So she can blow Wayne in every freaking room without any disruption. The thought alone makes John sick to the stomach.
John takes his usual seat in the library and waits for Wayne to start.
Wayne doesn't sit down.

“I am sorry you saw that,” Wayne says.

John is a bit confused. “What?”

“It was irresponsible of me and Bambi to do-”

“Have a blow-job in the freaking hall?” John supplies.

“Yes, that,” Wayne says, running a hand through his hair. “It won't happen again.”

“You mean you try to act like an adult for once? Or you're going to send me to a boarding-school?”

“You heard that?” Wayne asks.

Duh, John thinks and nods. “Yeah, she is kinda loud.”

“I would never send you away, John. Never.”

“But me being here messes with your love-life. She doesn't like me,” John says and after a second adds: “being here.”

“That is not her call. She'll have to learn to live with it. With you. I am not sending you away, John,” Wayne repeats. “Never.”

“Okay,” John says.

~+~
“You love that kid the most!” she says sharply and John pushes closer to the wall, so he won't be seen and holds his breath. The argument had been going on for good ten minutes now and John just hadn't known what to do. He hadn't wanted them to know he was there. By accident mind you, but still, it could look like spying and Bambi doesn't like him anyway. No need to get into a fight with her again - over nothing. That happens way too often.

“That's ridiculous, you can't even compare-”

“Now I am ridiculous?” Her voice is really high and shrill. John winces.

“I didn't say you,” Wayne answers and he sounds feed up with her.
Good, John thinks meanly. Wayne needs to get rid of her. The sooner the better.

“I just don't get why he has always to come first,” she says. A bit calmer now. She's trying to get on his good side again.

“And that is the whole problem,” Wayne replies. “I think it's better that Alfred drives you home.”

“Bruce-”

“I really don't want to talk to you right now, Bambi.”
There is a lot of silence and then John can hear her leaving. Her heels making that annoying sound on the marble floor of the hall.
“You can come out now, John,” Wayne says softly.
John bites his lip. But of course Wayne would know. He was trained by ninjas (John is pretty fucking sure of that).

“So, do you love me the most of all?” John says grinning when he comes out of his hiding place in the shadows.

“You should know,” Wayne answers.

John shakes his head. He does, maybe. They don't talk about things like that much. “I should.”

“I do,” Wayne says and John looks at his face. Wayne looks very serious as he says it, but there is also something like a flicker of pain in his eyes, only for a second, but John is sure he saw it. He wonders what that is about. Maybe about Rachel, maybe about his parents? Alfred? Does Wayne feel guilty that he loves John most of all the people he has feelings for at all? And that is only a handful anyway. Everyone should feel lucky as hell that Wayne cares for them.

John swallows. He steps right into Wayne's personal space and pulls him into a hug. They don't hug that often anymore, now that John feels he's too old (or something) for random acts of affection, but this moment here, it calls for a hug. John leans his head on Wayne's shoulder. John's grown quite a bit over the last year. Wayne smells like expensive cologne and his suit feels soft and clean against John's skin. John's hold tightens around Wayne a bit more and he presses closer still. Sometimes this doesn't seem to be enough, John thinks.
After a brief moment of hesitation, Wayne hugs back just as fiercely. John lets out a sigh of relief.
He's missed that, but he's also really fucking conflicted about touching Wayne at all.

~four~
John wakes up with a gasp, his dick painfully hard. He remembers hands on his shoulders and fingers tangled in his hair. Big hands.
He lies in bed and refuses to acknowledge what his wet dream was about. Who his wet dream was about.
The images don't fade. They are very clear in John's mind. He gives in, because he won't be able to fall asleep again, achingly hard.
He tries not to think about anything, but the dream steals into his thoughts anyway. He comes embarrassingly fast, biting back Wayne's name.

~+~
John is messed up about it the whole next day. He is distracted during breakfast and can't even look at Wayne. It's all Wayne's fault in the first place anyway for letting Bambi suck his dick where everyone can see.
John's livid only thinking about it. Thinking about her touching Wayne. He stomps on that feeling with all that he has and avoids Wayne for the rest of the day. And the next too.
Wednesdays are chess-days, so it's hard to come up with something to not sit down with Wayne. John's never ever missed a single chess-day and he doesn't really want to miss this one.
He sighs. This is so fucking messed up.

John takes one look at Wayne and knows this will be a serious discussion again. John is not in the fucking mood to talk about his feelings. About his misplaced feelings for Wayne.
“No,” he says.

“What?”

“No, I'm not fine, and no I don't want to talk about it,” John clarifies sitting down.

“With me,” Wayne says.

John sighs. “Yeah, with you.”

“Is this about Bambi? Or about the incident?”

“Wayne,” John says sharply. “I don't want to talk about it. What part of that was hard to understand?”

“But you want to play chess?”

“Yes,” John answers.

Wayne nods and sets out the pieces. He takes the black ones for himself like always. John doesn't wonder. Wayne is Batman, of course he'll want the dark pieces.
John loses the first game really fast. He just can't concentrate because he is staring at Wayne's fingers.
“John?”

“Yeah, I know. I am still thinking.”

“You are staring at my pieces,” Wayne says.

“No, not really,” John replies absent-minded.

“What?”

“Nothing,” John answers and makes his move. It's a bad one. His head just isn't in the game.

When he loses the third round Wayne puts the pieces away and looks at him. “John-”

“I can't. I'm sorry, I can't,” John says, leaning back in the chair. He can feel Wayne's gaze on him and it makes him flush, makes him feel hot all over. If he could, he thinks he would explode with all the tension inside his body. Any second now he's going to tremble with it all.

“There is obviously something on your chest,” Wayne tries again.

Yeah, there is, but John just doesn't think that telling Wayne he's jerking off to thoughts of him would go over well. Wayne has all kinds of issues himself and having his - John has still no idea what they are to each other - lusting after him? Would probably make him feel miserable. Or he would try and be understanding or whatever. John doesn't think he could take that from Wayne. To have his feelings explained away by him. It would be bullshit and they both would know it. You can't explain these things away. John is not a kid anymore. He is sixteen and then some. He is a sexual being and he feels attracted to Wayne. But that is not Wayne's problem. Wayne has Bambi.
John sighs. “I can't talk about it with you.”

“You can talk about everything with me. I won't judge.”

“Yes, you would. In this case you would,” John says. He's sure of it, because how could Wayne not? It is after all something that concerns Wayne directly. John’s feelings for Wayne can't be anything than unwanted right now.

“John-”

“Don't fucking pressure me,!” John explodes.

“Fine,” Wayne says, getting up. “You can come to me any time. You know that, right?”

John nods, but he also knows he won't tell Wayne.
This is John's problem and John's alone.

~+~
It doesn't go away. John thought if he could just go back to jerking off to strangers it would go away, but it doesn't work like that.
He finds himself watching Wayne. He watches Wayne with Bambi too. Small things like him holding her hand, kissing her cheek or her lips, or dragging her closer.
He tries not to notice how she melts into his arms, how she pushes against him. Until he realises she wants him to see this.
This is her way of demonstrating where she stands, where he stands, and that this is hers and he can never have it.
It makes John want to rip her heart out. He balls his hands to fists instead. He hasn't been so angry in a long time.
He throws himself into school-life and martial arts. He spends more time at Lindsey's with Andy or goes swimming, jogging, anything, to not be at home when Wayne is there. When she is there.

~+~
“I'm screwed,” he declares on a Friday roughly three months after the blow-job incident.

“Yeah,” Andy answers. John's just told Andy about the blow-job thing and about his fantasies and about how Bambi makes him want to rip her heart out. “You are. Why can't you fall for someone-?” Andy stops and takes a deep breath. “I know it's not like you can choose these things.”

“Exactly. If I could I wouldn't have fallen for Wayne.”

“So, what are you going to do now?”

“Jerk off to Wayne, and keep the rest to myself, and maybe try to get rid of her.”

Andy gives him a look. “Get rid of her?”

“Why is it that every time I mention that, you guys look at me like I would put a knife between her ribs?”

“Sometimes you can make a guy wonder,” Andy admits.

“I wouldn't. It would be wrong. Even she knows and provokes me with her actions.”

“She knows? Are you sure?”

“I am sure. She is displaying her-” John stops to find the right word, “claim on Wayne,” he settles on.

“Your claim is older. You had him first,” Andy says.

John laughs. “No I didn't.”

“Yes, you did. You claimed his heart: of all the boys in the orphanage he chose you. He loves you.”

“Not like I want him to.”

“Like he can. It should be enough,” Andy answers.
John knows that, but it's not anymore.

~five~
John nearly calls Bambi 'bitch' to her face and she looks triumphant about it.
He balls his hands to fists on the table and stares at Wayne in the doorway. This is escalating. Everyday a bit more. It's like it delights her to torture him, to punish him for loving Wayne. It makes John sick.

“What is going on?” Wayne asks in his no-nonsense voice. John used to call it 'the scary one' in his head when he was younger.

“Nothing, Bruce,” Bambi says with a sweet smile, stepping into his personal space like she belongs there. Like it's her right. John takes a deep breath.

“John?” Wayne doesn't believe her and he has all the reasons not to. He is asking John because he trusts John to tell him the truth. But John can't. Admitting to her torturing him, would mean he'll have to admit to his feelings for Wayne, and Bambi knows John would never do that.

“We were talking,” John settles on, because it is a version of the truth. And that is better than a lie.

“John,” Wayne says, removing himself from her space. She tries to grab Wayne's arm, but he sidesteps her with practised ease.
He's standing just on the other side of the kitchen-table. Only a bit of wood separating them. John can see Wayne's fingers twitch on his sides and then he plants his hands on the table top, close to John's fists. John can feel the warmth his body gives off. He uncurls his fingers slowly and lets them touch Wayne's. Wayne's shoulders drop. The tension easing a bit.

“It's okay,” John says quietly. “I can deal.” And he steps back, losing the contact with Wayne's fingertips, missing it already. So fucking much it hurts.

“John,” Wayne says sharply.

“I have homework to do and you have a date,” John replies.

“Bruce, we'll be late again,” Bambi throws in.

“And you don't want to be late again. I'm at Lindsey's over the weekend,” he adds as he practically flees the kitchen.

~+~
“I want to punch her in her stupid, smug face,” Lindsey says.

Jon loves Lindsey. Loves her with all his bruised heart. He grabs the pillow tighter and doesn't look at her while she rages on. He lets Andy stroke his hair instead.
“Nothing to do about it.”

“She's plain cruel and you need to tell Mister Wayne, so he can get rid of that bitch,” Lindsey says.

“I told Wayne I will be staying here the weekend, but if you and Andy-”

“Shut up, John,” Andy cuts in gently. “Of course you can stay.”

“Listen to my boyfriend. He's clever,” Lindsey says, getting up.

“Where are you going?” Andy asks.

“Kitchen. I'm getting us ice-cream. It helps when you're unhappy, or stressed out or when the world is generally a shitty place. It's how the female race deals with shit.”

“Pistachio?” John asks hopeful.

“Yeah, and if I have to steal it, I'll get it for you,” Lindsey answers.
John thinks she would dismember and bury the body with him if he only asked. She would steal the car and grab the money and run.

“You need to hold on to her,” he tells Andy.

“With tooth and nail,” Andy says kissing John's head.
John buries deeper into the pillow.

~+~
“You are spending a lot of time over at Lindsey's place,” Wayne remarks during one of the chess-games. John's really trying to only concentrate on the game and pieces, strategies, trying to outsmart Wayne. He won the first round today, but lost the last two.

“Yeah. You're spending a lot of time with her,” John says.

“Does that mean that you and Lindsey...?” Wayne ignores the barb.

“That is not even a proper question, Wayne,” John answers.

“Are you and Lindsey together?” Wayne asks.

“Lindsey is with Andy.”

“Are you and Lindsey and Andy together?” Wayne wants to know.

John looks up from the board. There is something in Wayne's voice that isn't only curiosity, that isn't concern either. There is something else.
“And what if? It wouldn't be any of your business.”

“I'm your -” Wayne stops, stumbling over the word.

“Yeah,” John says. “I don't know either what to call you, not even in my head. Because we are not parent and child. We never were.” That doesn't mean that John doesn't care, or that they aren't family. Their own weird brand of it.

“I want you to be happy. You used to be happy.”

“Before she came into our lives,” John spits out. He is so tired of the petty fights and backstabbing. He is so tired to be on guard all the time when she is here. This house isn't his home anymore. It is enemy territory.

“John, you need to try and-”

“I don't need to do shit. She hates me. She thinks I am a treat. She makes my life miserable because I-” he bites his lip, swallowing the confession down. “She hates me and I don't want to be here when she is here. I don't want this house that used to be my home become a battle ground, because she feels insecure for some fucking reason!” He gets up and then just stands there in the middle of the library. Shaking with all the suppressed need and anger, so much fucking rage and despair. No way can he concentrate on the game anymore. This is why John doesn't want to talk to Wayne about it. Wayne doesn't get it.

“You should have told me.”

“You should have noticed,” John gives back. “There is always a reason when someone close to you removes themselves. Always.” And it might not be fair to pin this all on Wayne alone, but John really doesn't care for fair right now. This is happening in Wayne's home. Their home.

“I tried to talk to you about it, you blocked every attempt.”

“I tried to understand this. To understand why you are with her? But I don't really get it. The only thing I can come up with is: she is not Rachel. She is so not Rachel that she could be another species.”

“Rachel wasn't perfect.”

“Because she left you for Dent?” John asks.

“John-” and it's a warning, but John ignores it.

“She was a good person. One that cared and tried to do the right thing, always. Bambi, she is insecure and plain mean.”

Wayne keeps silent and John waits, watching him.
“What do you want?”

“I want for her to not hurt me anymore,” John says.

“I still don't get how she-”

“She does, why isn't it enough that I tell you she is hurting me?” John says sharply. “What do you need? Bruises? Scratches? Cigarette-burns? I don' have those to show.” He takes a deep breath. He really doesn't know why he bothers anymore. “I won't come back home until she's gone.”

“John you can't just stay away.”

“Fine. I will sleep here and I will have breakfast here, go to school and spend the rest of my free time with Andy and Lindsey at their places.”

“You are going back to the orphanage?”

“It's Andy's home. It was mine. I can't be here with her.” John takes another deep breath and looks at Wayne. “I never wanted to be that person. That one who will make you choose, but I can't take this. I won't take this. The sane thing to do is to remove myself from this environment.”

Wayne closes his eyes. “I won't bring her home anymore.”

“Thank you.” John just hopes it will be enough.

~+~
It's not. She ambushes John after school the next week.

“You little shit,” she says, trying to grab his arm, but John is fast, he sidesteps her and is a few feet away before she can even blink. John thinks she might be drunk.

“I didn't do anything to you.”

“You want him for yourself and you told Bruce lies-”

“I told him the truth. You made my life miserable.”

She laughs. “You make your life miserable, because you're in love with him, you little faggot.”

John really wants to punch her, but he doesn't have to, because Lindsey does. “Wanted to do that since forever,” she says, shaking her hand out. “Hurts me as fuck, so I guess it'll leave bruises at least.”
John didn't even see her approaching. But he should have known that Andy and Lindsey would be hot on his heels. They saw the whole thing for fucking sure.

“Now he'll dump her for sure,” Andy comments.

Bambi is seething. “This isn't over. This is assault.”

“Go on bitch. Try. My daddy is rich and I'm a minor,” Lindsey hisses.

“Also: three people who witnessed you trying to hit a kid,” Eggert says lazily from the fence. “I would keep this to myself if I was you, but what do I know?”
John nearly smiles. Eggert's dad is an ass-kicking lawyer. She gives John a nasty look and then stalks off.

“Are you alright?” Lindsey asks.

“I'm okay. I just- fuck. She came to the school.”

“What a psycho-bitch.”

“I feel bad for her,” Andy says. But then Andy would. He is just too good for this world full of sharks. Thank god he has Lindsey to look out for his ass, John thinks.

Lindsey gives him a look. “What?”

“I mean, she brought it on herself obviously, but I think she really liked Wayne and now she messed it up because she was jealous of John.”

“Yeah, what was that all about?” Eggert asks. “Is she nuts?”

“I would say, hell yes,” Lindsey answers.

“She thinks that Wayne loves John more than her,” Andy says.

“It's true,” John throws in and doesn't elaborate.

“Should I tell my dad? Do you want to sue her?” Eggert asks.

“Nah.”

“Will you tell Wayne?” Andy asks.

“Maybe.”

“I'll wait with you until Alfred shows up,” Eggert says.

“It's ice-cream Wednesday,” Andy replies.

“That is a happy coincidence,” Eggert shrugs.

It's also chess-day, at least for John. John is sure Wayne will know as soon as he sees John that something is wrong. Nothing to do about it now.

~+~
Wayne hugs him in the hallway. John is too surprised to do anything else than hug back and he is glad he doesn't have to ask for it. He needs this so fucking much right now. Even if it hurts to be so close to Wayne and not being able to do anything about it.

“I'm sorry. Mister Eggert called.”

“I'm okay,” John mumbles into Wayne's shirt. He doesn't let go and neither does Wayne until Alfred calls them for cake and tea into the kitchen.

~+~
The whole thing with Bambi is hushed up and swept under the rug. John doesn't ask how. He's just glad it's over.

~six~
“You were right, John,” Wayne says on Saturday, a week after Bambi came to John's school and Wayne dumped her. “She wasn't Rachel and I wanted someone who wouldn't remind me of her.”

There is something in Wayne's tone that makes John look at him hard. “I do,” he says eventually.

Wayne stares at the TV, John stares at Wayne's profile. “Yes.”

“How?” John is really curious. He has no idea if this is a good thing, but you can't tell with most things like this at first.

“Because you always try to do the right thing, and make the people around you happy, even if it hurts you.

Suddenly John wonders how much Wayne knows. “I try not to take on more than I can endure.”

“The thing is, John,” Wayne says and turns his head to look at John. They are way too close John thinks, and suppresses the urge to lean in closer still. “You never know how much you can endure until you have to.”

“Seems, I break easily,” John jokes, but it falls flat.

Wayne grabs his neck and pulls him close, John buries his head against Wayne's shoulder: his mouth a bit open, damping the skin on every exhale. Wayne hugs him tighter for a few glorious seconds before he loosens his grip again.
“No, you don't.”
John wants to bite down on the exposed skin, or turn and kiss Wayne's neck, he exhales slowly instead and feels Wayne shiver. Easier than you think, John thinks.

~+~
John isn't sure if it's the absence of Bambi whose presence was like a wall between them at times, or if it's them, but things are shifting. Wayne is home far more often again, he and John are spending more time together. Not only on Wednesdays and for fencing lessons, but in the evenings too.
John blows his friends off and stays home with Wayne instead.
It's nice, even if it sometimes (all the fucking time) hurts to be so close to Wayne.

~+~
In John's defence no one ever uses the outside pool, except for him and Andy. Usually he would've heard the footsteps on the gravel or something, but as stated countless times before: Wayne was trained by ninjas.
The startled choked off noise makes his eyes fly open and somehow the shock of seeing Wayne there, watching John, triggers his orgasm. It takes him entirely by surprise. He bites his lip, closes his eyes and rides it out.
When he opens his eyes again, his breathing calming down, Wayne is gone. John is not surprised. He is shivering in the warm June sun. He wipes his hand on the grass and stays where he is, thinking.

~+~
Dinner is an awkward affair. Alfred gives them looks, but doesn't say anything. John wonders if he should apologize, but really it wasn't his fault. He is a sixteen, nearly seventeen year old boy, of freaking course he would jerk off and he had thought he was alone.
If Wayne has a problem with seeing John naked, then it's exactly that: Wayne's problem.

~+~
Wayne keeps his distance and John misses him. Misses the random acts of affection and sitting close on the couch. He wonders why Wayne is acting like this.

“You are being weird, because you saw me naked,” John says, playing with a pawn.

“No, not because I saw you naked.”

John looks up and at Wayne's face. “Because you saw me jerking off? I bet you watched a lot of people pleasuring themselves-”

“John,” Wayne warns.

John ignores him. “Or is it because I came watching you?”

“Can we just not talk about it?” Wayne asks, he sounds pained.
John nods.

~+~
Sometimes Jon catches Wayne watching him and he wonders. Maybe, just maybe Wayne is feeling something for John too. Something that is in no way parental love. Maybe he was feeling it for a while now and waiting? Holding back, because John is still a minor? Because John is Wayne's ward? John has no idea, but he thinks it's stupid.
Something needs to be done.

~seven~
John doesn't have a plan, but he thinks the film-premier Wayne is taking them to, might be a good opportunity to try and take their relationship a bit further. Maybe at the end of the night John can steal a kiss.

~+~
John is drunk, maybe not completely, but a bit (on champagne, no one asked John if he was old enough to drink) and Wayne is tipsy too. John knows it, because John knows Wayne.
He can't recall how exactly they ended up on the sofa in the library all over each other, but the smell of Wayne and his laugher against John's throat makes John want so badly it hurts all over.

“Please, please,” John whispers, and he doesn't ask for things often, and he never begged for anything, especially not here, not Wayne, but he is so close to begging right now.
He's hard and Wayne must feel it against his thigh. There is no way John can hide it, what with him being sprawled on top of Wayne. The thing is John doesn't want to either. What John wants right now is for Wayne to touch him, to press his lips against John's, something, anything.

“John,” Wayne says and his voice sounds deep and so familiar but not. There is something there and John would love to analyse it on any other day, but not now.

John wants to tell Wayne all about his feelings, how lately (ha!) Wayne is staring in all his masturbation- fantasies. How much John loves him, how much he needs him now. How he never wanted anyone like this, not enough to try, not enough to make the first move, not enough to plead and beg.
John licks the corner of Wayne's lips and sits up a bit straighter to look him in the eyes. “Wayne,” he says softly.

Wayne reaches out then, his big hand sliding from John's shoulder up to his neck, his thumb pressing into the hollow where neck meets shoulder, just above John's collarbone. If John's lucky it'll leave a bruise. John swallows. He knows that Wayne could kill him with his hands. But he never was afraid of anything Wayne would do, now, now he is. Or maybe he's afraid of all the things Wayne won't do.
Wayne's thumb is messaging circles into John's skin, absent-minded. Or deliberately. John really can't tell right now. The air is thick with anticipation. John knows that Wayne wants him too, right now at least. And that's all that matters anyway.

“You've never-” Wayne starts.

John interrupts by shaking his head a bit. “I've never wanted to.”

“So you don't even know what you want,” Wayne says.

John leans forward, against Wayne's hold on him. Wayne doesn't give an inch, it hurts; Wayne's fingers digging into John's throat, but John is angry now. He does know what he wants. Right now he does and he has known for a while. “You. I want you. I want you to touch me, I want you to kiss me I want you to fu-”
Wayne squeezes. It's a warning and John takes a shaky breath. He reaches out and grabs Wayne's head in his hands, tangles his fingers in Wayne's hair. Looks at him hard. “I am not your child. I never have been your child,” John says. He's not going to give up easily. Wayne has to know it. John is stubborn as fuck when he wants something and he wants this bad.

“You are my ward. I am responsible-”

John wriggles in Wayne's lap and Wayne hisses. A moan escapes John's lips. This feels so good. “Please don't make me beg, Bruce,” John says. He can feel, and see, even taste the second Wayne gives in.
The resignation of Wayne's resistance is all encompassing.
He drags John closer and kisses him. Wayne's lips are soft, but the kiss is passionate and hard. He tastes like expensive whisky and something sweet, John can't place.

~+~
This is not how John has imagined it in his head so many times. It's better of course, of course it's better, because it's real. Wayne's hands are big and firm and he knows what he's doing. John has no idea, he can just go with what feels right.
Wayne doesn't let him do much anyway. He is in charge here and John doesn't mind at all. He lets Wayne strip him of his shirt and manhandle him on the sofa so that he's lying on his back. Looking up at Wayne. He can't really see the expression on Wayne's face, because the light is behind Wayne. It doesn't matter. Maybe it's even better that John can't see Wayne's face.
Wayne leans down and kisses John again and while he's kissing John his hands are roaming over John's torso and down. Until they find the edge of John's dress-pants. John arches into the too light touch of Wayne's hand against his lower stomach and the sliver of palm that graces his hard cock. He moans as Wayne opens his fly and strokes a finger over John's dick. His hands clench around the arm of the sofa above his head.

“Bruce,” he gets out and Wayne kisses him hard like he can't help himself. He reaches inside John's pants and takes hold of John's cock. John nearly sobs at how good it feels. It's so different than when he does this himself. Wayne strokes him with practised ease. He starts slow and builds up, speeds up with every sigh, every moan, every clench of John's fingers, it seems. Like he's cataloguing every reaction. He probably is and John doesn't give a fuck. He's too far gone. And this is not enough. Not enough and Wayne is too far away, he wants to feel Wayne's hot skin against his own. He makes himself let go of the sofa and grabs Wayne's shoulder, pulling him closer, trying to get rid of the shirt.
Wayne doesn't cooperate, he speeds his strokes up instead, gracing the tip of John's dick with his thumb every other time. John's fingers dig into Wayne's shoulder hard. He is so close. He spreads his legs as far as he can with his pants still in the way to make it easier for Wayne, and turns to look at Wayne. Wayne is staring at his face, unblinking. Taking everything in. It could be creepy as fuck, but it makes John feel hot all over again. He isn't sure if he wants to come right now or hold back and ride the edge for a bit longer.
In the end it's not really his decision. Wayne does something John wouldn't even think about and John comes silently, biting his lip and closing his eyes, all over Wayne's hand.
When he opens them again Wayne is still looking at him. Wayne's hand feels heavy on John's thigh. He wants to never ever move again. Wants to stay in this moment forever because it's close to perfect.

“You,” Wayne says, leaning away and John grabs him with both hands to pull him in again.
John's a mess and tired and he needs to clean up and take care of Wayne. John slides his hand down and Wayne stops him. “Don't.” His voice sounds sharp, cutting, final.

John sits up and leans in to kiss him, which Wayne allows. “Don't feel guilty, okay?” he whispers.

“John-”

“Don't make me feel guilty,” John cuts in.

Wayne sighs. “I won't.”

“Can we sleep now?”

“Yes,” Wayne says, kissing his forehead.

John closes his eyes. .

~+~
Wayne breaks his promise at the first opportunity that arises. He goes on a fucking business-trip the next week without telling John. Alfred is the one who tells John. John is livid.
They talk on the phone, but John can barely speak with him for five minutes because he misses Wayne so much and his voice makes him shiver and Wayne refuses to tell him when he will be back. And John is fucking angry.
And then there is the fact that Wayne is seen with pretty women (John stalks the blogs and gossip-sites, okay?) nearly every night. As if to show John that their one night didn't mean anything. That it shouldn't mean anything to John either.
What a dick, John thinks.

~+~
When Wayne finally comes back, John has made up his mind about the whole thing. He is not strong enough to be hurting all the time. They have to figure their shit out.

“So if I wouldn't live here anymore, if I weren't your ward anymore, would it be okay then?” John asks and he's really pissed off now. Wayne always makes things too damn complicated. John wants this, he's sure of it. He loves Wayne.

“I don't know.”

John takes a deep breath to stay calm. “We'll see then.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm leaving.”

“John!”

“I'm leaving. I'm going on a freaking self-finding quest to Tibet or something.”

“Think about this. What about Andy?”

“He is going to college, he will go to university, he will be a famous artist when I come back. I am not afraid for him,” John says.

“John-” Wayne starts again.

“They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, I wonder if it will be true,” John cuts in.

“If you go, you'll have to manage on your own,” Wayne says sharply.

John looks at him disbelieving. “You're cutting me off so I'll stay? And you think this will work? How the hell can I live with you? Now? How can I be here wanting you to touch me all the time? And you denying it. How?”

“You think this is only difficult for you?”

“You make it difficult for us. This is all on you Wayne,” John says and sees Wayne flinch. He was looking for it. He wants to hurt Wayne right now so much. “You think keeping me here and wanting me and not giving in is something noble? It's not. It's torture for me, for you-” John stops, looking at Wayne hard. “You are so messed up,” he states.
This is Wayne's punishment for touching John in the first place, he wants to punish himself so badly for it that he doesn't see or doesn't care that it's not necessary, that he is hurting John in the process too.

“You knew that from the start.”

“Yes. But I won't stand for this. You want to cut me off. Fine. I can manage on my own. I am not staying with you here so I can be your reminder of guilt, of shame, of WRONG.”

“John,” Wayne says calmly, stepping closer.

John takes a few steps back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Don't. Don't touch me. I will hurt you.” He's probably still not good enough to win against Wayne, but he is good enough to do some serious damage and he doesn't want that.

Wayne stops. “You don't have to rush this decision.”

“I'm not jumping the gun. I am leaving. And soon,” he answers and hurries out of the library. He needs to say goodbye to Alfred.