Fic: Georgian Nights (9/?)
Title: Georgian Nights
Universe: Heavy Nolan with influences by others
Characters: Dr. Jonathan Crane, Bruce Wayne, Jeremiah Crane (Kid from the Narrows), Dick Greyson, Original Female Character, Original Male Character
Pairing: Jonathan/Bruce
Rating: NC-17 (full story)
Warnings: Graphic medical procidure, Romance, sex, snark, mentions/descriptions of psycological disorders, graphic depictions of animal testing.
Word Count: 18,947 (as of curent chapter)
Summary: Three years after the events of The Dark Knight and Bruce finds Dr. Jonathan Crane somewhere he least expected...Georgia.
Previous Chapters: Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Chapter V, Chapter VI, Chapter VII, Chapter VIII.
Chapter Nine: Someone Else's Story
In someone else's lifetime
Someone with my name
Who looked a lot like me
-"Someone Else's Story" Chess the Musical
"Be careful with that!"
"Are you sure that goes there?"
"I don't think the handrails attach to the foot! Yes I'm sure they're handrails! It's written on the side, idiot. Right there, Hand. Rail."
"Stop waving that around you'll break it."
"I'm not explaining to him why that doesn't work if you keep banging it into a wall!"
Jonathan blinked, standing on the other side of the door to his make-shift clinic, debating between wondering what the hell was going on inside or just running up the stairs, fleeing from the chaos. He took a deep breath and shoved the door open, startling the group inside.
"Papa!" Jeremiah yelled cheerily from where he was helping Richard put together a hospital bed, holding the handrail (despite what Richard thought it might be), waving it.
"What. Are. You. Doing?" Jonathan asked, angry in-spite of himself at the people in his personal space.
"Setting up your clinic," Bruce said from where he was fitting the attachments for one of the portable x-ray machines into their slots. He attached the last wand before standing, brushing off his hands. "What do you think?"
Jonathan looked around at all of the bright and shiny new equipment, beds, linens, supplies...everything he could have ever wanted for his clinic before looking up at Bruce, knowing damn well who footed the bill for the top of the line equipment. "Send it back," he hissed, turning on his foot and storming out of the clinic, leaving the others confused behind him.
Bruce chased after Jonathan, grabbing the man's arm, trying to stop him, only to find himself thrown against the wall, teary blue eyes looking at him in rage. "How dare you!"
"Excuse me?" Bruce asked.
"How dare you do this to me! Treat me like some fucking whoree. Did you think if you spent enough that I would give you whatever you wanted in return? That I would appreciate you reminding me how pathetic I am, that I can't even afford to open the clinic because I can't buy a few dozen bandages?" Jonathan sniffed, angrily wiping his eyes before running up the stairs, eager to escape Bruce.
"The hell?" Bruce muttered before chasing his boyfriend, finally finding him in Jonathan's bedroom, sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. "What is going on with you?"
There was a long, startled gasp before the man on the bed raised his head, eyes glittering in amusement as he looked up at Bruce before he leaned back on his hands. "What do you even care?"
"Scarecrow," Bruce said, threateningly.
"Bruce," Scarecrow countered before shrugging. "Ever think that none of this is worth it?"
"What do you mean, 'Crow?"
"I mean, excluding shoving a spray nozzle up Jonathan's nose, you don't know him. It's only been what? A month? And yet you're trying to buy your way into his bed or his heart, both of which are disgusting by the way, and for what? Jonathan's never going to love you or care about you. He hates you."
"He doesn't..." Bruce trailed off as Scarecrow started to laugh.
"Right, of course he doesn't. And just when, Brucey, did he ever give you the impression he cared for you? When he kissed you? When he held you in bed as you talked about Richard? Or what about when you two...oh wait, that was me. And just think, Bruce, each of those times occurred after Jonathan had been taken off his proper medications and was still adjusting to the new ones...when I was free,"
"Spit it out," Bruce growled and Scarecrow all but cackled in delight, sitting up.
"You don't get it! This is deliciouss, so much for the world's greatest detective!" Scarecrow stood, body loose limbed and relaxed compared to Jonathan's normal stiff, precise movements. He leaned close to Bruce, pushing the other man against the wall. "You're falling for a figment, idiot," Scarecrow said softly, his lips brushing Bruce's. "I'm the one who kisses you, not him. You're trying to seduce an enemy,"
"You're lying," Bruce said, feeling his heart clench in pain for reasons he couldn't figure out, nor wished to.
"He. Can't. Stand. You," Scarecrow said, before pressing his lips fully to Bruce's, groaning softly. "You are not worthy," he whispered in between kisses, using what little remained of his unclouded mind to shove Jonathan further under him. "You are MINE," And for once...Scarecrow wasn't sure who he meant.
"Thank you, for the equipment," Scarecrow said with a grin as he pulled away from the kiss, licking his lips. "I appreciate it..." he trailed his fingers down Bruce's shirt, fingers slowly flicking the small plastic circles free of their holes, baring Bruce's chest. "May I thank you?"
Bruce groaned at the casual innocence Scarecrow forced into the words as they slipped out of ever wicked lips, an arm wrapping around the smaller man to pull him close. He had no idea what he was doing, why he was giving into the younger man's game, but something about Scarecrow had Bruce twisted around the lunatic's pinkie and Scarecrow knew it.
Scarecrow grinned, licking his lips before pushing open Bruce's shirt, running his blunt nails over the man's tanned flesh, moaning softly as he drunk in the sight of the fiery red lines bursting into life on Bruce's flesh. Bruce reached down, gripping Scarecrow's jaw tightly as he tilted the man's head up, capturing his mouth in a hungry kiss, walking the other man back towards the bed. Scarecrow giggled as he fell back amongst the pillows and blankets, pulling Bruce down over him, groaning at the feel of Bruce's heavy weight pressing him down.
"I want you," Scarecrow whispered, kissing Bruce again, hooking a leg around the other man to roll them over before sitting up, straddling Bruce's hips, staring down at him as he gently started rocking their thighs together. Scarecrow wanted to tear into Bruce, to bury himself in the other man's flesh, bathing in the warmth of Bruce's blood as it coated his naked body.
Bruce gently stroked Scarecrow's thighs, allowing his fingers to slide under the other man's short to caress bare flesh, holding tightly as he dragged their groins harder together. "Then have me, 'Crow," Bruce said, watching as something flashed in Scarecrow's eyes at his words.
Scarecrow moaned, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he stilled his body, laying down to kiss Bruce, mouth working from the man's lips, to his neck, to the hardening nipples that Scarecrow had been day dreaming about. He wrapped his lips around the tender flesh, gently working at them with his teeth while Bruce writhed and moaned under him.
A smirk curled over his lips as he pulled back, reaching up go twist Bruce's nipples rather violently, giggling as Bruce's body jerked, hips bucking. "I see you like a bit of pain, Mr. Wayne," Scarecrow said, their hips grinding together, Scarecrow aroused by the thought of how much fun he could have with such a kink.
Dismissing it for now, he dove back in, licking a long line down Bruce's chest and stomach, pausing at Bruce's navel to circle his tongue around the area, yelping as he was almost unseated by Bruce's squirming as the other man tried to get away from the tickling sensation. His fingers pulled down Bruce's pants as he moved his mouth, gently stroking Bruce's length, before wrapping his mouth around the head, sucking softly, slowly, teasing Bruce as he looked up the man's body to Bruce's face.
Bruce groaned, raising a hand to run through Scarecrow's hair, gently pulling on it in punishment for the slow pace, before shifting against the pillows so that he could sit up slightly, watching his lover's work. The sight was something he had been daydreaming about since he had first seen Jonathan's lips. "Fuck," Bruce groaned, trying to thrust up into that perfectly hot mouth only to be held down by Scarecrow whom chuckled.
"Not yet, but maybe after," Scarecrow said, before licking a long line up Bruce's length, wrapping his mouth around him again as he slowly took Bruce deeper. There was a pause, a moment of hesitation before Jonathan swallowed, eyes rolling up to watch Bruce as he sunk lower, taking as much in as he could, hand stroking the rest.
Bruce gave an aborted whimper at the feeling of those ice blue eyes staring at him as Jonathan worked his length, gently running his fingers over Jonathan's scalp, encouraging the other man who started humming, causing Bruce to jerk again.
Jonathan smirked as Bruce reacted, switching his humming to a popular song he had heard from Jonathan's radio, pulling away fro a moment to rotate his jaw before diving back in, lapping at Bruce as the hand in his hair started to tighten, Bruce's hips fighting against Jonathan's hold.
As Bruce got closer, there was another hesitation from Jonathan, causing Bruce to growl in warning before Scarecrow giggled against Bruce's flesh, forcing Bruce deeper into his throat, gagging slightly before swallowing, sucking hungrily.
Bruce came, clutching at Scarecrow, bending over with the force of his climax, before falling back, watching lazily as Scarecrow climbed up his body, kissing Bruce hungrily. Bruce groaned contently, rolling them over and reaching down to stroke the other man.
-
Jonathan sat up, pulling Bruce's shirt around his nude body and setting his glasses on his nose before signing, gently brushing a finger down Bruce's cheek. "I could fall in love with you," he whispered softly. Standing, Jonathan started buttoning the shirt, trying desperately not to look like he was fleeing the bedroom as he headed downstairs for a cup of coffee, ignoring the snickering in the back of his head.
"You realize you just fled your own bedroom?"
"Shut up," Jonathan muttered, pouring himself a cup of day old coffee and sticking it in the microwave, watching as the blue ceramic cup spun in circles on the turntable. "What the hell are you playing at, anyway?"
"No idea what you mean,"
Jonathan snorted at the attempt at innocence in Scarecrow's tone, wrapping his arms around himself. "You're trying to push him away," Jonathan muttered, leaning back against the sink. "You're willing to fuck him, but not let him near me,"
"He's dangerous to you, angel. There's no reason for him to be near you. It's better he thinks it's me trying to get close to him, that way he can't hurt you,"
"And this doesn't hurt me?" Jonathan asked softly, listening in the silence that followed for some snappy reply before pulling his coffee from the microwave and heading out onto the porch, curling up on the swing, using one of his long legs to push against the worn wood before tucking the leg up under him, listening to the night as he sipped his coffee. It was an hour later when Scarecrow's reply finally came, startling Jonathan with it's suddenness.
"I'm sorry,"
Jonathan smiled, sipping the last of his coffee, not bothering to reply, instead leaning against the in-distinct figure curled on the swing with him, gently swinging as both he and Scarecrow simply relaxed with each other, content.
-
"I'm sorry about yesterday," Jonathan said softly as he stood next to Bruce, washing the breakfast dishes.
"Yesterday?"
"My...outburst,"
"Don't be, I should have asked instead of assuming," Bruce said, mind going back over Scarecrow's words, a sigh escaping him.
"It's not that I don't appropriate it, it's just...we've only known each other a month, Bruce, not counting what happened three years ago. I'm not sure what you want from me, especially when you do things like buy me something equal to the budget of a small hospital,"
"I don't want anything, Jonathan. I just thought it would be a nice gesture," He set down his dish towel, turning towards the other man, leaning his hip against the counter. "You said you read my files, that you know everything about me, I've done the same to you and I know what medicine meant to you. I didn't want to see you waste your skills just because you couldn't afford something I could easily give you,"
Jonathan opened his mouth to reply before closing it, thinking over what Bruce said, without for once looking for hidden traps or pitfalls. "Thank you," he whispered, before suddenly hugging Bruce, burring his face in Bruce's shoulder.
Bruce hesitated for a moment, before wrapping his arms around Jonathan's waist, burring his own face in Jonathan's neck, fighting the impulse to kiss the smaller man. "Just make sure you make it worth it," Bruce muttered, gently rubbing Jonathan's back. "There better never be another sick person in Greensboro,"
Jonathan laughed, pulling away from the hug slightly, looking up at Bruce, biting his lip before standing on his tiptoes, his lips mere meters from Bruce's before he was suddenly knocked out of Bruce's arms and onto the floor by two whirlwinds known as Jeremiah and Richard who had gone running through the kitchen shouting something about a potato canon.
Jonathan blinked from his place on the floor before getting to his legs and dashing after the pair, unsure wither it was to stop them or help.
Universe: Heavy Nolan with influences by others
Characters: Dr. Jonathan Crane, Bruce Wayne, Jeremiah Crane (Kid from the Narrows), Dick Greyson, Original Female Character, Original Male Character
Pairing: Jonathan/Bruce
Rating: NC-17 (full story)
Warnings: Graphic medical procidure, Romance, sex, snark, mentions/descriptions of psycological disorders, graphic depictions of animal testing.
Word Count: 18,947 (as of curent chapter)
Summary: Three years after the events of The Dark Knight and Bruce finds Dr. Jonathan Crane somewhere he least expected...Georgia.
Previous Chapters: Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Chapter V, Chapter VI, Chapter VII, Chapter VIII.
Chapter Nine: Someone Else's Story
In someone else's lifetime
Someone with my name
Who looked a lot like me
-"Someone Else's Story" Chess the Musical
"Be careful with that!"
"Are you sure that goes there?"
"I don't think the handrails attach to the foot! Yes I'm sure they're handrails! It's written on the side, idiot. Right there, Hand. Rail."
"Stop waving that around you'll break it."
"I'm not explaining to him why that doesn't work if you keep banging it into a wall!"
Jonathan blinked, standing on the other side of the door to his make-shift clinic, debating between wondering what the hell was going on inside or just running up the stairs, fleeing from the chaos. He took a deep breath and shoved the door open, startling the group inside.
"Papa!" Jeremiah yelled cheerily from where he was helping Richard put together a hospital bed, holding the handrail (despite what Richard thought it might be), waving it.
"What. Are. You. Doing?" Jonathan asked, angry in-spite of himself at the people in his personal space.
"Setting up your clinic," Bruce said from where he was fitting the attachments for one of the portable x-ray machines into their slots. He attached the last wand before standing, brushing off his hands. "What do you think?"
Jonathan looked around at all of the bright and shiny new equipment, beds, linens, supplies...everything he could have ever wanted for his clinic before looking up at Bruce, knowing damn well who footed the bill for the top of the line equipment. "Send it back," he hissed, turning on his foot and storming out of the clinic, leaving the others confused behind him.
Bruce chased after Jonathan, grabbing the man's arm, trying to stop him, only to find himself thrown against the wall, teary blue eyes looking at him in rage. "How dare you!"
"Excuse me?" Bruce asked.
"How dare you do this to me! Treat me like some fucking whoree. Did you think if you spent enough that I would give you whatever you wanted in return? That I would appreciate you reminding me how pathetic I am, that I can't even afford to open the clinic because I can't buy a few dozen bandages?" Jonathan sniffed, angrily wiping his eyes before running up the stairs, eager to escape Bruce.
"The hell?" Bruce muttered before chasing his boyfriend, finally finding him in Jonathan's bedroom, sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. "What is going on with you?"
There was a long, startled gasp before the man on the bed raised his head, eyes glittering in amusement as he looked up at Bruce before he leaned back on his hands. "What do you even care?"
"Scarecrow," Bruce said, threateningly.
"Bruce," Scarecrow countered before shrugging. "Ever think that none of this is worth it?"
"What do you mean, 'Crow?"
"I mean, excluding shoving a spray nozzle up Jonathan's nose, you don't know him. It's only been what? A month? And yet you're trying to buy your way into his bed or his heart, both of which are disgusting by the way, and for what? Jonathan's never going to love you or care about you. He hates you."
"He doesn't..." Bruce trailed off as Scarecrow started to laugh.
"Right, of course he doesn't. And just when, Brucey, did he ever give you the impression he cared for you? When he kissed you? When he held you in bed as you talked about Richard? Or what about when you two...oh wait, that was me. And just think, Bruce, each of those times occurred after Jonathan had been taken off his proper medications and was still adjusting to the new ones...when I was free,"
"Spit it out," Bruce growled and Scarecrow all but cackled in delight, sitting up.
"You don't get it! This is deliciouss, so much for the world's greatest detective!" Scarecrow stood, body loose limbed and relaxed compared to Jonathan's normal stiff, precise movements. He leaned close to Bruce, pushing the other man against the wall. "You're falling for a figment, idiot," Scarecrow said softly, his lips brushing Bruce's. "I'm the one who kisses you, not him. You're trying to seduce an enemy,"
"You're lying," Bruce said, feeling his heart clench in pain for reasons he couldn't figure out, nor wished to.
"He. Can't. Stand. You," Scarecrow said, before pressing his lips fully to Bruce's, groaning softly. "You are not worthy," he whispered in between kisses, using what little remained of his unclouded mind to shove Jonathan further under him. "You are MINE," And for once...Scarecrow wasn't sure who he meant.
"Thank you, for the equipment," Scarecrow said with a grin as he pulled away from the kiss, licking his lips. "I appreciate it..." he trailed his fingers down Bruce's shirt, fingers slowly flicking the small plastic circles free of their holes, baring Bruce's chest. "May I thank you?"
Bruce groaned at the casual innocence Scarecrow forced into the words as they slipped out of ever wicked lips, an arm wrapping around the smaller man to pull him close. He had no idea what he was doing, why he was giving into the younger man's game, but something about Scarecrow had Bruce twisted around the lunatic's pinkie and Scarecrow knew it.
Scarecrow grinned, licking his lips before pushing open Bruce's shirt, running his blunt nails over the man's tanned flesh, moaning softly as he drunk in the sight of the fiery red lines bursting into life on Bruce's flesh. Bruce reached down, gripping Scarecrow's jaw tightly as he tilted the man's head up, capturing his mouth in a hungry kiss, walking the other man back towards the bed. Scarecrow giggled as he fell back amongst the pillows and blankets, pulling Bruce down over him, groaning at the feel of Bruce's heavy weight pressing him down.
"I want you," Scarecrow whispered, kissing Bruce again, hooking a leg around the other man to roll them over before sitting up, straddling Bruce's hips, staring down at him as he gently started rocking their thighs together. Scarecrow wanted to tear into Bruce, to bury himself in the other man's flesh, bathing in the warmth of Bruce's blood as it coated his naked body.
Bruce gently stroked Scarecrow's thighs, allowing his fingers to slide under the other man's short to caress bare flesh, holding tightly as he dragged their groins harder together. "Then have me, 'Crow," Bruce said, watching as something flashed in Scarecrow's eyes at his words.
Scarecrow moaned, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he stilled his body, laying down to kiss Bruce, mouth working from the man's lips, to his neck, to the hardening nipples that Scarecrow had been day dreaming about. He wrapped his lips around the tender flesh, gently working at them with his teeth while Bruce writhed and moaned under him.
A smirk curled over his lips as he pulled back, reaching up go twist Bruce's nipples rather violently, giggling as Bruce's body jerked, hips bucking. "I see you like a bit of pain, Mr. Wayne," Scarecrow said, their hips grinding together, Scarecrow aroused by the thought of how much fun he could have with such a kink.
Dismissing it for now, he dove back in, licking a long line down Bruce's chest and stomach, pausing at Bruce's navel to circle his tongue around the area, yelping as he was almost unseated by Bruce's squirming as the other man tried to get away from the tickling sensation. His fingers pulled down Bruce's pants as he moved his mouth, gently stroking Bruce's length, before wrapping his mouth around the head, sucking softly, slowly, teasing Bruce as he looked up the man's body to Bruce's face.
Bruce groaned, raising a hand to run through Scarecrow's hair, gently pulling on it in punishment for the slow pace, before shifting against the pillows so that he could sit up slightly, watching his lover's work. The sight was something he had been daydreaming about since he had first seen Jonathan's lips. "Fuck," Bruce groaned, trying to thrust up into that perfectly hot mouth only to be held down by Scarecrow whom chuckled.
"Not yet, but maybe after," Scarecrow said, before licking a long line up Bruce's length, wrapping his mouth around him again as he slowly took Bruce deeper. There was a pause, a moment of hesitation before Jonathan swallowed, eyes rolling up to watch Bruce as he sunk lower, taking as much in as he could, hand stroking the rest.
Bruce gave an aborted whimper at the feeling of those ice blue eyes staring at him as Jonathan worked his length, gently running his fingers over Jonathan's scalp, encouraging the other man who started humming, causing Bruce to jerk again.
Jonathan smirked as Bruce reacted, switching his humming to a popular song he had heard from Jonathan's radio, pulling away fro a moment to rotate his jaw before diving back in, lapping at Bruce as the hand in his hair started to tighten, Bruce's hips fighting against Jonathan's hold.
As Bruce got closer, there was another hesitation from Jonathan, causing Bruce to growl in warning before Scarecrow giggled against Bruce's flesh, forcing Bruce deeper into his throat, gagging slightly before swallowing, sucking hungrily.
Bruce came, clutching at Scarecrow, bending over with the force of his climax, before falling back, watching lazily as Scarecrow climbed up his body, kissing Bruce hungrily. Bruce groaned contently, rolling them over and reaching down to stroke the other man.
-
Jonathan sat up, pulling Bruce's shirt around his nude body and setting his glasses on his nose before signing, gently brushing a finger down Bruce's cheek. "I could fall in love with you," he whispered softly. Standing, Jonathan started buttoning the shirt, trying desperately not to look like he was fleeing the bedroom as he headed downstairs for a cup of coffee, ignoring the snickering in the back of his head.
"You realize you just fled your own bedroom?"
"Shut up," Jonathan muttered, pouring himself a cup of day old coffee and sticking it in the microwave, watching as the blue ceramic cup spun in circles on the turntable. "What the hell are you playing at, anyway?"
"No idea what you mean,"
Jonathan snorted at the attempt at innocence in Scarecrow's tone, wrapping his arms around himself. "You're trying to push him away," Jonathan muttered, leaning back against the sink. "You're willing to fuck him, but not let him near me,"
"He's dangerous to you, angel. There's no reason for him to be near you. It's better he thinks it's me trying to get close to him, that way he can't hurt you,"
"And this doesn't hurt me?" Jonathan asked softly, listening in the silence that followed for some snappy reply before pulling his coffee from the microwave and heading out onto the porch, curling up on the swing, using one of his long legs to push against the worn wood before tucking the leg up under him, listening to the night as he sipped his coffee. It was an hour later when Scarecrow's reply finally came, startling Jonathan with it's suddenness.
"I'm sorry,"
Jonathan smiled, sipping the last of his coffee, not bothering to reply, instead leaning against the in-distinct figure curled on the swing with him, gently swinging as both he and Scarecrow simply relaxed with each other, content.
-
"I'm sorry about yesterday," Jonathan said softly as he stood next to Bruce, washing the breakfast dishes.
"Yesterday?"
"My...outburst,"
"Don't be, I should have asked instead of assuming," Bruce said, mind going back over Scarecrow's words, a sigh escaping him.
"It's not that I don't appropriate it, it's just...we've only known each other a month, Bruce, not counting what happened three years ago. I'm not sure what you want from me, especially when you do things like buy me something equal to the budget of a small hospital,"
"I don't want anything, Jonathan. I just thought it would be a nice gesture," He set down his dish towel, turning towards the other man, leaning his hip against the counter. "You said you read my files, that you know everything about me, I've done the same to you and I know what medicine meant to you. I didn't want to see you waste your skills just because you couldn't afford something I could easily give you,"
Jonathan opened his mouth to reply before closing it, thinking over what Bruce said, without for once looking for hidden traps or pitfalls. "Thank you," he whispered, before suddenly hugging Bruce, burring his face in Bruce's shoulder.
Bruce hesitated for a moment, before wrapping his arms around Jonathan's waist, burring his own face in Jonathan's neck, fighting the impulse to kiss the smaller man. "Just make sure you make it worth it," Bruce muttered, gently rubbing Jonathan's back. "There better never be another sick person in Greensboro,"
Jonathan laughed, pulling away from the hug slightly, looking up at Bruce, biting his lip before standing on his tiptoes, his lips mere meters from Bruce's before he was suddenly knocked out of Bruce's arms and onto the floor by two whirlwinds known as Jeremiah and Richard who had gone running through the kitchen shouting something about a potato canon.
Jonathan blinked from his place on the floor before getting to his legs and dashing after the pair, unsure wither it was to stop them or help.