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Bruce shot up in bed, his heart racing and his breathing ragged. Each muscle was rock hard with tension, ready to fight off a nonexistent opponent. He looked towards the window, judging the way the sky is starting to light up. One hour until sunrise. He'd only slept two hours so far. Two hours of the screaming. The smell of gunpowder and blood. The sound of limp bodies hitting the wet pavement.
Bruce thought over last night's patrol, not understanding what triggered the nightmare. Gotham had been relaxed, calm even. It was a rare night. His city was only this calm once or twice a year. The only constant one being… June 26th… had he forgotten? A quick glance at his clock told him that he had. He lost track of the dates, but his mind always knows the anniversary.
A hand rests on his tense bicep and he turns to look at the younger red head who slept beside him. Wally slowly moves closer, as though he was approaching a wounded animal, and wraps his arms around Bruce's bare torso. Fingers trace over his scars, letting the older man's body relax.
Bruce brings his head to Wally’s shoulder, letting the younger man run fingers through his hair. The nightmare started to fade a little while he rested in his lover's arms.
“It's okay… I get it…” Wally’s voice came through in his ear, calming him even further. Wally had to be why he lost track of the date. This was still new, still something he was adjusting to. Wally makes him relax, makes his demons less powerful. Bruce still doesn't know if that's a good thing or not. Feels great right now though, having someone he cares for bringing him back to reality.
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Bruce sat at his desk in the cave, running through the last mission again. The League almost became the Lords. It was too close of a call. Wally had almost died.
Why was he doing this? Sleeping with a man almost a decade younger than him. A man who is best friends with the boy he adopted. He's known Wally since he was a teenager. Beyond all the fucked up things with that, why would he let himself get attached to someone so reckless? He never thought before he ran into a fight and brushed off his injuries and mistakes. Granted, it's not like Bruce is much better in that department.
A rush of wind blows through the cave with a crackle of lightning.
“You know I'm not gonna let you hide here forever. It's been a week Bruce.” Wally’s slender arms wrap around his neck and, despite how much Bruce didn't want to, he couldn't help but relax under the touch.
“I'm not hiding.” Bruce keeps typing, trying to ignore the red head nuzzling his face into black hair.
“That's exactly what you're doing. Bruce, we won. Luthor’s in jail. I'm alive. We know what we're getting into when we jump in the whole hero game. There are risks and shit. I'm still here though.” As few kisses land in the black hair.
Bruce stands abruptly, his forearm pressing into Wally’s neck and slamming him into the stone wall of the cave. Batman was in charge now. The man became the weapon before Wally’s eyes, showing the speedster exactly what the crooks of Gotham fear. He didn't need a mask or the weapons or armor, just the blank face with a body built to kill.
Despite the obvious fear in Wally’s eyes, he brings his hands up to Bruce's face, thumbs rubbing over the cheekbones.
“Bruce. I get it. More than you realize. Have you seen yourself? You're a Jackson Pollock. You can break your leg and you keep fighting. You come back from patrol and stitch yourself up like it's nothing. We could both die Bruce, but you're not pushing me away.”
Bruce feels as Wally takes his arm down, pulling him into his arms. As much as he wants to push, go back to his cave and let the bat take over, Wally’s hold is too strong. Still, he can't lie to himself. Bruce wraps his arms around Wally’s waist, giving into the hug and hoping that red head grips tighter.
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Rainwater dripped off his cape when he stepped into the window of Wally’s apartment, the water stained slightly pink from the dried blood on his suit. He was too slow. Couldn't stop it. Everyone else forgets how dangerous that clown is.. forgets that Gotham is afraid of him for a reason. Two of Gordon's men are dead. Their throats slit before his eyes. Joker is in Arkham now, breathing with assistance for a few months, but that won't help their families. Not really.
Batman silently made his way down the hall to Wally’s bedroom, standing in the open doorway. The young man was laying sideways on his mattress, his head hanging off the side. As the shadow passes over him, he starts to stir, pretending to stay asleep to fool any intruder. He can learn. Something tells him that Bruce would feel pride if he could feel anything at the moment.
Wally sits in the stillness for another minute before carefully peeking out, immediately sitting up when he recognizes his lover.
“Bruce? What are you doing here?” He reaches over and clicks on his lamp.The light washes over the bat, showing Wally the state his lover is left in.
Wally is by his side in a second, pulling him further into the room and unclasping the armor. The pieces fall to the floor, bloodstained water still dripping. Once the cape cowl is off, the bat fades away, leaving a lost Bruce Wayne dressed in a damp compression shirt and boxer briefs.
He meets Wally’s eyes for a moment before pulling him into a bruising kiss, holding him by his hair and lower back. They fall onto the speedster’s bed, legs tangling together as Bruce attempts to drown in the kiss. Wally’s hands slowly rub down the billionaire’s back, soothing him as they pull apart enough for Wally to whisper.
“I get it Bruce… I got you…”
For the first time, Bruce finally believed him.
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Bruce relaxes back in the large armchair of his study, the sun shining through the window as he looks through files. He has an early meeting with the Wayne Foundation board to prepare for and patrol that night, so allowing himself a peaceful afternoon was a well deserved luxury. One that was quickly disturbed by the familiar crackle of lightning and flap of pages as Wally speeds into the room. The only acknowledgment Bruce gives of the new presence is the slight quirk in the corner of his lips.
It takes about ten seconds of silence for Bruce to look up at his lover. Wally would be attempting to talk his ear off by now. He'd be touching him in some way. He'd most likely have already taken the file and sat in his lap. Instead, he's pacing the length of the room at normal human speeds, his hands are balled into fists, and his eyes are red and puffy as though he's been crying.
Bruce moves his file to the table and stands, pulling the speedster into his arms to still him. Wally nuzzles his face into the muscular shoulder and grips his shirt in his fists, letting out ragged breaths.
He's never been great at relationships, but this younger man still has his hooks in and they're not letting go. It drives him mad, but at the same time, he knows that he needs to attempt to be better. Especially now that this man, who is almost too much sunshine to be real, needs him. Bruce peppers kisses into red hair and down his neck before whispering the only thing he can think to say.
“I get it.”