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when bruce got home selina was sprawled out on their shared mattress, half covered by the blanket and sleeping more peacefully than he’d seen in weeks.
most nights, he’d leave her alone. most nights he would eat his half of their canned meal (she always wrapped it in tinfoil and hid it in the cabinet by the stove) and sneak into bed as quietly as possible. some nights he was lucky enough to keep from waking her at all.
tonight, though, was not most nights. tonight he needed her. the comfort her touch brought, the reassurance washing over him at the sound of her voice, the hope she filled him with at every glance.
therefore, he picked at his dinner and changed into pajamas before making his way to bed. as he approached selina he slowly pressed soft kisses up her abdomen where her shirt had ridden up.
selina, being a light sleeper, began to stir at the disturbance, but quickly realized who it was and let out of soft exhale. rather than reacting, she opted to card a hand through his curls lightly and settle into the warmth offered by his proximity.
realizing she had awoken, bruce moved to trail kisses from her collarbone, up her neck, and across her jaw. she smiled sleepily when his hair tickled her nose and sat up enough to meet him for a proper kiss.
bruce reacted with equal enthusiasm, cupping her jaw with one hand and returning the other to her waist. she nipped lightly at his bottom lip and framed his hips with her knees before drawing back.
he followed her, attempting to reconnect their mouths, but collided with her cheek as she turned her head.
“i probably have morning breath,” she croaked, her voice still rough and low.
he giggled, tucking his face into her collarbone. “it’s only 1:30,” he argued.
“yeah,” she started, “in the morning.”
“that’s…” he paused, looking down at her with his head cocked to the side. like a confused puppy, she thought.
selina couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking her head and pulling him back to her. she paused just before their lips touched, bumped his nose with hers, and asked, “how is everything?”
bruce visibly deflated at this, closed his eyes, and shook his head.
she sighed, stroking the sides of his faces with a featherlight touch. “ok, move over.”
he leaned his forehead against hers and squeezed her hip slightly. “cat…,” he mumbled, throat going dry.
“come on,” she replied, voice equally soft, “get off of me, bats. you woke me up, now i wanna talk.”
the bat thing was her new bit. she claimed his jacket made him look like ‘one of those crazy huge bats they’ve got in siberia or whatever,’ and had taken to giving him bat-based nicknames.
the fight with bane didn’t help. he grew to find it endearing.
he did eventually, begrudgingly, roll over so he was staring at the ceiling. she propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at him.
“so,” she started, tone more questioning than not.
he glanced over at her and raised an eyebrow. “you’re the one that wanted to talk.”
“b,” she replied, dragging out the ee syllable, voice in a warning tone. “what’s going on?”
bruce breathed heavily. “the same, i guess. government pretty much said they won’t help. jim’s doing everything he can, but there’s not much.”
“so… the same as always. what’s got you all bent out of shape?”
“lucius says if we can’t get anyone to send supplies we’ll be lucky to make it two more months,” he paused, biting down on his lip, not continuing until he felt selina’s fingers interlocking with his own. “we’ve cut the food rations as much as we can, but it’s running out. fast.”
she nodded. “so, unless we can find something, everyone’s dead by christmas?”
“looks like it, yeah.” he agreed, sounding weak. dejected.
hopeless.
selina didn’t his voice like this.
she leaned over him, close enough to feel his breath on her face, and grinned. “well, i always thought i was gonna die in some alley all by myself. figured the last thing i’d remember would be the sound of my skull cracking on the pavement.”
he almost interrupts, remembering when she told him about five pushing her out of the window. she had died that way, technically. she wasn’t speaking in hypotheticals. she thought that was when she’d die.
he let her finish.
“so, even if we don’t make it through december, at least starving to death with you won’t be so damn lonely.” she shrugged.
“starvation is one of the most painful deaths i can imagine,” bruce argued.
she snorted. “clearly you’ve never been shot.”
that sucked the air out of his lungs, memories of her bleeding out under him surfacing. memories of his parents.
“shit,” she whimpered, realizing the weight of what she’d said. “i’m sorry, bruce, i didn’t mean…”
“no,” he replied with a sense of finality, “it’s alright. don’t worry.”
she kissed his forehead anyways, a silent apology. she brushed stray curls from his forehead and dragged her lips lazily along his features. she saw the pain he held; saw the way it would sink into his bones and leave him shaking, reeling.
there wasn’t a thing she wouldn’t do to ease that pain. to soak it into her skin and breathe content into him to take its place.
but she couldn’t take away the hurt, especially not the hurt she caused. she wasn’t magic, this wasn’t a fairytale. she could never take it back. he would forgive her for everything, anything. he was so good.
all she wanted was to be a little bit of good for him. just enough.
“selina,” he breathed as her teeth grazed the edge of his jaw, “cat, come here.”
“i’m here,” she echoed, still kissing his neck and jaw.
he rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “come on, i’m not done talking.”
she huffed, like a child, but laid beside him anyways.
bruce held her hand to his cheek, pressing a chaste kiss to her palm and taking a deep breath before whispering, “you don’t know what you mean to me, sel. you’re everything.”
“b,” was all she could answer.
he stared back at her expectantly, like whatever she said next was the most important thing in the world.
“bruce,” she spoke again, voice even softer, “what’re you looking at me like that for?”
“i think we should get married.”
nothing in the world could have prepared her for that.
in fact, she was so startled that she burst into hysterical laughter.
she didn’t stop laughing until she saw his face, previously lit up with a hopeful near-smile usually reserved for her, fall and harden.
“oh,” he mumbled under his breath, “right.”
selina’s eyebrows furrowed as she stared down at him. “you’re serious?”
he stared back at her, crestfallen, “of course i’m serious.”
then it was her turn to let out a soft ‘oh’
bruce looked away, feeling the all too familiar burn in the back of his throat and his eyes. they were having such a nice moment, of course he had to go and ruin it.
“bruce, hey,” she groaned, sitting up on her knees and holding his face, “look at me, this isn’t… i’m not trying to reject you.”
he looked back at her with a confused expression, “but… what?”
“i don’t… it’s not that i don’t want to marry you, i guess,” she paused, running his thumb along his cheek, “i just think getting married right now is a little… ridiculous.”
he opened his mouth to argue but she pressed her finger to his lips before he could, catching him off guard. she traded a nervous expression for a small smile. it was the face she made when things were getting too serious. when she was fighting the urge to run. it was almost always paired with a change in subject.
“come on, batsy, let’s talk about grown up stuff when you’re actually a grown up,” she cooed, kissing his opposite cheek firmly. “i’m sleepy.”
bruce sighed, “ok, selina, whatever you want.”
she nodded, pressing a final kiss to his lips and curling into his chest. “goodnight, b.”
he smiled, “goodnight, sel.”
“i love you.”
there was a pause, and then he replied, voice full of a level of sincerity he only used when saying these words, “i love you too.”
-
six months later, when they were officially reunited with the mainland and no longer in danger of starving to death, selina was making bruce wayne a terrible host.
he didn’t particularly want a gala planned for his birthday, but, given he was becoming more active in wayne enterprises, it was only appropriate. he didn’t enjoy these parties, and selina wasn’t allowed to steal anything, even temporarily.
therefore, about an hour into the event selina dragged him upstairs and into a spare room. she argued it was because his room is the first place alfred would check for them, he knows it’s because she hated wearing heels and this room was on the lower level.
they were currently sat on the loveseat across from the bed, selina next to him with her knees in his lap and hands in his hair.
“sel,” he whispered against her mouth.
she hummed in acknowledgement, but continued kissing him fervently.
he pulled away with a soft groan, “selina, i have to make a speech in twenty minutes, i can’t go back there looking like i’ve been making out with my girlfriend for half an hour.”
“right, wouldn’t want to upset the aristocrats,” she teased.
“that’s not… there’s no aristocracy in gotham.” he argued.
selina giggled, “you’re so ridiculous. you’d really rather be discussing social classes right now?”
“well no,” he started, “but i’m trying to be practical and mature.”
“oh, right,” she nodded slowly, “because you’ve always struggled with maturity.”
he gave her a pointed look and leaned toward her again, brushing their lips together before pressing his forehead to hers. “actually, i was wondering if we’re allowed to have adult conversations now. yknow, since we’re both grown ups?”
“i see,” she tutted, “depends. are you gonna make me wear white?”