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Selina Kyle wakes in the early hours of the morning to the sound of thunder, of rain pouring against the window. She shivers and tucks herself a little deeper into the blankets. Once upon a time, a night like this meant a leaky roof and rattling windows. She used to have to put out pots to catch the drips. She used to have to cover her stuff in plastic tarps to keep everything from being ruined by the water.
But now she’s safe. She’s warm. She feels the moving chest behind her, feels the hot breath on her neck, hears Bruce’s sleepy little murmurs, and knows that she can rest easy here. She closes her eyes and settles back against him, and smiles to herself when, in his sleep, he automatically shifts closer to her.
Bruce loves to think he’s tough and disciplined, but the truth is, he’s the world’s biggest marshmallow once you get past the armor. He’s a protective boyfriend, a gentle lover. Nothing at all like what the press would have you believe about the Batman.
Selina rolls over and tucks her head up under his chin. She loves that she’s just small enough to do this, that the height difference between them is so… perfect. Bruce’s wiry, slender arm wraps tighter around her. She reaches up and trails her hand down his back. For all he looks so big and intimidating in the suit, without his armor he’s surprisingly soft and slender.
It’s all right. Selina’s always liked a man who’s in touch with his vulnerable side. Bruce is…halfway there, bless him. Still likes to use his pain as a shield, unfortunately. But it’s okay. He’s getting better. And she feels privileged to witness it.
There’s a little flutter in her stomach. The tiniest little rumble. She shifts a little so she can get a hand between her belly and Bruce’s, so she can touch the round swell of her once-flat midriff. “Hi there,” she whispers, and her heart trips at the answering flutter. No one can feel the baby move yet. No one but her. It’s too early for Bruce to feel the kicks. But soon enough, he will.
Selina opens her eyes and reaches up to trace the curve of her lover’s neck, the sharp edge of his jaw. He’s vulnerable in his sleep, soft and childlike, his mouth formed into a soft pout, his eyes fluttery, his brow smooth. Selina loves him like this, and she sees it so rarely. He gets up to patrol a lot of nights, but sometimes if he feels like she needs him more, he’ll stay home and sleep all night with her.
She loves it when he chooses her over Gotham, though she’d never say as much to him.
Her thumb strokes his lower lip. She used to have sharp nails. Claws. Another layer of protection. Now, Bruce pays for her manicures. Tonight, her nail polish is a metallic mint green that looks almost white in the moonlight. Her hair has grown out just a little, and is now tended by a stylist who comes weekly to the Wayne mansion just to see her.
Selina used to hate people who had such luxuries. She hated when the rich men who came to the Iceberg bought her expensive drinks or delivered her expensive jewelry or lingerie as a tribute. Useless peacocking, all of it. But considering what else Bruce spends his money on, well. Selina finds she doesn’t mind that he spends a little more on her and their baby.
Last week he helped her decorate the nursery. They chose a soft blue-green color for the walls and a delicate, sunny yellow for the bedding and the accessories. The ceiling is painted dark blue and dotted with constellations of glow-in-the-dark stars, and the curtains are an airy lavender fabric that looks more appropriate for a ballerina’s dress than a nursery’s window treatments. It’s a pastel colored oasis in the darkness of the lonely Wayne Manor. Selina knows Bruce did it up this way for her, and she appreciates that.
She lowers her hand to his chest and feels his heartbeat. It’s slow and perfectly rhythmic. The first time they slept together, it wasn’t this steady even in sleep. It raced when he dreamed and slowed when he woke up and forced himself to be calm. He thought he had iron control over his emotions back then. Now, Selina has seen him cry twice. It melts her heart and breaks it at the same time. She wishes she could take his pain away, but she can’t. No more than he can close the wounds of her past.
But she can act as a balm for him, the way he does for her, and sometimes, that’s all either of them needs.
Bruce’s eyes flutter open at the next clap of thunder. Selina’s thumb is still ghosting across his lower lip, and he smiles under the touch. He doesn’t say anything. Just reaches down and touches the baby bump with a question in his sleepy eyes— are they all right? —and Selina answers by dropping her hand to her belly to cover his, and giving it a reassuring squeeze— yes, the baby’s okay.
Bruce presses his cheek to her forehead and wraps both arms around her, closing her in the tightest embrace he knows she will allow. He’s always so careful to never make her feel trapped, in any way. He’s never once proposed marriage, never tried to legally tie her to him, and it makes her feel better about the fact that they’re tied together with a child. Maybe someday…but no…that’s not something she’ll let herself think of right now.
Instead she presses her cheek to the hollow of his throat and wraps her leg around his, and lets herself luxuriate in the warmth of his arms. She doesn’t say I love you, not yet, but she feels it, and she knows he feels it too, and for right now, they both feel safer with it going unsaid. It’s all right. You don’t have to say it in order to feel it.
The baby settles in her belly, content. Selina closes her eyes. The rain pounds against the window. Bruce’s heart beats steadily beneath her ear. This is what it feels like, she knows, to be loved—and of all the luxuries she never thought she’d have, this one is the most coveted, and she will cherish it to her last breath.