Work Text:
1. forehead
Bruce cards the strands away from Damian’s eyes the way he imagines Talia used to, before leaning down to press a kiss to his son’s forehead. When he’s asleep, it becomes more apparent that Damian’s face is still baby-soft. Bruce’s strong jaw and Talia’s incisive eyes and Mother’s nose and Ra’s’ cheekbones — it all mellows out under the embrace of sleep. It becomes so excruciatingly evident that Bruce’s child is exactly that: just a child. Bruce wishes he could provide Damian with the ordinary life they were both denied, but his son would never give up his chance to fly.
2. cheek
Alfred is magic.
Bruce has been convinced of this fact ever since Alfred made all the stains and spots vanish from the clothes Bruce wore while doing spywork beneath Mother’s hydrangeas.
He’s even more sure now, when Alfred makes a cookie mysteriously reappear after Father said they were all gone.
“Master Bruce,” Alfred whispers to him as he hands over the beautiful prize, “you mustn't hide your vegetables in a napkin anymore.”
Bruce nods obediently, before clambering up to stand atop the kitchen stool. Before Alfred can scold him, Bruce mashes a thank you kiss to his cheek and escapes.
3. hand
Bruce’s heart beats so heavily in his chest. His lips feel dry in the chilled air, but his skin is so warm under Talia’s touch. She can surely feel his runaway pulse.
Talia always holds Bruce’s hands so delicately in her own. As if she finds him precious, fragile, despite her admiration for his physical prowess and analytical mind. This time is no different, even when Bruce lifts her elegant fingers to leave a chaste kiss on the back of her hand. Her crystalline laugh caresses him as gently as her palm does his cheek when she draws him closer.
4. injury
Dick, wrapped in his duckling-yellow cape, looks particularly small seated on the cot. Bruce looks at his scrunched face and wonders again if letting Dick join him is truly the right choice. It’s too late tonight to second-guess, so he just holds up the cotton pads.
“Let me see, chum.”
Dick tries his hardest not to wince as Bruce cleans his elbow scrape. Bruce applies the bandage with care, and then a kiss atop the plaster without thinking.
“It’s supposed to help it heal,” he mumbles self-consciously, unable to hide his surprised smile when Dick grabs him in a hug.
5. stolen
The ballroom isn’t exactly his element, nor hers. Selina’s grace never falters, of course, yet Bruce feels like he’s forgotten all of the steps of any dance he’s ever learned. But following her lead comes naturally, and soon he gets lost in the glittering lights reflected in her green eyes.
“What’s on your mind, kitten?” she whispers, her glossy lips next to his ear.
I want to know if I’ll ever be allowed to keep you forever.
But now isn’t the time to ask. Instead, he steals the briefest kiss as they twirl onward, suspended in this momentary dream together.
6. mistletoe
It’s just a bit of holiday fun, yet Bruce feels a dreaded sense of anticipation when he finds himself standing beneath the accursed plant.
Clark is laughing it off, his deep voice less of a comfort than usual as he scolds their friends for ruffling Bruce’s feathers.
The fact that Clark doesn’t take it seriously is what hurts most.
Not in this life, nor the next. Some things never come to pass.
So why not play this game? Bruce grabs Clark by the collar to learn for the first and only time the feeling of Clark’s lips on his own.
7. scars
Harvey was always a heartbreaker. Too bright, too smart, too good for their city to allow to live.
He’s still achingly handsome, but now Bruce only sees that charming smile on rare occasions. Two-Face doesn’t find many reasons to smile around Batman.
“I’m really happy that you look well, Harv,” Bruce says, stroking his thumb along Harvey’s hand.
“Side-effect of seeing you,” Harvey replies, like he doesn’t know he still makes Bruce’s pulse flutter.
Despite the guards’ immediate protests, Bruce can’t stop from leaning in to kiss the corner of that scarred mouth, wishing they could turn back the clock.
8. rain
Part of Bruce yearns so badly to stay. He holds a deep-rooted, genuine belief that Khoa is his other half. The only person who knows him. But Bruce’s desires don’t matter, not when Gotham is at stake.
The rain soaks through his clothes into his flesh as they shout their grievances, cold despite the Argentinian heat. One last argument for the road. The burst of pain in his jaw after Khoa punches him hurts less than the wound in his heart. It’s the reason why Bruce drags Khoa into one final, bruising kiss before they disavow each other for good.
9. apology
Jason should never be so still, so silent, so pale. He’s wearing a suit, fitted to his tiny frame, no complaints about stiff collars or itchy socks spouting from his smart mouth this time. His eyes are closed.
Bruce grips the side of the coffin, unable to stop the crumbling, the collapsing, the clawing void. His son’s eyes are closed, and they’ll never open again.
Jason is gone. Bruce wants to join him, but there’s still work to be done.
A kiss to the crown of his head.
A last promise, a plea, an apology, murmured against his soft hair.
+1. goodbye
“Wake up, Brucie,” Mother says, poking Bruce’s cheek when he continues feigning sleep.
“I don’t think I will,” he mutters, keeping the covers drawn to his chin.
“You’re terribly sleepy, are you? Too sleepy, I suppose, to come watch a movie tonight?”
“Oh, I’m miraculously awake.”
Mother laughs when Bruce springs straight up in bed, and plants a big kiss right on his forehead. He pretends to be annoyed, making a face at her until she leaves his room.
Bruce might have dropped the act sooner had he known his mother just kissed him good morning for the last time.