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The itch in Bruce’s back had started as a low, quiet thrumming, almost imperceptible if not for its regular accompaniment with every single one of Bruce’s heats he’s endured since his presentation.
He fiddled with the gold-plated pen in his hands, turning somewhat diligent note-taking into a series of bat doodles along the margins of his page.
The distraction was ineffective, however, as the burning itch in his back had now worked its way up his shoulders and was encroaching onto his neck. He fought the urge to scratch, knowing it would be futile, and the fire would only intensify. The scent blocking patches he’d placed on himself that morning were beginning to prickle furiously, his scent glands begging to be set free.
Overall it had been a long, distressing day with every one of his nerves on edge and his patience reaching max critical. He was ready to go home.
His heat had arrived right on schedule. Unfortunately, it showed itself on the morning of a very busy day, with a long meeting tacked on at the end of it. Wayne Enterprise had a potential new client and it was a big one.
He supposed he could leave. Walk out and let his team deal with the rest of it. But that would definitely set the wrong impression, and besides, he’d feel bad for doing that to them.
Not that he hadn’t done it before.
For the right reasons, of course.
He sighed, not for the first time that day, and looked down at his watch.
It was half past six and he estimated they had about another hour or so to go before things would begin to wrap up. He’d wait it out, and then the moment he got home would crash into the nest he’d been preparing for the past week. He’d grab whoever was hanging around the manor that night and drag them with for some cuddling and scenting, both of which were bound to alleviate the itch that was crescendoing into a burning fire along the arch of his back.
The moment the meeting was over, Bruce politely excused himself and sped out of the conference room, his gait tight and stiff from bundled nerves. He made a beeline for his office, gathered his things, and was heading for the elevators not five minutes later.
He decided to drop by Tim’s office on his way out, which was just down the hall from his. He knocked lightly on the glass of the door, but Tim didn’t seem to hear him, didn’t even flinch. Bruce shrugged and walked. He approached Tim, who was seated at his large, glass desk, which was littered with papers, multiple digital devices, and what must have been 20 or so empty cups of coffee. Behind him, the sun was setting on the Gotham harbour, the colours lighting up the murky green waters.
“Tim, I’m heading home for the night, do you want a lift or will you be coming later?” Bruce inquired. Startled, Tim jerked upwards, finally realizing someone was speaking to him. The light of the monitors in front of him illuminated his pale visage, giving away the shadows that hung under his eyes.
“Oh, hi Bruce. Sorry, didn’t see you there,” Tim responded, rubbing his eyes. He shot Bruce a quick smile before ducking his head back down to continuing typing at whatever had his attention captured. He was quickly sucked back into his work, forgetting about Bruce.
Bruce cleared his throat. “So you’ll be staying late, I gather?” Tim didn’t look up this time, typing as he spoke.
“Uh-huh, tell Alfred not to bother with getting me anything for dinner. Might be here all night at this rate,” he muttered, and kept his attention focused on the monitor in front of him, the hands on his keyboard flying at light speed. Bruce thought his fingers might catch fire if he were to type any faster.
“OK, just remember to take a break and eat something, alright?” Bruce advised his workaholic, insomniac son, whom he loved dearly.
Tim lifted his mug up. “Yeah, I got coffee,” he said distractedly. Bruce sighed, shook his head, and gave him a chastising look.
“Coffee isn’t food Tim. Promise me you’ll grab dinner, OK? Or I’ll have to come back and drag you home myself.”
“Ok Bruce, I’ll do that.” Tim quickly looked up and flashed another smile at him before ducking his head back down.
“I’ll hold you to that,” Bruce said, smiling fondly and waved goodbye. He made his way down the building to the car park, where his yellow and black bugatti was waiting for him in its reserved spot. He climbed in, buckled up and set off, shifting in his seat as he went, noticing how uncomfortable and stiff the leather seats felt to him.
Finally at home, he freed himself of the tie from around his neck, and toed off his shoes. Then he clawed at the patches that covered both sides of his neck, peeling them off and dumping them in the nearest trash. Relieved, he unbuttoned his suit jacket and yanked it off, leaving him in just his slacks and dress shirt, the top of which he’d loosened. He let out a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, feeling ready to settle down for the evening.
He passed through the kitchen, greeting Alfred distractedly and pulled open the fridge and then the cupboards, looking for something. Alfred smirked, apparently amused with himself at Bruce’s behaviour. Bruce wasn’t actually hungry, it was only the restless feeling from the oncoming swell of his heat that kept him puttering around, looking for something to do.
“Master Bruce, don’t you worry yourself with that.” Alfred took him gently by the shoulders. “Head to your room and I will bring you some food and something to drink very soon.”
Instead of listening, Bruce turned and quickly latched onto Alfred, embracing him, shoving his nose into the gland at his neck, trying to scent him. A quick whine escaped him and Alfred sighed, patting Bruce gently on the back.
Bruce knew Alfred wasn’t one for cuddling and scenting, especially when with the growth of their pack, there were others Bruce could do that with. But at that point, Bruce was willing to cling to almost anyone, so long as it would alleviate the burning, desperate desire building up inside him, one that screamed for a familiar pack member to hold, comfort, and scent him back.
“Master Bruce, you will not be helping any by clinging to me as I make dinner. Please go and find one of the boys to settle in the nest with you.” Then he led Bruce to the kitchen doorway and kindly shoved him out.
Bruce decided to listen to Alfred by setting out in search of someone to sit in the nest with him, to help the intense itch that was creeping up into his neck. Not being mated, his heats merely led him to the desire of only cuddling and scenting with the other members of his pack. Without anyone there, his symptoms would gradually worsen until they became borderline unbearable. The itching and antiness that typically accompanied his heats would grow and his craving for safety would as well, as ridiculous as it was. Despite the fact that he was extremely capable of taking care of himself, (or so was his opinion) his hormones did not care, and went on as they pleased.
This was why unmated omegas tended to live as part of a pack, one that held at least one other member. Living alone and unmated as an omega was not recommended by health professionals. Omegas were warned that over time, health degradation was a very real and possible consequence. Or so Alfred told him, as he had always been sure to get an earful of it in his younger years, every time his heat rolled around. He was stubborn, and not keen on finding just any willing alpha (which there were lots of) to spend the duration of his heat with. In his twenties, they became so unbearable that he gave in at times, but only because otherwise it would have detracted from his ability to continue on in his nightly vigilante duties.
But when Dick came into his life, that changed.
Bruce felt a part of the dark, lonely, emptiness inside him being filled with the love and affection of his son. And now that his pack had grown so much, rarely did he feel the oppressive loneliness that had once almost crippled him.
Bruce was thinking of this when he set out in search of either Dick or Damian, both of whom he knew should be hanging around the manor somewhere.
Bruce found Dick in the main study, hands at the clock, about to open the entrance to the Batcave.
“Dick?” Bruce called to him from the doorway. “Where are you going, chum? It’s a little early for patrol. It’s not even 8 yet.”
“Oh hey, B.” Dick turned to Bruce and smiled. “Yeah it is, but I’m going to get a head start on my patrol for the night. Jason’s going to meet me up at the harbour.” He finished setting the hands and the clock moved aside to reveal the entrance to the cave. When Bruce’s face fell slightly, Dick didn’t notice.
“Alright well when do you think you’ll be back?” Bruce asked, fingers tapping at the doorway as he itched to grab Dick by the scruff and drag him into the nest that was just down the hall.
“It’ll be late. Once I’ve finished up with helping Jason I’ve got to head onto my usual patrol.” Dick frowned. “I thought I told you this already last night.”
“Ah, you’re right. I remember now.” Bruce rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck. “Sorry, it’s been a long day at work.”
“Ok well, get some rest before you go on patrol tonight. Later B!” Dick flashed him a quick smile and wave before disappearing down the steps to the cave. A moment too late for Dick to hear, a whine slipped from Bruce’s throat, calling after his son.
He supposed he’d have to go and find Damian to bring into the nest with him. Which was easier said than done, however. Damian had just recently presented as an alpha, only a few weeks ago. It was an interesting time for all of them, to deal with Damian as he adjusted to his secondary gender. He’d been flighty and wary of any physical contact, since then. He’d jumped so high and almost taken Dick’s eye out when his brother had tried to tug him into a hug. If that were Tim or Jason, the end result would probably have been a lot worse.
With mixed hopes, he set out for Damian’s room. Bruce found the door slightly ajar, so he knocked lightly and poked his head into the room.
“Damian?” He asked, spotting Damian by his closet, packing a black duffel bag.
Damian looked up and nodded to him. “Hello Father.” He continued packing.
“What’s the bag for, Damian?” Bruce stepped further into the room and nodded to the black duffle Damian had at his feet.
“I have a fencing class this evening,” he said, carefully tucking a pair of runners into the side of the bag.
Bruce stepped forward and leaned down to Damian so he could lightly swipe a wrist over the top of his pup’s head, scenting his hair. “So you’ll be gone for a while then,” Bruce stated, and noticed Damian go still under his wrist. But he didn’t show a reaction other than that.
“Ye-yes,” he stuttered, an odd reaction from Damian, “there is a match tonight, and I look forward to the face of defeat on Albrecht when I destroy him on the court.”
Bruce saw the look of dark glee on his youngest son’s face and sighed inwardly.
Should he be more worried about the health and safety of Damian’s opponents? Probably. But fencing had been good as both a physical outlet for Damian and a way to continue his training. Besides, he was sure Damian would refrain from actually killing anyone.
Still, he should probably inspect the bag Damian was packing for any hidden swords and knives he might have tucked in there. Or that he hadn’t secretly sharpened the tip of his épée.
Instead of doing that, he leaned forward to embrace Damian, who squirmed in his hold, and nuzzled him with his cheek. When Bruce shifted to look at him, he noticed he’d turned bright red.
“I see.” He pulled away from his son. “Try not to send anyone to hospital, okay?”
“I can make no promises on the basis of my opponent’s competency,” Damian muttered, hanging his head, and zipped up his bag. Bruce could tell Damian was embarrassed by the nuzzling and the loud and very noticeable scent of heat in the air.
Bruce chuckled and ruffled his hair. Damian huffed and stood, slinging the duffle over his shoulder and walked out, cheeks beet red as he went.
Well, Damian was out, and so were Tim and Dick, so that left him with…Jason.
It was a long shot but Bruce pulled out his phone anyway. He was getting a bit desperate, and perhaps he could convince Jason to come back with Dick after they had finished patrol. Bruce listened to the ring as he waited for Jason to pick up. A moment later, to Bruce’s immense surprise, the call connected.
“What?” Jason’s irritated growl greeted him. His voice was staticky and lower than usual from the helmet’s voice modulation. He faltered for a moment and wondered what on earth he could say that could get Jason to come and visit, and get him into the nest, no less. He had never asked this of Jason before and wondered how his testy son would react.
“Spit it out Old Man, I ain’t got all day,” Jason barked, his thin patience already stretched taut.
“Hey Jaylad,” Bruce cleared his throat and spoke up. There was another whine building up, begging to call out to his pup. He tried his best to hold it back, lest he scare Jason off. Damn his oversensitive and demanding heat hormones. “I was just wondering…” he trailed off.
“Seriously, what is it? I’ve got to meet up with Nightwing to cover some groundwork in five, so make it quick.” Jason wouldn’t wait much longer, and Bruce was surprised he hadn’t been hung up on already. Maybe Jason’s curiosity won over his lack of patience.
“Just wondering if there’d be any chance of you stopping by tonight?” he asked. And the line went quiet for a few seconds as he waited for Jason’s response.
“And why the hell would I do that?” Jason growled. Bruce winced slightly and something in his abdomen twitched. Cramps, Bruce realized.
“No…reason. Just wanted to see you.” His argument game was weak. He blamed the hormones.
“See me my ass. You probably want to lock me into babysitting that little demon spawn or some shit,” Jason spat. He continued, voice irritated, “Look Bruce, I’ve got shit to do tonight, so if that’s all you want then you’re outta luck. Get the Replacement to do it or something.”
“No, Jason, that’s not what I-” The call cut to dial tone as the line went dead.
And there went Jason.
So Tim, Dick, Damian, and Jason were all preoccupied for the night and there was no one else he’d want to call.
No big deal, he’d manage. He’d done so for many years before and he could do it again.
Despite him reasoning with himself, he was growing more anxious by the second. He let out a sharp keen, calling for pack to call back. His head was growing foggy and he swooned on the spot. He should probably go lie down, as Alfred said, but there was no one with him, and Bruce would have to spend the night all alone in his nest, without comfort, and without protection.
Protection? What did he need protection for? He was Batman for crying out loud!
An idea hit Bruce and he took off in the direction of the study and unlocked the cave entrance. With renewed energy he flew into the elevator and smacked the down button. As if possessed, he went through the motions of donning his uniform and starting up one of his Batmobiles, purposefully choosing one with extra seat room. He flipped through some settings on the dashboard and rolled out of the cave with his course set for Wayne Enterprise.
The omega in him would not be satisfied until every one of his pack members were home.
oOo
Tim wiped at his eyes and tried to erase the blurriness that seemed to be overtaking them. If he was being honest, he knew the only thing that would have truly helped him at that point was sleep, but he wasn’t desperate enough to give in yet. Instead, he reached for one of the many coffee cups that littered his desk and lifted it to his mouth to take a sip. He frowned when he realized it was empty.
Tim groaned and pushed himself up to a stand. He’d have to grab another cup or risk falling asleep at his desk. Yesterday’s t-shirt and keyboard impressions on his face were not something he needed to wake up with again.
A quick look at his phone told him it was almost 9 o’clock. He’d probably be stuck there for a few more hours, finishing tying up loose ends for the weekend.
Tim made his way over to the coffee bar on the side of his office and powered on the keurig. He opened a drawer and leaned in to grab a coffee pod only to come up short. Tim swiped a hand over his face and made a noise of frustration. He’d have to go down the hall to the lunchroom and make his coffee there. The coffee was just as good as his, if not better, but further out of reach.
Tim took that as a sign that he needed to stop working so late, then promptly decided to ignore it.
In the lunchroom, Tim set about turning on the coffee pot and filling the filter with grounds. He was about to press the start button when hands grabbed him from behind, one across his chest and the other over his mouth, preventing him from crying out.
“Mfmph?!” Was all he managed. He looked up and his brow creased even further in confusion. Staring back down at him was Batman. Was this real or was he actually so tired that he had begun to imagine things?
The hand lowered from his mouth and Tim spoke up. “Bru-Batman, what the hell are you doing?” he asked, bewildered.
Instead of answering, Batman turned Tim around, grabbed him by the legs and tossed him over his shoulder into a fireman’s carry.
“Home,” was all he said, then swept down the hallway, taking Tim with him.
“Hey! Let me go!” Tim hissed at Bruce, careful to keep his voice low and avoid being discovered by any passing security guards. Tim resigned himself to be tossed around like a ragdoll by Batman and resisted his struggles. And that was when he caught the scent of something sweet, like rose tea and sun-warmed blackberries…
“Oh hell no.” Even with his weak beta nose, Tim could tell what that scent meant. Bruce was going into heat. Or rather, it seemed more like he was in the throes of it already, his head apparently cloudy enough to do something as stupid as to kidnap Tim at Wayne Enterprise as Batman.
“Where are you taking me-eep!” Tim let out an embarrassingly high shriek as he felt the windy, outdoor air brush his face. They were at the top of the Wayne Enterprise, leaning out an open window.
Batman set him down on a very, very high and open ledge and said, “grab on.” Tim obeyed without arguing and wrapped his arms around Bruce. They set off, careening down the side of the building and onto a nextdoor rooftop. Bruce reset the line and they went down again, landing in a (thankfully) empty alleyway where Tim saw the Batmobile waiting in the shadows. He didn’t let go of Tim until he had tucked him into the front seat and buckled him in.
“Stay.” Bruce ordered, and he did just that. Tim sighed and smacked his head on the headrest behind him. How was this his life now?
oOo
Perched on the roof of one of Gotham’s many harbourfront warehouses, Dick watched through his enhanced domino lenses as the Penguin’s latest shipment arrived, concealed as a container of household goods, disguising its hidden contents of firearms and ammunition. He tapped his earpiece on to the open line he had with Red Hood.
“I’ve got confirmation on the tracker you placed, the signal is clear and strong. Seems like everything is good to go.” He informed Hood.
“Sounds good. I’ll head out as soon as these goons finish up.” Hood responded.
“I’ll leave when you do then.” Nightwing answered and settled in to watch the mafia thugs do the rest of their job and to step in and cover Hood if necessary. He watched the men below him gather around a pack of cigarettes, seemingly intent on having a light before they finished up for the night. While he watched, Hood’s low voice sounded in his ear.
“Dick,” he started, sounding almost hesitant, if Dick had heard right. “Can I ask you something?” Hood finished.
“Yeah of course, what’s up?” He replied.
“When you saw Bruce today, did he seem a little…off to you?”
His question caught Dick by surprise. Jason almost never asked after Bruce. Shrugging, he thought about the question for a moment. He had seen Bruce briefly before he set out for the night, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary to him. He said just that. “Did he call you or something?” he added.
“Yeah he did. He sounded all shifty and asked me to drop by the cave with you after we were done tonight. Any idea what that’s about?”
Dick put his memory to work trying to think of any reason at all that would make sense for Bruce to ask Jason to stop by. Their relationship was getting better, but it certainly wasn’t perfect. They had their spats more often than not and were on fairly rough speaking terms. Although Jason's violence had toned down a great deal he still didn’t like to linger around any of them for longer than necessary. So why would Bruce…
The answer hit him from behind as a wave of roses and blackberries assaulted his senses.
“Bruce?” Dick turned to find Batman looming over him.
“Did you say Bruce? Is he there?” Hood tried to ask, but Dick ignored him by tapping his earpiece twice and disconnecting the call. He instead put his attention to the masked vigilante in front of him.
“B, what are you doing here? It’s a little early for your patrol, don't you think? And why aren’t you wearing your blockers? Your scent gives you away almost immediately.” He assaulted the other with a barrage of questions.
Speaking of scents…when Dick inhaled again, he finally realized what was going on. He smacked himself in the forehead and stood up.
“Are you crazy? You can’t be out here like this!” He grabbed Bruce by the shoulders and shook him slightly.
Batman only frowned and said, “pup,” before grabbing onto Dick and tugging him forward. Great, his brain’s fogged up enough that he’s gone monosyllabic. Dick, being an expert in translating Bruce’s speech habits, or lack thereof, understood exactly what Bruce was trying to communicate. He especially got the hint when Batman tried to freaking nuzzle him through his cowl.
“I know, I know, I forgot I’m sorry.” He patted Batman placatingly on the back. “I got sidetracked with this mission I was helping Hood with and-” Dick yelped as Batman reached down and tossed him over his shoulder.
“Hey! I’m not done here yet!”
“Home,” Bruce said, and before Dick could blink they had flown down the side of the warehouse and landed firmly onto the pavement. The Batmobile was waiting for them there. Batman opened the back door and tossed him in.
“B wait! I still have to cover for Hood!” But Batman shut the car door shut behind him and engaged the security, locking Dick in.
“Dick?” Turning his head towards the sound of his name, Dick found Tim facing him from the front passenger seat.
“Tim? What’s going on?”
Tim shook his head.
“I think Bruce’s gone a bit heat crazy and is rounding all of us up,” he explained. “Who knows what brought that on. I’ve never seen him act like this before…”
“I didn’t notice it before I went out for the night, so my guess is Damian wasn’t home either, or else he’d be back at home with him.” Dick looked Tim over, and noticed he was dressed in civilian attire, wearing a rumpled, white dress shirt and a loosened blue tie. “Were you at work?”
Tim sighed. “Yeah, I was finishing up for the week. He didn’t even let me grab my laptop…” A forlorn look came over Tim’s eyes. “He could have just called me! Instead he dropped in as Batman and kidnapped me from the 80th floor.”
“Did anyone see you guys?” Dick asked. It could spell trouble if a security guard or janitor happened to see Batman kidnapping Tim Drake-Wayne from the Wayne Enterprise building.
“No, no one saw.” Tim reassured him. “I’ll have to go back and delete the security footage though, just to be sure.”
Dick realized something else.
“Wait a minute, does this mean he’s going after Jason too?” Dick mused. A grin tugged at his mouth.
“Oh shit, that can’t be good.” Tim paled.
“You know, I was going to radio him back and warn him to get the hell away before Bruce could find him. But now…I think I’ll wait and see how things play out.”
oOo
“Nightwing, do you copy? I repeat, Nightwing, do you copy?” The line remained silent and Jason still had no response from Nightwing. “Damnit, what the hell happened to him?” he cursed.
What the fuck was going on?
He had heard Nightwing call out Bruce’s name before hanging up, so he suspected the Old Man might be involved somehow. Or perhaps Dick was just taking a call from him. But that wouldn’t explain why the line was still dead with no explanation from the other vigilante. He knew Dick could take care of himself, sure, but that didn’t stop Jason from worrying over the other omega. But while sometimes it was hard for him to get a grip on his alpha impulses, his protective nature being one of them, he remained respectful of Nightwing's independence.
Jason looked to where he last saw Dick hiding and saw nothing. He had been focused on the activity below him and before he knew it, the other man had disappeared. Jason decided he’d waited long enough and stood up to set off in search of Dick. He couldn’t just leave without checking whether or not he was actually in danger, annoying older brother or not.
He hooked his grappling gun onto the corner of the roof and skillfully flew down the side of the warehouse. Landing on the pavement, he dashed to the corner of the building and peered around the edge. With the coast clear, he slipped across the opening between the warehouse and the shipping containers stacked nearby. He ran down the length of the containers before slipping around another corner. In the dark, he smacked hard into something solid and fell backwards.
Not something. Someone.
“What the fu-” Jason looked up from the ground and found Batman staring back down at him. “Bru-Batman? What the fuck are you doing here?” His voice had turned slightly shrill, but the voice modulation kept it low. Batman didn’t respond. Jason picked himself off the ground and stuck a finger at Bruce’s chestplate.
“I thought I told you to stay out of my cases!” He hissed at Bruce, his voice involuntarily growing louder.. Bruce caught the hand he had been holding out and rubbed his wrist over Jason’s. Then he pulled Jason into a tight embrace. “Holy shit B, are you-” Jason stumbled for words. Embarrassed by the hug, he pushed Bruce away with both hands. “Are you in heat? You can’t be out here!” Jason shouted. His yelling must have been loud enough for the nearby thugs to hear, because there was shouting from behind them.
“Who’s there? Fucking show yourself!” They had definitely heard them, him, and were making their way over.
“Great, that’s just what we need, You, in fucking heat and a whole gang of Penguin’s thugs after us.” He pulled out one of his guns, loaded with rubber bullets, and cocked it. “You stay here and I’ll deal with them. I mean it, don't. Move.” Jason ordered and emphasized with a final poke to Bruce's chest.
Batman merely stared at him, still silent. Jason would bet anything that were Bruce’s eyes visible, he would see that a fiery stubbornness had set them ablaze. Stubborn omegas in heat were not to be trifled with. Jason had spent enough time around Bruce and Dick to know that.
Bruce ignored him in favour of typing something on the screen on his gauntlet. Jason groaned in frustration and pulled out a second gun. He turned, ready to face the group of low level mafia thugs they had set on themselves. “Time for these assholes to see what’s up.”
But before he could round the corner, Batman seized him by the scruff of his jacket and yanked him back. Appearing from behind a stack of shipping containers, the Batmobile swerved into view, tires squealing and burning rubber. It glided to a stop in front of them. Batman opened a side door, stuffed Jason inside and closed the door after him. The locks engaged before Jason could go for the door handle.
“Hey! I was dealing with that just fine, thank you very much!” Jason yelled to the car door. He turned and found both Nightwing and the Replacement staring back at him.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, what the hell is this?"
“Sorry I disappeared on you.” Dick apologized with a stupid smile on his face. He didn’t sound sorry at all, he actually seemed quite pleased with himself.
“Bruce is in heat," Tim informed them from the front seat.
The driver’s door opened and Bruce wordlessly slid into his seat and took over the controls.
“Yeah, no shit. I got that when he tried to scent me through his gauntlet. It’s like he’s gone completely heat-mad.” Dick snickered at him and Jason kicked him in the thigh.
“What’re you laughing at, Dickwing?”
oOo
Back at the manor, Alfred had finished cleaning up after dinner and prepared a tray to take to Bruce, who, he’d hoped, was already settled into the pack nest by then. But when he opened the door to find the room empty, he didn’t know if he should really be surprised or not.
While Alfred was worried for the wellbeing of Bruce, he knew the man was for the most part capable of taking care of himself. However, there was the odd time or two when Bruce’s heat had driven him to do some odd things, like run off in the middle of the night in search of who knows what. That thought in mind, Alfred set out to find a phone. But before he could locate one, the phone rang.
“Hey Alfie it’s Dick!” Dick greeted him. Alfred could hear the rumble of a car in the background, and picked up on some chatter as well.
“Master Dick, I was just about to call.”
“No need to worry about Bruce Alfred, it seems like he’ll be bringing us home soon.” Dick explained.
“And who would us be, Master Dick?” Alfred asked.
“Uh, well, me, Tim, and Jason, and I think we’re headed to pick up Damian next, so don’t worry about picking him up from fencing.” Dick explained.
“Ah, that's good to know, I was just on my way to pick him up. Very well, I shall prepare some food for your arrival.”
“Thanks Alfie, see you soon!” Dick ended the call.
Alfred hung the phone up, and laughed softly to himself. This wasn’t the first time Bruce had gone and done something wild like this while under the influence of heat, and it seemed like it wouldn’t be the last.
oOo
Damian leisurely made his way down the front steps of the fencing hall and made his way to the roadside where he was to be picked up and brought home. He was still revelling in his victory over Albrecht, the imbecile who’d dared to look down on him by mocking him for his shorter stature. It was true, he was a tad short for his age, but he was sure he would grow into his full height soon enough.
Besides, it’s not like his height made any difference for Damian when it came to taking on a fencing opponent. Damian’s face darkened into a wicked and gleeful grin. When Albrecht tried to corner him on Monday at school to save face, Damian would show him what else he was capable of. He’d see about sneaking in a knife or two in his socks.
On the sidewalk, Damian waited patiently for the sight of the familiar Rolls Royce Pennyworth usually drove to pick him up. There were other students waiting on the sidewalk with him, but one by one, they disappeared with their parents or chauffeurs. Damian was the last one left. He crossed his arms and huffed, frustrated at how long he had been forced to wait outside in the chill. It wasn’t the cold that bothered him, it was how unlike Pennyworth it was to be this late.
Damian kept his eye on the road, waiting for his ride to appear. There was a faint roar in the distance Damian thought he recognized. Sure enough, the Batmobile was swinging around the corner and sliding up in front of him. The side door popped open and a hand reached out to grab him by the shirt and yank him inside, tossing him onto someone’s lap.
“What is going on?” he cried. “Unhand me!” he yelled at whoever it was that was trying to manhandle him into the middle seat.
“Quiet twerp.” It was Todd, in his Red Hood uniform, sans the helmet, domino mask still in place. He buckled Damian in and then they were off like a shot.
“Hey Damian,” said Dick, dressed as Nightwing. He ruffled his hair affectionately and Damian pushed his hand away. “Sorry it took so long to come get you, Bruce had to round us all up first.”
Damian looked to the front and sure enough his Father was the one in the driver’s seat. “Why is Father driving? He shouldn’t be here in his condition.”
“Wait, you mean you knew?” Drake asked him, twisting around from the front with a stupid look on his face.
“Of course I knew, how could you imbeciles not?” Damian rolled his eyes. Sometimes his brothers could be such idiots.
oOo
Once safely back in the cave, the Batmobile was parked and the four boys tumbled out. Dick stripped down from his Nightwing uniform to his undershirt and shorts. He peeled off his scent blockers and tossed them in the trash before walking to the lockers and finding a pair of sweats for himself, and a pair for Bruce. He walked back to find that Bruce had sucked Jason into another embrace. Dick laughed at the sight and helped to pull Bruce off of Jason. He was half-successful because when Jason tried to sneak away, Bruce grabbed him by his jacket and pulled him back.
“Nice try Jay, but you’re here so you may as well stay,” said Dick and Jason grumbled but relented. “Besides, I think Alfred’s making hot chocolate, which I know is your favourite.”
Dick helped Bruce out of his cowl and suit and then worked on corralling everyone to the elevator.
“At least let me grab a laptop,” said Tim, who snagged one of many laptops from his desk before walking back over to them.
In the elevator, Dick took the brunt of Bruce’s weight as the older man whined and shoved his nose into Dick’s hair, trying to scented him with his neck. Dick’s thick, omega scent poured out of him as an automatic response and Bruce released a pleased purr back.
“A little help here?” asked Dick.
“Fine,” said Jason, rolling his eyes. He grabbed one of Bruce’s arms and slung it over his shoulder to help move him out of the elevator and down the hall. They had to practically carry him there, and when they reached the main bedroom, they dropped him onto the carefully constructed nest of fluffy pillows and soft blankets.
Bruce then immediately grabbed onto Jason who groaned loudly but succumbed himself to his apparent fate. “I’m gonna have this smell on me for weeks” he grumbled, but was ignored by Bruce as he swiped a wrist over Jason’s hair and down to his neck. Jason surrendered his wrist to Bruce who took it, and rubbed his own over Jason’s, mixing their scents.
Bruce moved to Tim next, and reestablished the pack bond they shared by coating him with his scent. He targeted Damian next, who squirmed in his hold. Bruce released a calming purr and poured out his scent on Damian. The pup immediately relaxed in his hold. He nuzzled Damian and made sure to scent him thoroughly like he had the others.
Finally satisfied, Bruce huffed and curled up with Tim and Damian under both his arms.
Alfred arrived later with food and drinks, and they spent the rest of their evening eating, curled up together, with a happy and satisfied Bruce, who was already fast asleep.
oOo
Bruce awoke from a shift in weight on the mattress. It must have been Dick, returning from his round of patrol. Bruce had slept off the initial burst of heat he’d been experiencing, and felt much more relaxed than before. He tried thinking back to the past few hours and struggled to remember what had happened. That wasn’t too unusual for him, since his heats tended to make him foggy and made it hard to think clearly.
“Looks like he got what he wanted.” Bruce heard Dick say from behind him.
“That’s great for him, but it’s not like I didn’t have other shit to do tonight.” grouched Jason, who he was surprised hadn’t left yet.
“Oh c’mon, when was the last time we were together for someone’s heat like this?” Argued Dick. “Probably a while.”
“I’m with Jason, I still have work to do,” said Tim, who was still working on his laptop. Bruce would have to do something about that.
Reset all his passwords temporarily? Set up a parental lock-out feature on all of his accounts? Somehow connect his work accounts to track his sleep activity and only allow him access when he’s received an adequate amount?
He’d keep working on it.
“Not anymore you don’t.” Dick grinned, shark-like, and reached for Tim’s ankle. Tim swiftly dodged him and scrambled out of the way. Dick pouted but quickly shifted targets. “Fine then, I’ll have Damian.”
Dick whirled around and onto Damian, who was just a hair short of getting away, and got sucked back by the steel grip of his older brother and forced into a hug. Damian’s face was pure malice, however, he did not resist, the contentment in his scent betraying his surly exterior.
Bruce smiled and sat up, rubbing at his face. He yawned and stretched wide, his blanket slipping down him as he did so. Four pairs of eyes watched him as he did so.
“Hey guys, was I out long?” Bruce asked innocently, voice thick with sleep. He ran a hair through his hair.
“You could say that,” said Dick. “Do you not remember?” he asked.
“Remember what?” He blinked, owlishly. Someone snickered.
“He’s never gonna live this down,” Jason said, and turned to Bruce. “You were out for like, three fucking hours with some crazy heat-fog, rounding us all up!”
“Yeah, and you kidnapped me from Wayne Enterprise,” added Tim, “I had to go back and delete the security footage. What happened to you?”
Suddenly, Bruce began to recall the events of the past few hours. How he’d kidnapped Tim from work, and grabbed Nightwing and Red Hood from the docks. He also vaguely remembered picking up Damian from the side of the street. Jason was right, some crazy heat-symptoms had overtaken him with the desire to retrieve his pack, so he’d gone out and done just that. But however crazy he’d been acting, he couldn’t find it in him to regret any of what he’d done.
“Well, it wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last.” Bruce said casually, and tossed himself over Jason again to work on re-scenting him. He wasn’t sure of the next time he would have the opportunity, so he was not going to let go easily.
For the first time ever his pups were all together in the same nest with him. The omega in him was extremely pleased with its work, and so was Bruce.
oOo
The End~