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Language:
English
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Published:
2016-11-26
Words:
446
Chapters:
1/1
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3
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549
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I Like Things...

Summary:

Bruce has seemed…off, since you admitted to him you were asexual.

Notes:

Anonymous asked:
Who do you think would feel put off or a little insecure about asexual reader (they can be male or female I don't particularly mind cause I think it could be applied to any gender!) not really being into the intercourse (whether it be penetrative or non-penetrative) only to become overwhelmingly flustered or happy when in said sexual reader starts spouting things they like about them such as their face, voice, heartbeat in order to make it a enjoyable compromise between them?

I ended up writing headcanons for each of the batfamily (which you can read here) but I only wrote a ficlet for Bruce, based on my own headcanon here:

So Bruce has trouble communicating how he feels. He uses sex to show how he feels, at the same time he shows you every part of himself, all his scars and bruises and broken bones, he’s completely vulnerable to you. But that doesn’t work for you?? Bruce can’t just say ‘I love you’, every possible line he could use just sounds like Brucie™. He can’t fall back on that persona, not if he cares about you, but he doesn’t have any real experience in a real relationship, he just doesn’t have the background. And then when you start with the compliments and the flirting he’s genuinely flustered because people never compliment the real Bruce, it’s only ever Brucie who gets compliments like that, and Batman only get compliments on his detective skills or his ability to dodge a punch.

Work Text:

Bruce has seemed…off, since you admitted to him you were asexual. 
You honestly hadn’t thought he’d be surprised. It’s not like you hid it. It’s not like you even knew how to hide it. It was a part of you, it always had been a part of you. And he was supposed to be a detective right? The greatest in the world? So didn’t he notice when your eyes didn’t dilate enough, or your breath didn’t quicken like it was supposed to, or whatever? Sure, you were head over heels for him so maybe your lovestruckness came off as lust? 
Anyway, he seemed distant. And it wasn’t because he was off-put, you didn’t think… he just seemed confused. As if you had given him some complex problem in a cryptic code written in a language that was not from Earth about a subject that didn’t even exist in our small section of the universe. He seemed…dazed. 
You reach over to tuck a piece of his hair behind his ear as he sits next to you on the couch as the tv plays something unimportant. 
He gives you a smile, calm, patient, tv-ready. Fake. 
You raise an eyebrow and he gives you an apologetic look. 
“Hi,” you say to start the conversation. 
“Hello,” he replies, his voice a deep timbre of amusement. 
You look at him for a second before deciding to make a move. 
You stand up and drop yourself into his lap. He looks up at you in surprise, his hands coming, probably instinctively, to your waist. 
“Hello,” he says again, and you smile and nuzzle his neck. 
“Hi.” 
He shifts uncomfortably under you. “You don’t have to-” 
“I want to,” you cut him off, a quick bite at the pale flesh under you. “Just because I’m not into the whole sex thing like 90% of the population doesn’t mean I don’t do things.” 
“What things,” he asks, curious despite himself. 
“Well,” you try, dropping your head against his chest. “I like kissing.”
“Mmm?” 
“And this,” you press a hand over his heart. “I like listening to your heartbeat.” 
And Bruce, honest-to-god, blushed at you. 
Your mouth dropped open at him as he tried to formulate a reply. 
“I-” he began. “Okay.” 
You grin and lean in, pressing kisses to the blooming patches of red on his cheeks. “And I love this,” you admit cheekily. 
“My cheeks?” 
“You’re blushing.”
Bruce straightens imperceptibly. “I’m not,” he protests. 
You snort. “You’re adorable.” 
The red in his cheeks deepen. “I’m a billionaire playboy,” he reminds you. “I’ve also taken on the worst scum this city has to offer. I am not-”
“Adorable,” you reiterate. “Absolutely adorable.”