theknightshift | open post (nsfw)

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CODE BY TESSISAMESS

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The hum brought forth at Bruce's questions coincided with the curl of Blake's lips into something all too knowing. He practically beamed at the attention afforded to him. This felt expensive for reasons well outside of money, and he knew occupying this man's mind was worth every effort; what Blake would give, Bruce would certainly return in-kind.

Nevertheless, denying that he was robbed of breath as easily as answers when Bruce went fondling around would be pointless. His little gasp was impossible to hide and he was forced to bite it back behind his bottom lip where it turned into more determination. He redoubled his efforts, focused on how tight he imagined Bruce would be, and wondering whether he'd even need more of a reminder than what Blake was about to do to him.

"Thinkin' 'bout you thinkin' 'bout me does have a, ah— a real fuckin' appeal," he noted with little shame. It stirred within him an even deeper desire to see Bruce far separated from a moment — any moment — by memories generated specifically towards making him feel good. They might never share domestic bliss, or the camaraderie of a proper working relationship, but near as Blake could figure — had ever figured — a functioning sexual arrangement filled a lot of holes. Pun intended.

As if to help prove his point, he more fervently curled a finger towards the other man's prostate, making demands of Bruce's body while dipping down to put his mouth to good use before it could turn predictably filthy.

In tandem, he mouthed greedily at the other man's sack, sparing some occasional suction that helped lift it out of the way for the careful introduction of a second finger. He doubted Bruce would allow for an excruciatingly long tease, but that suited him because he already felt fit to burst all on his own.

Breathing hotly over the spit-slathered canvas, he hummed, "You tell me when you're ready to turn, 'cause otherwise..." Not that he minds. Rather, he probably wouldn't stop, at least not until he'd eked out every orgasm he could from Bruce, so eager with his mouth and hands he barely spared the time for the suggestion before he was lapping a long line from scrotum to tip. Sucking the head, he struggled to artfully swallow around Bruce, the gulping noise immediately followed with a groan he'd failed to suppress. There was something so goddamn sexy about driving someone to that peak — something Blake craved for the satisfaction of it as much for his own derived pleasure.

For a minute, Bruce forgot how to breathe. It's just a moment and would soon be forgotten in favor of savoring the pleasure of Blake opening him up. But when he's caught in it, it felt like it lasted forever and if he died like this well, there were worst ways to go. It happened the second he felt Blake's finger slide into him, pinning that burst of air to his lungs. Until it burned and Bruce exhaled in a long, slow drag.

It was a feeling he wasn't used to, but it wasn't a bad one. Just new and one more thing he'd learn how to navigate. At least it was with someone who Bruce could almost trust. Enough not to use this vulnerable moment against him anyway.

It helped him to relax, the expert way Blake used his mouth and tongue and how it felt like he was unraveling all of the perfect control. Like he knew all of the right ways to get Bruce to open up and allow himself a chance to feel something other than that all consuming obsession with the Mission. Logically, he knew Blake had no way of knowing the impact he was truly having right then. But lust was a helluva drug.

As greedy as Blake is, Bruce was too. Eager to see his tip disappear into the warm wetness of Blake's mouth. It's perfect. It's too perfect and if Bruce had been anyone else – untrained, undisciplined – he would have came right then and there. But he could pace himself, will that orgasm down for just a little while longer. It doesn't stop that low, rumble of a groan. Born somewhere deep. Almost Batman, but not quite.

He offered Blake another shameless smile, hips rocking against his fingers. “Are you going to fuck me or tease me to death?”

The question pulled the essence of a chuckle from Blake, but it far contrasted the goosebumps raised across his body from Bruce's low growl. For Blake, that enticed reaction was all he needed to know he was making an impression. Despite being orphaned at a young age, he still somehow retained the bratty throughline that craved to be the positive pinpoint at the center of someone's attention. Together with Bruce, it didn't feel quite so blinding a spotlight — more a warmth that spread across his skin, one that reminded him of sitting close to the heater vent on a cold winter day.

"Honestly hadn't decided," he sighed, as if he held a hand of cards he didn't feel much like folding. But he relented nonetheless, and carefully extracted himself to steal a brief nipping kiss before patting Bruce's thigh. Post up.

Meanwhile, he busied himself with the practicalities, rolling on the condom when he finally shifted to where their reflection would be most visible. "C'mere before I make a joke 'bout a 'stay of ejaculation'."

For someone with so much on his plate, Bruce could be a man of singular focus, sometimes to the detriment of the other parts of his life. It was no easy task getting him to shift away from his work because it could be so all consuming. It would have to be something seismic.

Tonight, Batman is almost a far away thing. Not gone, never gone. Not even truly set aside. Just. Paused, while Bruce's gaze stayed fixed on the man rolling a condom on and shifting his body to get the best angle in the mirror.

Bruce went when beckoned, crawling toward Blake and reaching for him when he got to him so that he could pull the other man into a heated kiss. He could taste himself on Blake's tongue and it made him shudder a little.

“Go slow.” Not because Bruce needed him to. “I want to feel every inch of you.”

Edited 2025-07-02 03:40 (UTC)

Maybe he was smart about it, or possibly just clever-handed — but certainly experienced enough — so he'd spared one hand for the sake of semi-cleanliness and his own eager inhibitions. Anticipating the need to place his grasp on Bruce, he slid his fingers around the back of the other man's head and met him wholeheartedly and mouth-to-mouth.

The puff of Bruce's heated words across his face set Blake to rumble with greedy desire; as much as Bruce wanted to feel him, he wanted to feel Bruce — wanted that slick, encapsulating warmth that traveled his body. Wanted to feel it everywhere: cock, balls, guts, brain, and maybe even a few untouched depths.

"Yeah, a'right, I've got you," Blake muttered, nipping at Bruce's lips and peppering wet dabs where his tongue wandered. Wrapped around the slick condom, his other hand left off pumping in favor of a firm guiding grip at the base of his dick, taken then on parade to avoid Bruce distracting him from their purpose.

While the mirror would eventually come into play for him, his own attention was drawn downward at the hedonistic visage. With eyes dark and wide, mouth either agape or gnawing itself eagerly, Blake pressed the head teasingly, taking double the occasion to swipe a lubed thumb over Bruce's entrance and draw out the moment. He rocked that pressure slowly into play, little breaths held and lost with every bit he advanced. Past the head, he wouldn't be pulling back out, but up to that point he was enjoying the control.

Slow he could do. Slow was a treat, in fact, which Blake wouldn't take for granted.

He moaned Bruce's name, and followed with a foul-mouthed, "Fuck, Jesus, fuck—" because the further south all his blood traveled, the fewer words found their way north in return.

If asked, Bruce would say it's a little of both. Smart enough to recognize the necessity. Clever handed enough to make it work. But if he were asked, Bruce would also say it didn't really matter at this point. A lot of rational thought, a lot of his good sense and reason had been replaced with desire, pure and unadulterated. It's not something he let himself feel often – to0 easy to get lost in and it was a terrible clash against that constant need for vigilance. He could never afford to be lost in anything. But part of him wanted to forget. Wanted for just this precious moment a chance to just let himself feel and feel good too. So he did, when their mouths met again and he felt that flood of warmth in his blood and bones.

I got you settled over him like a blanket, warm and cozy and he felt another finger loosen it's grip on the cord. He could let go because he trusted Blake enough not to demand that control back. He trusted himself enough to think he could have both – vigilance and this heady, intoxicating pleasure.

He was ready. As ready as he could be when that first scant inch pressed into him. Instinct wanted him to seize up, but Bruce forced his body to relax, willed the tension out of those muscles so that Blake could sink deeper. His fingers flexed and he inhaled a quiet breath that kept him grounded, so he could stay here in the moment. When he said he wanted to feel every inch, he meant it and it wouldn't do to lose himself so soon. He wanted to stay right here. Right here so he could be aware enough to know when Blake bottomed out and so he could see the look on his face when he did.

He didn't moan. Not yet. But his chest heaved, a quiet sound of approval. “I'm right here,” he says, even though it doesn't feel like he has the breath to say it. Bruce reached for Blake, fingers ghosting over his cheek and down his neck. “Stay with me.”

Part of the reason Blake even entertained the idea of getting close to someone like Bruce had a lot to do with the give and take exhibited in moments like these. Bruce was right to tug gently, to twist the reel and bring Blake back to the moment. In doing its job, there was a marked renewal in both Blake's grip, as well as his approach.

"Good Christ, yeah," he sighed, easing more into the slow press that caused his prick to sing. Tight, but not insurmountable, and for a second he almost forgot whose ass was swallowing him like a parched mouth. "Could really, really see losin' myself, drawin' this out..."

Blake's voice crackled amidst his confession and he crawled his fingers up along Bruce's spine to tighten in his thick, dark hair. The other hand, gripped tight on the man's hip, helped guide as he wriggled thoroughly while buried as deep as he could go.

"But," he teased quietly while he tugged firmly on Bruce's hair and fucked him shallowly, "'m too greedy for seein' your face when you finally feel me come." He could sense that with most, the tension he was creating would be a lot. Then again, the body of this massively toned man had remained deceptive even as presented. For all Blake knew, he could be twisting himself into a pretzel in his spare time, all in the name of fun. And fun this was.

"Tell me what you want, babe," he growled low, keeping that pace and depth achingly steady and not nearly enough. "Tell me how you need it and I'll fuck you just right..."

It would have been easy to lie and say Bruce had done this for appearances alone. Throwing copious amounts of money at charity events would always look good when his name was on the checks. And he'd become somewhat adept at setting emotion aside for the greater good. But it would be just that – a lie. A clever one that he has gotten better at telling the more he did it. But a lie all the same. Because the truth was, he liked Blake. And not in that shallow, vapid way he was expected to in his social circle. It was a genuine kind of caring that left him feeling vulnerable and exposed like a nerve ending. It made what they're doing easy and difficult all at once. Because Bruce wanted nothing more than to feel that closeness, but it also felt like it might overwhelm him if he let it and he wanted to push it away. It's a paradox that would tear him in two if he wasn't careful.

Those fingers in his hair dragged him back, that dull pain tugging his scalp a heady mixture of pleasure and pain. Just enough that he doesn't lose himself. Just enough that he stayed here with Blake. Exactly where he wanted to be. And it was dangerous here.

He took a few breaths, one after each shallow thrust and God it doesn't feel like it's enough. Or maybe it's too much and he can't tell the difference. Either way, he wanted more. Fingers curled into the sheets under him, fit to tear them apart if he wasn't careful.

“Harder.”

The voice he answered with doesn't sound like Bruce. He's pulled it from a deep, coarse place, where the air is a little thinner and he has to work to make sure he has enough. Bruce reached a hand up to trace along Blake's neck, like he's checking his pulse so he could feel it racing against his massive palm.

"Show me. Let me feel it."

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