#and it's the most grungy disgusting pathetic versions of them

[lfthinkerwrites]

If I may make a request 🧐

Could you make an alternative version of your small lingerie fic where they hide from gordon until he leaves and eddie doesn't get taken in could be smut could just be bruce being a flustered mess

Here you are, you filthy bastards. Light smut and Bruce being a mess ahead.

"Riddle me this," Nashton purrs. "Is that a Batarang in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" Bruce stands still, not sure whether to punch him, push him, or...something else.

(In another world, Gordon arrives at the rooftop, Nashton is taken into custody, and Bruce locks himself into his room, Nirvana at full volume, trying to forget that any of this ever happened. In this world, Bruce is slightly swifter on the uptake.)

Bruce snapped his attention to the still-lit Batsignal. Gordon will be any minute. He can stop this, subdue Nashton (on his knees), get him out of that get-up and-no. No. This is a serial killer. He killed the mayor, Pete Savage, Gil Colson, countless people in the flood, Alfred almost, there is nothing Bruce could ever want from this man, would ever want from this man-

He heard the sound of a throat clearing and saw that Nashton had pulled a small bottle out of one cup of the bra and a packet of condoms out of the other. "I came prepared," he said brightly.

Bruce had to take a step back at how forward the man was. Then he glared, trying to take back control of the situation. "You really are delusional if you think that's going to happen."

Nashton just smirked. "Oh, if you had any intention of rejecting me, you would have by now." Nashton placed his items back into the bra, which Bruce did NOT watch him do, and traced his fingers against Bruce's chest. "You're letting me touch you," Nashton continued. "If you wanted to hit me, you would. But you won't. You're hesitating because you want this as much as I do. You just needed a little more time to accept it."

When was the last time someone had touched him? Selina? Selina's gone though, and Nashton is right here, and he's soft, and he's willing, he's desperate, and the dam broke. Bruce roughly grabbed both of Nashton's hands and dragged him towards the edge of the roof, towards the shadows, and pressed him up against a support beam of the building, both hands pinned above his head. He looked into Nashton's expectant, flushed face and hesitated. "What am I going to do with you?" he murmured.

Nashton let out a small moan, one that goes straight to Bruce's cock. Bruce looked down and saw that Nashton was already erect. "Oh," he laughed. "I think you know exactly what you're going to do to me."

Before he could think of just how bad an idea this was, Bruce surged forward, pressing his mouth hard against Nashton's. For someone who came to a rooftop dressed in lingerie, Nashton's a sloppy kisser, sloppy like the virgin he probably was. The thought of that makes Bruce harder and he dropped one hand to pull down Nashton's panties, which judging by the groan the other man let out, was greatly appreciated. Bruce moved his lips to Nashton's neck, biting hard at the same time he began to stroke the other man's cock. Nashton almost shrieked at the sensation and Bruce let go of his wrists to cover his mouth. What he wouldn't give for some of his duct tape right about now...and that shouldn't arouse Bruce as much as it does.

"Anybody up here?"

Bruce froze mid-stroke. Shit. Gordon. Shit shit shit shit. He heard the man's footsteps on the roof, around the signal, and internally cursed. He should have grabbed Nashton's coat and boots too.

"What the fuck?" he heard Gordon say and he knew he must have found the clothes. Bruce glared at Nashton, only to see that the man only looked irritated at being interrupted.

"Don't make a sound," Bruce hissed, clamping his hand even harder over Nashton's mouth. Nashton's eyes crinkled, and Bruce could tell he was smirking.

"If anyone's here, come on out!" Gordon shouted, his steps coming closer to their hiding spot. Bruce stood still, blocking Nashton from view. How chivalrous, he could just hear Alfred drawl, and oh God, he should not be thinking about Alfred when he's got a nearly naked man pressed against him. He can feel his heart beating in his chest and something else bucking into his upper thigh. It's Nashton, rubbing insistently against him as if he doesn't care that Gordon's less than six feet away and could stumble on them and...wait. Is that a turn-on for him?

Bruce heard a sigh and receding footsteps. "Some dumb kids must have gotten up here again," Gordon muttered. Bruce could see out of the corner of his eye, the lieutenant turning off the signal and retreating to the elevator.

As soon as Gordon's gone, Bruce releases Nashton, and the man lets out a sharp breath. "Well," Nashton said. "That was fun. Now where were we?"

Bruce just stared at him. "What in the fuck is the matter with you?"

Nashton giggled, then pointed downwards. "Same thing that's wrong with you." Bruce followed his gaze down and realized that he was still hard. Nashton giggled again, then pulled the condoms and lube from his bra again. "Well?"

Gordon's arrival should have been a sign that this was a bad idea. It should have been, but Bruce returned his teeth to Nashton's neck and once he remembered how to take off his pants, gave them both what they wanted.

When Nashton is returned to Arkham in a cheap t-shirt and jeans, six hours later, no one commented on the dark bruises on his neck, the fact that he couldn't quite walk straight, or that Batman couldn't meet Gordon's gaze. Or that Nashton's new 'friend' seemed to find the entire thing hilarious.

One thing remains universally consistent. Bruce returns home, turns Nirvana up at full volume, and tries to pretend that the whole thing didn't happen. When he's not contemplating breaking Nashton out again, and bringing duct tape.