Sessions One Through Ad Nauseam

Disclaimor/Notes: Right, nobody owns nothing, right? The chapter title comes from the delectable Nine Inch Nails' song of the same name. I don't own them either.

Session Four: Closer

Crane tried to rip his arm out of Bruce’s tight fingers, but it was like trying to escape handcuffs. And Crane was an old hat at that. Finally he gave up and allowed the larger man to drag him into the middle of an obnoxiously opulent master bedroom. It was only then that Bruce let him go, wagging his fingers in Crane’s face in warning.

“Don’t move.” Bruce then turned to his closet and began rummaging through it quickly, tossing discarded clothes over his shoulder like he was trying to hurt them.

Obviously he was still upset over the incident in the bathroom but Crane thought he was being a brat. After all, Crane was the one who’d yet to receive any satisfaction out of their little arrangement. And the thick cock that had been pressed against his own scant seconds ago had seemed perfectly capable of satisfying him.

Although it was probably for the best. Crane didn’t fool himself into thinking that Bruce’s hospitality stemmed from anything but unfulfilled lust and the desire to obtain a cure for the toxin. The latter Crane couldn’t avoid giving him, more for himself than for the victims of his drug, but that was a necessary good. As for the former Crane knew that once it had been sated Wayne probably would shove Crane into some dark corner of that damned cave and forget about him.

Crane frowned darkly at the thought. Batman probably wouldn’t even let him have any of his cure. Then he’d go irreversibly mad, with only the bats and the voices to keep him company.

Well that settled it. He just wouldn’t give Bruce what he wanted, even if Crane desired him as well. It was simply a matter of exercising some self-control. Crane was excellent at that.

Before the Batman came, a whispery part of his mind said mockingly.

He dismissed it and stared around his luxurious surroundings. While his own upbringing had included an adequately-sized home, he’d never been in such a wanton display of wealth. Crane thought of how large the mansion would be once it was rebuilt and felt slightly nauseous.

All this wealth, just for being born, Crane thought, glaring at Bruce’s strong back. He’s never had to work for anything in his life save to placate his own pathetic sense of obligation.

Although that sense of obligation had certainly gifted Bruce with a magnificent body. Crane was used to people being larger than him. Hell, even that vapid piece of fluff from the DA’s office was taller than he was. However Bruce’s size wasn’t even so much in his height but in the large powerful muscles that spanned every inch of him that could support musculature. Crane admired his arms, strong rippling things that could hold him in place so securely, but he mostly enjoyed Bruce’s back. It was broad and hard and Crane could just imagine digging his fingers into it as Bruce pounded relentlessly in him.

Anybody watching Crane would have had no idea as to where his thoughts were save for a slow blink and a sudden sniff as he forced his mind away from the enemy’s perfect body. However Crane was horrified over the slip and decided to break the suddenly oppressive silence.

“Are you going to be much longer? I could return to the cave like this if picking out clothes is so difficult without your butler to help you.”

“These will work. The rest of my school clothes went up in the fire,” Bruce said, ignoring Crane’s barbs as usual. He turned around and came back to Crane’s side, holding out what he probably thought was a small shirt and pants.

Crane regarded them in irritation. Even though they were obviously from when Wayne had been much younger, they were still many sizes too large for him. It really wasn’t fair.

“I can still go get you something to eat before I have to chain you up again.” Bruce’s tone was markedly kinder than it had been previously and Crane could see how hard it was for him to accept how cruel he could naturally be.

“Don’t mistake your guilt for compassion, Batman.” Crane took the clothes. “I won’t.”

“Screw you, Crane. Is it so hard to believe that I want to treat you like a human being?” Bruce was glaring fiercely at him and something primal in Crane reacted to the heat in his eyes. “You’re going to be here awhile. It doesn’t have to be completely miserable for you.”

“You still haven’t accepted what you’re going to do to me eventually, have you?” Crane smirked at the shamed look on Bruce’s face. He was so predictable. “I meant, how you’re going to have to eventually kill me to keep your secret a secret.”

“I don’t kill people.”

“Really? It’s much easier than it sounds.” Crane felt suddenly vulnerable in the enormous robe with the Batman towering over him like the creature he was. “I don’t suppose I could get you to turn around while I get dressed?”

“You don’t really have anything more to hide from me, Crane.” Bruce apparently thought himself back on comfortable footing judging by the sly grin that slid over his face.

“You’d be surprised,” Crane said coolly but relented to untying the robe sash and letting it fall open.

Surprisingly Wayne turned around at the same time and walked over to a chair near his bed. He purposefully turned it so that it was facing away from Crane and sat down. Crane felt oddly grateful until Bruce ruined it by talking, “Don’t bother trying to run away. You wouldn’t get far.”

“Where on earth would I go when you have my toxin?” Crane snapped, tugging the huge university shirt over his head. He picked up his glasses from the counter where Bruce had set them and slipped them on. “You can turn around now.”

“Good point, although you seemed to be managing all right for yourself these past few weeks. Except for all the crazy.” Bruce was grinning again, something Crane could guess was rare for him. He wished that it was rare around him. It pissed him off and turned him on all at the same time.

Bruce flipped his chair around and looked Crane over. The somberness that spread over his face made Crane wonder what was wrong with the sight of him.

“You look really young in those clothes,” Bruce said and Crane nearly hit him. They were nearly the same age and he didn’t need another reminder that he was shorter than the giants that walked around Gotham City.

Crane couldn’t think of a suitably snarky reply, however, and he cast his eyes around the room for something to criticize. The first thing to catch his attention was a badly burned case with twisted pieces of metal sitting in it. He walked over and touched the top of the case. “What is this supposed to be?”

“It belonged to my father.” Bruce was up like a shot and across the room. He pulled Crane’s hand off the burnt plastic and gently closed the case.

“Ah yes, Dr. Wayne. I met him once.”

“Really?” Bruce looked childishly pleased. “How?”

Crane’s face darkened slightly as he realized that he didn’t really want to discuss it. “I was with my father. They had some business together.”

“What does your father do?” There was almost genuine curiosity in Bruce’s voice.

“He was a child psychiatrist,” Crane said distantly. His eyes roamed slowly over the other scant items in the room, trying to distract himself from any potential memory that might pop up.

“I guess you took after him.”

A sudden sharp pain and a voice scolding him calmly, gently, “Now, Jonathan, please try to concentrate this time. What do you see in this picture?”

“Crane?” Bruce asked from somewhere far away.

“A…bird?” It was a hesitant try and he knew that it was wrong before the word was completely out. The pain came again, quick and blinding.

A disappointed sigh that somehow hurt than anything else. “You’re making very poor progress, Jonathan.”

A small sobbed plea to give him another chance and another deep sigh. “There’s no need to be so emotional, Jonathan. Please try to control yourself or I’ll have no choice but to punish you.”

“Crane!” Bruce was shaking him hard. Crane jerked away hard, his eyes wide and glassy behind his spectacles.

The two men stared at each other for a moment, each revealing emotions that neither were willing to see. Crane pulled himself together with all of his remaining strength.

“Actually I’ve been told that I’m not very much like him. He was generally well-liked.” His face grew cool once more and he turned around with a sudden robotic motion. His eyes widened as he spotted a pressed blue flower next to a large spiked glove in a lit case. He walked over to it.

“This is Ra’s Al Ghul’s glove.” Crane tapped his fingers lightly on the case, smiling slightly at the intricate design around the knuckle spikes. He had fond memories of those spikes.

“This belonged to Ducard,” Bruce corrected. He came up beside Crane, still studying him carefully.

Crane’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at Bruce as he looked back at him. “Surely you are aware that they are one and the same?”

“He told you,” Bruce accused him in an irritated voice.

Crane chuckled. “Assuredly not. However it’s hard to keep secrets from the man you’re sleeping with when he’s also a highly-skilled psychiatrist.”

“You and Ducard were lovers?” There was danger in Bruce’s tone. Crane would have been wise to acknowledge it. However he was still shook up over his impromptu trip through nostalgia and angry over having shown such a weakness. His response was to flash Bruce a smirk filled with malice.

“Of course. Almost immediately.” Crane paused and thought. “He was the best lover I’ve ever had actually. Very…driven.”

Crane took a peek at Bruce’s face and grinned delightedly at the rage that was warping it. He slid closer to Bruce and whispered conspiratorially, “He would take me to the brink of release and keep me there for hours, causing pleasures and pain that I’d never known before. I’ve never been with a man that satisfied me so…completely.”

Crane experienced a brief moment of triumph before Bruce descended on him.

* * *

Bruce could feel an insane rage building up inside him as Crane talked about his relationship with Ducard. He wasn’t sure what made him angrier, that Ducard had chosen Crane as his lover when he hadn’t Bruce or that Crane had so eagerly given himself to Ducard when he seemed to find every interaction with Bruce an irritation.

This time when Bruce kissed Crane, he searched for the taste of Ducard on those mocking lips. His tongue barged in and searched teeth, skin, and docile tongue for traces of his former mentor. Bruce pulled Crane forcefully to him, one hand wrapping around his slender waist as the other snuck up the long shirt, pulling it up and touching soft flesh for the first time. He explored for a few moments before reaching for the button on Crane’s jeans. He tried to keep his mouth fused with the doctor’s while undoing the clasp, but it proved difficult. Especially when Crane began to pull away.

“No,” Crane muttered, putting his hands on Bruce’s chest and pushing slightly.

“Did you say no to him?” Bruce snarled, finally winning the battle with his pants on Crane’s body and undid the top button. He began pulling down the zipper and smiled wolfishly when he felt Crane’s bare erection against his knuckles.

“I said no!” Crane took advantage of Bruce’s distraction and pulled away completely. His legs hit the display table behind him. The glass case containing Ducard’s glove swayed dangerously.

“What’s wrong with you?” Bruce took a step towards Crane and then stopped at the panicked look on his lean face.

“What’s wrong with you? I obviously don’t want to have sex with you.” Crane hurriedly closed his jeans and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You did earlier,” Bruce reminded him.

“I just wanted you to help me. Now you have no choice.”

“I don’t believe you.” Bruce gestured to Crane’s obvious erection. “That tells me that you’re lying.”

Crane swallowed hard, trying to look calm and professional as always and just barely failing. “Well, I say I’m not. Are you going to force me to have sex with you?”

“I wouldn’t do that.” Bruce was disgusted, both at the idea and the fact that Crane thought him capable of it.

“Then why don’t you chain me back up downstairs and we’ll call it a night, okay?”

Bruce paused for a long moment, staring intently at the aroused doctor. He finally nodded.

“Okay.”

* * *

He ended up tying Crane up with a rope instead of the chains, in some vain chivalrous hope that it would cause fewer bruises. He wrapped the rope several times around Crane’s delicate wrists and then tied his hands behind his back. More rope was looped around his waist and around each individual leg. He did allow the doctor one freedom, however, and gave him enough slack on the rope to walk around the table it was tied to. Crane didn’t seem particularly appreciative, but Bruce didn’t let it bother him. Too much else was.

“Tell me where you live,” Bruce said as he finished tying the end of the rope to the bottom of the table. Even if Crane could get his hands free he would have a damnably hard time untying the rope attaching him to the stone table.

“Why?” Crane murmured, his legs swinging lazily over the table. The thought that the doctor might try to kick him in the head had crossed Bruce’s mind, but he didn’t think that Crane would be that foolish. The blow would never reach him and he would make Crane regret the attempt.

“I’m going to get some of your clothes, if the police have left anything.”

Crane’s legs stopped moving momentarily. “You don’t like me wearing your clothes, Batman?”

Bruce stood up and rubbed his hands on his pants casually. “No.”

Crane’s legs started swinging back and forth again. It was really like watching a child at a doctor’s exam. A child in his older brother’s clothes.

“Number 341 at Golden Avenue Apartments.” Crane regarded Bruce solemnly. “That’s in the Narrows.”

“Thank you.” Bruce turned to where he could change into his suit without the doctor watching him. Crane’s voice stopped him.

“Please don’t touch any of my other things, Batman. Not everybody can afford a maid.”

“I really don’t like you,” Bruce said, turning around just enough to see Crane’s wide smile.

“The feeling is reciprocated. Have fun night out, Batman. Do try to get some work done.”

* * *

Dr. Crane had given him good advice. Batman really should have been watching the streets for signs of the Joker person Lt. Gordon had told him about. Instead he found himself breaking into the apartment of a wanted fugitive. If Batman were the chuckling sort he would have had a hearty laugh at that.

Crane’s apartment was covered in police tape but appeared mostly untouched. Batman figured that there were still enough corrupt cops in the department to keep such a prolific criminal’s personal belongings safe from an in-depth inspection. Batman wondered if Gordon had been allowed to search the apartment. Somehow he doubted it.

It was a rather small apartment, considering that it belonged to a head doctor, and seemed sadly empty. It had the clean impersonal look of a place where a man slept but didn’t necessarily live in.

Also Crane had awful taste in furniture. Batman frowned at the hideous brown sofa and matching chair in the living room before moving towards what he believed to be the bedroom.

The bedroom was slightly more attractive than the rest of the apartment. Crane seemed to favor lots of reds, from the crimson bed sheets to the rich scarlet wallpaper. His bed was large with long wooden bedposts that extended nearly halfway up the room. There was a small cabinet near the bed, the same black color as his dresser and the chair in the corner closest to the window.

Batman went to the closet and began randomly pulling out Crane’s clothes, noting with some vague amusement that he seemed to have everything organized by type and color. The man had really been wound up tight before he’d breathed in his own fear gas.

He went to the dresser next to collect socks and discovered that Crane was a briefs man. He opened another drawer and was momentarily stunned.

As neatly arranged as his clothes had been were a variety of sex toys, all obviously bent in the direction of BDSM. There were more handcuffs than the police department probably owned, all lacking the comfortable lining most recreational handcuffs came with and looking wicked stacked so perfectly on top of one another. There were whips and a small set of chains along with ropes and various leather collars and cuffs. Some things he couldn’t even identify, if only to think that their most obvious function would cause pain to whoever used them. Batman reached without thinking towards some blindfolds and stopped himself.

He’d already known that Crane was pretty kinky and it wasn’t like he didn’t have some recreational handcuffs lying around himself. But still…

Batman looked at an item that looked like nothing more than a thin, headless screwdriver and what appeared to be a metal pinwheel with jagged spikes.

Batman shut the drawer and threw Crane’s clothes into a luggage bag he’d found in the closet. He was about to leave when something made him turn back.

He opened the drawer again and stared at its contents. He wondered if Crane preferred to be in the handcuffs or putting someone in them. That provoked a stunning image of Crane on his bed, his arms locked securely to the bedposts as he writhed in pleasure under Bruce’s tongue. Batman sighed and put a few less painful-looking items in the bag before closing it.

After a few moments he unzipped the bag once more and threw everything else in.

If Crane was going to be living with him for a while, well, the least Bruce could do was try to make him feel at home.

TBC

Thanks

gilthoniel: Yes, I am mean. I've been told that before. Thank you!

Alice: I just like you. Seriously. Your reviews make me happy.

Sarkywoman: Sadistic domination? Ain't seen nothing yet!

Rei: Wow, thank you! I love that!

Dragon: I'm going to make you wait almost a month apparently. RL sucks.

Allie B.: I love Harley. I love writing Harley. It all works together. Thank you!

wabbitsox: Crane probably just didn't want a faucet up his ass. *Pauses* God, I should check with someone before I talk.

In Session Five: Building Burnt Bridges and Making Old Friends

“Did you like what you saw in my second drawer?” Crane pressed himself intimately close to Bruce, so close that the billionaire could feel the other man’s heart beating wildly. Crane grinned and kissed Bruce fiercely, all of his usual passivity missing as he savaged the mouth before him.