A Simple Misunderstanding
Dec. 11th, 2007 05:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shankieThis is DC Comics, but, with a few changes to early 90’s continuity. Before the Flash joins up with another hero team, but after he becomes a Keystone P.D. mechanic, and the whole thing where he reveals his secret identity to the world (in his underwear) never happened, so it’s still a secret. A couple other tweaks here and there, nothing huge. Makes reference to The Flash, first meeting Batman in #210 and the bondage in #32.
Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wachey & counterfeitcoin. :D
Any references to Adam West are entirely accidental.
A Simple Misunderstanding
Bruce/Wally, NC-17; bondage, voyeurism, explicit m/m sex, language.
10k+ words.
Batman chases down a suspect; a very fast suspect with enough clout in the superhero community that he can’t be too careful about it. When the charade turns in a direction he didn’t expect, Batman goes to great lengths of de-cel line to clear the air with the Flash.
Wally West did a poor job of keeping his secret identity a secret. That it was still unknown to the general public was something of a small miracle; there wasn’t a hint of self-control in him. He cheated on his girlfriends, he brushed off his best friends, and he seemed to have estranged himself from both of his parents.
It saddened Bruce to think that Barry had once had such pride in him, such high hopes for the future. If Wally survived much longer as the Flash, in any sense, that would be another miracle in and of itself.
Barry’s memory, and the knowledge that Dick would never forgive him for mishandling this case made Batman cautious.
Someone had been moving at the Flash’s speed, wearing the Flash’s costume, just barely caught on a security camera in Gotham City. Stealing money and technology that could be used in remaking a Cosmic Treadmill. Not that he thought West had the technical expertise to do such a thing, and he was under the impression that the original model in the Flash Museum was intact.
Even so.
West had recently become bankrupt, going from a mansion to a cramped apartment. Everything was pointing at him as the culprit.
Means, motive, and opportunity. But the mask on the costume meant he had doubts to clear up before he could make any sort of official move; he couldn’t afford to be wrong about this. The images weren’t clear enough to determine who’s face was behind it.
Barry’s name still carried a heavy weight in the circles, one that he’d have difficulty with for a long time if he seemingly trying to tarnish it wrongfully. In all truth, he didn’t want to think his protoge` had gone down the wrong path; Barry had been one of the best. Still sorely missed. It was risk enough that he needed a second opinion. A subjective but honest opinion that was from an excellent judge of character. Someone trustworthy.
Batman looked up into the sky and restrained a smirk as Superman gracefully landed beside him on the rooftop.
“Hello, Bruce,” he said, still enjoying that he could taunt him with knowing his secret. “What do you need?”
“I suspect that the Flash may be participating in criminal activity,” he said bluntly, handing over a hard copy of his evidence. “Unless that was you in his uniform.”
There was always the unlikely possibility, but Clark’s face was bad at lying, regardless of how he had others fooled. “No, I remember where I was at this time stamp. China.” He seemed unwilling to give an opinion right away, reading through the folder quickly but carefully in a few moments.
He handed it back when he was done, with a serious look, something clearly worrying him. “Wally didn’t take Barry’s death well,” he said ominously. “I haven’t seen him much in the last few years.”
“I doesn’t appear that anyone has, outside his circle of civilian friends and family. And might I point out who that includes. Hartley Rathaway. Jerry McGee. Chester Runk. All had stints as super-criminals. And he’s been seen socially with Barry’s old Rogues, supposedly reformed or not, publicly and privately.”
“It’s not a crime to give someone a second chance,” Superman interjected.
“The evidence points otherwise. But I’ll need another way to catch him. He’s impossible to track.”
“I assume you’ve tried your toys?”
“He searches the uniform before he stores them. And Rathaway has surprisingly sophisticated communication interference in the entire apartment building.”
Superman chuckled and Bruce bristled. He didn’t like being outdone by a former criminal and a hack, but he hated that Clark enjoyed it when he couldn’t do everything. Just as much as the reverse was true, he had to admit, and shrug it off.
“You should get to know him,” Superman said. “Before you do anything else. Here... take the cowl off.”
Batman looked around, but they were alone, high up. He did it reluctantly, surprised as Clark took a pair of glasses hidden in his cape and slid them on Bruce’s face. “If it works for me...”
They were a terrible prescription, surprisingly strong, but that was easily fixed. It was a good idea; go undercover and see for himself.
It would also be excellent practice. He’d have to make up some paperwork, create a name, find a way into the Keystone P.D. to get close to him on a daily basis. Pull off a disguise on a semi long-term basis. Practice. And caution.
“I’ll let you know what I find,” Bruce said, nodding.
“Please. Is that all?”
“Yes.” He tucked the file away and watched Superman smile and take off. Flying towards the moon, becoming a dark spot and finally vanishing from sight.
‘No,’ he might have said, plucked Superman from the sky for a while to find out more about what was inside the man. That would admit to being fascinated.
Right now, he had someone else to become focused on.
* * *
Bruce pulled the car up on the other side of the road, parked just for a moment. He’d meant just for a drive-by to get a feeling for West’s neighborhood, but was getting an eyeful of a whole lot more.
West was wearing the tiniest cut-off denim shorts Bruce had ever seen on anyone outside a strip club or a brothel, bending over to lift boxes. He carried an unsurprisingly heavy amount fairly easily, in a tank top that exposed most of his belly and pink sneakers.
Which was not to say he didn’t have the body to pull that off. Because he did.
It wasn’t long before he came back outside for another load, becoming distracted by woman Bruce recognized as another tenant, an older black woman that aged well. Wally had his hands on his hips and flirting as he was pulling off what might have been a parody of a gay man if not for the unreal outfit he was wearing. By the reactions of the others, this was nothing out of the ordinary.
Interesting.
Bruce took a few pictures, discreetly, and left.
* * *
It seemed fitting to have an apartment overlooking West’s. Remote surveillance with technology didn’t work, and wouldn’t without interference Rathaway would notice, which left the old-fashioned way. There were an abundance of empty places with the right view available, high turnover rates of tenants all through this part of town.
He installed black curtains, his equipment, and was sure to furnish enough that it was a normal enough apartment, if sparse. For the benefit of the delivery boys.
Tomorrow he’d be starting a position at the crime lab as Dr. Adam Carter, forensic scientist from New York. West was a mechanic in their garage, but all vehicles would be taken there for work. A suitably big job could get a good deal of contact for a week.
Bruce turned off the lights. There were no curtains on the windows he was looking into, West’s apartment cluttered but nearly as sparse as this one. Through the scope, he saw him going in and out of the kitchen in a blur. Piper was there in the living room, talking about the mechanical details of a device they’d used, but West didn’t seem to be listening.
Still wearing that ridiculous outfit.
Piper didn’t seem to mind all the exposure of Wally’s legs. He was now barefoot when he came into sight, his package just barely staying inside the tiny shorts. In fact, Piper was staring at exactly that, but Flash loved any attention he could get. Apparently still oblivious to Rathaway’s sexual preference, all the while.
Or he was an accomplished tease.
He seemed still oblivious to the sexual attention as he finished cooking, flopping down on the couch with a pile of sandwiches. Rathaway ate one, West had about fifteen, and they talked about Cathrine. One of his ex-girlfriends.
Bruce knew the way to get close to West, and quickly. He decided that was enough for one night and opened his laptop to catch up on events in Gotham.
* * *
Dr. Carter’s car was a mess. He made sure of it, following behind into the garage with all the frustration he could muster about it.
West was in gray overalls, grease on his cheek and goggles up in his wild red hair. Rubbing his hands in a rag, he strolled up to him casually. “You must be new around here,” he greeted. “If you’re another stuck-up suit I might have to kick you out,” he continued with a grin.
“I don’t think so,” he replied, offering his hand. West seemed amused by that, but shook it, and left traces of grease on his hand. “That’s a firm handshake,” he said, looking West over meaningfully.
“Thank you.” West clearly enjoyed flirting back, a sultry look in his eyes.
Obviously he wasn’t serious, Bruce could tell. He was flirting because he didn’t know how else to react.
This would require... a different approach. More direct.
He picked a sizable torque wrench up off a bench, moved it with a sound of metal. Making sure it captured West’s attention before he stroked the cool length of it meaningfully. It captivated his attention for a moment, green eyes flickering with more feelings than he could quite follow.
“Are you seeing anyone?” Adam asked, nonchalantly.
“Not really. I mean, well... no. Not really.” He looked a little worried. “Are you?”
“Not for some time. The right man keeps escaping me.” Adam grinned, enjoying himself, and Wally’s discomfort, a little more than he’d expected.
“That’s a shame.” West backed into a rack of tools, visibly suppressing the desire to catch more than one of them before they fell. Moving a little too fast, even so. Most of them rang on the floor.
“Nice reflexes.”
“Ha! Right, thank you, yes.”
The aggressive, carefree exterior was melting away. West was gravitating toward him uncertainly, as if worried he might be being toyed with. If only he knew.
“Take good care of her,” Adam said. “When should I come back?”
“Tonight, come back tonight.”
He made sure the garage was empty when he met West there, just him and the car.
“Hey! I’ve been on this baby for hours, and listen. It’s going to be a while before she’s running again. What did you do?”
“It was an accident.”
Bruce stepped forward, as Adam Carter, a stranger in a dress shirt and tie, Clark’s wire-rimmed glasses, and the sense of detachment from himself as he became the character. Forward, and clearly interested in Mr. West. He reintroduced himself.
“West?” he read off the overalls, getting closer to him.
“Wally West, nice to meet you.” He was nervous now, hiding it with a toothy smile.
“I’m not scary,” Adam laughed, put his hands in the air.
“I’m not afraid of you! That’s, that’s silly, see, why would I?” He laughed in a clearly nervous fashion and tried redirecting attention to the car.
Adam didn’t listen, but took the opportunity to get closer. Wally didn’t even react, at first, when he put his hand on his hip.
“I don’t mean to be forward. But you’re... so sexy. And I think you like me.”
“Yeah.”
Just like his file said he would, West was easily subdued by sexual advances. Even from a perfect stranger. Especially from a stranger. He was breathing quickly, sweating a little, aroused. He’d been still uncertain as to how he’d react to a man’s forward advances, but it seemed to be the same idea.
He was powerful enough to get Adam off him if he tried at all. West put his hand over his like he might, but pressed a little closer.
“A garage is a weird place to try and pick guys up.”
“I’m new in town, you’ll have to show me how it works.”
In that moment, Bruce decided he might be crossing a line. Wally kissed him with genuine enthusiasm, quickly and uncertainly. Impulsive. Terrified to desire in thirty seconds, enough that Bruce was taken aback.
It wasn’t supposed to go this far.
“I’ve never made out with a dude before. That’s so weird.”
“You still haven’t.” He shook himself back into character, touched Wally’s face.
Wally was giving him a beseeching look that begged to be told what to do next, how he should be responding. That he didn’t know what to do. It was adorable.
“I’ll check in tomorrow morning,” Adam said.
Adam left, but Bruce didn’t.
He watched through a camera in the car, Wally watching after him. Sinking against the side of the car, unzipping his coveralls.
Hard, exposing himself in what he thought to be unseen privacy. He spoke as he began stroking himself, and Bruce read his lips; ‘big hard cock.’ A blur and he came, slamming his head against the car window, but it didn’t seem to hurt.
Sweat glistened on his face in a second of rapture. He looked tenderly innocent, in the way most do in sleep, he was in pleasure.
Perhaps this was the wrong way to go about this, because it was proving so effective. He hadn’t known for sure, Wally might have been straight as an arrow; and it seemed Wally hadn’t known, either.
Another few days and West would be eating out of his hand.
* * *
West spent time pleasuring himself in his bed every day and night now; it was true, there were no female visits for two days. No girlfriend at present. No overtly suspicious activity, either.
At the moment, Rathaway was waiting in his living room with Mason Trollbridge, watching television while their host was getting off in the other room. Biting his fingers to silence himself as he came.
He would usually only take a few seconds to do it, cleaning up and collecting himself in even less. It was... amazing. A blur, tense, release.
Bruce took another bite of pizza and watched him put a pair of running shorts on before walking back into the living room like nothing had happened, not gone long enough to be suspicious.
West left several times while his guests were still there, gone in a red blur, back with a quip about needing groceries or stopping a crime.
The Keystone systems weren’t as open to Batman as they were in Gotham, but enough that he could see security footage from all over the city. West didn’t always go where he said he was to his friends. Even lip-reading from this distance, Batman knew he was lying.
Adam kept himself more distant the next few times they met. The lab work kept him at arm’s length but West’s actions and record easy to access.
West gave him this look like he wanted to ask him something he was afraid to, hiding what was likely abandonment under a harsh exterior. Making fun of Adam’s clothes. Bruce might have had something to say about that, but it would show his hand.
It became apparent that West was going to great lengths to be alone when Adam came by, and he was always jittery around him.
Bruce couldn’t find anything without getting closer. He also didn’t have the time to prolong this exercise.
West was leaning inside the open hood, pointing out the spark plugs he’d replaced that day. Adam still wasn’t interested in the car, watching him over the edges of the glasses.
It took a moment for West to notice, turn and look up at him. Lips slightly parted, that sort of surprised look in his eyes.
“I’m getting off in a half-hour,” Wally said lightly.
“I’ll make sure you do.”
Just that quickly, just that easily, Wally was telling him where he lived. Like a promise to spill out anything else he wanted to know.
“I’ll be there,” Adam promised. “Seven o’clock.”
“Okay.”
It gave Batman an hour to prepare.
He put on an undershirt to hide most of the obvious scars, reservations and all.
It was only sex.
At six-thirty, Wally got home. Paced around his apartment, cleaning up in something of a panicked frenzy. He wore twelve different outfits before settling on something remarkably reserved, a simple button-up shirt tucked into slacks.
Batman watched him and imagined taking off those clothes again. Having his way.
West was turned on by Adam’s dominance and Batman could give him that.
Exactly on time, Adam knocked on the door, to have it open almost immediately. West looked downright petrified, but those trousers did nothing to hide his feelings.
“H-hi.”
“West,” Adam drawled, pushing into the room. Shutting the door after it became apparent Wally wasn’t going to do it. “What’s that cologne you’re wearing?”
It was liberating to smile, follow spontaneous desires. He’d been one of Dick’s best friends as a kid, he might be crossing the line of the law. Batman reminded him that Bruce wasn’t really here.
“It’s, uh, I don’t remember.” It was if he was asking for Adam to move over, stand over him, breathe in his scent. Calvin Klein. “Do you... want anything?”
Where was that confidant show-off now?
“You.” Adam grabbed Wally’s arm, brought him against his body. The erection was unmistakable now.
Wally pulled him into the bedroom, candles already lit on the dresser that made Bruce chuckle.
“What?”
“Are you romancing me?”
“I just... thought...”
“I like it.” Adam kissed him gently, firmly. “Now take your clothes off. For me.”
Suddenly Batman was the only audience there, as Wally obeyed him, left him in the shadows, played to them with his smile.
To Wally, he was just a stranger with an intriguing proposition. He loved it.
The shirt came off first, button by button, Wally making dramatic sound effects that would have sounded silly from anyone else. He didn’t do anything quietly.
“Why me?” Wally asked, up on his knees, opening his fly. “I’m not gay.”
“Neither am I.”
“You were looking for a man, that’s pretty...”
“Not just any man. I was looking for you.”
Wally laughed and didn’t seem to believe a word of it, or care. Batman stood there as he took off his pants. No underwear.
“I like skipping to the good parts,” Wally said like a confession, sinking down on his knees with his cock in his hands. Touching it tenderly, in a way that made Batman sure he’d named it something juvenile. Like ‘Big Daddy’ or ‘The Hammer.’ He trimmed his pubic hair, which was an electric shade of red that put the hair on his head to shame.
Neat around his navel. He shaved his balls, enjoyed touching them for his guest. Batman imagined how they felt, soft, fragile, and gripped his fingers.
Wally loved his own body and didn’t make it a secret. He spread his legs, traced the lines of his muscles, worshipping and watching himself.
An exhibitionist. That wasn’t surprising.
“Lay back on the bed, so I can see you.”
Wally laughed while he did, wiggling a little as he got comfortable, his legs wide, cupping himself.
There was generally nothing of particular appeal about another man’s genitalia. Something about the grooming, Wally’s own seeming affection for it, made this different. The thick erection was desire for him.
“I’m sure you have lotion by the bed. Get it.”
Wally had it on the floor, on the other side of the bed. That he did embarrassed him, a blush that went all over his skin. He had a freckle on the inside of his left thigh.
“Now, spread it on your fingers. And fuck yourself.”
“You... dirty man.” Wally seemed to think the idea was foolish, unless one was looking at how his cock bobbed, he squeezed his hips. His hands were shaking as he couldn’t obey fast enough.
Or maybe this all seemed like an eternity to him. Batman wasn’t sure how his powers worked passively, but something in Wally’s eyes was looking at something that Batman couldn’t see.
Wally’s fingers pushed inside himself, his hips raised, pushing against his curved hand. He wasn’t sure how to go about it at first, but didn’t take long to decide he liked the feeling. Deeper, he moaned, curled so he could push even deeper. His fingers made wet sounds as he kept going.
“Stop.”
“Oh man.” Wally pulled his hand back, cleaned it off with a tissue and caught his breath, his chest moving up and down. “Are you just going to watch?” He rolled his head to face the figure in the shadows.
“Keep touching yourself.”
Wally shook his head, closed his eyes, and his hips rose up again to meet his hand.
“Touch me,” he softly begged, pulling on his erection, such aching slowness absent from when he was alone. “Please.”
“Faster,” was all he replied.
“Why am I doing this?” Wally asked himself as his hand moved just a little too fast for a normal human. He squeezed his pelvic muscles and his back arched as he moaned and came in his hand, semen splashing on his belly like a deliciously obscene exclamation point.
Batman didn’t just want to touch him. He wanted to taste him, consume him.
Wally caught just a few breaths before Adam was on top of him, holding his loose body down. He touched the wetness on Wally’s belly and licked his fingers. It made Wally hard again, almost instantly.
Putty in his hands. He practically begged Adam to fuck him, a breathy whine in his voice as he squeezed against him, wrapping his legs around him.
“Have you been a naughty boy, Wally?” He lifted up Wally’s hips and slapped his ass hard enough to hurt. Wally jerked against him and let out a sound of surprise. So he hit him again.
“Yes!” Wally screamed. “Oh, I’m such a bad boy!”
“What have you done?”
Another blow, another. Wally was squirming against him and crying out, but not telling him to stop.
“I, oh! I lie all the time, to everyone, I even lied to you when I said I wasn’t scared, oh! You’re so scary!”
“What else?”
“I cheated my way through college! Oh! I stole my breakfast this morning! I didn’t have any money and I was hungry!” Batman hit him harder, his ass turning bright red. He gripped that cheek and moved to the other one. “Ah! It hurts!”
“What else?”
Wally moaned and thrust against him, trying not to, but he came again. Twice. Batman didn’t let go, and he didn’t seem to be done yet. There would be stains on this shirt and he was still hard. The palm fell again sharply on his ass. Wally jumped and squirmed. “I cheated on my taxes! Oh God I forgot my mom’s birthday last year!”
This could go on for hours.
Batman was too wound, even his self-control had limits and Wally was almost reduced to incoherent babbling. He spouted confessions about swearing in front of children and blowing off his friends as his other cheek turned a matching crimson shade going towards purple.
“Please fuck me! Oh please!”
He threw Wally down on the bed, where he writhed and touched himself, grinding against the covers. Batman kept his clothes on, soiled or not, just took his erection out of his pants.
The sight of it made Wally spread his legs, uncertainly trying to accommodate him, anything he wanted.
Wally’s groin was wet with sex and glistened. Batman leaned down, licked his balls, tongued the thick, salty taste, heard Wally begging without coherent words. He had to be sensitive, tender now, moving and reacting so acutely to the motions of his lips.
“Adam,” Wally moaned, and it was so wrong, but he didn’t correct him.
He knew Wally’s body couldn’t retain any disease short of something specifically engineered, wanted to feel this, and took the small risk of going without the condoms he’d brought with him. Anything that could infect a hyper-accellerated metabolism would get half the planet in a week.
The lotion was still laying on the bed and Batman lathered it on himself, with more strokes than were necessary, holding up Wally’s leg, holding him open. So open.
Wally had never done this before. So he’d said, so he believed, with an almost virginal look in his eyes as Batman held him and thrust inside.
Trust.
“Oh my God,” Wally moaned, tearing at the covers with his fingers, his back arching up from the bed.
His hands moved up to the headboard as the strokes began, gradual, meaningful thrusts that were driving both of them crazy. Driving Batman harder into him, until the bed was thumping against the wall.
It had been a long time, longer than he’d care to admit, since he’d been with anyone. Seen his cock entering someone, taking them, making them scream in pleasure.
Far too long.
He had his fill of Wally’s taut ass and smacked it again forcefully as he came, long and satisfying.
Wally also seemed to be finally satisfied, smiling sleepily, laying where he’d fallen, legs bent out and his arms loose beside his head.
“That was great,” he murmured, with a silly lop-sided smile.
Worn out, at least for the moment, there was something so tender again on his face, so... alluring.
This shouldn’t have gone so far.
Batman touched his cheek and watched him smile in response.
“I have to go.”
“Don’t have to.”
“I... have work to do.”
“‘Kay.”
After he was sure Wally was asleep, Batman did a cursory sweep of the room, searched his pockets. Nothing more incriminating than candy bar wrappers and a small stack of pornography under the bed. $4.35 in his wallet.
On the way out, he took off the semen-stained shirt, walking back to his own rented room with just the undershirt on.
In the short distance he was unseen, avoided anyone easily enough.
He went back to his room, showered, and went back to watching the still form, one eye on Gotham.
Wally kept sleeping for a few hours, waking up later that night slow and drowsy. He reached above his head, yawning widely as he stretched, scratching himself on the way back down in a lazy way.
Bruce sighed, stepped back from the window and took another shower. A cold one.
He could have learned more by staying. Wally had no idea who he really was... so why did he suddenly seem so dangerous?
* * *
Watching the cocky look melt off Wally’s face into timid submission became a familiar sight; it happened whenever Adam walked into the garage to look in on his car.
The repair work was never done, he made sure of that. Wally worked endlessly and couldn’t understand why new problems kept arising before he’d even had things nailed down... but if he was frustrated, he never showed it to Adam. Privately, he’s scream and throw a fit over it, but when Adam walked in... he look weak in the knees, had apologized a thousand times for something that wasn’t his fault. It would be irritating if it wasn’t so damned endearing.
It had been another two days of watching Wally touch himself constantly, and only the most professional behavior at work. His behavior had been completely unprofessional, and he’d hoped that, perhaps, he could redeem himself in his mind. Apparently not.
Distance kept him even.
Dr. Carter’s lab work was complimented, but he wasn’t interested in it. Went through the job, the cover, like going through familiar motions. Smiling when he was supposed to, nodding, returning to the analysis.
This what what was interesting; watching Wally interact with his co-workers. He’d keep a face of just the measure of seriousness a place like a garage required. Being ‘one of the boys’ was hardly unfamiliar to him. Not so much an act as a different part of himself he embraced, just as crass and inappropriate as he was honest and well-liked for the most part. Blunt honesty.
At the moment, Wally was trying to recover from a just-too-detailed admiration for their boss’s wife’s breasts. Nobody had noticed Adam there yet, shaking their heads in disbelief.
“What?” Wally held his hands out helplessly. “I’m just saying.” He tossed his head proudly and rolled his eyes. “You’re all just jealous.”
“Of you?” one laughed, “I don’t think so.”
“Dating one model doesn’t make you Casanova.”
It seemed to Bruce a good deal of them were jealous. There was a snicker of “dog food commercials” a they moved around again in their work, the conversation trailing off and firmly ending when Adam made his presence known.
“How is she?”
Wally beamed up at him. “I fixed the brakes. Again. And that problem with the spark plugs. Again. But I’m getting somewhere, right?”
“I hope so.”
“Never had so much trouble. With a car.” He leaned against it, up on a lift, casual but just shaky enough to need to shift around a little, closer to Adam. “Had lunch yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Do you... want to?”
“Alright.” He didn’t let on anything, treated West like any other acquaintance.
West didn’t seem to mind, jittery, yes, but he had an ego the size of a planet. Such a thing goes a long way towards a confidant exterior. He wasn’t exactly smiling anymore as he gestured toward the car with a wrench. Wearing worn work gloves with the wrists rolled down, so smooth skin was visible in a glimpse. White skin, impossibly soft, he knew that from vivid memory.
Self-control. Willpower. He wouldn’t let himself indulge in West again.
But there were still things he had to know.
The lab work had been so routine it didn’t fit into anything other than spaces of time.
Then a case fell in his lap, a case he knew the police would never solve. Dead hooker, shreds of evidence, no leads. Under the endless mountain of unsolved murders something like this was too easy to forget. He couldn’t blame the police for being imperfect, freshly reminded of how imperfect he himself was.
Skin under fingernails, a scrap of an Oxford shirt, synthetic carpet fibers. Gray fibers like those in a car’s upholstery, one of a dozen models. No eyewitnesses. No matches on the DNA sample.
There was the sound of someone clearing their throat and he turned around; the rest of the room was empty, just West leaning in the doorway, legs crossed and his hand on his hip. He’d washed up and traded coveralls for jeans and a bomber jacket.
“Sorry, I lost track of time.”
“It can get away from you like that.” Wally didn’t seem offended, or to really think anything of being stood up. “Maybe some other time? You seem busy.”
There wasn’t much more that Dr. Adam Carter could really do. Batman could more, and quickly.
“I’m done. For now.” He put on a smile, because he needed to be more friendly in this guise. Just a little, or so he’d gauged by how the others responded to him. A smile made for smaller distances between people, which is exactly why he preferred not to. “Anywhere particular?”
“Not really. All you can eat Chinese place a couple blocks over.”
He looked hungry, and from what he’d seen, a well-stocked buffet would be the order of the day.
“Sounds good,” Adam replied enthusiastically.
Trading the lab coat for a jacket, he followed West out onto the sidewalk and down the street. He kept moving his right arm, the one closest to Adam, but keeping it ultimately in his pocket. Playing with change.
“I got here a lot. They charge me double, but hey. I get hungry.”
“Don’t we all.”
It was meant innocently, but Wally swallowed and gave him this look. Hungry.
This was going to be an uncomfortable conversation.
He waited until after they got food, sat down in a corner. The place was busy, all red walls and slightly run down. The food itself was dubious, but he didn’t think he’d actually get to eating any of it.
“We need to talk.”
Wally stopped mid-way through a bite of brown noodles, biting them off meaningfully. “That’s not good,” he said half a mouthful, swallowing the rest and coughing once. “Was it something I said? I mean, we’re not... you know.” He waved his finger back and forth between them.
“No, we’re not. It was... a mistake, and I’m sorry about that.”
“Mistake?”
“No, that’s... not what I meant.” He sighed and found it difficult to look at Wally’s big hurt eyes. Like a kicked puppy wanting to know why it was being punished. “It’s not you.”
“I’m not going to say that whole thing wasn’t totally weird, but... it was... fun.” Wally smiled like he was trying, so hard, to be placating. “No bruises left, you can check if you want.”
“I’m sorry, Wally. It can’t happen again.”
He looked crestfallen for just a second. Then he looked nonchalant, like he didn’t care. “Well, fine. If you must.”
Wally went back to his food. Adam drank three glasses of iron-tasting water.
“We can still be cool, right?”
“Of course.”
“Well, that’s something. I have this thing where... my ex’s try to, uh, kill me.”
That was in his file, but it didn’t click quite that way until Wally said it. Adam feigned surprise with a raised eyebrow. “Kill you?”
“Kidnap, kill, ritual sacrifice...” He shrugged and laughed. If Batman didn’t know better it might sound like a joke. “Well, I’m hoping that’s all behind me now.”
Wally left a sizable tip when they stood to leave, tucked among the empty plates.
Halfway down the street, a newspaper appeared in Wally’s hands, a mention of the Flash catching his attention on the front page.
“Did you pay for that?”
“Oh, sure,” he mumbled, distractedly.
Sounding like a lie.
This case was starting to leave a bad taste in his mouth.
He went back with him to the station, but left again as soon as Wally was out of sight.
His apartment was poorly secured and empty at this time of day. They were far more concerned about being bugged, it seemed.
Batman had been here a few times before, never to much success. Never finding anything, but he looked again. Through stacks of mail and magazines, books, videotapes, old newspapers, and discarded socks here and there.
The closet was a mess. There was nothing out of the ordinary until he reached the bottom of it; under clothes and boxes of legal paperwork, buried, was a false panel. It unscrewed easily.
In the hidden space was a safe.
Batman pulled it out and picked the lock in seconds, popping the lid open to reveal... money. $50,000 bundles of hundred-dollar bills.
$1,000,000 altogether, neatly stacked inside Wally’s closet, just barely fitting in the safe. There hadn’t been anything fitting a lock this size on Wally’s key ring.
A smart criminal, someone familiar with the system, would know not to spend any of it right away, to avoid it being traced.
He took a single bill with him and put everything back the way he found it.
Retrieving the data to compare the serial number to the thefts in Gotham wouldn’t take very long. He kept looking at the computer screen, pacing the room. The bill was sitting so damningly on the table, crisp, new. It was unusual that it was such an even number.
The computer beeped faintly when the file arrived.
A few keystrokes and he entered the number, pressed Return.
It was a match.
* * *
He hadn’t been in uniform during the trip to Keystone for a reason, but it was nullified by the need for more information.
Officially there were no witnesses to the girl’s abduction; Cherish Rogers. Her body was unclaimed in the morgue without family or friends that would come forward.
The name haunted him, Cherish. It ran over and over through his mind as he acquainted himself with the rooftops of the city. Finding nothing. Any witnesses were gone and Keystone didn’t give up where they might be.
Batman hadn’t expected company, but somehow, the Flash found him. Unfortunately.
He looked simply terrified.
“What are you doing here?”
“What were you doing in Gotham?”
“I... what?” Flash looked genuinely perplexed.
Batman looked at his options. If he waited, Flash could have the money on the other side of the globe and have searched the entire city for the phony apartment across the street in seconds. That’s what everyone tried to do when they got the idea Batman was on their trail; just seeing him would spook them. It usually didn’t work, but these were extra-ordinary circumstances. If Wally had something to hide.
Everything pointed to it. He had to subdue him immediately, which was a difficult proposition.
This had gone on long enough. And there was that bad taste again.
Tricking the Flash was the most reliable way to go about it, criminal or not, he was a super-hero.
Batman yelled and twisted as if he’d been shot in the shoulder, and just like any hero, Wally moved to defend him, already calculating where it must have come from, backing towards him and looking along the surroundings with blurry motions.
“Where..?”
With a tranquilizer usually reserved for Bane, Batman took advantage of his guard going down, his attention off him.
Wally cried out in startled alarm and jumped forward, barely saving himself from falling off the edge of the roof.
It hit his system quickly, and he knew it. Tried to go a few steps and whirled around when he realized he couldn’t run fast enough to escape.
“You... bastard,” he snarled, then collapsed on the tarpaper shingles.
There was a warehouse not far from here, empty and secluded enough, according to his belt’s computer. He carried Flash there quickly, not knowing how long he’d be out. His body was unusually warm, even unconscious. An amazing thing.
Using that gift to act like he was above the law.
They would talk, then Batman would decide what to do with him. He wasn’t any ordinary thief; choosing who to go to with him was something to consider, judging by what Flash had to say for himself.
Subduing Flash was one thing; keeping him subdued was quite another. He’d been captured a number of times, but only one very simple solution was immediately viable. This method had been originally designed to eventually kill him, but his knowledge of knot tying could modify that. It wouldn’t be comfortable, which he did regret, but it would keep him from hurting himself too badly in trying to escape. Or succeeding.
De-cel line absorbed enough kinetic energy to help, wound around his ankles and his knees. According to the file, it had worked with ordinary nylon rope; his powers had been significantly reduced by adulthood. Batman drew the line tight, holding Flash’s legs straight on the floor, then moved on to binding his wrists. He took the cowl off before he finished with loops around his neck that went back up again.
Wally’s body dragged slightly on the floor, then gently rose up in the air, dangling upside-down from a beam. He’d be fine if he didn’t try to escape.
His hair waved around a little as he swung and came to a stop, his mouth slightly open, his eyelids fluttering as his brain registered peril he couldn’t wake himself to do anything about.
Batman watched him, waited until his eyes flew open, flashing green in the beams of light cast over his body.
Flash began to struggle immediately, grimacing and vibrating as the motion pulled the bonds taut, cutting off his air supply. His face discolored before he relaxed and gasped, staring at Batman with outrage.
“Don’t fight. You’ll just hurt yourself.”
“Stealing tricks from... gangsters?”
“They proved it was effective.”
Wally struggled again, his body jumping and wiggling against the knots, but getting him no-where.
He relaxed again, breathing raspily as he glared at Batman.
“What were you doing in Gotham City two weeks ago?”
“I wasn’t,” spat. “Don’t go there.”
“I have you on video. On several occasions. You have some of the stolen property locked in your apartment. I think you were there.”
Wally was sweating, running down his face and beginning to bead at the tips of the hair around his forehead. He was putting incredible effort into freeing himself, but the bonds held. Simple but effective, he had to say that for those otherwise worthless gangsters. His entire body became hard to see a few times, an indistinct blur. It didn’t help him get away.
He fought, so hard, and then he slowed down, stopped. Let himself breathe. Muscles flexing, his chest pushed forward. Helpless.
“Didn’t do it,” he pleaded. Fear was coming back, replacing the initial rage. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Struggling again showed he was getting tired, even slower.
“Please stop fighting.”
He didn’t right away, of course, spurred on by it. Not for long.
Wally’s breath was fast and deep as he went limp.
For a time, there was no other sound in the cavernous space. The line had to be hurting his neck.
“That filthy bastard!” Wally’s sudden exclamation was startling; his whole demeanor changed, fire in his eyes as he struggled with newfound conviction. “Sleezy, scummy, worthless jerk!”
“Excuse me?”
“Not you.” He coughed, took a deep, ragged breath. “Let me go.”
“Who did it?”
“Reverse-Flash, Zoom. Hates me for replacing Barry. He was here, this is the kind of crap he’d pull.”
A set-up? And he’d missed it?
“Where is he now?”
“Don’t know.”
“That’s very convenient.”
“I’ll be... your prisoner. Whatever. I can help you.”
It was possible he was telling the truth. He had the most honest look on his face. And there were more comfortable ways of keeping him in one place in the cave.
Batman was relieved at the possibility he might be wrong.
It wasn’t what Wally said; it was how he said it.
“You really didn’t steal anything?”
“Listen... I don’t have a lot right now. But. I would never do that.”
Batman looked into his eyes. He was telling the truth.
“Where were you, that Thursday night, nine twenty-seven?”
“I don’t...” He closed his eyes, focused on even breaths and thought, keeping still for once. “China.”
“What?”
“Superman was helping me chase Professor Zoom, in China. Yeah. The deserty part. He got away, and we decided he’d gotten what he came for and left... didn’t say anything.”
“You were with Superman.”
“We’re not buddies... but we got close... during the race.”
The race. Of course.
He hadn’t thought anything of it. It had been some time ago, the last time those two had publicly tried to prove who was faster. With an interrupted conclusion; they’d been captured together. Briefly.
“Excuse me.”
He opened a line to Clark’s apartment through the com systems.
It rang a few times, before Clark answered it perkily. “Hello?”
“You knew he was innocent the entire time.”
Clark was laughing over the line. “Of course he was.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“He has potential. Hardly perfect, but not... if you really thought he was capable of that, you needed to see for yourself. He’s really not that bad.”
“And?”
“And the next time I ask for information, don’t keep it to yourself.”
Clark hung up.
Batman sighed.
He came in from behind Wally, who was hanging pliantly in the lines now, just trying to keep the weight off his neck, not trying to get loose.
Innocent.
Wally followed him with his eyes when he was back in his line of sight, didn’t say anything. Waiting with uncertain quiet about him. The bonds creaked as he flexed his arm and relaxed it again.
It was a weight off his mind, but he still didn’t like to admit being wrong.
He had to apologize in a meaningful way.
Batman took off his cowl, let it drape between his shoulders, and made sure Wally could see him.
“I know you’re telling me the truth.”
Wally tensed both his arms and squeezed his legs together. He didn’t wear protective gear over his groin, matters of friction he imagined. There wasn’t much to hide that the sight of Batman’s face took all the fear and anger away.
He was getting an erection. Sweating again.
“It’s you,” he whispered.
“I’m not who you think I am. There is no Adam Carter.”
“Batman,” he said, reverently, like he’d only just seen him for the first time. “You... fucked me.”
He lowered Wally down. Now he could get away if he tried hard enough. The strain was gone, the knots loose in the right places. He wasn’t trying to get away. He had that look again, gazing at Bruce’s face and through it.
“Was it just work to you?”
“No.”
“Prove it.” He stuck his cleft chin out, trying to be aggressive, but he was still shaken. There was that submissive look again.
For him.
It wasn’t the accusation he wanted righted. It was the rejection.
His body was so warm. He touched Wally’s hip, ran his hands down his thigh. His muscles moved under his fingers, flexing for him. Any chafing from the bonds seemed to have healed already.
Batman didn’t want to let him go. He wanted to keep him, make him learn to behave.
“Sexy,” Batman said, and Wally shivered, moaned softly.
“I had a fantasy like this. After I first saw you. In the cave.” Wally’s voice was so soft, just like his skin. Smooth, taken care of.
Batman took off his glove and pushed up the uniform to expose more to touch. It made Wally shiver again.
“Keep going,” Batman quietly commanded.
“You caught me in the cave. I imagined... you didn’t let me escape. I never thought about men. But you... were like a god.” He moved against the touch, a full erection now straining against the red uniform.
He’d dominated him twice over without intending to. Batman could remember when Wally was young, Kid Flash in the Batcave, knowing he wasn’t supposed to be there when he was caught. It was like a weight of guilty responsibility; Wally was confused.
“I can’t take advantage of you.”
“I’m not a kid anymore.”
He shouldn’t do this.
But he already had Wally, writhing in Batman’s black cables against the red, shiny costume. Trying to move his thighs against his groin. The bonds didn’t let him.
He’d gone too far now.
Batman rose over him, straddled his body, leaned down to kiss him. Wally turned his face up, hungry for it, pushing up aggressively. As much as the cables let him.
So willing.
“You want Batman to fuck you?” he asked, in his most serious voice. A dark place inside him was coming out, gleeful about freedom.
“For so long.”
The cape was pooling around them, Wally was covered by it, covered by him.
Batman pulled his the red pants around the knots at Wally’s knees.
He was making too much noise. Screaming demands to be touched, to be fucked, to be licked.
He got into his face and snarled. Startled, Wally shrank back.
“Be silent.”
Wally nodded, looking at him with those big, scared eyes again. Batman stared into them and rolled the top of the uniform into Wally’s armpits, exposing his belly, his waist, his chest. One hand was bare, and one still wearing the gauntlet, feeling the difference. The muted sensation through leather. He watched the eyes change, narrow, heavy-lidded.
Biting his lips to keep himself quiet. Learning to follow directions. Batman laughed, which apparently was terrifying. Wally whimpered a little and arched against his gloved hand.
“That’s better,” Batman purred, pleased.
He pulled a batarang out of his belt, didn’t let Wally see it, but the sound of it opening was unmistakable. Clean, efficient steel.
Wally gasped and jumped.
“Be still. It’s...” he cut Wally’s hip, just a little, just to show him, “it’s very sharp.”
The wound would be gone before the blood was dry. His body was so efficient like that. Wally’s chest moved up and down rapidly, but he didn’t move. The edge of the blade grazed it’s way down the exposed lengths of skin.
Suppressed shudders, breathy moans. “Very good.”
The head of Wally’s cock was wet, leaking slowly without even being touched.
He wondered how many times he could come to orgasm in a short period of time. Perhaps he could test it. For science.
Batman turned Wally over, grazed along the curves of his ass, down the insides of his thighs, scratching over such a tender surface. Wally shuddered, then Batman sliced the line between his wrists and his knees.
He picked him up and carried him to a stack of wood pallets strapped to the floor; it was sturdy, perfect to bend him over, weight on his chest. Wally turned his head to one side and looked back over his shoulder, the toes of his boots touching the floor.
Being tied together made his ankles look more shapely, his legs graceful. Like a dancer. Batman tied him down to the pallets to keep him there, winding line under his arms, over his back and through the slats. Wally squeezed his legs against the wood as Batman pulled the line tight, tied it off firmly.
Positioned so his hips could be pulled away from the wood, up on his toes with his ass in the air, flexing, Batman stepped back and just looked at him a moment. He had to work to keep on his toes like that, his legs taut and lovely.
He watched him, then settled over his body again, enjoying it there. The way his naked skin looked against the dark gray of his uniform.
Being silent didn’t appear to be something Wally was capable of. But he tried, so hard. It was so difficult for him, especially as Batman used the bare hand to stroke the tender skin of his cock. Barely brushing it, at first, bringing the thumb around first, then the palm, tugging.
Wally tried to push into his grip, so he took his hand away, squeezed his ass with the point-tipped glove. It wouldn’t draw blood, but he knew it hurt, felt how it hurt as Wally squirmed. Trying to move away, but held in place.
Batman kissed the marks after he let go, taking his time to begin touching Wally again.
Knowing better than to move, Wally ground his teeth together, kept still with visible effort. Batman licked sweat off his forehead and let him come for the first time. For a moment Wally went rigid, then weak in the knees, but he recovered quickly.
Back on his toes, hard again.
It was harder for Wally to keep still, but Batman didn’t let up, forgiving the tight squirming.
Two. Three, four, five.
The difficulty became keeping up the motion that long. His hand took different motions, twisting, pumping. At seventeen his arm was getting tired.
Wally looked exhausted, but he kept himself up, in both senses. Panting, his legs trembling.
“Feeling worn out?” Batman asked quietly.
“Yes,” Wally gasped.
“That’s unfortunate. I haven’t started yet.”
Wally moaned loudly, until he remembered to stop and shut his mouth quickly, shifted on his toes.
Batman leaned close against his body, the tied hands against his chest. “So well behaved,” he whispered. Wally’s mouth was slack, his lips red from being chewed on. His cheeks flushed, his hair lank with sweat.
He pushed back, ever so slightly, when he felt Batman’s cock against his ass. His eyelids fluttered and looked up with sex-drunk eyes.
“Batman,” Wally rasped. If he wanted to say something else, he didn’t, merely squeezed his calves tighter, arched his back down, offering himself.
There was a small bottle of lube in the belt; it was a versatile thing to keep on hand. Useful.
Batman stroked Wally’s muscled back with the gloved hand, guiding himself in with the other. Wally knew better how to relax, how to accept him, aching slow. He pushed in all the way, held still in him and helped support his legs as he took Wally’s cock back in his hand.
It had begun to flag, but jumped back to life, eager to come again. Eighteen, nineteen and twenty all rippled around Batman’s cock. He smelled sex and sweat and began to move firmly.
Wally twisted and panted, uttered a soft grunt every time Batman thrust in. His body was hot, vibrating gently.
Twenty-one, twenty-two. The most incredible feeling.
He tasted Wally’s sweat and fell into the motion like waves, had to admire his subject’s stamina.
At thirty, Wally was barely hanging on, his eyes rolled back in his head, his head thrown back as he gasped for air. This gentle whining moan of pain and pleasure and exhaustion in his throat.
Still fighting so hard to keep his position.
To please him.
Batman came, thrust in hard, arched back and dug all his fingers into Wally’s hips. Pulling him up tight, rushing with such exquisite pleasure. He savored every moment.
Wally finally collapsed against the wood. The floor beneath him was splattered with semen, his bound knees bent together as he sagged down and took the weight off his trembling calf muscles.
Cleaning up first, collecting himself, Batman took in the sight. What he’d done. So beautifully obscene with the uniform around his knees, the black cords not letting him do anything but stay where he was, used up and exhausted.
Taking a picture wasn’t necessary to ensure he’d remember. He untied Wally’s body from the slats, carefully carried him closer to the wall.
Batman sat on a pile of tarps, spread the cape underneath them, Wally draped over his lap.
The rest knots were untied one by one, the de-cel line tossed aside.
Wally took his gloves off with now free but shaking hands, rubbed his wrists and watched Batman unfold a small towel from the belt, a second one he gently used to clean Wally’s skin for him, especially gentle over his tender cock. Finally soft and sated.
He tossed it aside when he was done and tugged Wally’s uniform back into place.
“I’m so tired,” Wally sighed.
Batman began to massage Wally’s calves for him, making him moan again for another kind of appreciation. They had to be sore, aching. His legs were tense, all muscle and a pleasure just to knead.
Wally rested his head on Batman’s thigh and smiled. Almost petting the cape with his fingers.
“Pinch me,” Wally murmured. Batman obliged, which made him laugh, “I’m glad I’m not dreaming.”
Such trust. Complete, unconditional trust in him. The sex was amazing but that... that was the sweetest element of it all. Wally was falling asleep in his lap, so happy to put himself in his hands.
Batman let Wally rest there for a while, surrounded by him.
* * *
Zoom was gone, the money returned, but the stolen tech never found. Used it to vanish back to wherever he’d been hiding in the cosmic scheme of things. That element was unsatisfying.
Wally had never even known the safe was in his closet, or that the back panelling could be taken off. He had to learn to be more careful and attentive. But Flash was getting better. Reckless, impulsive... but he solved the murder of Cherish Rogers once Batman handed it over to him. He had his own informants and ways of gathering information in Keystone City. Where having former criminals as friends came in useful to him. A couple days and Wally had a suspect delivered to the authorities.
A lawyer that never meant to do it. That part was also satisfying in that Wally accomplished it expeditiously, in his own way.
Rathaway took the security off the building when Wally asked him to; presently he suspected, but wouldn’t do anything about, Batman’s replacement system. The system Wally knew about.
It didn’t take him long to find the cameras in his bedroom.
That had been three months ago.
Three months of footage, collected and encrypted in his own files.
Batman had only made it back to Keystone once since then, but he had the cameras on all the time. The motion detection system enabled Batman to watch whenever he wanted to. Watching Wally at night, pleasuring himself, or bringing home a woman. Looking straight into the camera as he fucked someone else. For him.
After a while, he’d begun to leave instructions.
As a result, Wally had a whole other use for the secret panel in the closet; a collection of sex toys. He’d used them all, every way he was asked, looking at the audience he couldn’t see.
His private repertoire could put an adult star to shame and Batman had the only copy. The distance generally suited him, but he never forgot Wally’s fantasy. About being in the cave.
Today he’d not left instructions, but an invitation.
Punctuality didn’t take Wally long to master, once he tried. Now he lived by it. Right on time.
Just as asked, he appeared in the cave, as if from thin air. Wearing just the mask, the gloves, and the boots, on the edge of the black chasm. On his hands and knees. His ankles crossed, which Batman hadn’t specified, but decided he liked. Aesthetically.
“Keep your eyes shut, but raise your head up.” He did, his back arching downward some. His neck appearing longer. “Good.”
Wally shivered, but Batman doubted it was from the cold.
He hadn’t been certain if the feeling would be the same, being together after such a disconnect. But it was as if the time had never passed.
Batman turned on the monitors, all around playing footage of Wally performing lewd acts on his bed. With audio.
The cave echoed with the sounds of sex, layers of moans, sighs, and lusty words. Wally listened, didn’t opened his eyes, but his blushed all down his body.
Flesh-toned motion glowed over the floors and walls, over Wally.
Batman took it in, heady with lust. Watched and let Wally simmer for a while, still, quiet, listening. Envisioning what was on the screens from memory.
“Do you enjoy performing for me?”
“Yes.”
Without a sound, Batman circled closer. His voice came from another place entirely.
“Good.”
Wally shivered again, shifted on his knees.
Batman moved again, closer.
“Kneel,” he commanded. Wally revealed himself as completely aroused already, pushing his hips out, showing off his erection. “Wrists behind your back.”
His gloved hands made elegant shapes, his arms twisted in place. Wally held the position, even though Batman didn’t move just yet. He’d kept his eyes shut, which was somewhat effecting his balance. Wally unsteadily sat down on his feet, the yellow soles of his boots cradling his bare ass.
It had to be testing his patience. Wally began shifting a little, wanting to move.
Batman bent down and locked black cuffs around Wally’s wrists. Cuffs strong enough to slow Superman down. Wally exhaled like he’d been holding his breath.
The cape draped around him when Batman leaned over his body, the sharp tips of his gloves swatting gently, playfully over Wally’s bare skin, teeth nibbling down his shoulders. Pushing up the edges of the mask to reach more.
“I love the way you taste,” he breathed.
Wally smiled, touched back as much as he could with his fingers, against the body armor. Not otherwise replying.
Batman wrapped his arms around his waist, pulled him to his feet, and turned them around, facing the monitors.
“Open your eyes.”
He did. His cock bobbed and he pressed back against Batman’s body.
On the center screen, Wally had a girl on top of him, riding him. His hands on her hips, her brown hair tumbling down her back as he moved her up and down. Abdomen rippling strength, toes curled. Looking directly at the camera, smiling wickedly.
Watching it, he blushed furiously, shy.
“My dirty boy. So well behaved.”
Batman pulled him to his chair, dropped him in front of it as he settled down comfortably, the cape draping around him.
He unbuckled the belt, took himself out of the protective gear and the uniform, and Wally didn’t need to be asked to get between his knees. A fast learner, he got used to the idea of sucking cock in a minute, licking enthusiastically.
The monitors still played as Wally listened and wrapped his lips up and down the shaft, vibrating his tongue. An amazing sensation he could feel down into his pelvis.
“Good,” Batman encouraged. Wally smiled through his work, his cheeks contorted by sucking. The mask gleamed faintly in the dim, moving illumination of the footage, the gold wings shining as his head bobbed up and down.
He was such a sweet indulgence.
Batman summoned willpower, made Wally work for it, learn a variety of motions with only his mouth to use. His talented mouth.
“Swallow it all,” he ordered, squeezed hard against the seat, and came. Felt Wally swallow and lick up his seed as the rush filled him.
When he looked down again, Wally was licking away the last of it, still smiling so wide there were dimples on his cheeks not noticed before, like he was entirely pleased with himself.
“Get up.”
Wally stood, laughed in surprise when Batman pulled him forward, one leg at a time over the arms of the chair. He had to squeeze them tight around it to keep from falling backwards, leaning forward over Batman’s lap.
Keeping his balance was difficult when Batman began stroking his cock, playing with it carefully with his gloves. Wally was nervous, having the claws against his fragile skin. He whimpered, breathing rapidly. Shaking when he tugged on his foreskin with the tips of the pointed fingers.
“Do you enjoy being my plaything?”
“Yes,” he answered, unhesitant but wavering. Sweating with the exertion of holding himself steady.
Batman kept him there, toyed with him until Wally’s legs began to shake.
“Ah!” Batman smacked his ass sharply, forced him to struggle not to fall forward. His whole body strained, readied to be struck again.
Wally squealed when the hand smacked him even harder, licked Batman’s cowl breathtakingly quickly between blows. Just a few his palms had itched to give him.
Batman turned him around, eased him down right onto his cock. Surprised by it, Wally gasped, jumped a little in Batman’s grip. Then he sighed, relaxed and helped ease himself down until he was sitting in Batman’s lap, squirming on his dick, squeezing around it. Spending the entire night fucking Wally was an ever more concrete plan.
He’d only just started to move when the screens flicked off the images of Wally and showed an alert in the city.
Batman pushed Wally off his lap, pulled himself back together as he read the details.
The Penguin was robbing a jewelry store downtown. He could be there in six and a half minutes, more than enough time to catch this one.
“Anything I can do?” Wally was sitting on the floor, his legs bent up casually, his thick cock laying on his belly.
“No.”
Batman paused, then picked Wally up off the floor and threw him over his shoulder. He could think of a fitting confinement for a mechanic.
There were two Batmobiles sitting beside each other in the cave; he popped up the trunk of one, designed to hold a prisoner, and gently set Wally down inside.
“I’ll be back for you soon,” he said, and shut it firmly.
Batman took the other car and left, reminded himself that Wally was the interruption here, the engines roaring as he sped towards the city. The Batmobile was not fast as Flash, but fast enough.
If Wally wanted to know his secret identity, at this point, he would tell him. If he hadn’t recognized him already. Wally knew what the real side of him was, that was what he wanted.
Batman smiled as he drove.
He had work to do, but Wally would be waiting when he was done. Laying pliantly on the cushioned upholstery, in darkness. Perhaps he was even a little scared, but Batman knew it was exactly where he’d be when he got back.
It was something he could certainly get used to.
Thanks to
wachey & counterfeitcoin. :DAny references to Adam West are entirely accidental.
A Simple Misunderstanding
Bruce/Wally, NC-17; bondage, voyeurism, explicit m/m sex, language.
10k+ words.
Batman chases down a suspect; a very fast suspect with enough clout in the superhero community that he can’t be too careful about it. When the charade turns in a direction he didn’t expect, Batman goes to great lengths of de-cel line to clear the air with the Flash.
Wally West did a poor job of keeping his secret identity a secret. That it was still unknown to the general public was something of a small miracle; there wasn’t a hint of self-control in him. He cheated on his girlfriends, he brushed off his best friends, and he seemed to have estranged himself from both of his parents.
It saddened Bruce to think that Barry had once had such pride in him, such high hopes for the future. If Wally survived much longer as the Flash, in any sense, that would be another miracle in and of itself.
Barry’s memory, and the knowledge that Dick would never forgive him for mishandling this case made Batman cautious.
Someone had been moving at the Flash’s speed, wearing the Flash’s costume, just barely caught on a security camera in Gotham City. Stealing money and technology that could be used in remaking a Cosmic Treadmill. Not that he thought West had the technical expertise to do such a thing, and he was under the impression that the original model in the Flash Museum was intact.
Even so.
West had recently become bankrupt, going from a mansion to a cramped apartment. Everything was pointing at him as the culprit.
Means, motive, and opportunity. But the mask on the costume meant he had doubts to clear up before he could make any sort of official move; he couldn’t afford to be wrong about this. The images weren’t clear enough to determine who’s face was behind it.
Barry’s name still carried a heavy weight in the circles, one that he’d have difficulty with for a long time if he seemingly trying to tarnish it wrongfully. In all truth, he didn’t want to think his protoge` had gone down the wrong path; Barry had been one of the best. Still sorely missed. It was risk enough that he needed a second opinion. A subjective but honest opinion that was from an excellent judge of character. Someone trustworthy.
Batman looked up into the sky and restrained a smirk as Superman gracefully landed beside him on the rooftop.
“Hello, Bruce,” he said, still enjoying that he could taunt him with knowing his secret. “What do you need?”
“I suspect that the Flash may be participating in criminal activity,” he said bluntly, handing over a hard copy of his evidence. “Unless that was you in his uniform.”
There was always the unlikely possibility, but Clark’s face was bad at lying, regardless of how he had others fooled. “No, I remember where I was at this time stamp. China.” He seemed unwilling to give an opinion right away, reading through the folder quickly but carefully in a few moments.
He handed it back when he was done, with a serious look, something clearly worrying him. “Wally didn’t take Barry’s death well,” he said ominously. “I haven’t seen him much in the last few years.”
“I doesn’t appear that anyone has, outside his circle of civilian friends and family. And might I point out who that includes. Hartley Rathaway. Jerry McGee. Chester Runk. All had stints as super-criminals. And he’s been seen socially with Barry’s old Rogues, supposedly reformed or not, publicly and privately.”
“It’s not a crime to give someone a second chance,” Superman interjected.
“The evidence points otherwise. But I’ll need another way to catch him. He’s impossible to track.”
“I assume you’ve tried your toys?”
“He searches the uniform before he stores them. And Rathaway has surprisingly sophisticated communication interference in the entire apartment building.”
Superman chuckled and Bruce bristled. He didn’t like being outdone by a former criminal and a hack, but he hated that Clark enjoyed it when he couldn’t do everything. Just as much as the reverse was true, he had to admit, and shrug it off.
“You should get to know him,” Superman said. “Before you do anything else. Here... take the cowl off.”
Batman looked around, but they were alone, high up. He did it reluctantly, surprised as Clark took a pair of glasses hidden in his cape and slid them on Bruce’s face. “If it works for me...”
They were a terrible prescription, surprisingly strong, but that was easily fixed. It was a good idea; go undercover and see for himself.
It would also be excellent practice. He’d have to make up some paperwork, create a name, find a way into the Keystone P.D. to get close to him on a daily basis. Pull off a disguise on a semi long-term basis. Practice. And caution.
“I’ll let you know what I find,” Bruce said, nodding.
“Please. Is that all?”
“Yes.” He tucked the file away and watched Superman smile and take off. Flying towards the moon, becoming a dark spot and finally vanishing from sight.
‘No,’ he might have said, plucked Superman from the sky for a while to find out more about what was inside the man. That would admit to being fascinated.
Right now, he had someone else to become focused on.
Bruce pulled the car up on the other side of the road, parked just for a moment. He’d meant just for a drive-by to get a feeling for West’s neighborhood, but was getting an eyeful of a whole lot more.
West was wearing the tiniest cut-off denim shorts Bruce had ever seen on anyone outside a strip club or a brothel, bending over to lift boxes. He carried an unsurprisingly heavy amount fairly easily, in a tank top that exposed most of his belly and pink sneakers.
Which was not to say he didn’t have the body to pull that off. Because he did.
It wasn’t long before he came back outside for another load, becoming distracted by woman Bruce recognized as another tenant, an older black woman that aged well. Wally had his hands on his hips and flirting as he was pulling off what might have been a parody of a gay man if not for the unreal outfit he was wearing. By the reactions of the others, this was nothing out of the ordinary.
Interesting.
Bruce took a few pictures, discreetly, and left.
It seemed fitting to have an apartment overlooking West’s. Remote surveillance with technology didn’t work, and wouldn’t without interference Rathaway would notice, which left the old-fashioned way. There were an abundance of empty places with the right view available, high turnover rates of tenants all through this part of town.
He installed black curtains, his equipment, and was sure to furnish enough that it was a normal enough apartment, if sparse. For the benefit of the delivery boys.
Tomorrow he’d be starting a position at the crime lab as Dr. Adam Carter, forensic scientist from New York. West was a mechanic in their garage, but all vehicles would be taken there for work. A suitably big job could get a good deal of contact for a week.
Bruce turned off the lights. There were no curtains on the windows he was looking into, West’s apartment cluttered but nearly as sparse as this one. Through the scope, he saw him going in and out of the kitchen in a blur. Piper was there in the living room, talking about the mechanical details of a device they’d used, but West didn’t seem to be listening.
Still wearing that ridiculous outfit.
Piper didn’t seem to mind all the exposure of Wally’s legs. He was now barefoot when he came into sight, his package just barely staying inside the tiny shorts. In fact, Piper was staring at exactly that, but Flash loved any attention he could get. Apparently still oblivious to Rathaway’s sexual preference, all the while.
Or he was an accomplished tease.
He seemed still oblivious to the sexual attention as he finished cooking, flopping down on the couch with a pile of sandwiches. Rathaway ate one, West had about fifteen, and they talked about Cathrine. One of his ex-girlfriends.
Bruce knew the way to get close to West, and quickly. He decided that was enough for one night and opened his laptop to catch up on events in Gotham.
Dr. Carter’s car was a mess. He made sure of it, following behind into the garage with all the frustration he could muster about it.
West was in gray overalls, grease on his cheek and goggles up in his wild red hair. Rubbing his hands in a rag, he strolled up to him casually. “You must be new around here,” he greeted. “If you’re another stuck-up suit I might have to kick you out,” he continued with a grin.
“I don’t think so,” he replied, offering his hand. West seemed amused by that, but shook it, and left traces of grease on his hand. “That’s a firm handshake,” he said, looking West over meaningfully.
“Thank you.” West clearly enjoyed flirting back, a sultry look in his eyes.
Obviously he wasn’t serious, Bruce could tell. He was flirting because he didn’t know how else to react.
This would require... a different approach. More direct.
He picked a sizable torque wrench up off a bench, moved it with a sound of metal. Making sure it captured West’s attention before he stroked the cool length of it meaningfully. It captivated his attention for a moment, green eyes flickering with more feelings than he could quite follow.
“Are you seeing anyone?” Adam asked, nonchalantly.
“Not really. I mean, well... no. Not really.” He looked a little worried. “Are you?”
“Not for some time. The right man keeps escaping me.” Adam grinned, enjoying himself, and Wally’s discomfort, a little more than he’d expected.
“That’s a shame.” West backed into a rack of tools, visibly suppressing the desire to catch more than one of them before they fell. Moving a little too fast, even so. Most of them rang on the floor.
“Nice reflexes.”
“Ha! Right, thank you, yes.”
The aggressive, carefree exterior was melting away. West was gravitating toward him uncertainly, as if worried he might be being toyed with. If only he knew.
“Take good care of her,” Adam said. “When should I come back?”
“Tonight, come back tonight.”
He made sure the garage was empty when he met West there, just him and the car.
“Hey! I’ve been on this baby for hours, and listen. It’s going to be a while before she’s running again. What did you do?”
“It was an accident.”
Bruce stepped forward, as Adam Carter, a stranger in a dress shirt and tie, Clark’s wire-rimmed glasses, and the sense of detachment from himself as he became the character. Forward, and clearly interested in Mr. West. He reintroduced himself.
“West?” he read off the overalls, getting closer to him.
“Wally West, nice to meet you.” He was nervous now, hiding it with a toothy smile.
“I’m not scary,” Adam laughed, put his hands in the air.
“I’m not afraid of you! That’s, that’s silly, see, why would I?” He laughed in a clearly nervous fashion and tried redirecting attention to the car.
Adam didn’t listen, but took the opportunity to get closer. Wally didn’t even react, at first, when he put his hand on his hip.
“I don’t mean to be forward. But you’re... so sexy. And I think you like me.”
“Yeah.”
Just like his file said he would, West was easily subdued by sexual advances. Even from a perfect stranger. Especially from a stranger. He was breathing quickly, sweating a little, aroused. He’d been still uncertain as to how he’d react to a man’s forward advances, but it seemed to be the same idea.
He was powerful enough to get Adam off him if he tried at all. West put his hand over his like he might, but pressed a little closer.
“A garage is a weird place to try and pick guys up.”
“I’m new in town, you’ll have to show me how it works.”
In that moment, Bruce decided he might be crossing a line. Wally kissed him with genuine enthusiasm, quickly and uncertainly. Impulsive. Terrified to desire in thirty seconds, enough that Bruce was taken aback.
It wasn’t supposed to go this far.
“I’ve never made out with a dude before. That’s so weird.”
“You still haven’t.” He shook himself back into character, touched Wally’s face.
Wally was giving him a beseeching look that begged to be told what to do next, how he should be responding. That he didn’t know what to do. It was adorable.
“I’ll check in tomorrow morning,” Adam said.
Adam left, but Bruce didn’t.
He watched through a camera in the car, Wally watching after him. Sinking against the side of the car, unzipping his coveralls.
Hard, exposing himself in what he thought to be unseen privacy. He spoke as he began stroking himself, and Bruce read his lips; ‘big hard cock.’ A blur and he came, slamming his head against the car window, but it didn’t seem to hurt.
Sweat glistened on his face in a second of rapture. He looked tenderly innocent, in the way most do in sleep, he was in pleasure.
Perhaps this was the wrong way to go about this, because it was proving so effective. He hadn’t known for sure, Wally might have been straight as an arrow; and it seemed Wally hadn’t known, either.
Another few days and West would be eating out of his hand.
West spent time pleasuring himself in his bed every day and night now; it was true, there were no female visits for two days. No girlfriend at present. No overtly suspicious activity, either.
At the moment, Rathaway was waiting in his living room with Mason Trollbridge, watching television while their host was getting off in the other room. Biting his fingers to silence himself as he came.
He would usually only take a few seconds to do it, cleaning up and collecting himself in even less. It was... amazing. A blur, tense, release.
Bruce took another bite of pizza and watched him put a pair of running shorts on before walking back into the living room like nothing had happened, not gone long enough to be suspicious.
West left several times while his guests were still there, gone in a red blur, back with a quip about needing groceries or stopping a crime.
The Keystone systems weren’t as open to Batman as they were in Gotham, but enough that he could see security footage from all over the city. West didn’t always go where he said he was to his friends. Even lip-reading from this distance, Batman knew he was lying.
Adam kept himself more distant the next few times they met. The lab work kept him at arm’s length but West’s actions and record easy to access.
West gave him this look like he wanted to ask him something he was afraid to, hiding what was likely abandonment under a harsh exterior. Making fun of Adam’s clothes. Bruce might have had something to say about that, but it would show his hand.
It became apparent that West was going to great lengths to be alone when Adam came by, and he was always jittery around him.
Bruce couldn’t find anything without getting closer. He also didn’t have the time to prolong this exercise.
West was leaning inside the open hood, pointing out the spark plugs he’d replaced that day. Adam still wasn’t interested in the car, watching him over the edges of the glasses.
It took a moment for West to notice, turn and look up at him. Lips slightly parted, that sort of surprised look in his eyes.
“I’m getting off in a half-hour,” Wally said lightly.
“I’ll make sure you do.”
Just that quickly, just that easily, Wally was telling him where he lived. Like a promise to spill out anything else he wanted to know.
“I’ll be there,” Adam promised. “Seven o’clock.”
“Okay.”
It gave Batman an hour to prepare.
He put on an undershirt to hide most of the obvious scars, reservations and all.
It was only sex.
At six-thirty, Wally got home. Paced around his apartment, cleaning up in something of a panicked frenzy. He wore twelve different outfits before settling on something remarkably reserved, a simple button-up shirt tucked into slacks.
Batman watched him and imagined taking off those clothes again. Having his way.
West was turned on by Adam’s dominance and Batman could give him that.
Exactly on time, Adam knocked on the door, to have it open almost immediately. West looked downright petrified, but those trousers did nothing to hide his feelings.
“H-hi.”
“West,” Adam drawled, pushing into the room. Shutting the door after it became apparent Wally wasn’t going to do it. “What’s that cologne you’re wearing?”
It was liberating to smile, follow spontaneous desires. He’d been one of Dick’s best friends as a kid, he might be crossing the line of the law. Batman reminded him that Bruce wasn’t really here.
“It’s, uh, I don’t remember.” It was if he was asking for Adam to move over, stand over him, breathe in his scent. Calvin Klein. “Do you... want anything?”
Where was that confidant show-off now?
“You.” Adam grabbed Wally’s arm, brought him against his body. The erection was unmistakable now.
Wally pulled him into the bedroom, candles already lit on the dresser that made Bruce chuckle.
“What?”
“Are you romancing me?”
“I just... thought...”
“I like it.” Adam kissed him gently, firmly. “Now take your clothes off. For me.”
Suddenly Batman was the only audience there, as Wally obeyed him, left him in the shadows, played to them with his smile.
To Wally, he was just a stranger with an intriguing proposition. He loved it.
The shirt came off first, button by button, Wally making dramatic sound effects that would have sounded silly from anyone else. He didn’t do anything quietly.
“Why me?” Wally asked, up on his knees, opening his fly. “I’m not gay.”
“Neither am I.”
“You were looking for a man, that’s pretty...”
“Not just any man. I was looking for you.”
Wally laughed and didn’t seem to believe a word of it, or care. Batman stood there as he took off his pants. No underwear.
“I like skipping to the good parts,” Wally said like a confession, sinking down on his knees with his cock in his hands. Touching it tenderly, in a way that made Batman sure he’d named it something juvenile. Like ‘Big Daddy’ or ‘The Hammer.’ He trimmed his pubic hair, which was an electric shade of red that put the hair on his head to shame.
Neat around his navel. He shaved his balls, enjoyed touching them for his guest. Batman imagined how they felt, soft, fragile, and gripped his fingers.
Wally loved his own body and didn’t make it a secret. He spread his legs, traced the lines of his muscles, worshipping and watching himself.
An exhibitionist. That wasn’t surprising.
“Lay back on the bed, so I can see you.”
Wally laughed while he did, wiggling a little as he got comfortable, his legs wide, cupping himself.
There was generally nothing of particular appeal about another man’s genitalia. Something about the grooming, Wally’s own seeming affection for it, made this different. The thick erection was desire for him.
“I’m sure you have lotion by the bed. Get it.”
Wally had it on the floor, on the other side of the bed. That he did embarrassed him, a blush that went all over his skin. He had a freckle on the inside of his left thigh.
“Now, spread it on your fingers. And fuck yourself.”
“You... dirty man.” Wally seemed to think the idea was foolish, unless one was looking at how his cock bobbed, he squeezed his hips. His hands were shaking as he couldn’t obey fast enough.
Or maybe this all seemed like an eternity to him. Batman wasn’t sure how his powers worked passively, but something in Wally’s eyes was looking at something that Batman couldn’t see.
Wally’s fingers pushed inside himself, his hips raised, pushing against his curved hand. He wasn’t sure how to go about it at first, but didn’t take long to decide he liked the feeling. Deeper, he moaned, curled so he could push even deeper. His fingers made wet sounds as he kept going.
“Stop.”
“Oh man.” Wally pulled his hand back, cleaned it off with a tissue and caught his breath, his chest moving up and down. “Are you just going to watch?” He rolled his head to face the figure in the shadows.
“Keep touching yourself.”
Wally shook his head, closed his eyes, and his hips rose up again to meet his hand.
“Touch me,” he softly begged, pulling on his erection, such aching slowness absent from when he was alone. “Please.”
“Faster,” was all he replied.
“Why am I doing this?” Wally asked himself as his hand moved just a little too fast for a normal human. He squeezed his pelvic muscles and his back arched as he moaned and came in his hand, semen splashing on his belly like a deliciously obscene exclamation point.
Batman didn’t just want to touch him. He wanted to taste him, consume him.
Wally caught just a few breaths before Adam was on top of him, holding his loose body down. He touched the wetness on Wally’s belly and licked his fingers. It made Wally hard again, almost instantly.
Putty in his hands. He practically begged Adam to fuck him, a breathy whine in his voice as he squeezed against him, wrapping his legs around him.
“Have you been a naughty boy, Wally?” He lifted up Wally’s hips and slapped his ass hard enough to hurt. Wally jerked against him and let out a sound of surprise. So he hit him again.
“Yes!” Wally screamed. “Oh, I’m such a bad boy!”
“What have you done?”
Another blow, another. Wally was squirming against him and crying out, but not telling him to stop.
“I, oh! I lie all the time, to everyone, I even lied to you when I said I wasn’t scared, oh! You’re so scary!”
“What else?”
“I cheated my way through college! Oh! I stole my breakfast this morning! I didn’t have any money and I was hungry!” Batman hit him harder, his ass turning bright red. He gripped that cheek and moved to the other one. “Ah! It hurts!”
“What else?”
Wally moaned and thrust against him, trying not to, but he came again. Twice. Batman didn’t let go, and he didn’t seem to be done yet. There would be stains on this shirt and he was still hard. The palm fell again sharply on his ass. Wally jumped and squirmed. “I cheated on my taxes! Oh God I forgot my mom’s birthday last year!”
This could go on for hours.
Batman was too wound, even his self-control had limits and Wally was almost reduced to incoherent babbling. He spouted confessions about swearing in front of children and blowing off his friends as his other cheek turned a matching crimson shade going towards purple.
“Please fuck me! Oh please!”
He threw Wally down on the bed, where he writhed and touched himself, grinding against the covers. Batman kept his clothes on, soiled or not, just took his erection out of his pants.
The sight of it made Wally spread his legs, uncertainly trying to accommodate him, anything he wanted.
Wally’s groin was wet with sex and glistened. Batman leaned down, licked his balls, tongued the thick, salty taste, heard Wally begging without coherent words. He had to be sensitive, tender now, moving and reacting so acutely to the motions of his lips.
“Adam,” Wally moaned, and it was so wrong, but he didn’t correct him.
He knew Wally’s body couldn’t retain any disease short of something specifically engineered, wanted to feel this, and took the small risk of going without the condoms he’d brought with him. Anything that could infect a hyper-accellerated metabolism would get half the planet in a week.
The lotion was still laying on the bed and Batman lathered it on himself, with more strokes than were necessary, holding up Wally’s leg, holding him open. So open.
Wally had never done this before. So he’d said, so he believed, with an almost virginal look in his eyes as Batman held him and thrust inside.
Trust.
“Oh my God,” Wally moaned, tearing at the covers with his fingers, his back arching up from the bed.
His hands moved up to the headboard as the strokes began, gradual, meaningful thrusts that were driving both of them crazy. Driving Batman harder into him, until the bed was thumping against the wall.
It had been a long time, longer than he’d care to admit, since he’d been with anyone. Seen his cock entering someone, taking them, making them scream in pleasure.
Far too long.
He had his fill of Wally’s taut ass and smacked it again forcefully as he came, long and satisfying.
Wally also seemed to be finally satisfied, smiling sleepily, laying where he’d fallen, legs bent out and his arms loose beside his head.
“That was great,” he murmured, with a silly lop-sided smile.
Worn out, at least for the moment, there was something so tender again on his face, so... alluring.
This shouldn’t have gone so far.
Batman touched his cheek and watched him smile in response.
“I have to go.”
“Don’t have to.”
“I... have work to do.”
“‘Kay.”
After he was sure Wally was asleep, Batman did a cursory sweep of the room, searched his pockets. Nothing more incriminating than candy bar wrappers and a small stack of pornography under the bed. $4.35 in his wallet.
On the way out, he took off the semen-stained shirt, walking back to his own rented room with just the undershirt on.
In the short distance he was unseen, avoided anyone easily enough.
He went back to his room, showered, and went back to watching the still form, one eye on Gotham.
Wally kept sleeping for a few hours, waking up later that night slow and drowsy. He reached above his head, yawning widely as he stretched, scratching himself on the way back down in a lazy way.
Bruce sighed, stepped back from the window and took another shower. A cold one.
He could have learned more by staying. Wally had no idea who he really was... so why did he suddenly seem so dangerous?
Watching the cocky look melt off Wally’s face into timid submission became a familiar sight; it happened whenever Adam walked into the garage to look in on his car.
The repair work was never done, he made sure of that. Wally worked endlessly and couldn’t understand why new problems kept arising before he’d even had things nailed down... but if he was frustrated, he never showed it to Adam. Privately, he’s scream and throw a fit over it, but when Adam walked in... he look weak in the knees, had apologized a thousand times for something that wasn’t his fault. It would be irritating if it wasn’t so damned endearing.
It had been another two days of watching Wally touch himself constantly, and only the most professional behavior at work. His behavior had been completely unprofessional, and he’d hoped that, perhaps, he could redeem himself in his mind. Apparently not.
Distance kept him even.
Dr. Carter’s lab work was complimented, but he wasn’t interested in it. Went through the job, the cover, like going through familiar motions. Smiling when he was supposed to, nodding, returning to the analysis.
This what what was interesting; watching Wally interact with his co-workers. He’d keep a face of just the measure of seriousness a place like a garage required. Being ‘one of the boys’ was hardly unfamiliar to him. Not so much an act as a different part of himself he embraced, just as crass and inappropriate as he was honest and well-liked for the most part. Blunt honesty.
At the moment, Wally was trying to recover from a just-too-detailed admiration for their boss’s wife’s breasts. Nobody had noticed Adam there yet, shaking their heads in disbelief.
“What?” Wally held his hands out helplessly. “I’m just saying.” He tossed his head proudly and rolled his eyes. “You’re all just jealous.”
“Of you?” one laughed, “I don’t think so.”
“Dating one model doesn’t make you Casanova.”
It seemed to Bruce a good deal of them were jealous. There was a snicker of “dog food commercials” a they moved around again in their work, the conversation trailing off and firmly ending when Adam made his presence known.
“How is she?”
Wally beamed up at him. “I fixed the brakes. Again. And that problem with the spark plugs. Again. But I’m getting somewhere, right?”
“I hope so.”
“Never had so much trouble. With a car.” He leaned against it, up on a lift, casual but just shaky enough to need to shift around a little, closer to Adam. “Had lunch yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Do you... want to?”
“Alright.” He didn’t let on anything, treated West like any other acquaintance.
West didn’t seem to mind, jittery, yes, but he had an ego the size of a planet. Such a thing goes a long way towards a confidant exterior. He wasn’t exactly smiling anymore as he gestured toward the car with a wrench. Wearing worn work gloves with the wrists rolled down, so smooth skin was visible in a glimpse. White skin, impossibly soft, he knew that from vivid memory.
Self-control. Willpower. He wouldn’t let himself indulge in West again.
But there were still things he had to know.
The lab work had been so routine it didn’t fit into anything other than spaces of time.
Then a case fell in his lap, a case he knew the police would never solve. Dead hooker, shreds of evidence, no leads. Under the endless mountain of unsolved murders something like this was too easy to forget. He couldn’t blame the police for being imperfect, freshly reminded of how imperfect he himself was.
Skin under fingernails, a scrap of an Oxford shirt, synthetic carpet fibers. Gray fibers like those in a car’s upholstery, one of a dozen models. No eyewitnesses. No matches on the DNA sample.
There was the sound of someone clearing their throat and he turned around; the rest of the room was empty, just West leaning in the doorway, legs crossed and his hand on his hip. He’d washed up and traded coveralls for jeans and a bomber jacket.
“Sorry, I lost track of time.”
“It can get away from you like that.” Wally didn’t seem offended, or to really think anything of being stood up. “Maybe some other time? You seem busy.”
There wasn’t much more that Dr. Adam Carter could really do. Batman could more, and quickly.
“I’m done. For now.” He put on a smile, because he needed to be more friendly in this guise. Just a little, or so he’d gauged by how the others responded to him. A smile made for smaller distances between people, which is exactly why he preferred not to. “Anywhere particular?”
“Not really. All you can eat Chinese place a couple blocks over.”
He looked hungry, and from what he’d seen, a well-stocked buffet would be the order of the day.
“Sounds good,” Adam replied enthusiastically.
Trading the lab coat for a jacket, he followed West out onto the sidewalk and down the street. He kept moving his right arm, the one closest to Adam, but keeping it ultimately in his pocket. Playing with change.
“I got here a lot. They charge me double, but hey. I get hungry.”
“Don’t we all.”
It was meant innocently, but Wally swallowed and gave him this look. Hungry.
This was going to be an uncomfortable conversation.
He waited until after they got food, sat down in a corner. The place was busy, all red walls and slightly run down. The food itself was dubious, but he didn’t think he’d actually get to eating any of it.
“We need to talk.”
Wally stopped mid-way through a bite of brown noodles, biting them off meaningfully. “That’s not good,” he said half a mouthful, swallowing the rest and coughing once. “Was it something I said? I mean, we’re not... you know.” He waved his finger back and forth between them.
“No, we’re not. It was... a mistake, and I’m sorry about that.”
“Mistake?”
“No, that’s... not what I meant.” He sighed and found it difficult to look at Wally’s big hurt eyes. Like a kicked puppy wanting to know why it was being punished. “It’s not you.”
“I’m not going to say that whole thing wasn’t totally weird, but... it was... fun.” Wally smiled like he was trying, so hard, to be placating. “No bruises left, you can check if you want.”
“I’m sorry, Wally. It can’t happen again.”
He looked crestfallen for just a second. Then he looked nonchalant, like he didn’t care. “Well, fine. If you must.”
Wally went back to his food. Adam drank three glasses of iron-tasting water.
“We can still be cool, right?”
“Of course.”
“Well, that’s something. I have this thing where... my ex’s try to, uh, kill me.”
That was in his file, but it didn’t click quite that way until Wally said it. Adam feigned surprise with a raised eyebrow. “Kill you?”
“Kidnap, kill, ritual sacrifice...” He shrugged and laughed. If Batman didn’t know better it might sound like a joke. “Well, I’m hoping that’s all behind me now.”
Wally left a sizable tip when they stood to leave, tucked among the empty plates.
Halfway down the street, a newspaper appeared in Wally’s hands, a mention of the Flash catching his attention on the front page.
“Did you pay for that?”
“Oh, sure,” he mumbled, distractedly.
Sounding like a lie.
This case was starting to leave a bad taste in his mouth.
He went back with him to the station, but left again as soon as Wally was out of sight.
His apartment was poorly secured and empty at this time of day. They were far more concerned about being bugged, it seemed.
Batman had been here a few times before, never to much success. Never finding anything, but he looked again. Through stacks of mail and magazines, books, videotapes, old newspapers, and discarded socks here and there.
The closet was a mess. There was nothing out of the ordinary until he reached the bottom of it; under clothes and boxes of legal paperwork, buried, was a false panel. It unscrewed easily.
In the hidden space was a safe.
Batman pulled it out and picked the lock in seconds, popping the lid open to reveal... money. $50,000 bundles of hundred-dollar bills.
$1,000,000 altogether, neatly stacked inside Wally’s closet, just barely fitting in the safe. There hadn’t been anything fitting a lock this size on Wally’s key ring.
A smart criminal, someone familiar with the system, would know not to spend any of it right away, to avoid it being traced.
He took a single bill with him and put everything back the way he found it.
Retrieving the data to compare the serial number to the thefts in Gotham wouldn’t take very long. He kept looking at the computer screen, pacing the room. The bill was sitting so damningly on the table, crisp, new. It was unusual that it was such an even number.
The computer beeped faintly when the file arrived.
A few keystrokes and he entered the number, pressed Return.
It was a match.
He hadn’t been in uniform during the trip to Keystone for a reason, but it was nullified by the need for more information.
Officially there were no witnesses to the girl’s abduction; Cherish Rogers. Her body was unclaimed in the morgue without family or friends that would come forward.
The name haunted him, Cherish. It ran over and over through his mind as he acquainted himself with the rooftops of the city. Finding nothing. Any witnesses were gone and Keystone didn’t give up where they might be.
Batman hadn’t expected company, but somehow, the Flash found him. Unfortunately.
He looked simply terrified.
“What are you doing here?”
“What were you doing in Gotham?”
“I... what?” Flash looked genuinely perplexed.
Batman looked at his options. If he waited, Flash could have the money on the other side of the globe and have searched the entire city for the phony apartment across the street in seconds. That’s what everyone tried to do when they got the idea Batman was on their trail; just seeing him would spook them. It usually didn’t work, but these were extra-ordinary circumstances. If Wally had something to hide.
Everything pointed to it. He had to subdue him immediately, which was a difficult proposition.
This had gone on long enough. And there was that bad taste again.
Tricking the Flash was the most reliable way to go about it, criminal or not, he was a super-hero.
Batman yelled and twisted as if he’d been shot in the shoulder, and just like any hero, Wally moved to defend him, already calculating where it must have come from, backing towards him and looking along the surroundings with blurry motions.
“Where..?”
With a tranquilizer usually reserved for Bane, Batman took advantage of his guard going down, his attention off him.
Wally cried out in startled alarm and jumped forward, barely saving himself from falling off the edge of the roof.
It hit his system quickly, and he knew it. Tried to go a few steps and whirled around when he realized he couldn’t run fast enough to escape.
“You... bastard,” he snarled, then collapsed on the tarpaper shingles.
There was a warehouse not far from here, empty and secluded enough, according to his belt’s computer. He carried Flash there quickly, not knowing how long he’d be out. His body was unusually warm, even unconscious. An amazing thing.
Using that gift to act like he was above the law.
They would talk, then Batman would decide what to do with him. He wasn’t any ordinary thief; choosing who to go to with him was something to consider, judging by what Flash had to say for himself.
Subduing Flash was one thing; keeping him subdued was quite another. He’d been captured a number of times, but only one very simple solution was immediately viable. This method had been originally designed to eventually kill him, but his knowledge of knot tying could modify that. It wouldn’t be comfortable, which he did regret, but it would keep him from hurting himself too badly in trying to escape. Or succeeding.
De-cel line absorbed enough kinetic energy to help, wound around his ankles and his knees. According to the file, it had worked with ordinary nylon rope; his powers had been significantly reduced by adulthood. Batman drew the line tight, holding Flash’s legs straight on the floor, then moved on to binding his wrists. He took the cowl off before he finished with loops around his neck that went back up again.
Wally’s body dragged slightly on the floor, then gently rose up in the air, dangling upside-down from a beam. He’d be fine if he didn’t try to escape.
His hair waved around a little as he swung and came to a stop, his mouth slightly open, his eyelids fluttering as his brain registered peril he couldn’t wake himself to do anything about.
Batman watched him, waited until his eyes flew open, flashing green in the beams of light cast over his body.
Flash began to struggle immediately, grimacing and vibrating as the motion pulled the bonds taut, cutting off his air supply. His face discolored before he relaxed and gasped, staring at Batman with outrage.
“Don’t fight. You’ll just hurt yourself.”
“Stealing tricks from... gangsters?”
“They proved it was effective.”
Wally struggled again, his body jumping and wiggling against the knots, but getting him no-where.
He relaxed again, breathing raspily as he glared at Batman.
“What were you doing in Gotham City two weeks ago?”
“I wasn’t,” spat. “Don’t go there.”
“I have you on video. On several occasions. You have some of the stolen property locked in your apartment. I think you were there.”
Wally was sweating, running down his face and beginning to bead at the tips of the hair around his forehead. He was putting incredible effort into freeing himself, but the bonds held. Simple but effective, he had to say that for those otherwise worthless gangsters. His entire body became hard to see a few times, an indistinct blur. It didn’t help him get away.
He fought, so hard, and then he slowed down, stopped. Let himself breathe. Muscles flexing, his chest pushed forward. Helpless.
“Didn’t do it,” he pleaded. Fear was coming back, replacing the initial rage. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Struggling again showed he was getting tired, even slower.
“Please stop fighting.”
He didn’t right away, of course, spurred on by it. Not for long.
Wally’s breath was fast and deep as he went limp.
For a time, there was no other sound in the cavernous space. The line had to be hurting his neck.
“That filthy bastard!” Wally’s sudden exclamation was startling; his whole demeanor changed, fire in his eyes as he struggled with newfound conviction. “Sleezy, scummy, worthless jerk!”
“Excuse me?”
“Not you.” He coughed, took a deep, ragged breath. “Let me go.”
“Who did it?”
“Reverse-Flash, Zoom. Hates me for replacing Barry. He was here, this is the kind of crap he’d pull.”
A set-up? And he’d missed it?
“Where is he now?”
“Don’t know.”
“That’s very convenient.”
“I’ll be... your prisoner. Whatever. I can help you.”
It was possible he was telling the truth. He had the most honest look on his face. And there were more comfortable ways of keeping him in one place in the cave.
Batman was relieved at the possibility he might be wrong.
It wasn’t what Wally said; it was how he said it.
“You really didn’t steal anything?”
“Listen... I don’t have a lot right now. But. I would never do that.”
Batman looked into his eyes. He was telling the truth.
“Where were you, that Thursday night, nine twenty-seven?”
“I don’t...” He closed his eyes, focused on even breaths and thought, keeping still for once. “China.”
“What?”
“Superman was helping me chase Professor Zoom, in China. Yeah. The deserty part. He got away, and we decided he’d gotten what he came for and left... didn’t say anything.”
“You were with Superman.”
“We’re not buddies... but we got close... during the race.”
The race. Of course.
He hadn’t thought anything of it. It had been some time ago, the last time those two had publicly tried to prove who was faster. With an interrupted conclusion; they’d been captured together. Briefly.
“Excuse me.”
He opened a line to Clark’s apartment through the com systems.
It rang a few times, before Clark answered it perkily. “Hello?”
“You knew he was innocent the entire time.”
Clark was laughing over the line. “Of course he was.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“He has potential. Hardly perfect, but not... if you really thought he was capable of that, you needed to see for yourself. He’s really not that bad.”
“And?”
“And the next time I ask for information, don’t keep it to yourself.”
Clark hung up.
Batman sighed.
He came in from behind Wally, who was hanging pliantly in the lines now, just trying to keep the weight off his neck, not trying to get loose.
Innocent.
Wally followed him with his eyes when he was back in his line of sight, didn’t say anything. Waiting with uncertain quiet about him. The bonds creaked as he flexed his arm and relaxed it again.
It was a weight off his mind, but he still didn’t like to admit being wrong.
He had to apologize in a meaningful way.
Batman took off his cowl, let it drape between his shoulders, and made sure Wally could see him.
“I know you’re telling me the truth.”
Wally tensed both his arms and squeezed his legs together. He didn’t wear protective gear over his groin, matters of friction he imagined. There wasn’t much to hide that the sight of Batman’s face took all the fear and anger away.
He was getting an erection. Sweating again.
“It’s you,” he whispered.
“I’m not who you think I am. There is no Adam Carter.”
“Batman,” he said, reverently, like he’d only just seen him for the first time. “You... fucked me.”
He lowered Wally down. Now he could get away if he tried hard enough. The strain was gone, the knots loose in the right places. He wasn’t trying to get away. He had that look again, gazing at Bruce’s face and through it.
“Was it just work to you?”
“No.”
“Prove it.” He stuck his cleft chin out, trying to be aggressive, but he was still shaken. There was that submissive look again.
For him.
It wasn’t the accusation he wanted righted. It was the rejection.
His body was so warm. He touched Wally’s hip, ran his hands down his thigh. His muscles moved under his fingers, flexing for him. Any chafing from the bonds seemed to have healed already.
Batman didn’t want to let him go. He wanted to keep him, make him learn to behave.
“Sexy,” Batman said, and Wally shivered, moaned softly.
“I had a fantasy like this. After I first saw you. In the cave.” Wally’s voice was so soft, just like his skin. Smooth, taken care of.
Batman took off his glove and pushed up the uniform to expose more to touch. It made Wally shiver again.
“Keep going,” Batman quietly commanded.
“You caught me in the cave. I imagined... you didn’t let me escape. I never thought about men. But you... were like a god.” He moved against the touch, a full erection now straining against the red uniform.
He’d dominated him twice over without intending to. Batman could remember when Wally was young, Kid Flash in the Batcave, knowing he wasn’t supposed to be there when he was caught. It was like a weight of guilty responsibility; Wally was confused.
“I can’t take advantage of you.”
“I’m not a kid anymore.”
He shouldn’t do this.
But he already had Wally, writhing in Batman’s black cables against the red, shiny costume. Trying to move his thighs against his groin. The bonds didn’t let him.
He’d gone too far now.
Batman rose over him, straddled his body, leaned down to kiss him. Wally turned his face up, hungry for it, pushing up aggressively. As much as the cables let him.
So willing.
“You want Batman to fuck you?” he asked, in his most serious voice. A dark place inside him was coming out, gleeful about freedom.
“For so long.”
The cape was pooling around them, Wally was covered by it, covered by him.
Batman pulled his the red pants around the knots at Wally’s knees.
He was making too much noise. Screaming demands to be touched, to be fucked, to be licked.
He got into his face and snarled. Startled, Wally shrank back.
“Be silent.”
Wally nodded, looking at him with those big, scared eyes again. Batman stared into them and rolled the top of the uniform into Wally’s armpits, exposing his belly, his waist, his chest. One hand was bare, and one still wearing the gauntlet, feeling the difference. The muted sensation through leather. He watched the eyes change, narrow, heavy-lidded.
Biting his lips to keep himself quiet. Learning to follow directions. Batman laughed, which apparently was terrifying. Wally whimpered a little and arched against his gloved hand.
“That’s better,” Batman purred, pleased.
He pulled a batarang out of his belt, didn’t let Wally see it, but the sound of it opening was unmistakable. Clean, efficient steel.
Wally gasped and jumped.
“Be still. It’s...” he cut Wally’s hip, just a little, just to show him, “it’s very sharp.”
The wound would be gone before the blood was dry. His body was so efficient like that. Wally’s chest moved up and down rapidly, but he didn’t move. The edge of the blade grazed it’s way down the exposed lengths of skin.
Suppressed shudders, breathy moans. “Very good.”
The head of Wally’s cock was wet, leaking slowly without even being touched.
He wondered how many times he could come to orgasm in a short period of time. Perhaps he could test it. For science.
Batman turned Wally over, grazed along the curves of his ass, down the insides of his thighs, scratching over such a tender surface. Wally shuddered, then Batman sliced the line between his wrists and his knees.
He picked him up and carried him to a stack of wood pallets strapped to the floor; it was sturdy, perfect to bend him over, weight on his chest. Wally turned his head to one side and looked back over his shoulder, the toes of his boots touching the floor.
Being tied together made his ankles look more shapely, his legs graceful. Like a dancer. Batman tied him down to the pallets to keep him there, winding line under his arms, over his back and through the slats. Wally squeezed his legs against the wood as Batman pulled the line tight, tied it off firmly.
Positioned so his hips could be pulled away from the wood, up on his toes with his ass in the air, flexing, Batman stepped back and just looked at him a moment. He had to work to keep on his toes like that, his legs taut and lovely.
He watched him, then settled over his body again, enjoying it there. The way his naked skin looked against the dark gray of his uniform.
Being silent didn’t appear to be something Wally was capable of. But he tried, so hard. It was so difficult for him, especially as Batman used the bare hand to stroke the tender skin of his cock. Barely brushing it, at first, bringing the thumb around first, then the palm, tugging.
Wally tried to push into his grip, so he took his hand away, squeezed his ass with the point-tipped glove. It wouldn’t draw blood, but he knew it hurt, felt how it hurt as Wally squirmed. Trying to move away, but held in place.
Batman kissed the marks after he let go, taking his time to begin touching Wally again.
Knowing better than to move, Wally ground his teeth together, kept still with visible effort. Batman licked sweat off his forehead and let him come for the first time. For a moment Wally went rigid, then weak in the knees, but he recovered quickly.
Back on his toes, hard again.
It was harder for Wally to keep still, but Batman didn’t let up, forgiving the tight squirming.
Two. Three, four, five.
The difficulty became keeping up the motion that long. His hand took different motions, twisting, pumping. At seventeen his arm was getting tired.
Wally looked exhausted, but he kept himself up, in both senses. Panting, his legs trembling.
“Feeling worn out?” Batman asked quietly.
“Yes,” Wally gasped.
“That’s unfortunate. I haven’t started yet.”
Wally moaned loudly, until he remembered to stop and shut his mouth quickly, shifted on his toes.
Batman leaned close against his body, the tied hands against his chest. “So well behaved,” he whispered. Wally’s mouth was slack, his lips red from being chewed on. His cheeks flushed, his hair lank with sweat.
He pushed back, ever so slightly, when he felt Batman’s cock against his ass. His eyelids fluttered and looked up with sex-drunk eyes.
“Batman,” Wally rasped. If he wanted to say something else, he didn’t, merely squeezed his calves tighter, arched his back down, offering himself.
There was a small bottle of lube in the belt; it was a versatile thing to keep on hand. Useful.
Batman stroked Wally’s muscled back with the gloved hand, guiding himself in with the other. Wally knew better how to relax, how to accept him, aching slow. He pushed in all the way, held still in him and helped support his legs as he took Wally’s cock back in his hand.
It had begun to flag, but jumped back to life, eager to come again. Eighteen, nineteen and twenty all rippled around Batman’s cock. He smelled sex and sweat and began to move firmly.
Wally twisted and panted, uttered a soft grunt every time Batman thrust in. His body was hot, vibrating gently.
Twenty-one, twenty-two. The most incredible feeling.
He tasted Wally’s sweat and fell into the motion like waves, had to admire his subject’s stamina.
At thirty, Wally was barely hanging on, his eyes rolled back in his head, his head thrown back as he gasped for air. This gentle whining moan of pain and pleasure and exhaustion in his throat.
Still fighting so hard to keep his position.
To please him.
Batman came, thrust in hard, arched back and dug all his fingers into Wally’s hips. Pulling him up tight, rushing with such exquisite pleasure. He savored every moment.
Wally finally collapsed against the wood. The floor beneath him was splattered with semen, his bound knees bent together as he sagged down and took the weight off his trembling calf muscles.
Cleaning up first, collecting himself, Batman took in the sight. What he’d done. So beautifully obscene with the uniform around his knees, the black cords not letting him do anything but stay where he was, used up and exhausted.
Taking a picture wasn’t necessary to ensure he’d remember. He untied Wally’s body from the slats, carefully carried him closer to the wall.
Batman sat on a pile of tarps, spread the cape underneath them, Wally draped over his lap.
The rest knots were untied one by one, the de-cel line tossed aside.
Wally took his gloves off with now free but shaking hands, rubbed his wrists and watched Batman unfold a small towel from the belt, a second one he gently used to clean Wally’s skin for him, especially gentle over his tender cock. Finally soft and sated.
He tossed it aside when he was done and tugged Wally’s uniform back into place.
“I’m so tired,” Wally sighed.
Batman began to massage Wally’s calves for him, making him moan again for another kind of appreciation. They had to be sore, aching. His legs were tense, all muscle and a pleasure just to knead.
Wally rested his head on Batman’s thigh and smiled. Almost petting the cape with his fingers.
“Pinch me,” Wally murmured. Batman obliged, which made him laugh, “I’m glad I’m not dreaming.”
Such trust. Complete, unconditional trust in him. The sex was amazing but that... that was the sweetest element of it all. Wally was falling asleep in his lap, so happy to put himself in his hands.
Batman let Wally rest there for a while, surrounded by him.
Zoom was gone, the money returned, but the stolen tech never found. Used it to vanish back to wherever he’d been hiding in the cosmic scheme of things. That element was unsatisfying.
Wally had never even known the safe was in his closet, or that the back panelling could be taken off. He had to learn to be more careful and attentive. But Flash was getting better. Reckless, impulsive... but he solved the murder of Cherish Rogers once Batman handed it over to him. He had his own informants and ways of gathering information in Keystone City. Where having former criminals as friends came in useful to him. A couple days and Wally had a suspect delivered to the authorities.
A lawyer that never meant to do it. That part was also satisfying in that Wally accomplished it expeditiously, in his own way.
Rathaway took the security off the building when Wally asked him to; presently he suspected, but wouldn’t do anything about, Batman’s replacement system. The system Wally knew about.
It didn’t take him long to find the cameras in his bedroom.
That had been three months ago.
Three months of footage, collected and encrypted in his own files.
Batman had only made it back to Keystone once since then, but he had the cameras on all the time. The motion detection system enabled Batman to watch whenever he wanted to. Watching Wally at night, pleasuring himself, or bringing home a woman. Looking straight into the camera as he fucked someone else. For him.
After a while, he’d begun to leave instructions.
As a result, Wally had a whole other use for the secret panel in the closet; a collection of sex toys. He’d used them all, every way he was asked, looking at the audience he couldn’t see.
His private repertoire could put an adult star to shame and Batman had the only copy. The distance generally suited him, but he never forgot Wally’s fantasy. About being in the cave.
Today he’d not left instructions, but an invitation.
Punctuality didn’t take Wally long to master, once he tried. Now he lived by it. Right on time.
Just as asked, he appeared in the cave, as if from thin air. Wearing just the mask, the gloves, and the boots, on the edge of the black chasm. On his hands and knees. His ankles crossed, which Batman hadn’t specified, but decided he liked. Aesthetically.
“Keep your eyes shut, but raise your head up.” He did, his back arching downward some. His neck appearing longer. “Good.”
Wally shivered, but Batman doubted it was from the cold.
He hadn’t been certain if the feeling would be the same, being together after such a disconnect. But it was as if the time had never passed.
Batman turned on the monitors, all around playing footage of Wally performing lewd acts on his bed. With audio.
The cave echoed with the sounds of sex, layers of moans, sighs, and lusty words. Wally listened, didn’t opened his eyes, but his blushed all down his body.
Flesh-toned motion glowed over the floors and walls, over Wally.
Batman took it in, heady with lust. Watched and let Wally simmer for a while, still, quiet, listening. Envisioning what was on the screens from memory.
“Do you enjoy performing for me?”
“Yes.”
Without a sound, Batman circled closer. His voice came from another place entirely.
“Good.”
Wally shivered again, shifted on his knees.
Batman moved again, closer.
“Kneel,” he commanded. Wally revealed himself as completely aroused already, pushing his hips out, showing off his erection. “Wrists behind your back.”
His gloved hands made elegant shapes, his arms twisted in place. Wally held the position, even though Batman didn’t move just yet. He’d kept his eyes shut, which was somewhat effecting his balance. Wally unsteadily sat down on his feet, the yellow soles of his boots cradling his bare ass.
It had to be testing his patience. Wally began shifting a little, wanting to move.
Batman bent down and locked black cuffs around Wally’s wrists. Cuffs strong enough to slow Superman down. Wally exhaled like he’d been holding his breath.
The cape draped around him when Batman leaned over his body, the sharp tips of his gloves swatting gently, playfully over Wally’s bare skin, teeth nibbling down his shoulders. Pushing up the edges of the mask to reach more.
“I love the way you taste,” he breathed.
Wally smiled, touched back as much as he could with his fingers, against the body armor. Not otherwise replying.
Batman wrapped his arms around his waist, pulled him to his feet, and turned them around, facing the monitors.
“Open your eyes.”
He did. His cock bobbed and he pressed back against Batman’s body.
On the center screen, Wally had a girl on top of him, riding him. His hands on her hips, her brown hair tumbling down her back as he moved her up and down. Abdomen rippling strength, toes curled. Looking directly at the camera, smiling wickedly.
Watching it, he blushed furiously, shy.
“My dirty boy. So well behaved.”
Batman pulled him to his chair, dropped him in front of it as he settled down comfortably, the cape draping around him.
He unbuckled the belt, took himself out of the protective gear and the uniform, and Wally didn’t need to be asked to get between his knees. A fast learner, he got used to the idea of sucking cock in a minute, licking enthusiastically.
The monitors still played as Wally listened and wrapped his lips up and down the shaft, vibrating his tongue. An amazing sensation he could feel down into his pelvis.
“Good,” Batman encouraged. Wally smiled through his work, his cheeks contorted by sucking. The mask gleamed faintly in the dim, moving illumination of the footage, the gold wings shining as his head bobbed up and down.
He was such a sweet indulgence.
Batman summoned willpower, made Wally work for it, learn a variety of motions with only his mouth to use. His talented mouth.
“Swallow it all,” he ordered, squeezed hard against the seat, and came. Felt Wally swallow and lick up his seed as the rush filled him.
When he looked down again, Wally was licking away the last of it, still smiling so wide there were dimples on his cheeks not noticed before, like he was entirely pleased with himself.
“Get up.”
Wally stood, laughed in surprise when Batman pulled him forward, one leg at a time over the arms of the chair. He had to squeeze them tight around it to keep from falling backwards, leaning forward over Batman’s lap.
Keeping his balance was difficult when Batman began stroking his cock, playing with it carefully with his gloves. Wally was nervous, having the claws against his fragile skin. He whimpered, breathing rapidly. Shaking when he tugged on his foreskin with the tips of the pointed fingers.
“Do you enjoy being my plaything?”
“Yes,” he answered, unhesitant but wavering. Sweating with the exertion of holding himself steady.
Batman kept him there, toyed with him until Wally’s legs began to shake.
“Ah!” Batman smacked his ass sharply, forced him to struggle not to fall forward. His whole body strained, readied to be struck again.
Wally squealed when the hand smacked him even harder, licked Batman’s cowl breathtakingly quickly between blows. Just a few his palms had itched to give him.
Batman turned him around, eased him down right onto his cock. Surprised by it, Wally gasped, jumped a little in Batman’s grip. Then he sighed, relaxed and helped ease himself down until he was sitting in Batman’s lap, squirming on his dick, squeezing around it. Spending the entire night fucking Wally was an ever more concrete plan.
He’d only just started to move when the screens flicked off the images of Wally and showed an alert in the city.
Batman pushed Wally off his lap, pulled himself back together as he read the details.
The Penguin was robbing a jewelry store downtown. He could be there in six and a half minutes, more than enough time to catch this one.
“Anything I can do?” Wally was sitting on the floor, his legs bent up casually, his thick cock laying on his belly.
“No.”
Batman paused, then picked Wally up off the floor and threw him over his shoulder. He could think of a fitting confinement for a mechanic.
There were two Batmobiles sitting beside each other in the cave; he popped up the trunk of one, designed to hold a prisoner, and gently set Wally down inside.
“I’ll be back for you soon,” he said, and shut it firmly.
Batman took the other car and left, reminded himself that Wally was the interruption here, the engines roaring as he sped towards the city. The Batmobile was not fast as Flash, but fast enough.
If Wally wanted to know his secret identity, at this point, he would tell him. If he hadn’t recognized him already. Wally knew what the real side of him was, that was what he wanted.
Batman smiled as he drove.
He had work to do, but Wally would be waiting when he was done. Laying pliantly on the cushioned upholstery, in darkness. Perhaps he was even a little scared, but Batman knew it was exactly where he’d be when he got back.
It was something he could certainly get used to.
no subject
on 2007-12-11 11:00 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-12-11 11:31 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-12-12 04:05 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-12-12 06:07 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-12-12 06:33 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-12-12 06:48 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-12-12 01:52 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-12-12 09:38 pm (UTC)Thanks! :)
no subject
on 2007-12-12 06:42 pm (UTC)I... Its......They -Dies-
no subject
on 2007-12-12 09:39 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2007-12-12 10:27 pm (UTC)I mean I knew it was coming but... geez. I think my brain is in permanent meltdown. That my dear as we the English love to say.... was bloody fantastic.
no subject
on 2007-12-12 11:24 pm (UTC)Finding bondagey uses for Batman's stuff was too much fun. Wally narrowly avoided a very close encounter with a bola, haha.
no subject
on 2007-12-13 05:24 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-12-13 05:40 am (UTC)no subject
on 2007-12-16 03:47 am (UTC)This. Yes. I love me some JLU Wally but it was so nice to read comic Wally. Done well. Jesus, this was so hot and just fun to read. The bits about him flirting cause he wasn't quite sure how else to respond, yes. How pleased he was with his own body and his ego, and then him trying to be aggressive, and you've done such a great job rolling out his character, and and and it was blisteringly hot. Thank you so much for this.
Lol, also I love that it closed with Batman having to leave, as much of a shame as it was that the scene had to come to such an abrupt end. ~Wally is the distraction here~ was a great touch. x)
no subject
on 2007-12-16 04:34 am (UTC)I'm pretty sure at least one follow-up will happen, so, maybe that'll make up for the coitus interruptus. It's possible I'm 10 1/2 pages into one already, and very likely that Catwoman and ball gag are involved. ;)
Thank you! :)
no subject
on 2007-12-19 08:09 am (UTC)"There was a small bottle of lube in the belt; it was a versatile thing to keep on hand. Useful."
It's canon! (http://www.superdickery.com/seduction/4.html)
no subject
on 2007-12-19 08:28 am (UTC)The whole thing started with that idea, of the alias and subterfuge. Thought about using Matches, but I got thrown the idea of Clark's glasses... and I got stuck on the image of Bruce taking Clark's look. With a lab coat.
Man, I just keep watching your icon over and over, haha...
Yes, well. Lube. I'm sure it's helped the Bat out of many a bind. :D
Thank you!
no subject
on 2008-06-30 03:50 am (UTC)http://talentlessmoo.deviantart.com/art/lol-boxes-90196970
I love your work!
no subject
on 2008-06-30 04:11 am (UTC)It's like, pretty much exactly how I pictured him looking in that scene. The outfit and that "I'm so fabulous" vibe. XD
Thank you so much! :)
no subject
on 2008-07-05 09:43 am (UTC)no subject
on 2008-07-07 01:55 am (UTC)