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Reconciled Moments
Chapter Eight
written by destinyawakened
Bruce handled the press when they returned to Wayne Manor to find a yard full of waiting reporters and a flustered Alfred trying to keep them calm, claiming he knew nothing about their allegations and was sure “Master Wayne” would be home shortly to explain everything. It wasn't a secret that Bruce and Jim were friends, good friends, even. So when Jim showed up with Bruce in a taxi it wasn't awkward, but it was a little unsettling considering that Bruce was rumored to have crashed the funeral drunk (and now Bruce wondered who had made up that bit). Certainly Bruce's playboy image could benefit from this; it was, after all, the sort of thing that the facade lived off of.
So the story stuck. Jim slipped into the Manor before they could get to him. Bruce explained to the press that it was completely his fault and that the commissioner held no ill feelings on the matter and that they were moving on from it. When asked, even though drunk, why he had kissed the commissioner, Bruce's answer was simply, “Why not?” said with a delighted, smug smile, teeth bared, and eyes squinted just a little to show off his “I do this daily” attitude. Bruce found he was almost grateful for this distraction; it had been too long since he had been caught in the tabloids as the playboy he was supposed to be. This provided enough cover until he could find himself another excuse without Jim going completely jealous on him.
Bruce could tell, however, that the situation was not going to die down overnight – they were going to need to lay low for a bit.
------
After Barbara and the kids left, Gordon took Babs home as well. They all had a nice chat, talking about everything but the funeral, even though Barbara kept giving Bruce an evil glare. Gordon thought they had gotten past this, that Barbara understood Bruce's place in Gordon's life. He had made it clear to her when she left that he still cared about her a lot, but her place in his life had changed, and that was by her own doing nearly two years ago. Gordon couldn't help but think there was a bit of jealousy in her now that her ex-husband was finally happy in his life without her. Even if he didn't have Bruce and they tried again, it would never work – they both knew it.
Gordon watched as Babs threw her purse on the couch, flopping down next to it and bending her head back over the top of the couch to look at him. He came up behind the couch, hands on either side of her head, bending over her so that their eyes met. He smiled at her thoughtfully. How she had come to live with him seemed a blur from the past week, and it felt like she'd always lived there with him. His family. His niece – his daughter. A part of him hoped that over time Babs would start to call him Dad, that he could be what she needed enough that she would see him like that(no matter the paternity test outcome). It was a long shot, but it couldn't hurt to hope.
“I'm taking a few days to go to Chicago. A few unfinished things need to be done there and I'd like to get the rest of your things. Do you want to come with me? Or would you rather stay in Gotham with Bruce and Alfred?” Gordon asked her. Babs seemed to consider it, thinking it over as her eyes wandered from his, and then she looked at him again with a little grin, the biggest smile he'd seen her do all day..
“I'd like to go with you. Sort through my things. I don't think I'll need everything.” She turned around on the couch, arm crossed over the back. “Bruce won't be going?”
Gordon shook his head. He hadn't even mentioned it to Bruce yet, but he honestly didn't need him running around Chicago in the Batsuit raising suspicion about why Batman would be there. “No. He's got a company to run. Not sure he has the time.”
“Oh.” She slid backwards off the couch and walked to the kitchen to find her laptop, which was plugged into the outlet. She unplugged it and brought it back over to the couch where she started it up. Well, that was the end of the conversation, Gordon supposed.
“I'll make ticket reservations in the morning,” he muttered and she nodded her head and made a little noise that he assumed was an agreement. He sighed and walked to the kitchen to reheat leftover Chinese food.
-----
It was around two in the morning when Gordon was woken by the sound of someone crawling through his bedroom window. His first instinct was to go for the gun in the nightstand next to the bed. But there was only one person who could possibly climb to the tenth floor of the apartment building to get to his bedroom window: Batman. Gordon watched as Batman slid through the window and shut it quietly behind him.
“Do you ever sleep at home anymore?” Gordon asked as he crawled out of bed, watching as Batman started to remove the cowl.
“It would be easier if you lived at the Manor with me,” Bruce managed to spit out as he slid the cowl from his head and tossed it lazily to the floor. Gordon raised his eyebrows at Bruce and the billionaire stopped in the middle of taking off the rest of the armor realizing what he had just said. Whereas Gordon had thought about it, it was far from the first thing he wanted to do now that Babs was living with him – though it would make taking care of her a lot easier with Alfred around. No, no...
“Bruce...” Gordon started to say and Bruce stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the older man to quiet him.
“It wasn't an invitation.” Bruce whispered. A part of Gordon was disappointed, the other part figured Bruce was just covering his own ass and didn't want to get an earful for even suggesting it.
“How was your patrol?” Gordon asked as he helped Bruce take the rest of the armor off.
“Quiet. Not too much going on. It really leaves me a bit unsettled. It's almost a calm before the storm.” Bruce tossed the last piece of armor in the pile with the rest. “How's Babs handling everything from today?”
“She barely talked to me when we got home. Told her I needed to go to Chicago to look into a few things and pick up her belongings and asked if she wanted to come with. She seemed disappointed when I told her you wouldn't be coming with us.” Gordon rolled his eyes. He would never have thought Babs would find a role model in a guy like Bruce – well, in a guy like Bruce pretended to be. This made him wonder if Bruce dropped the act all together when he had those one-on-one talks with Babs.
“What made you think I wouldn't be able to go?” Bruce asked, the start of something brewing in his eyes, and Gordon couldn't tell if it was sadness, hurt or anger – or something else all entirely.
“Well, I just assumed. You've been busy with Lucius and that deal you had going in Metropolis. I thought you needed to stay to finish it up.” It was a bad excuse, and not one that was likely to fly with the billionaire. Gordon mentally crossed his fingers and hoped Bruce bought it and moved on.
If only he was that lucky.
“Lucius has that under control right now. I can go.” Bruce assured the commissioner. Gordon knew Bruce just wanted to be there for him and Babs, to spend time with them, to be the family Bruce obviously didn't have. But Gordon knew Bruce was needed in Gotham and that having him in Chicago would just be hard to explain.
“Bruce, I really don't think it's a good idea.” Gordon wasn't sure how to tell the billionaire he just wanted some time with his niece, that maybe a trip to Chicago – her home – would make things easier on them both, and allow for some bonding. “It's going to be boring.”
“You're going so you can investigate,” said Bruce accusingly as he took a step towards Gordon, leaving only a few feet between them. Bruce had a predatory look in his eye, and his body language was slowly shifting from “bat-mode” into something all together wicked.
“No. I never said that,” Gordon said, trying to defend himself. He knew what Bruce was trying to do, and he was darn good at it. It was the playboy act, the facade that got him everything he wanted. Except with Gordon, Bruce always meant every action – every word. Gordon raised his hands to try to fend off the younger man. “Listen, Bruce. I really just need you to stay here.”
Bruce had a split second of mock-hurt on his face, but his eyes were saying otherwise. Gordon knew this was not what Bruce wanted to hear, and he was slowly trying to turn the tables in his favor using techniques not quite fair to the older man. Bruce was starting to play a very dangerous game with the commissioner, and Gordon knew he wasn't going to stop until he got his way. But Gordon stood his ground – Bruce Wayne always won these little games, and this time Gordon wasn't going to let him get the victory quite so easily.
“Are you ashamed of me?” Bruce asked in a low tone, suave and smooth like melted chocolate. It was a question that would have usually been asked in another tone, something more regretful and maybe even angry, but Bruce was working it into his game, and Gordon could feel himself being pulled into it. It was getting harder to ignore.
“That is a terrible assumption,” Gordon said sternly, trying to regain control of his thoughts. The situation was quickly going in the wrong direction; maybe if he turned this into an argument he could finally win. Bruce took another step closer to him and Gordon took a step back. Mixed emotions were starting to fill Gordon's thoughts; it had been a long time since...
“Maybe. Maybe not.” The tone the billionaire used was one that Gordon remembered from October, in the cemetery at Rachel's grave, when Bruce had revealed himself to Gordon as actually being Batman. It was a seductive tone with a hint of rasp, a tiny bit of desperation. Gordon reluctantly felt his groin twinge at the memory, when everything had changed.
“What's that supposed to mean?” Gordon asked as Bruce took one last step closer and Gordon took one last step backwards, the heel of his foot hitting the floorboard on the wall as Bruce's knee went instinctively between Gordon's thighs just below Gordon's crotch, spreading his legs.
“You need to relax. I think the sexual tension between us is making you irritable. We should fix that,” Bruce whispered as he put a firm hand on Gordon's chest, keeping him from moving while working the drawstring on Gordon's sleep pants with the other. Gordon stared at Bruce in surprise, confusion etched across his face. He opened his mouth to speak but Bruce placed his lips there, swallowing whatever words Gordon was about to say, converting them into a small whine that came from deep in the commissioner's throat.
“Just shut up, Jim,” Bruce mumbled against Gordon's lips. He loosened the waistband and unbuttoned the front flap. Bruce's hand moved roughly over Gordon's chest, to his neck, his hair, pulling lightly as Bruce's tongue did a full search of the older man's warm mouth.
Gordon relaxed against the wall, his body already heating up from the sudden onslaught of sensations that were being thrown at him, in a situation that could very well have gone terribly differently. It had been too long; his groin was already aching for the warmth of Bruce's touch, twitching at the slightest caress. Bruce pulled his lips from Gordon's, giving the older man a sexy, needy smile as he shoved Gordon's pants and boxers to his knees. Gordon watched Bruce's eyes slide away from him as he lowered himself to the floor, keeping one hand firmly planted on Gordon's torso while grasping his penis in the other. Gordon closed his eyes and tipped his head back against the wall, feeling Bruce's warm, wet tongue close around his penis. Gordon clenched his fists into the billionaire's thick hair, letting out a moan; it had been months since they had actually tried anything past fondling, and Gordon was starting to feel that he might not last that long. In all, it wouldn't matter – they were going to have this moment.
Bruce's tongue wrapped around the head of Gordon's penis while his hand worked the shaft in a steady up-and-down rhythm, now and then reaching out his fingers to caress Gordon's testicles. Gordon let out a deep groan and tried to push Bruce's head away. He wanted to take the situation into his own hands, to let out his frustrations on Bruce, but it seemed that the younger man had other plans. Slowly, Bruce worked a hand into Gordon's pants which had been discarded on the floor beside him, and pulled out the handcuffs.
“No,” Gordon whispered hoarsely ,with a shake of his head, but his body was telling Bruce otherwise; he wanted to ravage the billionaire, but his thoughts were betraying him and he kept perfectly still – maybe he wanted Bruce to take it; maybe it was what he needed. It was fair, was within the unsaid rules they had set silently back at the start of their relationship. He'd let Bruce have this one, but the billionaire would learn his place later.
Bruce had gotten to his feet, still holding Gordon in one hand, stroking him steadily. Gordon thought for a split second that Bruce would turn him around, cuff his hands behind his back, but something made the younger man stop, drop the cuffs, and tackle Gordon to the bed instead. Maybe it was the sheer trust Gordon had in him, that Bruce would do what he wanted and that Gordon would always trust him; or maybe it was that this moment needed something more intimate then handcuffs.
Bruce sunk his teeth into the flesh of Gordon's shoulder, hands under his hips as Bruce started to grind against him possessively. Gordon circled his arms around Bruce's body, forcing the younger man to straddle him on the bed. Bruce licked a clean stripe up the commissioner's neck, his lips capturing Gordon's again, this time rough, sloppy, wet – completely savage. Gordon slid his hands down Bruce's back to his taut ass, letting his fingers caress down through the cheeks, touching the ring of flesh, feeling Bruce writhe above him.
Gordon reached a hand over to the nightstand and recklessly grabbed the bottle of lube and a condom. Bruce had trailed away from his lips, leaving ravishing kisses down the side of the older man's neck. His lips were now so close to Gordon's ear that Gordon could Bruce's breath hitching in his throat, a small whine behind his tone that he tried to hide. And then the question that they had never asked, as the game had never allowed it.
“What do you want?” Bruce's whisper slipped into a growl, and piece a of Gordon's sanity was lost to it. If Bruce was going to ask, he was going to get what he wanted from this, despite the playboy's efforts to be the one in the control. Except Bruce was handing him the reins, and when the younger man's eyes locked with his he knew that every bit of trust Bruce had in him was being put out there for him; waiting to be taken in and given back in full force.
Though Gordon didn't answer, Bruce seemed to understand. Gordon pulled Bruce down into another kiss, one hand caressing the younger man's face while the other returned to Bruce's ass, lingering and teasing over the tight hole. Bruce mumbled what was probably the word 'fuck' into Gordon's mouth, which in turn earned Bruce a twitch of the older man's penis against his groin. Bruce pulled up and back, Gordon tearing the condom wrapper open with his teeth and carefully unrolling it onto his hard penis. Bruce was already preparing with the lube, catching Gordon's eye with a wanton gaze as he crawled back on to the commissioner.
The position had always worked well for them, as neither party had total dominance and they both felt they had plenty of control. Gordon grasped his own penis with his steady hand, watching Bruce slid down onto it, the sudden warmth like a wave of water that washed over Gordon like a tide. Bruce was squatting over him, muscles in his legs and thighs bulging with each up-and-down movement he made. Gordon found he wanted to reach out and control Bruce's movements, but the billionaire was in a zone, eyes half-closed and glazed over with lust. So the commissioner relaxed and reached and reached out take a hold of Bruce's hard penis instead, giving it a rough squeeze each time he brought his fist towards the head. Bruce was now squeezing his eyes shut, teeth biting into his bottom lip, another 'fuck' on the tips of his tongue. Gordon wanted him to say it, to say his name in association with it. It was only a matter of time.
Gordon continued to pump Bruce's penis and lift his own hips up at just the right moment when Bruce came down on him, listening to the slick down of skin meeting skin. Gordon felt the heat rising in his groin, the pressure building as his hips started to buck violently.
He found himself forming his own words as he saw that Bruce was still holding back the phrase on his lips. “Say it!” he groaned as his thumb swirled around the head of Bruce's penis, and he jerked his hand up, then down over the shaft again.
Bruce's head rolled back on his neck. “Fuck, Jim...” rolled out of his mouth in a whispered moan, Bruce's penis throbbed in Gordon's hand and the older man worked it harder until the billionaire came, the familiar off-white ooze dripping onto his chest. The sight made Gordon spasm, the heat of an orgasm rolling through him as he let out a feral growl and dragged Bruce down into a sloppy kiss.
They pulled apart. Gordon removed the condom and threw it haphazardly into the waste bin while Bruce found the tissues on the nightstand and wiped them both clean. The older man threw himself back against the pillows at the headboard and Bruce crawled into bed beside him, throwing an arm around Gordon's torso.
“I'm going with you. You can't stop me,” Bruce said in a low tone. No, when Bruce put it that way, Gordon really couldn't stop him.
“I hate you,” Gordon grumbled as he placed a hand on Bruce's back and pulled him closer. It was obvious that Bruce knew it wasn't true, that it was merely Gordon's way of saying, “Yes, you can come along” without actually giving in and admitting his defeat.
“We could take my private jet,” Bruce mentioned sleepily, a suppressed yawn in his voice.
“No. If you're coming with us, you're doing this my way.”
------
Jim woke early the next morning, sliding out from under Bruce and cleaning up the mess in the garbage can by the bed, putting the left over condoms and lube back into the nightstand. He threw on a bathrobe and headed out to the living room. He half expected to see Babs already out there with her laptop, but was surprised to see she was not. Maybe the week had finally caught up to her and she was catching up on her much-needed sleep. Which was fine; Gordon himself could have used the sleep, but there was only so much he could really take until he grew restless. Which was why he was awake now.
He turned on the coffee maker and stalked over to the desk to start to search for airline tickets. He vaguely thought about how good it was that he hadn't bought the tickets last night since Bruce had so kindly invited himself along. The thought was beginning to grow on Gordon and he was beginning to realize that maybe he had overreacted about Bruce coming along, that it would be nice to have someone with him to check out the auto body shop and to help pack things and get them in a moving truck. Oh, he had forgotten to tell Bruce that part – they'd be driving back.
It would be fine. Gotham, as Bruce had mentioned, was very quiet as of late. She could do without the Commissioner and Batman for a few days. And time for them all to bond would be good, seeing as Gordon really wanted them to work as a family, and it was obvious Bruce did too. Hopefully Babs would be accepting of it. Gordon was all she had now, and Bruce could be there for her just as much as Gordon could be. They could definitely make this work.
“So are you taking time off work for this?” Bruce asked from behind him. Gordon had just hit the “buy” button on the screen for the tickets, so Bruce couldn't back out when he told him about the moving truck.
“Taking a week,” Gordon replied as he turned to face Bruce. The billionaire was wearing Gordon's extra bathrobe and an older pair of Gordon's sleep pants, which were a bit tight on Bruce.
“A week? That sounds a bit long just to go through some stuff.” Bruce had walked over to the coffee maker and poured two cups, adding only a splash a milk in one and nothing into the other.
“Well, here's the thing, Bruce. In order to get Babs' stuff back here, we're going to rent a moving truck and drive it back.” He smiled, at Bruce, giving him his best impression of the playboy billionaire airhead. Bruce didn't seem pleased. “Oh, come on. It'll be fun.”
Bruce sighed and handed Gordon his cup of coffee. “You tricked me James Gordon.”
“I did no such thing. You insisted on coming along.”
Bruce glared at him over the rim of the coffee mug as he sipped it. “You are in so much trouble.”
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