withintenfeet | Open Post

His fingers are trailing down to trace those very lines, tracing the lowest and wobbliest first. He started before he could even hold his tool properly - that tracks, honestly, and his laughter is thick.

Zerxus suspects, when he looks at Bruce, that he won't see any recognition in his eyes. It still feels like a kick in the chest.

The walls that tracked Elias's growth are gone, now; Evandrin's house in Avalir, the cottage in Cathmoira, both of them are ashes in the air. This is worse than that.

"...Not an issue, no."

He continues to watch Zerxus, curiosity and confusion and even some compassion while he does. He doesn't understand why some random, not even level, lines would rouse that much emotion. Much less that type of emotion, though he can't even clearly identify what the emotion is.

"It's certainly something though, isn't it?"

He even goes to swipe some of the dust off the wall, and in doing so, however carelessly, uncovers one that's out of place and even shakier than the others (Except the first) and far above the rest.

"Yes. But I don't know if - "

The words trail off as his eyes widen, and he cocks his head slightly as his brow furrows. Then he turns, casting around for something -

Abruptly, there's another huff of laughter as he kneels down. More to himself than Bruce he murmurs, "Oh, you were a terror."

He doesn't understand any of this, and that feels terrible.

"You don't know if what? Was a terror?" Is it possible to be curious and then mildly offended in rapid turn? Yes. "What are you seeing here?" Then demanding right on the end of it.

He can't help it; in the midst of this, knelt between a record and a rocking chair, those words sound like a child's. When he looks up his expression is, somehow, both deeply pained and warmly amused.

"You're lucky I'm not asking you for the magic word." Mostly because Asmodeus probably told him it was 'now'. "I'm seeing your childhood, Bruce."

The magic word is 'now'. The magic words are 'or I will kill you'. Or light them on fire, or stare at them in a particularly menacing way and kill them. There are options. Lots and lots of options for the specifics of kill and suffer.

He looks around the room, seeing the space and the things still in it with interest that is ... not as emotionally remote as he might like. Also thinking about the Waynes, but only in the most abstract of ways. Remembering they exist.

"It is Wayne property." There shouldn't be surprise that there's anything left of his childhood here. But it is. It very, very much is.

Soft but intent, "It was a home."

This is dangerous territory. He's pushing lines here, prodding wounds, and at the end of the day Bruce is still a devil.

He doesn't actually know if baring his own soul as he does it will help any, but -

"Elias can't remember his father's voice."

It is dangerous territory. It is dangerous territory for both of them, both directly and indirectly. There is very little that can be gained from continuing down this path.

Except that Bruce... wants to. Remember mostly, and he's staring at that growth record thinking that they should be at least familiar instead of entirely alien.

"The dead one, I assume." He should remember Zerxus' voice just fine, thanks. It's an idle remark. Mostly he's just sort of... still staring, head tilted.

"Devils really are cunning." Dry but not harsh, as he reaches up to trace that very first line again.

Far more softly, "You were marking your height."

"Yes, I'd worked out the purpose." And that breaks his speculative thought process to have him turned back and looking down at Zerxus. "What was cunning about my question?"

"Absolutely nothing." There's that interplay again, humour and heartbreak. "You don't get teased a lot, do you?"

He does not understand the heartbreak. He does at least recognize it -- and the humor.

"No. Most people aren't quite that reckless with their safety." He assumes that's the reason, anyway.

"Are you actually feeling violent right now?" Genuinely curious, a little challenging, and not nearly as apprehensive as it should be.

"No, but if you tease me wrong that can change very quickly." He's both joking and not. It's probably joking. The delivery doesn't really indicate that, though.

"Understood." What he actually means, judging by the glint in his eyes, is challenge accepted. Which is perhaps not the sentiment you ought to have, on your knees before the Prince of Hell, but we've established this man's survival instinct.

He pats Zerxus on the top of the head, then drags his fingers all the way through his hair, from forehead to back of his neck -- roughly. "I still think you're trying to die." You idiot.

He's all set to roll his eyes, and then - well, then his breath catches in his throat and they go dark and bright instead, startled and simmering.

"I think you just don't know what to do with someone who isn't afraid of you." That definitely came out more hoarsely breathless than he intended, and somehow this is what's making him anxious.

He slides his hand around from the nape of Zerxus' neck to grip his chin and pull it up, with a smirk. "I know exactly what to do with you." that is an outright, albeit dangerous, purr. "It doesn't convince me you're any less insane."

He doesn't really mind that part.

It also doesn't mean he knows what to do with someone who isn't intimidated by him, though. Just that this? Is easy. And fun. And hot.

His heart is pounding, adrenaline laced with fear but not dominated by it. No, he still doesn't look afraid, just stunned. His mouth has gone dry.

This shouldn't - he shouldn't be overwhelm this easily but he hasn't felt like this since -

"Do you." Raggedly defiant, except for how he hasn't resisted or in fact moved in any way. His hands feel leaden against the floorboards.

"Do you know what the most interesting part is." It isn't really a question, just still watching Zerxus' face with intensity that really isn't human. "I haven't given you a single order, and you've just... chosen to stay where you are."

He pulls his hand back then and very lightly, with just his index finger, tapes Zerxus on the nose.

It shouldn't be captivating, it really shouldn't, and that only adds to the cocktail of emotions churning in his chest. This is not why he's here, he should not be feeling any of this, maybe he really is insane -

Pouring wounded pride onto that ignites everything.

When he finally moves, it's to arch his head up and bite the tip of Bruce's finger.

It shouldn't be captivating, it shouldn't be interesting, and he definitely should not have a mortal trying to bite (?!?!?) him.

Not just trying, since Bruce stands there and watches it happen.

"You're going to end up in my bed, eventually. Did you want it to be now?"

It's more of a nip, really, and for just a second Zerxus seems wolfishly satisfied with himself. It makes him look downright young

Then realisation settles in and snuffs that playful passion like a candle. He immediately settles back on his heels before starting to push himself back to his feet.

"You're awfully sure of yourself."

Bruce lifts his eyebrows - both of them - in a way that's a bit unusually... human, and gestures down along his body and to the space Zerxus has only just now decided to vacate by standing.

Every ounce of his expression and body language is clearly saying, are you joking right now.

It's not even mean, just.

Come on now, man.

It's a distinct ability to blush grumpily and he has apparently mastered it.

"I'm very tired and you're very - " No, you know what, he's gonna keep that to a silent gesture too.

"I'll get over it."

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