withintenfeet | Open Post

Zerxus almost tilts his head into the touch, on sheer yearning instinct, before he stops himself. His fingers feel thick and clumsy on his bootlaces, and it takes him a second to trust his voice.

"I take my work very seriously."

Work. Yes. That's what they're doing.

"You're naked, on your knees, and headed toward a shower with me."

That's all. Just a direct statement of exactly what the situation at the moment is. While turning his touch heavier, letting his fingers close a little tighter so there's a faint tug when he repeats that stroke through Zerxus' hair.

"...Almost naked." Well he has to find something to argue about, shivering until Bruce's hand.

It's getting harder and harder to pretend his reaction is a fluke born of exhaustion and vulnerability.

He slides his fingers around to grip Zerxus lightly under the chin, fingers pressed lightly against his pulse, and with a faint smile.

"Then finished getting undressed and get into the shower."

That one does not carry any weight. It's a... test.

His pulse is already pounding beneath Bruce's fingers, but it's the palpable absence of compulsion that makes his heart skip.

It's more stunned relief than true surprise - he hasn't forgotten that the obedience wasn't even part of the original deal - but it shakes him all the same; for a few moments he just sits with that, leaning into that gently dangerous grip.

Then he pulls back just enough to do what he was told.

He gives Zerxus room to move, lose the boxers and get into the bathroom and shower. Once he's inside the water - all the jets and shower heads - turn on.

Only once there's some steam on the door does Bruce step in with him, but he does join the mortal, and he certainly isn't clothed when he does. "Back to me." Please, not 'now'.

He's expecting it, but it still makes him gasp, almost stumbling; he really is tired, and aching, and so acutely vulnerable that it should make him feel nauseous.

Instead, he turns his back with barely a second though, all of his focus on not slipping in the water.

Bruce says not a single word, just puts one hand on Zerxus arm, slides down to his wrist and puts his hand against the wall. Then repeats the motion with the other hand. Implicit instruction: lean into the wall and don't fall.

He brushes a kiss across Zerxus' neck, from behind.

Then simply gets the soap and gets busy determiedly removing sweat, grime, and blood from Zerxus' skin. He does the back and hair first, then presses against Zerxus' back and does the same for his front.

As far down as he can reach, anyway. On his knees to complete the job is too obviously an act of service, instead of a sexual tease and taking advantage of an exhausted man.

That, he can do; it takes very little active thought to adjust his stance in a way that keeps him rock-steady, or as close as he can get in this situation.

The kiss is such a fleeting thing, and yet it makes him shiver amidst the water and steam, beneath those uncannily warm hands.

It feels good in a way that he knows is dangerous. His thoughts are already going hazy by the time Bruce leans into him, and the only thing that jolts him out of it is the fingers brushing against his necklace. It's not a flinch, exactly, but there's a ripple of tension.

He sighs softly, and huffily when Zerxus tenses. "You really need to stop that," he murmurs.

Then hooks his fingers around the necklace and pulls it around so he can look at the pendant.

Does he want to? No.

Is he going to not take advantage of something that overt, given his father's interest to this point? Also no. There are rules. This is one he breaks more than most, but he's not prepared to break it this overtly or soon.

Raggedly soft, "So I've been told." There's no resistance; Bruce already knows that he's a widower.

It's simple enough, on the surface; a smooth oval stone, charmed to be unbreakable, inscribed with an eternal script. The front of it reads, in Elvish, Evandrin Alterra.

The writing on the back is smaller and finer:

First Knight
City of Crowns
EK / B / A

Then why did he have to tell you, and risk even giving a warning being a problem?

He looks at the stone, flips it over to read the back and then flicks it back around to settle back where it had been without further commentary.

And goes back to washing Zerxus' front, as though none of it had happened.

"I'm leaving you to finish." Rinse, do the parts Bruce couldn't reach. "I'll be waiting with pajamas. I've decided you're sharing my room for the time being."

Slowly the tension ebbs away again, though not entirely; he doesn't quite reach that dazed level of comfort again, and he should probably be glad about it. He can't forget what he's meant to be doing here, or what's at stake. He shouldn't be disappointed when Bruce pulls away.

...Only to tell him -

"You've what - " He turns around....entirely too quickly, it turns out, and his feet skid beneath him.

He catches Zerxus under the elbows and hoists him back upright, to keep him from landing face first into glass or onto stone. "Did I stutter?"

He is entirely too dizzy to be this close to a sassy devil right now.

"What changed in the last - " ...How long has it been? Fuck, he doesn't even know.

He turns the water off - or, rather, the water turns off and it is his doing. The heat is apparently getting to the man - the heat and the exhaustion.

"I changed my mind. Lean on me to get out, I don't want you to break your nose." Lean is an order.

He can't resist doing that, but he can grumble "I could heal it" as he does.

"You're on the verge of passing out; I have my doubts in your abilities." He gets Zerxus out of the shower and grabs a towel without letting go of him. Bruce just becomes dry - dramatically and with a cloud of steam moving away from him. Zerxus is dried. With a towel. Meaning Bruce's hands all over him.

What he says - "Please. I've knit bones back together half-dead." - is theoretically impressive, but the words come out weak and slurred. The shock of cooler air gives him some clarity, at least, enough to straighten and keep himself upright.

Then, very suddenly, Bruce is dry and toweling him down. He can feel that same simmering warmth through the fabric.

Stepping back is stupid, because he's still more off balance than on, but he does it anyway.

He's slurring and dizzy and on the verge of passing out. Stupid doesn't begin to cover what stepping back is. Bruce stops him from going far by grabbing him by the wrist - fairly gently, or at least not with intentional roughness - then bodily picks him up into a 'bridal carry'.

"Stop resisting help." Again with the orders, and he should... actually abuse that more than he has. Then he goes back toward the bed and the pajamas.

...He hasn't been picked up, as opposed to slung over someone's shoulder while he was bleeding out, since he was a child. He's the one who does that.

Ands now he can't even squirm like an angry cat about it.

"Fuck that's irritating." Never mind how much steadier his voice sounds, now that he doesn't need to support any of his own weight.

"With any lucky," for himself, "you won't get used to it."

Nice addition to the contract, Dad.

He takes Zerxus to the bed and sits him down on the edge, and holds out the pajama bottoms, open at the waist. "Put your legs in." Still with the compulsion.

On the bright side, he can glare and pull pyjama bottoms on at the same time. Very pointedly, he grabs the shirt before he can be told to.

Preempting an order is still satisfying for Bruce, because it's done to spite him - or maybe he just likes the glare.

That said, he was going to leave the shirt out of the equation. Oh well, he'll 'let' that one slide.

He leaves Zerxus there (with a pat on the head) to go pull a pair of pajama pants on. It's the exact same pair, and he does leave his shirt off.

"Good. Now shift over." Not an order again, this time.

He should not, in this state, be thinking what if I bite him again.

Unfortunately that urge doesn't change when Bruce comes back, just...shifts. In ways he is not going to acknowledge.

He is very quick to shift over.

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