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The last thing Edward remembers is falling asleep at his desk in just a t-shirt and boxers and his batman socks while working on the latest letter for said Batman, his Batman. So, when he wakes in his bed, facing the wall, the next morning, he's more than freaked out. He blames it on an episode of sleepwalking.
Until he turns over and is met with The Batman taking up the whole door frame to his bedroom. He stills, eyes widening, reaching blindly to where he thinks his glasses are settled on his dresser, thankfully they are. Edward silently hopes that it's just his sleep paralysis demon.
It's not.
"You know who I am?" His voice sends chills down Edward's spine.
Edward nods.
"Sit up." Bruce orders and Edward complies immediately, knowing he can't win against a fight with The Batman. He moves to settle on his knees, hands clasp together on his lap, "You're smaller than you lead on, like you're some tough guy, when really I could break you with my pinkie." Bruce grunts out, pushing himself off the door frame and into the room, kicking the door shut with his boot.
"I, I think you could too." Edward says, laughing awkwardly, then blurting out, "You weren't supposed to find me so early into our game." He points a accusing finger at Bruce, then looks down at what he's doing, and rests his hand back on his lap.
Bruce keeps walking toward him and Edward can't help but shy away from his gaze, shuffling back until his back hits the wall and his knees were pressed to his chest. Bruce only stops when his knees have hit the edge of the bed, bending forward to be eye level with Edward.
"Game?" Bruce spits, "Those men you killed, murdered, that was a game to you?"
Edward opens his mouth to give some bullshit argument like, You're not even supposed to be here, Bruce Wayne, only to find Bruce's hand around his neck and his airway being squeezed shut. No words coming out and no air going in.
He squeezes tighter, eyes traveling up Edward's body in disgust before releasing him with a hard shove. Edward's head huts the wall and he whimpers, rubbing at it with a hand, "Lets play a game then, you and I." Bruce says, resting a knee on the bed to get into Edward's face, intimidating him further.
"For every person you've killed," Bruce reaches a hand toward an already trembling Edward, pinching the fabric of Edward's shirt between his thumb and finger, flicking it, "you take a piece of clothing off." He looks at Edward's face then, watching with pleasure as his eyes widen.
Edward's brows knit together in confusion, as if what he heard couldn't be right, "I'm sorry?"
Bruce reaches a hand forward, slowly encircling around one of Edward's calfs, and yanks his leg forward. The fingers of his other gloved hand hook over the edge of Edward's sock, ghosting touches leading halfway up his leg, "Who was the first?" Bruce asks, softly, so much so Edward almost doesn't hear him.
"The Mayor." Edward whispers, flinching when Bruce yanks his sock down and off, dropping his leg to the bed. He reaches for Edward's other leg in half the time, being less delicate this time, nearly yanking Edward's whole body forward as he takes Edward's other calf in his hands.
"Next?" Bruce asks, breathing slow and deep. Edward can tell he's keeping his anger at bay and he can only guess how long that'll last before he's beaten to a pulp, "NEXT?" Bruce's voice booms in the small room making Edward whimper.
"The Commissioner." Edward answers, he's not even half way through the answer before Bruce is yanking his second sock off and dropping his leg. Though immediately he's gripping both of Edward's knees and yanking them forward, bringing him closer, bringing his knee still on the bed settled between Edward's now spread legs.
He leans in so his face is a mere few inches from Edward's, "And lastly?" He growls.
"Gil Colson." Edward answers.
"I think that one deserves two pieces, don't
you think? Considering, you blew me up?" He grits out the words, already pulling the shirt around Edward's shoulders, forcing it up and over his head. His eyes flicker to the tent at the front of Edward's boxers, "Take them off." He orders.
Edward complies, a bit too willingly when Bruce removes his knees to allow him to get them off all the way. Bruce stands before him, looking down on him, and Edward can't help it when his cock twitches from the look Bruce is giving him and the burst of cold air. He covers his cock with his cold hands, pressing his thighs together, and staring down at his knees.
"Look at me." Edward looks up to meet Bruce's gaze, only to find Bruce's eyes aren't on him but on his body. Sliding down his slender frame and pale skin, "You disgust me." Bruce mumbles, sounding more-so like he's trying to convince himself of the fact.
Bruce suddenly turns, taking a seat in the only chair in Edward's room without a load of clothes on them and lounges on it, kicking his feet out and spreading his thighs. After crossing his arms over his chest he says, "Touch yourself, Riddler."
Edward's cheeks pink at the order.
"I don't have all day." Bruce sighs. Edward removes one hand, letting it ball up in the sheets next to his thigh and lets his other hand encircle around his cock, "Look at me while you're doing it." Bruce whispers, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
Edward's eyes meet his, shy and hooded. He gives his cock one stroke, then another, until he's squeezing at the base before each upstroke. Bruce's eyes are heavy on him, flicking between his eyes and his cock. Edward lets his mind wander, lets himself imagine Bruce's hand instead of his own, he imagine Bruce's hand choking him again. His fascinations are interrupted by a mocking laugh coming from the chair.
"I thought it would get bigger than that. No wonder you get off on killing people, no woman would ever fuck you with that tiny thing." Bruce is almost laughing now.
Edward lets out a trembling breath, stroking harder, faster. Bruce eyes him with a curious gaze, tilting his head, "Oh, really?" Bruce stands, chuckling, standing in front of Edward again but this time his hand settles on his belt, "You like it when I talk about your small cock?" Bruce asks.
Edward gives a tiny sound of assurance, knuckles white where's gripping the sheets, his other hand speeding up, "Are you gonna come already?" Bruce asks, somewhat bored and disappointed. Edward makes another sound of assurance.
"Then stop." Bruce orders and Edward's hand stalls on a delicious downstroke, his thighs twitch with the urge to keep going, "God, you really are pathetic. Are you a virgin?" When Edward doesn't respond Bruce laughs loudly again, his fingers working his belt as he throws his head back.
Taking a step back he says, "Get on your knees." And Edward complies, sliding down to his knees, his hands clutching at his own thighs, licking his lips embarrassingly, "You really want this." Bruce says in a slight daze before pulling his pants down just enough to get his cock out.
He holds his cock at the base with one hand and leans forward to use the other to grab the back of Edward's hair, gripping a handful of his hir and pulling him forward, "I'm going to ruin you, Nashton," Bruce says, promises, Edward shivers at the use of his name, "You're gonna suck my cock until I decide you're good enough to fuck." He says it matter-of-factly.
Edward's heart flutters.
"Stick your tongue out." Bruce orders and Edward complies immediately, sticking his tongue out in earnest, yearning to have Bruce Wayne's cock in his mouth, something he'd dreamed of for years. Bruce slaps the head of his cock on Edward's tongue only a few times before sliding it into the warm heat.
His hand tightens around Edward's hair, letting our a shuttering breath as he tilts his head back, "You're pretty like this." Bruce whispers when his eyes are back on the display in front of him, he pets Edward's hair, before gripping it again and thrusting forward, trapping Edward between the edge of the bed and Bruce's hips.
He pulls away and Edward coughs up a storm, a dribble of spit connect from his bottom lip to the head of Bruce's cock. Bruce laughs, airy and sweet and Edward blushes at the sound. He does it again, thrusting his cock deep into Edward's mouth with less warning and stays there longer. He only backs away when Edward starts shoving at his legs.
Edward struggles to catch his breath, hands on Bruce's armor clad thighs there more as a warning then to stop another moment caught off guard.
"Okay, enough of that." Bruce sighs, rolling his eyes before hooking his arms under Edward's and hauling him up onto the bed. He falls onto it like a rag doll, still struggling with his breath and swallowing around no more spit, coughing roughly.
Bruce doesn't seem to mind though, he flips Edward onto his stomach with ease, hauling his hips up and stuffing one of his overused pillows under his hips, trapping his cock between his stomach and the soft pillow case. A dip in the bed tells Edward that Bruce has settled behind him, cold gloved hands spreading his cheeks apart tells him what's going to happen next.
And he can't wait.
"Please." Edward gasps, voice wrecked, reaching behind blindly to try and coax Bruce's hips forward, to coax his cock inside, but all he gets is one of Bruce's hands clamping around both his wrists and holding them down on his back, using it at leverage as he sinks into Edward with no warning.
"Please what?" Bruce asks, sliding his cock over Edward's hole, between his cheeks.
"Please use me." Edward says, barely above a whisper.
The push is easy enough that Edward can feel lube was used but the stretch is difficult enough to give him the feeling of being torn in half. He lets out an embarrassing yelp, fighting against Bruce's hand still binding his wrists, "Fighting will only make it worse, Ed. Stay still and just take it." Bruce grits out, punching an air of breath out of Edward when he pushes forward his hips finally meet Edward's ass.
Edward has no time to adjust to the large stretch before Bruce is pulling out and driving forward with so much force that Edward feels tears welling up in his eyes. His mouth gaps, soft whimpers escaping. He wanted this, he still wants it, he wants it all, and that's what Bruce is giving him. Edward takes it with eyes squeezed shut, trying to stay silent, but Bruce's thrusts only get harder, as if trying to get more sounds out of Edward.
And soon he does, Edward lets a sob rip from his throat when Bruce's cock finds his prostate, abusing it over and over, forcing the tears from Edward's eyes because it's so much, too much, and it's so good, no toy could've prepared him for this. He sees stars, his cock rubbing between his stomach and the pillow feels the best its ever felt, he's full on sobbing now, trying his best to rock back onto Bruce's cock.
Bruce is laughing at him again, at some point he'd stopped thrusting, watching in awe as Edward worked back onto him, "Why are you crying, Edward? Isn't this what you wanted? Isn't it good?" He asks, mocking Edward by already knowing the answer.
"So good." Edward cries, losing his energy quickly with all the crying and laying still once again, "Please, please." He pleads, hoping Bruce starts up again. The first one catches him off guard but he's soon crying out when Bruce places his prostate again and again, over and over until Edward is coming with a drawn out whimper, making a mess of his pillow and his stomach.
Bruce fucks him through it and then continues, forcing little breaths from Edward's mouth because it's a lot. It's so much more than Edward had ever prepared for, Bruce continues to hit Edward's prostate as if he has the exact coordinates and he's flying straight into it, over and over and over again.
Edward sees stars. He lets out little huffs of air as to not black out and miss this experience he's been dreaming of for forever.
"Am I losing you?" Bruce jokes, keeping up his brutal pace, "Don't black out on me." Edward can hear the grin on Bruce's face, he opens his mouth to say something but the words die in his mouth when Bruce clasps a hand over the back of his neck squeezing there, leaning forward to gain come extra leverage and coming inside Edward with harsh grunts.
Edward's never felt so full. Just Bruce's cock inside him was enough to fill him up but paired with his come, Edward's cock twitches between the pillow and his stomach, rock hard, hoping to come again. But, just the though has Edward shivering, he'd only come minutes before, he's not that young anymore.
Bruce climbs off the bed with a sigh, leaving Edward trembling there, the ghost of Bruce's hands still on his neck and wrists. Edward keeps his face hidden by the bed, feeling the blush creep up his cheeks as the position he's in (open and leaking) is probably not flattering.
He still hasn't caught his breath when Bruce is grabbing the back of his head, gripping his hair, and pulling him up into a sitting position, "If I can find you, it's only a matter of time before the cops do." Bruce says, eyes connected to Edward's in a type of passion he can't pinpoint, "Get out of Gotham tonight or I'll pay you another visit." He whispers the warning.
That's not a threat, Edward wants to say, I want all you have to give. He nods instead, watching as Bruce disappears out his door. He finally catches his breath after several minutes and finds the energy to stand, finding his discarded clothes and shrugging them back on.
Edward sits at his desk, flips on the small light, and gets to work on his next card for The Batman.