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John Blake pushed through the wet streets of Gotham, with no real destination in mind. He had just needed to get out of the precinct, away from his superiors. It wouldn’t be the first time that he had left for air and it surely wouldn’t be the last. He was a beat cop, there would be plenty of times when he would need to take a moment.
He ran a hand through his slightly curling black hair, which had fallen from being slicked back. With a sound of annoyance, he shoved his hands into the pocket of his tan trench coat. The rain was washing the pomade from his hair, the water running in rivulets down his face and soaking through his jacket.
He let his breath escape him on a long huff, watching the white cloud form in the cool air. It seemed extremely quiet, with only the wind tearing through the towering buildings. His fingers twitched in his pocket, but he knew that a cigarette wouldn’t be worth it. The chill in his hands was slowly abating and pulling them out of his pockets
As if on cue, a loud crashing came from the alley that he was walking past, which caused him to pause. He cocked his head to the side, before wandering forward into the alley, a hand on the butt of his gun. Another burst of sound echoing down the alley had him drawing his H&K Glock Seventeen as he glided forward.
His dark brown eyes scanned the minimally lit alley, searching for what had made the sound. His gaze darted towards a flash of silver on the ground, but flew back ahead when all it was, was the spinning lid from a trash can. A slight rustle came from ahead, but the bouncing sound of footsteps came from all around.
A frown formed on his face, his eye brows knit together and he tried to figure out what exactly was going on. Trouble in the night was to be expected, he would be honestly shocked if it wasn’t some form of criminal behaviour. His eyes narrowed on a shadow darting ahead, it engulfed all of the light at the other end.
He jerked to a stop though when he felt cold metal press into the back of his head. Hot breathe on the back of his neck had him lowering his gun slightly. His back straightened and his shoulders stiffened. He blinked slowly, focusing on the person standing behind him. This didn’t happen often, he was generally aware of his surroundings, but he hadn’t even heard the person sneak up behind him.
“Curiosity killed the cat,” Blake would have rolled his eyes at the words if a gun wasn’t being pressed into the back of his head. The mocking voice was deep and wet. The man behind him smacked his lips together, before swallowing. His breath was thick and damp against his neck, but disappeared as he pulled away slightly. The gun pressed a little harder, but Blake was only thinking of how to get out of this mess.
“How original,” Blake muttered which earned him a slight smack against the back of his head with the barrel of the gun. He grimaced, but the contact was what he needed and the force hadn’t caused injury. When the contact happened, he spun in his polished shoes, the water making the movement easier. His hand shot out, slamming the man’s arm up and away.
A shot rang out, echoing loudly in his ears. The man was slim, with pale skin that stood out in the darkness and stringy blonde hair. Blake didn’t put much thought into what he was doing, he just moved. He grabbed the man’s wrist, jerked and watched as the gun clattered to the floor. The man’s eyes widened and Blake watched the shock wash over the man’s face. He hooked his foot around the man’s ankle and pulled back, forcing the man to fall onto his back.
Blake aimed his gun at the man, eyes narrowed and drawn down in annoyance. The man panted, his arms quivering and eyes bulging as he looked up. He toed the man’s gun down the alley and away from the guy on the ground. “I’m going to have to arrest you now.”
It was then that he noticed that the shadows seemed darker, thicker. He shifted slightly, studying the scrawny man on the ground, whose eyes were straying past him. Now if he wasn’t already having a bad day, knowing that someone was now standing behind him was what would tip the scale.
Blake swore inwardly, every foul word he knew was working its way through his head as he tried to determine how close the man behind him was. He hadn’t heard him coming up behind him either. What the fuck is wrong with me? He asked himself after a moment. He was having an off day: that had to be it.
Diagnosing that the person behind him was a bigger threat, he removed all of his focus from the man lying on the ground. He spun around, gun rising to aim at his new target. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the bulking man standing before him. “Oh shit.”
He took a step back, the heel of his shoe catching against the leg of the blond guy, who was still cowering. Blake steadied his grip on his gun, determined to have something between the brick building of a man standing in front of him and himself. The man may not have been intimidating height wise, but his muscles were thick and he made Blake seem small in comparison.
The darkness should have obliterated the details of the man’s muscle definition, but his skin stood out in the darkness. What caught Blake’s attention and sent a shiver of unease down his spine though: was the mask. The man was wearing a mask and the only detail that he could make out was the skulk, in white, on the front. It stood out like a beacon, a threatening ghost of grave warning. It wasn’t anything that Blake recognized.
His hands quivered a little and he considered shooting, but his mind was frozen. He had never been in a situation like this. He had heard that Gotham attracted strange people: he knew because he had seen all of the news reports when the Joker had been running rampant. He was lucky to have missed that catastrophe, having been transferred in afterwards to fill the empty spaces left by dead cops.
A low, amused, chuckle pulled him out of his thoughts and he jerked a little to realize he had been standing there staring. He steadied his aim and locked his gaze on the behemoth of a man before him. The man shifted a little, shadows dancing over his exposed skin: blending and dispersing. “I suggest that you lower the gun.”
The man behind Blake croaked a sound of warning, but Blake had no time to realize what was happening. One second he was aiming his weapon and the next the huge man was moving. The pain that bounced off of the side of his skull had him flying to the side, rattled and disoriented. He hit a brick wall, knocking into the fallen trashcan lid and sending it clattering down the alley.
He slumped forward, weapon lost somewhere between standing and hitting cement. He blinked slowly, vision morphed and blurry, from the pain pulsing through his head.
He watched as the large man, now nothing more and a fluctuating blur of light and dark, moved forward, bending down slightly to pick up the scrawny man. Now if Blake had felt dwarfed by the huge man, the twig like, blond man, was absolutely puny. They morphed together as he watched, blurred by his waning vision.
He heard the light rasp of words being exchanged, then a light yelp, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying. The pain in his head reduced the sounds to nothing more than two tones: deep and high. He could distinguish that the low, deep, accented baritone belonged to the monstrous man and that the high, panicked voice was the blond. It was the only connection he was capable of.
Blake gave a low moan of pain, trying to lift his hands to cradle his head, but the effort to lift them up drained him. He felt, rather than saw, two eyes turn their attention to him at his sound of pain. It sent a prickle down his spine, but the gaze quickly left. The panicked voice rose, piercing through his skull, but the blurry figures were now covered by dark splotches.
A loud crack and scream tore through the night; forcing another pained moan from Blake. A low thump and then footsteps mingled together, taking the last of his focus and soothing him slowly into unconsciousness. Something brushed against his jacket, pushing it aside and searching.
“John Blake,” the voice was audible. It might have been because the words were purred directly into his ear, or that maybe he had enough strength to listen to words directed to him. Blake slouched forward, his eyes shuttering closed. “Welcome to Gotham City.”
:: ::
“An anonymous civilian phoned it in,” a voice cut through the darkness. Blake struggled to open his eyes, clinging to the sounds in the room. He squinted, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. He noticed the outlines of two men standing in front of the doorway, backlit by the light filtering in from the hallway. “He stumbled in on something nasty. The man’s back was shattered, that wasn’t normal.”
“He was also left alive wish isn’t normal,” this voice he recognized as Commissioner Gordon. Black pushed himself up, hissing when his head thundered. The pain he could deal with, he was used to it. It was the sudden wave of nausea and the way his vision wavered that threw him off. “Look who’s awake. That means that we can ask a direct source. How’s your head officer?”
“Brilliant,” Blake muttered as he raised a hand to tenderly prod at the right side of his head. Even the feather light touch sent enough agony through his system to draw a light gasp from him He dropped his hand and looked up at the Commissioner, who was hovering at the end of his hospital bed. He opened his mouth to ask ‘how long have I been out?’, but Gordon beat him to the words.
“You’ve been out for a couple of hours. An anonymous tip came in that there had been a murder, so we sent a patrol car down to check it out. They found you and a blond victim. Doc says that you have a concussion,” Gordon as answering all of the questions Blake had. It was a sign that the Commissioner was used to dealing with cops in the hospital. “Blake, do you remember what happened in the alley tonight?”
“Yes,” Blake nodded slightly. He watched as the man beside Gordon pulled out a notebook and pen. “I was walking when I heard a crash coming from the alley, so I went to investigate what it was. A blond, scrawny man pressed a gun to my head, but I broke away and managed to get him to the ground. The blond was staring past me, so I spun around. There was a man standing behind me, he was fucking huge. He smacked me out of the way and I guess I hit the wall. I’m not really sure what conspired between the blonde and the big guy: I couldn’t focus. The big guy was wearing a mask and he had a light accent. He... I think he said ‘Welcome to Gotham City’.”
“He knew that you were new to town.” Gordon muttered after a minute. Blake nodded his head in agreement, realizing that whoever the man had been, he was paying attention. Nothing that he had been carrying, his ID mainly, had noted at him being new to town. He was one of the many cops in Gotham, someone who didn’t stand out, hell he was a beat cop. His ID. He blinked at the thought, remembering that the man had indeed rifled through his jacket, before saying his name out loud. The man hadn’t been wearing any gloves.
“We’re checking the scene, but it was raining and most of the evidence has been washed away.” Gordon stated and Blake for some reason kept his mouth closed. He didn’t know why he wasn’t saying anything about the possibilities of having finger prints. “Call me if you remember anything else.”
“Yeah,” Blake croaked as he watched the two men leave the room. His hands clenched in the blankets as he listened to the door click shut. His eyes shot to the bag resting beside him and he could see the corner of his wallet sticking out of the top. He couldn’t understand his motives to keeping the information to himself, but that didn’t stop him from keeping his lips closed.
:: ::
Blake walked through the precinct, a week after his release from the hospital and a week after dropping the fingerprint from his wallet off at the lab. He had gotten a call from the guy down in the basement saying that he had found a match. Blake was glad to drop everything and go see what Erik had found for him.
He pushed open the lab door and sent a small smile to Erik, who had his face buried in piles and piles of notes. He looked up and grinned when he saw Blake. He looked back down at his research, hands searching through the papers. He withdrew a manila folder with a sound of triumph.”This is all of it.”
“His name is Bane, no last name.” Erik announced as he handed the folder over. “The devil’s all in the details. Bane was born in Caribbean Republic of Santa Prisca: nothing interesting there. Here’s where it gets fascinating. His father was set to serve a life sentence, but he managed to escape the court system, so the system made his son live out his sentence in Pena Dura. The kid grew up in the system. Fun fact: when he was a kid, he used to carry around a teddy bear named Osito. The teddy bear had a knife in its back so that the kid could protect himself from other inmates.”
“He established himself in the system, becoming king of his prison. There are notes about how he was beyond smart and that he was abnormally strong. He adapted to being in prison, all the while training his body and mind. At the end, he just dropped off their records completely and there’s nothing more about him. Where did you manage to get a print?” Erik briefly went over the noted that he had handed to Blake. He nodded, knowing that Erik was giving him the important bits and that he would only have to gloss over the second half of the man’s life: before he dropped off the face of the earth.
“Long story Erik. Thanks for looking it up for me; I’ll get back to you if I have anything else. Say hi to Maria for me.” Blake smiled, only to see Erik shake his head. He chuckled, knowing that the lab tech would be telling him that Maria was long gone and that he was seeing some new girl.
“Maria didn’t like that I worked long hours, so she bit the dust. I’m seeing a reporter, her name is Marie.” Erik smiled dreamily, absently staring past Blake. The cop gave a light, amused laugh, pulling the lab tech from his thoughts. “She’s lovely anyways. You’ll have to come and meet here soon.”
“I’ll have to do that,” Blake responded. He turned and left the room, heading towards the stairs that led to the main floor. He tucked the folder under his arm and left the precinct swiftly. The research was for a growing curiosity that he can’t understand.
He pulled his jacket tightly around him, trying to ward of the chill sweeping through the city. He glances upwards at the storming sky, night falling quickly. His footsteps echoed between the tall buildings surrounding the area, clipped and steady. He was glad that his shift was done and that he could go to his apartment.
He hurried down the side walk, not trusting the sky to not unleash a torrent of rain. Being soaked through was not something that he was fond of.
Blake’s steps faltered when he felt a chill race down his spine, familiar in how it sent a slice of fear through his system. He slowed to a stop, eyes tracing the outlines of alleys and shadowed doorways, but he noticed nothing out of the ordinary. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose with the hand that wasn’t holding the folder and hissed a curse. “Shit, I’m going nuts.”
“No, you’re not going crazy,” the words rolled from the alley beside him and Blake jerked his head to the side. He felt the blood drain from his face as he noticed the man within the alley. His hands tightened on the folder, as if he can use it to defend himself.
“Bane,” Blake greeted, his voice a little higher.
“I see that you’ve been doing your research John, very commendable. There’s still more to learn though, isn’t there?” Bane’s accent danced seductively through the air. It was an invite, a challenge. Fear was racing through Blake’s body, but curiosity was controlling his mind. After a long hesitation, he turned and stepped into what he hoped wouldn’t be his death. The alley’s opening greeted him like a mouth opening up and swallowing him into darkness.
Blake shivered as he moved forward, splashing through the puddles on the ground. He faltered, but he continued into the alley. Fear was something that he was familiar with, it was a daily part of life when working on the force. He was normally so careful, choosing the most effective route to get to an end. What he was doing now was just rushing into a situation to satisfy a strange need to know. He wasn’t even sure what information he was seeking.
The reason’s left him clueless, which sent a current of unease through him He had literally been thrown into a wall by the man and all he wanted to do was figure it out. The threat of being thrown into a wall again was at the back of his mind, yes, but it wasn’t taking his full focus.
He was led further back into the alley, pupils dilating to accommodate for the lack of light. The flashes of pale, smooth skin, directed him as to where Bane was and which direction he should move. He could hear the sound of cars passing from the street behind them and his own, loud, breathing.
His mind worked through anything that he wanted to know, and then moved to why Bane was allowing him to follow him, to why Bane had sought him out. For all intents and purposes, Bane should have killed him that first night, but in fact he was still alive. His thoughts jerked back to the present when a hand was pushing against his chest, stopping him.
Bane pulled his hand back and waved a finger in front of Blake’s nose. He had the distinct feeling that Bane had an amused look on his face, under the mask, but he couldn’t be sure. He had an analytical mind and anything that went against the grain easily threw him off. Bane was throwing him off, because criminals weren’t supposed to be like this. “You aren’t allowed to think over it John.”
“Your hearts pounding in your chest, your thoughts are racing and you can’t control your breathing. Your body want to follow your flight instinct, but your curiosity is getting the best of you. You’re asking yourself who is he? What is he? Those are questions that you want to ask me, but you have questions that you’re asking yourself. Why are you so curious? Why are you still here? Why is your body flushing with heat?” Bane’s voice dropped into a low purr in the silence of the night. Blake’s breathe stuttered from his lungs, eyes wide as he stared at the masked man pinning him to the brick wall with only a hand. He had been read so easily by the man, observations he had been trying to ignore himself.
“Attraction is a dangerous thing pet,” Bane stated. Then as Blake stood there, body quivering slightly, Bane removed his hand. He stood there as large hands smoothed over his shoulder and then down to his hips. The much larger man leaned forward until he was speaking right into Blake’s ear. “Danger is probably the reason you’re panting darling. Danger is why you’ve been looking into my past. Danger is what I can give you.”
One of Bane’s hands left his hip and he vaguely heard a light snap. He remained still and watched as the large man pulled back slightly. Grey eyes glittered in amusement as Blake stared up into the unmasked face. He felt his mouth go dry and he raised a hand to trace one of the scars on the man’s face. Full lips quirked under his fingers, a low laugh escaping the man. “Not the face of a monster is it?”
“Oh fuck,” Blake swore and swallowed deeply, eyes glued to the handsome face hovering in front of his own. “Fuck.”
"That’s exactly it love," Bane muttered darkly. His lips curled into a twisting smirk, terrifying and oddly seductive. Blake opened his mouth to say something, but Bane only waved a finger in front of his face: stopping him from saying anything. "I'm not looking for some logical response. Illogical is even worse. I'm just looking for a way to remove an itch and you seemed to be a willing participant."
"Now I'll answer all of your questions, but not all at once." Bane settled his hands back on Blake's shoulders and slid them under the curve of his jacket. He cocked his head and pushed the jacket off of his slim shoulders to the ground, gauging his reaction. "I'll also consider your lines, because I'm not psychotic as some have come to believe."
Blake nodded, swallowing deeply again. He considered everything, but all thoughts slipped through his fingers like water. Instead of pushing the criminal away like he should be doing: he moved his hand from the man’s face and dug it into the cloth on the man’s shoulder. "Understood."
"Good," Bane smiled and pushed into the smaller cop. He lifted him, propping him up on his hip and hooked a hand under his shirt. He raked nails up his side, lifting the cloth with an almost lazy movement. "You've already discovered my name, which is a good place to work from."
Bane glanced down at the fallen folder that held all the information that Erik had been able to find. He returned his gaze, blue grey eyes amused and glittering in the darkness. "There wasn't much to be found was there? You only got the basics about who I was born, where I grew up and a few tidbits from my past. Honestly not enough to work from. There's no psychological evaluation, there's nothing on how I got out or why I suddenly seemed to disappear into the system."
He shifted his hips, smirk growing. Blake jerked with a low groan, legs hooking around the other man’s hips to hold on. His hands scrabbled for purchase on the man’s wide shoulders, muscles flexing under his fingers. His weight was easily supported by muscles that rippled with every movement that Bane made. The dim moonlight filtering down from between the small spaces left by the towering buildings that surrounded them glanced off of his skin: giving him tantalising glimpses.
He was staring, transfixed, when he felt the light nip at his jaw line. Crooked teeth scrapped lightly over his skin, forcing a cold shiver to run down his spine. The low chuckle in his ear had his hips twitching and he felt his face burn with embarrassment. He was like some horny teenager who couldn’t control his body. Aside from the teenager part, that was exactly what he was though. The first patter of rain started, causing ripples to form in the puddles at Bane’s feet.
“I disappeared because a scientist wanted to experiment with a new drug and the warden allowed it.” Bane purred into his ear thickly. The words should have at least held a dark tone, or some kind of emotion that wasn’t pure sex: but they didn’t. They instead forced a gasp from Blake and he allowed thick fingers to unbutton his shirt. He left the tie alone, left the shirt hanging from his shoulders and ran his hands over toned, pale skin so unlike his own.
It made both men wonder: the difference between the two of them in both shape and mind. Blake was slight, fragile looking; while Bane was ripped muscles and large form. The cop was generally a person who made smart decisions and didn’t go looking for trouble; while his counterpart was a genius, who was trouble.
Bane unbuckled Blake’s belt, unzipping his black slacks and slipping a large hand past the waist band of his briefs. He took the cops cock into his hand, eliciting a sharp moan and another twist of slim hips. He ran his fingers over the length, teeth grazing the other man’s ears as he worked out his next words. He was telling a story, developing it in an interesting way that would have Blake listening, even as Bane fucked him senseless. His next words were carefully chosen, because they were the most important. “It all started with Venom.”
Bane smirked, watching Blake through lowered lashes. He cocked his head to the side, studying and calculating. The cop writhed as he slid his fingers over his cock, rocking his hips forward in an attempt to find some kind of friction. He listened to Blake grunt, his fingers flexing in the neck of Bane’s shirt. He knew that even while John was writhing beneath him, the cop was paying attention to every word he said. “I was the perfect specimen to test a new drug on: venom. It almost killed me.”
“It didn’t though, so it was successful?” Blake asked on a gasp, his hips canting forward. Bane chuckled lowly, moving his hand to the base of Blake's cock and Blake made a noise, low in his throat. He slide his hand all the way up, slow and loose, dragging his fingers gently across the head and Blake shuddered against him, again, pressing his cock into Bane’s hand, his muscles tensing and untensing.
“In a way: they were unprepared for the physical dependency.” Bane slid his hand back down to the base, then up again, touching his fingers to the head again and listened to Blake choke. He smirked at the growing slickness. Blake tightened his grip, sliding slow again, letting his thumb catch under the crown of Blake's cock.
"Dependency?" Blake said into skin of Bane’s neck, trying to find some way to ground himself.
"Yes, a rather brutal one at that. Withdrawal is a rather ugly choice between taking venom or stopping.“ Bane said in response.
"C'mon," Blake suddenly hissed and his hips moved with Bane's hand. Bane got the message and began to quicken his movements a little, turning his wrist at just the right place to make Blake gasp. He tightened his griped just a little at the base, faster and slicker and faster and faster until Blake inhaled sharply. His hand stilled and he squeezes, which earned a low keening noise as Blake tried to find some form of release. “Shit, shit, shit, you fucking bastard.”
“Mm, I’m not done telling my story John. We can’t have you finishing before me,” Bane purred into his ear, slipping his hand from around Blake’s cock. He kept Blake pinned to the grimy alley wall, aware that he himself was painfully hard. Of course that was a motivator, but not the biggest one. Twisting the cop around his fingers was by far more amusing.
“Fuck you,” Blake snapped on a groan. He writhed, but he couldn’t find the friction to get himself off. His fingers curled and uncurled, sliding their way around Bane’s neck and clawing at the exposed skin. His nails scrapped against something at the back of his neck, but his mind is too unfocused to actually pay any mind to the metal against his finger tips.
“We’ll get there,” Bane smiled, revealing his crooked teeth again. He trailed his hand up, cupping Blake’s jaw in his hand so that he could tilt the cops face up to look at him. His pale, sharply carved face was drawn tight: his lips pulled downward and trembling and his eyes narrowed, but pupils blown wide. Even in the dim light, the man was oddly beautiful. It made Bane finally agree that ‘Yes, fucking with this cop was worth the time’.
Bane spread open the Blake’s jacket and started unbuttoning his loose grey shirt. He slid his fingers into the waist of the cops slim fitted slacks and briefs, before pushing them over his hips. Blake stepped out of his socks and slacks without hesitation, not caring that the fabric was getting wet. Bane wrapped his hand under his thigh and hiked him up. Blake wrapped his legs around Bane’s hips, his legs spread wide to encompass him.
Bane ran a hand down his thigh, coming to a stop when his hand encountered a black band at the top of his calf. He shot an amused look upwards, eyes glinting as he fingered the metal clip on his sock suspenders. He hadn’t seen the attraction to sock suspenders before, but the way they set off Blake’s pale legs and made his legs seem longer, was oddly intriguing. Blake turned red, his head jerking to the side in an attempt to avoid Bane’s scrutiny. “I think we’ll leave these on.”
Blake looked back, eyes narrowing. Bane removed his hand from the suspenders and cupped his face in his hand again. He ran his thumb over the skin, chasing the slight crimson color of his blush. He dropped his hand and slid it along his ribs and then over his back. He held brown eyes with his grey ones as he traced his hand over the exposed curve of Blake’s ass.
“Hm, where did we leave off?” Bane asked as he traced his dry fingers along Blake’s perineum, before dragging them across the puckered ring of muscles just beyond it. Bane pushed his hips forward, pinning Blake to the wall effectively so that he couldn’t twist, thrust or jerk his hips in an attempt to hurry it up. Bane enjoyed taking his time, enjoyed bringing people down to a mindless messes. “Yes, I know where we left off. Venom increased my strength and it thankfully didn’t affect my intelligence, which helped in my escape. Of course, I could have planned my escape years ago, but I had nothing to worry about there. I had made myself a comfortable life there.”
“Becoming a science project was not my choice in ‘comfortable’ though, which led to me finally leaving Pena Dura.” Bane continued with his story, the name of the prison where he had spent his childhood, escaping his lips on a seductive whisper. He pulled his hand away from Blake’s arse, much to the cop’s dismay. He groped around in the pocket of his pants, until his hand finally found the slim container he had shoved in there earlier. “I traveled from then on, taking in sights and such. I had never before seen the world like that. I had only seen it in books before.”
“Gotham though: she called to me when I heard about her. This city did nothing but survive in the face of everything that tested her. Then there was her dark knight, her dubious politics and demented criminals. How could I resist?” Bane flicked the cap on the container in his hand as he asked the question, not expecting an answer.
“I wormed my way in through the bottom, starting with the homeless, and then moving to the dealers. It was all so easily, moving my way up the ladder as I dug around in search of information. I’m comfortable in my standing right now, high enough to have power, but low enough that I can go unnoticed until I want to reveal myself.” He squirted the lube onto his hand and dropped the container into the front pocket of Blake’s coat. He rubbed it onto his fingers slowly, before tracing a sloppily wet finger down the curve of Blake’s ass again.
He smirked as he looked back at the cop, watching widening eyes as he took in his words. He didn’t give him time to think them over, before he was sliding a finger into him quickly. He watched Blake’s eyes roll back, his mouth fall open on a choked gasp and his hips buck. “You see, I’m almost ready to reveal myself and I’ll take every one down when I do it.”
Bane pushed the digit in, until it was sheathed down to the knuckle, making Blake hiss quietly in pain. Bane pushed it in and out, fucking Blake with one finger before adding another. Scissoring and stretching the cop in preparation. Blake started panting, his hand going down to his own arousal, wanting some form of release. Bane noticed this and batted his hand away, making it rest on the alley wall.
Bane thought of the hot flesh clinging to his knuckles, curling his fingers enough to stroke Bane's prostate. Bane smiled at how Blake whimpered as he idly passed over the gland. It was a slow sonata to his ears, listening to Blake gasp.
When Bane decided that Blake was stretched enough, he removed his two fingers, which made Blake whimper from the lack of contact. He chuckled in amusement as the cop writhed against him, but he took his time slowly sliding his pants down his hips with his clean hand. He palmed his own cock with the hand covered in lube, smoothing it over swollen red flesh with a grunt. He contemplated the condom in his pocket, but he really didn’t care at that moment. All Bane wanted to do was to be sheathed in Blake’s tight ass.
Bane hiked Blake’s thighs up higher and with his free hand, soaked in a mix of Blake’s pre-come and lub, spread the cop open for him. He led the tip of his cock to Blake’s entrance, giving a satisfied him when he pushed in. Blake hissed from the intrusion and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.
Bane kept pushing until he was fully encased inside of Blake. He stopped, panting, letting Blake get used to his size. He may be a bastard most of the time, but he was sure this was painful and wanted Blake to get accustomed to him before pulling out. He started stroking Blake’s sides to get him to calm down, and relax.
Blake finally nodded his head, a clear sign for Bane to continue. Bane pulled out halfway before slamming back into Blake, grunting from the tightness. He did this a couple more times, before pulling out so the only thing in Blake was his tip. H slammed his hips forward. It caused Blake to cry out, a cry that was mixed between pain and pleasure.
Bane continued this rhythm before he heard the tell tale signs of Blake getting closer to the edge. He moved his hand from Blake's hips to Blake's manhood. He started stroking hard and fast. Blake's breathing became laboured and hard; he cried out again and shot his semen over their abdomens, Bane's hand and his hiked legs. His muscles contracting around Bane, making his already tight hole tighter. Bane's thrusts started to become erratic and un-even as his neared his climax, grunting as he shot his load inside of Blake. He rode out his orgasm and pulled out after a few seconds making Blake whimper from the loss of contact.
Bane leaned forward into Blake, bracing them against the alley wall in an attempt to keep them steady. Blake’s thighs shook around his hips, sliding down slowly. The cops face was pressed into the thick shoulder in front of him, breathing in the slight smell of sweat and something muskier. His body trembled and his ass tightened in an attempt to keep Bane’s come inside him, filling him. It was an odd sensation, something that he had never experienced before. He could barely breathe from the bout of rough, wall sex. “Fuck.”
“Mm, that we did pet,” Bane purred into his ear and finally pulled back. He let Blake slide to the ground, placing a hand on the man’s slim shoulder and pressing him back into the wall so he didn’t collapse. He himself was already steady and it allowed him to take in the fucked out expression on the cops face. His jacket and shirt were hanging loose, revealing a strip of pale flesh that he traced with his eyes. He tracked his eyes back up, a smirk on his face. “You ready for another round or do you need to go home and recover?”
“Shut up,” Blake breathed into his shoulder, his body quivering with a light laugh. He didn’t know how he had gotten into this situation, but he was pretty sure that he must have lost his sanity to have gone along with it. “Just stop talking.”
“I don’t really feel like stopping pet,” Bane responded as he took the tail end of Blake's shirt and wiped his hand and cock clean of come and lube. Blake ignored the gesture, still trying to figure out what they had done. He scrubbed a hand down his face, now supporting himself against the wall. He let his eyes flicker upwards: watching as Bane pulled his mask back on, hiding his rugged face. It sent a shiver down the cop’s spine, because when he had taken it off, he had at least seemed a little normal and relatable.
"That was a pleasant waste of an hour," Bane purred as he hiked up his pants. Blake could practically hear the smirk on the man’s face, even if he couldn't see it. He dropped his gaze to the ground, the coolness of the night finally seeping into his exposed limbs. He shivered as he leaned forward, bending down to pick up his shed clothing.
Bane leaned back against the alley wall, watching as Blake stepped into his briefs, pants and then his shoes. He straightened, buttoning up his slacks and then working on his shirt. His slightly numb fingers trembled as he started buttoning up his shirt, avoiding looking at Bane as he did so. He readjusted his jacket and picked up the soaking wet file from the ground. He didn’t look up until a hand traced the curve of his shoulder.
His gaze swung around, glancing up sharply at Bane. He felt his mouth draw down into a severe frown. He fell still, waiting to see what he would do, waiting to hear what he would say. Bane didn’t say anything for the longest time, just watched the cop with a mix of amusement and scrutiny. “It’s generally a cop’s duty to take in the criminals.”
“It is,” Blake snapped back, which earned him a low chuckle. He glared, hands shivering at his side. He didn’t know why he was trying to pick a fight with him. Bane put a hand on Blake’s head and ruffled his hair.
“Well then, I’ll just pretend that you were off duty. I look forward to our future meetings John.” Bane drawled as he turned and left the alley. Blake took a step forward, following after him, but as soon as he was out of the alley, he realized that Bane was long gone.
He stood on the sidewalk, watching the cars drive past, splashing the puddles through the air and to the ground. Blake stood frozen for a moment, before starting down the side walk to his apartment. There was no way he was going back to the station when his clothing was soaked through and he had a sticky mixture of come and lube running down his legs.
He grimaced in disgust as he slid the folder under his arm and shoved his hand into the pockets of his jacket. He didn’t know what Bane had meant by future meetings, but he hoped that they didn’t meet again. Blake shook his head and felt in his gut that they would probably meet again. He just wasn’t sure what context their next meeting would be in.
Fin