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lunasfics · 6 months

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Thunderstorms - Bruce Wayne

Summary: There was a period of silence, your feet making soft splashes in the puddles below you, his steps were silent next to you. Your grip on the cape around you tightened when the loud rumbling on thunder sounded above you, you felt Bruce’s hand over your back, it grounded you.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none

a/n: I'm like. not super happy with how this turned out. but i hope someone likes it. i saw a picture bruce and he looked absolutely scrumptious and I was inspired to write some fluff for him. ALSO SO SORRY FOR THE INACTIVITY IVE BEEN BUSY. and also. writers block is a bitch. so yeah, i am trying to get better with updates though!!

reblogs are appreciated!

You sighed, standing under a ledge just outside your work building, wrapping your arms around yourself to conserve the little warmth you had. The rain pelted down onto the concrete mercilessly, the cold, harsh winds hindering the ledge you were under from really doing much to help. The fresh scent of rain washing away the grime on the concrete filled your nostrils, the cool air nipping at your skin. Of course, Gotham’s usually unbelievably bad weather just had to be at its worst when you get off work, after the building closes, during the one point in time you don’t have a car. Wonderful.

You weren't sure what you were waiting for honestly, you had considered calling him. But thought better of it. He was busy on patrol, he always was. Besides, it had been about two weeks since you’d seen your boyfriend, and although it did hurt you, you understood. Or you at the very least tried your best to. You’d decided long ago to not lie to yourself, you understood Bruce’s endeavor, but you also understood that you have every right to feel upset over it. To feel hurt. It wasn’t an easy endeavor, you knew that, you’d only wished he’d reach out and let you in.

You winced as the loud rumbling of thunder sounded through the sky. You had always hated thunderstorms, the thugs and criminals of Gotham didn’t scare you, Batman didn’t scare you, neither did the vigilantes who worked with him; but thunderstorms just… terrified you.

As you contemplated your options, you decided you’d just wait it out, you’d much rather sit still in a thunderstorm than have to navigate your way through it.

You dug your hands into the pockets of your jacket trying to keep warm, as you shuffled back against the wall. Your head shot up at the familiar swoosh sound of someone landing silently not far from you. You turned towards the sound, where you saw Batman looking at you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, you were surprised, Bruce didn’t usually patrol this area until the later hours of the night. You had learned not long after your relationship started which patrol routes he would usually take, you figured he would be somewhere on the east side of Gotham.

His lips pressed into a line before he spoke, “You’re afraid of thunderstorms. Your car is getting repaired tonight.”

You nodded, your eyes never leaving the white lenses of his cowl.

He cleared his throat before approaching you, removing his cape and draping it over you gently, it was heavy. It smelled like cedar wood and mint, the scent of the body wash you bought for him not long ago, and the faint smell of gunpowder, you lifted it over your head to form a makeshift hood, the thick fabric of the large cape still swallowed you. When you seemed ready he walked alongside you as you made the route towards your apartment.

He spoke again, his voice quiet, “You could have called me. I would have come sooner.”

You shook your head, “I thought you were on patrol. I’m surprised you’re here, honestly. It’s been awhile.”

He seemed to tense a bit, only for a split second, but you noticed. You chose not to acknowledge it.

“Hm.” He gave a nod, as you continued along the sidewalk towards your apartment building, walking in silence. You looked at him on more than one occasion. He seemed to be contemplating what to say before speaking again, “I…I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He paused for a moment, rather awkwardly, like he really wasn’t sure how to go about what he wanted to say. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was nervous. Leave it to you to make Batman nervous.

He cleared his throat again, before speaking, “I haven’t been giving you a relationship that you deserve, I’ve been prioritizing this,” he gestured to his suit, “over us. For that I’m sorry.”

You nodded, indicating you were acknowledging his words. There was a period of silence, your feet making soft splashes in the puddles below you, his steps were silent next to you. Your grip on the cape around you tightened when the loud rumbling on thunder sounded above you, you felt Bruce’s hand over your back, it grounded you. You looked at him, the corners of his mouth tilted downwards in concern.

You took a moment before responding, “I understand. I know it’s… a lot. Just, maybe a call every few days couldn't hurt? Instead of, you know, disappearing on me.”

His gaze was still fixed on you as he nodded, clearing his throat, he spoke again, “I should have been doing that to begin with.”

You nodded, “You should have, but I could’ve done more to reach out. I should’ve established those boundaries.”

He looked at you, for a moment, the slightest hint of surprise adorned his visible features, “You aren’t in the wrong here.”

You shrugged, “Maybe not as much as you, but relationships are a two-way street, we both have to try, and I wasn’t doing my part. Not as much as I should have been.”

He nodded, you noted the way his shoulders relaxed.

“I would like to mention however, now that these boundaries are set, you can’t pull that on me again. You need to talk to me, Bruce. You can't just disappear on me and expect me to just be okay with it.”

He nodded again, his eyes not leaving yours, you could feel his stare through the cowl, “I’ll do that, I’ll do better,” he promised.

You smiled, opening the door to your apartment building, it was late in the evening, no one in the building tended to wander about at this time of night. You looked over at him, tilting your head to invite him into the building, before continuing towards the elevator, pressing the upwards arrow. You turned and he was right next to you. His mouth was pressed into a line, the corner of his lip moving in a way that told you he was in thought.

The elevator right up to your floor was quiet. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you. That was one thing you’d liked about being with him, you didn’t have to talk constantly to maintain a comfortable space.

When you reached the door you unlocked it, stepping through and folding the heavy cape in your arms. You turned around and took in the sight of Bruce, right outside your door, there in his bat suit, without a cape he looked kind of…naked. It was kind of funny, if you were being honest. He stood there, awkward in a way that only you could make him, he wasn’t one to fidget, but you could see the way his gloved hand twitched ever so slightly, as if he wanted to.

Initially, when you first started dating Bruce, you were reluctant, his reputation was known to most in Gotham, and his sincerity, in your eyes, was just a facade.

So imagine your surprise when you not only agree to a date, but during said date, he takes you to a quiet little cafe, and is oddly… timid? You were undoubtedly perplexed, as gone was his playboy persona; and it drew you to him, his reserved personality captivated you, because you knew it was genuine. That was the day you really met Bruce Wayne.

You eyed him standing awkwardly at your door, before asking, “Well, would you like to come in?”

He nodded, clearing his throat before entering your small apartment, shutting your door quietly behind him.

“You weren’t planning on going back on patrol after this?”

He shook his head, removing his cowl as he spoke, “It’s a slow night, Gordon can handle it,” he met your eyes, revealing the icy blue color that you love so much, offering you a small grin, “I want to spend time with you.”

You raised an eyebrow, “What about Alfred?”

His lip quirked up into a small smile, “He told me I should ‘get over myself and go see you before I lose what is quite possibly the best thing to ever happen to me’, he also said he was getting sick of me locking myself in the cave.”

You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his arms wrap themselves securely around your waist, leaning into the familiar closeness, “Alfred is a smart man.”

“He is, I suppose even he needs a break sometimes.”

“I can imagine, I’ll have to write him a thank you card for keeping you in check,” you laughed softly.

“He’d love that, I'm sure,” he huffed a small laugh.

You giggled, planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth, pulling away to meet his eyes again, “So you’re staying the night, but take a shower, you smell like sweat.”

He nodded. He went over to your bedroom, probably to grab some of his spare clothes kept there, when he wasn't so hyper-focused on his mission, he spent a lot of time there in between patrols. It wasn’t long before you heard the water running. You moved from your place in the living room, deciding to change into your sweats.

You plopped yourself onto your bed, your shut windows thankfully covered the storm that was outside, you buried yourself under the blankets. You flicked on your lamp, encasing the room with a warm glow, pulling out and reading a book you were halfway through, not closing it until you heard the shower turn off, the bathroom door opened not long after.

You looked over to see Bruce, his hair fell over his forehead in damp clumps, his towel strung over his shoulder over the old band t-shirt he had on, his sweatpants hung loosely on his frame. He set the towel down to dry before climbing into the other side of the bed.

You shut the book in your hand, setting it aside before opening your arms, allowing him to shuffle himself closer, he leaned over you and shut off the light. You felt his weight on top of you, his arms wrapping around you, his head comfortably on your chest. You ran your fingers through his damp hair, enjoying the quiet moment.

He lifted his head, his blue eyes meeting yours, “Move into the manor with me.”

You stopped, “What?”

He shifted, propping himself on his elbows, “Move in with me.”

“Are you sure? For someone who has contingencies for his contingencies, you can be incredibly impulsive.”

He nodded, “I’ve been thinking about it for the past month at least. I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, move into the manor with me.”

There was a moment of silence while you processed, though he seemed to interpret your silence as a form of rejection, “Of course, if you don’t feel ready that’s okay, we can take this at your pace, we can always—”

“Bruce.”

He stopped, his full attention on you.

“I would love to move into the manor with you.”

He smiled, genuine and bright, you felt as if you were looking into the warmth of the sun, the best part— this was the smile he saved only for you.