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It was a relatively calm Saturday afternoon in the Wayne manor. For once, there were no urgent missions that required Bruce’s constant attention. Bruce was happy to focus his energy on less stressful vigilante work that involved smaller-scale criminals. Preventing bank-robberies was almost a relaxing task, compared to what he was dealing with not so long ago.
Bruce was just finishing the examination of the latest gadget Tiffany had sent him when Alfred’s voice came from the speakers.
“Sir, you have a visitor upstairs.“
A visitor? He wasn’t expecting anyone.
“Who is it?” He tried not to sound too irritated at having his long awaited alone time disturbed.
“It appears Mr. Doe decided to spend some, I quote, “quality time” with you.”
John.
Their friendship was currently undergoing a bit of a rough patch. There were many intense moments during their fight with the Agency and if Bruce was honest with himself, he’s been avoiding his friend ever since. He had no desire to face the reality of his feelings and has been actively pushing them aside like a coward for weeks. Feelings could wait.
Still, why wouldn’t Gotham’s newest vigilante text him first? He texted him all the time and yet he couldn’t mention he was going to appear at his doorstep today? Bruce wanted to avoid causing his poor father-figure unnecessary stress.
He put down the gadget and sighed. “I’ll be right up, Al.”
“I will let Mr. Doe know.” Alfred answered, sounding displeased. The old butler wasn’t too fond of John.
When Bruce entered the living room he found John engaged in an excited conversation with the butler. Excitement only coming from one side of the party.
“Oh yes! Mary Ann Cotton was a gruesome lady! Wouldn’t want to date a person like that, you could never have a drink without fearing for your life, haha!”
“Indeed. The unfortunate gentlemen who married her made a grave mistake.”
Bruce coughed, announcing his arrival. The change in John’s facade was astonishing. The creepy grin that he was giving Alfred immediately dropped and changed into a more sincere one, eyes lighting up. “Bruce!”
John almost ran past the butler to wrap his arms around Bruce. The sudden hugs were something Bruce was still getting used to, but he had enough experience with John’s physical displays of affection to properly return them now. John’s smaller form felt warm in his arms.
He looked over John’s shoulder and saw Alfred sending him a questioning look.
“I imagine you have a lot of catching up to do, so I will leave you two gentlemen to it,” Alfred said as John pulled away from the embrace to look at Bruce’s face with an expression that could only be described as dreamy. Bruce noticed he was wearing bright red lipstick today, something he only ever saw on his face when John was dressed in his vigilante outfit.
“You never told me you had a butler, Bruce.” John said, turning his head to the leaving form of Alfred. “He’s so polite, I guess those British stereotypes really are true, tally-ho!”
“He is.” Bruce agreed, ignoring the later part. “John, please don’t take this the wrong way but…why are you here?” he tried to keep the tone of his voice gentle. John didn’t react too positively to negativity these days.
John’s smile fell. He scratched the back of his head and looked around nervously. “I thought I’d hang out with my best buddy. We haven’t seen each other since...well, you know.”
Ah yes. The incident.
The thing that Bruce was desperately trying to push under the “will deal will later, possibly a few years later” pile.
“You know, you could’ve called.”
That definitely wasn’t the right thing to say because John’s expression turned furious.
“Well if I did that, then you’d find a quick way to get rid of me!” He accused, poking his finger into Bruce’s chest with more aggression than needed. “When will you stop taking me for a fool, Bruce? I know you’ve been avoiding me.” Bruce could’ve sworn that John’s voice cracked at the last sentence.
“I haven’t –“
“Oh, give me a break! Ever since we kissed, you didn’t return any of my calls or even reply to my texts and you have the nerve to deny it now?”
Bruce closed his mouth immediately, his heart speeding up at the memory.
John was right. He had no right to lie to his face.
Lying to John never ended well anyway.
Anger left John’s face just as quickly as it appeared. He seemed to be regretting his decision to bring back the topic of that event. He shifted from one foot to another. “Anyway, let’s just forget about all of that.”
Bruce gave a nod, his raging heartbeat calming down a bit.
“And that’s why I brought alcohol!”
What?
John ran to the table with a bag on it and pulled out two bottles of whisky.
Oh boy.
“Uh, John?” His pale friend was already pouring the contents into a glass. Did Alfred bring the glasses? “I don’t drink.”
John paused and looked up. “Why not?”
“Because I can’t afford to be intoxicated in case there’s an emergency in the city.” Also, because I don’t want to say things I wouldn’t while sober to you.
“Aww c’mon, Gotham will be perfectly dandy for a few hours without your babysitting.” John walked up to him, offering him the glass. “It’s not like we’re going to be completely wasted. I’m really good at holding my liquor.” He gave Bruce a playful wink.
Bruce didn’t accept the glass. “I’m not good at it. I’m a lightweight.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. Bruce couldn’t remember the last time he willingly drank since he became Batman.
John examined him from head to toe with a frown, right eyebrow raised sceptically. He had nicely shaped eyebrows, Bruce noted. “Right. I’m supposed to believe Bruce Wayne, the man who probably attended more parties than I spent days in Arkham, is a lightweight?”
Bruce shrugged and gave John an awkward smile.
“Just one drink.” John tried again. “Please? I came all the way here carrying this, let’s at least open one bottle. I promise I won’t force you to have more than one drink if you want to stop. We can totally be family friendly! We’ll call your butler buddy to bring us some milk and cookies instead! Deal?”
Bruce didn’t know if it was John’s puppy eyes (damn those gorgeous green eyes) or the guilt that he’d been carrying for weeks for not allowing proper contact between them but something in Bruce broke. John could affect him like nobody else could.
He sighed and reluctantly took the glass from John’s hand, whose face immediately lit up. “Just one.”
“Just one!” John agreed cheerily, pouring his own glass of whisky.
It was not just one.
The little voice of reason at the back of Bruce’s head became more distant with every sip he took. Suddenly the idea of just letting go of his worries and relaxing for a day with his best friend didn’t seem as irrational.
So when John decided to refill his own glass, Bruce willingly slid his next to it. John gave him a grin and happily obliged.
Bruce wondered if John should even be drinking while on his medication. Most likely not. The first and last time Bruce saw his friend intoxicated was when he and Agent Avesta found him in Harley’s office, surrounded by empty bottles and an aura of misery. He wasn’t doing so well then.
John slid the refilled glass back to Bruce. Was it just in his buzzed head or was John sitting closer to him on the enormous couch now?
“I missed this, us hanging out,” John said, appearing content as he took another sip. He looked from the glass, directly into Bruce’s eyes, his gaze soft. “I missed you.”
Bruce couldn’t help but smile, his chest feeling warm with what he suspected wasn’t just alcohol. “I missed you too, John.”
“I’ll cheer to that!” the smaller man said, holding up his glass. “Bruce and John, friends for life!”
Bruce brought up his glass and lightly tapped it against John’s, smiling wider. “Cheers.”
John drank the whole glass in one go and Bruce just stared at him, feeling strangely impressed. Apparently, John was being truthful when he claimed he could hold his liquor. His friend put the empty glass back down and giggled.
“So, how do you like your new place?” Bruce questioned. He bought John an apartment after recent events. John didn’t have a job, nor a proper home. How the man lived at the hideout for so long was beyond Bruce’s reasoning.
“I redecorated it,” John said nonchalantly, stretching his arms and sliding back into the softness of the couch. “Don’t get me wrong; I really appreciate your gift but the place lacked character.”
“Well of course, it’s new. It’s completely fine to decorate it to your liking.” Bruce agreed, mental images of John’s “decorations” already going through his head. Luckily, he was technically the property owner so whatever weird thing John decided to do to the place wouldn’t bother anyone.
“You should come visit and check it out for yourself,” John said, wiggling his eyebrows. “I also love the laptop and TV, by the way. Oh how I missed watching cartoons!”
“What are you watching now?” Bruce was genuinely curious about John’s taste in media.
“Old seasons of Bugs Bunny!” John immediately sat up straight, appearing really excited. He imitated the cartoon rabbit’s accent, holding an invisible carrot in his left hand. “What’s up Doc?”
Bruce gave a light chuckle at that, feeling amused. Somehow, he expected something less innocent.
“I also watch more Youtube. Lemme tell you, that site is full of interesting individuals!” John went on his ramble. “Did you know you can make a homemade bomb for under 1 dollar?”
Bruce’s smile disappeared. Perhaps giving John access to those kinds of resources wasn’t the brightest idea. “Why would you need that kind of knowledge?” The question came out harsher than intended.
“Relax, buddy. It’s just for entertainment purposes,” John gave Bruce’s stiff shoulder a friendly pat. “Besides, I already knew how to make those long ago.”
Bruce took another sip from his glass in an effort to ignore what he just heard. He successfully emptied it and reached for the bottle to pour himself more.
“Attaboy, Bats!” John laughed, sliding his own glass beside him. “Now the real party’s starting!”
Alfred came to check on them halfway through their bottle and John offered him a drink as well. The butler politely declined. Bruce could feel the old man’s judging gaze on his skin.
“Am I to assume you are taking the night off from your nightly duties?” Alfred asked Bruce with a raised eyebrow.
Bruce looked at Alfred and then back at his now empty glass “I guess so.”
“Don’t you worry, Mr. Pennyworth!” John gave Alfred a thumbs up and giggled. “The GCPD can handle today. And unlike us, our pal Jimbo is actually paid to do this. We’re just doing it from the goodness of our hearts.” The smaller man dramatically clutched his chest before breaking into fits of laughter.
“I suppose Master Bruce does need some proper time off,” Alfred agreed, stepping closer to Bruce when John started laughing. Bruce was so used to all kinds of John’s laughter that he forgot it was off-putting to other people. “I’ll prepare dinner. What would you like to eat?”
“Oh, oh! Cake!!” John immediately exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “And pancakes! With chocolate and cream, please.”
“Wouldn’t you prefer to eat something healthier for the main meal?” Alfred questioned.
“Nope, cake and pancakes sounds much better!”
Alfred turned to Bruce with a raised eyebrow. “Master Bruce?”
“It’s fine, Al. We’ll have that cake and pancakes.” Bruce said, smiling up to his father figure. “Today is a special occasion.”
“Very well, sir. I’ll get right to it.”
As soon as Alfred left the room, John leaned onto Bruce’s shoulder and teased. “Aww Bats, now I feel special.”
Bruce looked down at the pale grinning face, returning the smile. He felt a strong urge to be honest. “You are.”
John was a person like no other. Bruce had never met a man so charismatic, unpredictable, quirky, and fun. Spending time with John, mission or not, was always exciting and full of surprises. Bruce felt himself being pulled in by the man’s aura like a moth to the light.
John blinked at him, mouth forming a small “o” shape. He probably didn’t expect Bruce to be this straightforward. He gave a nervous laugh and pulled away, shifting his eyes. “G-gosh Bruce. You really know how to charm a guy, don’t you?”
Bruce couldn’t help himself, he kept staring at John who was now shakily rubbing his hands, looking at everything but Bruce. Somewhere at the back of his mind, the small voice screamed at him to look away. Give his friend the space he clearly desired right now.
But he just couldn’t stop staring, examining every single detail. John’s unusual, colourful attire that only he could pull off. Skin so pale it reminded Bruce of the moon shining onto the streets of Gotham. The bright red lipstick that made Bruce’s gaze linger on his lips even more than usual. How soft that green hair looked. So soft.
He could almost feel it -
John jumped to his feet as if he was electrified. “Pardon me, I need use the bathroom. Powder my nose, fix my lipstick, h-haha you know the drill!”
He was already at the door when Bruce’s drunken brain caught up with what was happening, hand still in the air where it was trying to slip into John’s locks seconds before. “Wait, let me help you find –“
“No thanks, I’ll find it.” John’s voice sounded higher than usual, still nervous. “Won’t be long!”
He all but ran out of the room.
Bruce leaned back into the couch with a deep sigh. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and when he pulled the hands away, he noticed the room was slightly spinning.
Why was he being such an idiot, making things awkward now when John was just being friendly and trying to reconnect with him after weeks of Bruce giving him the cold shoulder?
Stupid whisky.
Stupid Bruce for drinking that damn whisky.
And stupid John Doe for being so irresistible, making Bruce act irrationally on more than one occasion. He had no right. No right at all to have such an effect on Bruce!
Bruce groaned and covered his face with hands again, regretting his poor life choices.
When John returned his expression wore no signs of his previous distress. He smiled at Bruce and instead of pouring himself a new glass, he just grabbed the whole bottle before gulping the remaining content down his throat in one go.
This time Bruce stared for a completely different reason.
“John…are you okay?”
“I’m fantastic! Thanks for asking.” John spun on his heels like a ballerina, before leaning down to open the second bottle.
“I think uh … I think we might’ve had enough drinking for today.”
“Bruce, it has come to my attention that we are very different levels of intoxicated.” John said, not even looking at Bruce when he started gulping down the second bottle. He took a slight break to continue. “Sorry I didn’t believe you when you said you were a lightweight, by the way. I see now that you were completely truthful with me.”
Bruce stood up, ignoring how much more the room was spinning at the act, and went to grab the bottle. John gracefully dodged out of the way and giggled at his pathetic effort.
“John, you’ve had enough.” Bruce said with his best stern voice he could muster but it came out sounding more like a drunken slur. “Give it to me.”
“Nuh-uh, Brucie. I bought this fair and square. It’s mine.” John paused for a second, fake-thinking. “Well I suppose it was technically bought with the budget you gave me. But eh, details.”
Bruce tried again, this time with more speed. John just stepped away making him almost crash into the table.
“Give me that!” Bruce demanded, now fully annoyed. The only response he got was more laughter.
“Come and get it, Bats.” John sent him an almost sinister looking grin before running away, Bruce hot on his heels.
They chased each other across the room, breaking everything that came across their path. Bruce never realised how much harder it was to catch someone while intoxicated. Especially when the one you are chasing is so evasive and flexible and has a tendency to bamboozle you at every turn.
John was being a pure brat and Bruce didn’t for the life of him understand why.
After about 10 minutes of their childish chase, the additional alcohol intake must have finally gotten to John because he slipped on the end of the carpet while making funny faces at Bruce and came crashing down with a loud thud. What little remained in the second bottle spilled all over the floor.
Bruce immediately straddled him before John could get up and start running again, making a bigger mess out of the room that would enrage Alfred. Bruce threw the bottle near the trashcan and missed, but paid it no mind.
“You,” Bruce hissed, trying to catch his breath while glaring down at his friend. “Are so frustrating sometimes, you know that?”
John laughed, but it was an angry laugh. A laugh that Bruce now knew as “I am very pissed and annoyed at you right now” laugh. “I’m the frustrating one?! Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately, buddy?”
Bruce didn’t get it. What was John on about?
“What do you mean?”
John refused to answer, playing the silent game. The smaller man simply pulled his head to the side and stared at the empty bottle across the room angrily.
Which pissed off Bruce even more.
“I’m not the one gulping down whole bottles of alcohol and running around the room like a child, John.”
That did it. John looked at him with pure fury in his eyes, trying to struggle out of Bruce’s grip. “Well I’m not the one fucking around with people’s hearts, Bruce!”
Bruce was stunned.
He softened his grip, guilt sneaking up on him. “I –“
“I didn’t start this!” John struggled away from his hold and sat up, arms wrapping around his knees. “You were the one who kissed me.” His voice broke.
Bruce didn’t know what to say to that or how to react at all.
“YOU KISSED ME AND THEN YOU JUST LEFT AND IGNORED ME EVER SINCE!” John shouted at his face, more anger slipping into his voice. His eyes were tearing up.
Oh god, his eyes were tearing up.
“I’m so - “
“And then you tried to do it again today!” John continued his rant. “As if you didn’t leave me heartbroken for days. I love you, Bruce.” Bruce felt his heart skip a beat. “In case that big detective brain of yours didn’t figure it out yet. I’ve sacrificed everything for you. The pact, Harley...and how am I repaid? By someone I love playing mind games with me, again. Aren’t I just the luckiest?”
“John – “ Bruce started but closed his mouth. He had no idea what to say.
John loved him.
Buffering. Cannot process.
John was full on sobbing now, something Bruce never witnessed before. Sure, he saw his friend tear up a little and heard signs of almost-crying in his tone but never like this.
It turned out that John was an ugly crier, runny nose and everything. He pulled out a purple napkin with a flower pattern and blew in it. If his friend wasn’t drunk before, he was definitely drunk now.
“John I do care about you. I do!”
“LIAR!” John accused, hiccupping. “You’re a liar, Bruce. Liar, liar pants on fire!”
“John please,” Bruce pleaded, reaching for the other man’s shoulders to hold him in place, even when John was doing everything in his power to shake them off. “I’m telling the truth.”
It went right over John’s head, who continued his drunken accusations. “If you don’t feel the same way, stop giving me false hope, y’know? Don’t give me what I want and then take it away the next second! That’s just rude! And incredibly hurtful.”
“John please, listen to me.” Bruce was begging at this point, heart hammering wildly. “Just give me time to explain.”
John blew his nose again and glared. “You have two minutes.”
Bruce took a deep breath. Explaining this would be a lot easier if he didn’t have a cloud of drunkenness hovering over his thoughts. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m not very good at handling my emotions. Especially when it concerns feelings like this. I thought that was pretty obvious by now.”
John pff-ed at him, furrowing his brows.
“It’s my fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. But I’ve never felt like this before.” What are words? Bruce was struggling. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone and...it scared me. It still scares me.”
John was no longer frowning at him.
“Do you really think you’d be here drinking with me if you were anyone else? I’d never let my guard down like this. Would never even consider skipping a night of patrol if it was anyone but you.”
God, future sober Bruce will be so pissed at him.
But drunk Bruce didn’t care. He couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“You mean so much to me, John. More than I could ever put in words.”
John wiped the remaining tears away with the back of his hand. “Really?” he asked in a small voice.
“Really.” There was no use denying it anymore. Bruce was in way too deep to look back now. “I feel the same way.”
They stared at each other in dead silence, both processing what had just happened. John was staring at him wide-eyed, mouth hanging open. He stopped crying.
Bruce felt like his chest was going to explode. He had just made a complete fool of himself, hadn’t he?
What happened next was so quick it felt like a blur. One moment they were sharing an intense stare and the next Bruce’s back was colliding with the floor because John jumped on him with such force that he didn’t have time to process and prepare for the attack.
John was holding his face with both of his hands, kissing Bruce like it was a matter of life or death. Bruce wasn’t even sure where John was aiming for because the desperate kisses were landing on all parts of his face.
“You have no idea,” John gasped before planting a kiss on Bruce’s nose. “How long.” A kiss on his cheek. “I’ve been wanting, dreaming,” a kiss on the forehead. “To hear that.” And finally a kiss on the lips.
Bruce hummed into his mouth in agreement, returning the kiss with only a little bit of delay. He wrapped his arms around John’s thin waist, feeling happier than he had in months. Take that, sober Bruce.
John’s lips were just as soft as he remembered them. Just as delightful to kiss as they were last time. Still as addicting. Bruce deepened the kiss and John moaned into his mouth. He felt John’s frame tremble in his arms.
In reality, their drunk kissing was clumsy, full of awkward nose bumping and teeth clashing. It was clear that his friend had not kissed many people in his life and in the state he was in, Bruce wasn’t exactly on top of his game either. But it was still the best damn kiss Bruce had ever experienced.
He wanted to experience many more.
When they finally pulled apart to breathe, John’s lipstick looked like a mess. The smaller man giggled when his gaze stopped on Bruce’s lips. “Ha! You look like me now, Bats.”
Bruce sat up and reached for his lips. When he looked at his fingers they had smudges of red on them.
Right.
A bright flash of light woke Bruce out of his dazed thoughts. John took a picture of him when he wasn’t looking.
And Bruce was too happy at the moment to object.
“One more with both of us!” John exclaimed, pulling Bruce into his classic selfie pose. “Twinsies!”
Bruce looked at John instead of the camera, smiling.
He loved this man. With all of his heart.
And now he knew John loved him too.