Marked/Scarred
Everytime they do this Bruce always take the extra time to look at his scars. Jack has scars. Not just the pitted, twisted ones on his face that he sucks on during kisses. He has other scars, too.
His fingers moves down and the other man giggles, still drowsy with the pleasure of afterglow. Times like these are rare for sworn enemies like them. Right now, Bruce pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind. The sunset spills through the glass panels and onto the lovers.
There is a little scar by his neck, where a bullet from a rookie officer got lucky. Bruce remembers that night. The trail of blood as time seems to slow around him. The rage he felt. He did not even think before punching the rookie in the nose. The look on Gordon's face is what Jack would call priceless.
At this moment, Bruce can only see the man who nuzzles his neck and close his eyes in content.
The sun is setting. And when the night sets in all this would be wiped away and they would be enemies yet again.
But now Bruce is almost happy. Happy with tracing the marks and scars that litters Jack's body.
A long, smooth, diagonal scar on his chest. When Bruce asks him where it came from Jack would laugh a little, and a longing look would seep into his eyes. It made him slightly jealous.
There is another scar, across his collarbone. That one was his. The first scar The Joker got from Batman. Bruce brushes his lips across the rough patch of skin.
His.
The clown giggles a little, eyes still closed. His, until the sun sets.
There are other scars as well. Straight, horizontal ones. Jagged and horrible ones across his arms. There is no need for concern, Jack tells him. They were from another lifetime.
There are three scars on his stomach. All were from Bruce. One when Batman dropped him from a rooftop, two from batarangs that managed to cut deep. And another one on his hip.
That one is red and angry, but still an old scar. Everytime Bruce touched Jack would glare at him, so he opted to trace his hip bone instead. Outside the last rays of a golden sun shine down on Gotham City.
"Can't believe you ended up watching the sunset with me, bats?" Jack opens his eyes. "Still trying to wrap my head around it," Bruce smiles. The sun goes down and the sky became a mix of orange and purple. They kiss like they've never kissed before. The stars comes out before anyone of them even noticed.
"Stay?" Bruce asks, pressing his lips to the other's temple. "Sorry, bats, gotta go, Joker stuff, you know" Jack stands and steps away, pulling his clothes on and steps out. Bruce stands up himself after he can no longer hear the footsteps.
The way down to the batcave was cold, and he was alone...
