[FIC] Most of All

Written for porn_battle, for the prompt: Batman/Jim Gordon, night visitor

Batman. Batman/Gordon. R. 700 words. Infidelity. Secret Identity.

It’s here, in the smothering dark, where Jim tries hardest to pretend with the rest of the city that he doesn’t need the Batman.

Most of All

They sleep in separate beds these days, him and Barbara, like they’re some kind of 50s television couple. Jimmy asks questions, but Babs doesn’t, the sweetheart, and that more than anything makes his ticker twinge. She and her mother have a whole world of hurts and accusations and there’s nothing that can undo Harvey’s flip of a coin and prove them wrong. So it’s strained smiles over the orange juice and toast, more smiles when there’s company, and eventually, when the separate beds turns into separate rooms, Jim only has a whisper of guilt when the shadow at his window turns his pulse into a jackhammer.

He’s good at ignoring the whispers of his conscience when the shadow lingers, steps inside more often than not to fill scraps of stolen midnight with hushed talk and the sort of secrets that keep Jim going through one long day after another. Tonight like always, Batman fills the room, too big even for the step up that this apartment is over the last. With every visit, Jim tries to picture what kind of place the guy calls home. He never gets far. Some things are beyond the scope of his imagination.


The air slicing in around Batman’s cape is colder than the gleam of moonlight on the casement. “I’m in my boxer shorts, you’d think you could call me Jim. Or James, at the least.”

Batman’s mouth stays in a line. Jim scoops his eyeglasses off the nightstand and unfolds them slowly. Like everything these days going right on down to the stone of Gotham’s sidewalks, the stems feel fragile, ready to crumble out from between his fingers.

“I wanted to thank you for earlier, with the problem at the club.” The words have just the slightest hesitation to them, and it’s a little terrifying to hear that sort of uncertainty in the graveyard rasp of a voice.

“You’re welcome.” Jim smiles to himself and knows it shows ragged at the edges, but what else can he say.

There’s a rustle and a blur of movement and Jim forgets for a second the aborted sound that’d made him think the Batman had something more to say to him. But it’s not back out the window and zipping up towards the rooftop to vanish, it’s a hand on his face with a gloved palm that’s textured to grip and tugging almost painfully at the dust of whiskers on his cheek.

“You don’t understand how much this means to me, Gordon.”

The intensity burns straight through the mask, shudders with the heavy thump of a heartbeat that Jim can feel drumming a beat not much different than his own. “Trust is a rare commodity,” he says, and turns away from the hand pressed shakily to his face in order to remove his glasses again. His nightvision has always been shit, and without the glasses he’s blind as his visitor’s namesake, but he closes his eyes anyway and upturns his head. He doesn’t flinch as the blindfold is laid over his eyes.

“One of the few things a man can’t buy,” Batman says, his voice softening towards something almost recognisable. Warm breath tickles near Jim’s ear before Jim can feel the mask being pulled away, the soft thump of it being dropped on the floor. Jim seeks out the kiss, the odd gentleness of it that always soothes the ache of anonymity, the chill of knowing Barbara’s down the hall in the room across from the kids.

Jim’s got more of Gotham in his bones than he’d like to admit, finds himself fighting the changes with the same agony of the city herself. It’ll be an official separation soon enough, the inevitable divorce to follow, but for now, he has this: A secret and a lie and more of both tangled up in the knot of sheets that he finds himself easing into.

It’s here, in the smothering dark, where Jim tries hardest to pretend with the rest of the city that he doesn’t need the Batman. But whoever the Batman is, his hair is short and soft between Jim’s fingers. He’s human and vulnerable when the armor comes off, and Jim needs to know that most of all.



4 thoughts on “[FIC] Most of All

  1. Batsy

    I truly love this. Batman/ Gordon is a perfect pair you don’t normally see. I would love to do some comics on any of your Batman related stories (that you don’t want to do).


    My coloring of lines doesn’t look so well because I haven’t uploaded anything with a new style I have been slaving over.

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