The last of my 2019's fics! This is a smutty BatCat one-shot I wrote for a fic exchange.
This story was inspired by —but not compliant with— Batman #392 ("A Night on the Town"), but it's not necessary to know it to read the fic. However, I'll say it's a fun stand-alone piece any shipper should check out. The basic premise is that Bruce and Selina, in costume, try to have a nice date night in Gotham, but they keep having to interrupt it to stop various crimes.
The title comes from an awful, awful joke on said comic: Bruce jokingly asked Selina to scratch his back, and she replied "What? No itches in the front?". It cracked me up ofc, so there you have it: awful sex pun for a title. It's only fitting.
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Bruce ignored the weight at the bottom of his stomach, telling him he'd missed his window of opportunity. As the night came closer to the sunrise by the second, his mind replayed each and every time he’d started enjoying himself that night –only for the next perp to appear. It was such an unsubtle condensation of the entirety of his life it didn’t deserve the word metaphor. He knew he was just dragging out his return to the Manor, walking side by side with Selina.
She seemed to have a different idea. With a determined set of her mouth, she grabbed his gloved hand again, and asked him to follow her –“yes, always, please”, seemed to be his default response to that— directing him to the nearby park. Selina stopped them under a lush tree, hiding them from the outside world; though still nighttime, the faint first sun-rays of the day had begun filtering through the leaves.
When Selina looked up to him, her purple cowl framed a barely visible twitch in the corner of her smile that made Bruce’s breath get caught in his throat. She set her palm against his face, gentle, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.
It was the kiss he’d anticipated the entire night. The kiss he’d followed her across the city to get, wet and welcome, open-mouthed and languid. There were no teeth behind it, and he didn’t know why that detail stumped him. She set the pace, and she kissed him as if they had all the time in the world.
She stepped away with a final lick into his mouth, leaving them both short of breath. Bruce’s focus had been thoroughly shot down, but he felt her hands move against his body and looked down. In her hands, she held her cat-o-nine whip, with its solitaire remaining tail after all the action they’d seen that night. Her eyes held a silent question, and Bruce’s reply was to push his back further against the three, his arms held behind its trunk, afraid that putting his eagerness into words would break the atmosphere.
After tying him up, instead of kissing him again, Selina maneuvered her suit to lower herself on the ground, on her knees. She looked up to him, a playful look in her eyes, and swiftly removed his belt, his plate and the lower part of his uniform. It might not be a good sign of his mental health, that it was the removal of his utility belt that left him feeling the most exposed.
For a few good seconds, the only thing he could feel was her warm breath against his already rock-hard cock; she seemed to be pondering a plan of attack, instead of a mere blow job. Her hand came next, holding the base almost delicately, rubbing his ballsack. Finally, her tongue touched him. Fickle, maddening licks that only worked him up more, without providing any relief.
Time seemed to fragment, as she licked up and down his shaft while he tried to remain still. She kissed the tip of his cock, letting it enter her mouth and sit over her tongue. The suction that followed made him groan. He could feel the drops of precum leaking out of him, and had to close his eyes and take a deep breath.
Selina had begun to slowly, frustratingly so, suck him into her mouth, moving her head back and forth. The heat that enveloped him was everything that mattered then, and before he realized he had pushed ahead once, twice, against the back of her throat, making her choke and pull back.
“Well. That wasn’t very nice.”
Her tone had been deadpan, and it sounded like he was being chastised my a high school teacher. Which wasn’t, he huffed with laughter as his cock seemed to twitch and demand attention, exactly off-putting.
“Sorry.”
Selina hummed. Their words, as he’d suspected, seemed to change the ambiance around them, but it hadn’t broken the spell.
She went back to the task, kissing the tip and returning to the quick licks, as a clear punishment. He could feel his control slip away from him and warned her out loud.
“Sel- Catwoman.” A disproportionate sense of shamed overwhelmed him when he realized how close he’d been to say her name in public, and he brutally pushed it down.
She seemed to understand this wasn’t how he wanted things to finish, for she stood up, her knees marked with leaves and dirt. Looking him up and down she nodded to herself, decided, and began untying him, pressing her full body against him, making the shaft of his cock rub against the inside of her leg.
She pushed him down to the ground, sitting still against the tree, and quickly re-tied his arms behind his back, even tighter than before.
“There’s– in the belt, left pouch from the center–”
She pulled out a condom –and there was again the familiar guilt, for not remembering to mention it earlier, even knowing he was up to date with his checkups—, her eyebrows raised in amused disbelief. “That’s awfully optimistic of you.”
“I hand them out sometimes.”
Her laugh was loud and musical and breathtaking. “That, I believe.”
Selina proceeded to sit up in his lap, careful not to touch his hard-on beyond the latex. Her lips returned to his mouth, in one of those unhurried kisses, the potent taste of his precum overwhelming in her tongue, and he let his head rest against the tree, pliant. Carefully, inch by inch, she descended upon his leaking cock, engulfing it.
If he’d thought her previous rhythm was maddening, it was nothing compared to this. She moved up and down his shaft as if she wanted to feel every millimeter against her walls. Her muscles pressed against it and Bruce felt so, so close. Their kiss was no longer a kiss, but two mouths breathing and panting almost pressed together, and finally, he could feel her tense up above him, shudder, as she pressed her face further against his to drown her moans when she came.
Bruce was barely capable of believing he’d held off long enough. Selina stood back and he felt something akin to nostalgia when the cold breeze touched his erection. Her hand replaced her heat, and it took only a few strokes, with just a hint of her sharp nails, to finally bring him off.
He had to let out a groan when he saw her teasingly lick his cum off her fingers. For a moment they sat there, together, with Bruce’s arms still tied together behind his back, putting by then a lightly painful strain on his shoulders. Selina bit her lip, and after a millisecond of hesitation, she brought one finger up to the edge of his cowl, and pulled at it ineffectually, playful, a tease.
His heartbeat went up, but despite that, he didn’t move or struggled against his restraints. A show of trust.
It was rewarded with a blinding grin. He wondered what she was thinking, as she kept staring at him with bright eyes. Bruce was under no delusions of how he looked with the cowl up and the lenses down –unsettling, not entirely human. But in her expression, he read nothing but fondness.
She then untied him and helped him up, so that he at least could pull up his own pants. The sunrise now colored the scene, though the tree’s branches afforded them some privacy.
Selina gave him one final, chaste kiss on the cheek. “Until I see you next, spooky.”
A/N: (Selina calls him spooky in that issue and I love it. Fave Bruce nickname ever, tbh).