Until the Day Break (DC Comics, PG-15)
Feb. 1st, 2006 09:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
browngirlFirst a smidge of administrivia: I've begun filling the ficlet requests here. So far I seem to be tending towards the porny.
Title: Until the Day Break
Fandom: DC Comics
Rating: PG-15
Written For:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
petronelle, because. *big smile*
Pairing [and Summary]: Bruce/Harvey, before.
Based On: Two-Face's origin story as seen here.
Thanks to:sageness, maelithil and brown_betty for audiencing
Disclaimer: These characters belong to DC Comics, not me.
Title From: Song of Solomon 2:17; given me bybrown_betty
Bruce claws his way up out of sleep, propelled by a growing unease, an awareness of disquiet for once not his own. It's not some nightmare of his, half-remembered, that drives him up through heavy layers of unconsciousness; he remembers all of his nightmares, blood black by moonlight, falling pearls. It's danger nearby that needs his attention, danger to someone he loves.
Bruce is awake. Gotham's cloudy sky reflects streetlight through the open window. Beside him, Harvey is thrashing and sweating, mired in violent REM, eyes rolling beneath their lids.
Bruce shoves himself upright. Harvey might hurt himself. He could hold him still, but Harvey would struggle. He could call him, but Harvey might not hear. He could...
He needs to do something.
"Harvey." Bruce lifts his hand, deliberates, thinks of Leslie, and sets it on Harvey's hot forehead as lightly as he can. "Harvey, wake up." It's difficult to keep it there, as Harvey thrashes side to side, but Bruce doesn't dare use any pressure that would feel like restraint. "Harvey. You're dreaming. Wake up."
Harvey shudders and stills, and opens cloudy blue eyes below Bruce's hand. "Oh." He's breathless, blinking in confusion, as he reaches up to lay his hand on Bruce's. "Oh. I dreamed--- my father was--- you are." He takes a long, shuddery breath, and Bruce allows himself to watch Harvey's broad chest fill and rise, before pulling the blanket up over him. It's really too late in the year to have left the window open. "Bruce. Hi."
And Harvey smiles.
So Bruce smiles back.
Harvey keeps smiling, the moment almost long enough to inhabit, before his forehead wrinkles under Bruce's palm, before he frowns. "How bad was it?"
Bruce smiles wider and doesn't take a deeper breath as he steels himself to the lie. "You looked---" He waves his other hand with careful negligence. "Cranky. Bad dream?"
Harvey smiles again, smaller, lopsided and embarrassed. "You could say that." He squeezes Bruce's hand, once, and lets go, so Bruce lifts his hand away. "What time is it?"
"One twenty-four." They began dinner seven hours and eighteen minutes earlier. "Or so." They gave up pretending they weren't going to bed six hours and thirty-nine minutes ago. Harvey fell asleep, damp and peaceful and exhausted, three hours and six minutes after that. Bruce decides a shrug would be fitting, and is pleased to see Harvey's eyes darken a little as they follow the movement of his shoulder. He watched Harvey sleep for forty-nine minutes before he himself dozed off.
Harvey smiles a little more evenly, but then he sits up as well. "I should've left two hours ago. I told Gilda I'd be at the office, but..." Bruce is saved from deciding whether to look disappointed or to joke by Harvey's turn away from him, towards the interleaved pile of their clothes.
So all Bruce says is, "I know."
"I." Harvey hangs his head, and Bruce watches the strong line of his neck as he laughs humorlessly. "I love her. I'm going to marry her. I shouldn't be having---"
"I know," Bruce says again. Perhaps futilely.
Perhaps not. Harvey's shoulders straighten, and when he looks back over his shoulder half his face is limned in yellow light and his smile is exactly the same as in high school. "Bruce."
Bruce widens his eyes. Harvey's smile becomes a grin, and he twists around for a kiss. "I should've been at the office," he says, but he takes another kiss, a longer one, his pulse warm beneath Bruce's fingers, before he backs away. "I have to go."
Bruce flops down, choosing mild disappointment to display. "It's cold out there."
Harvey laughs and swings his legs out of the bed. "If the worst thing I face as an ADA is a little cold air, I'll be lucky." When Bruce sprawls invitingly Harvey's eyes rove him slowly, but he still stands and backs away. "I'll try to make it for lunch Tuesday, all right?"
"Of course you'll make it." Bruce stretches with frivolity he doesn't feel, and wishes he could weight Harvey back into the bed. "What could be more important than lunch with an old friend?"
"Doing my job, Bruce." Harvey's voice is mildly chiding, but there's a laugh in it. "See you then?"
Within his head, Bruce rearranges his next three evenings to spare at least an hour each for surveillance on Harvey's apartment. It will be good practice. On his face, he smiles lazily. "See you then."
Title: Until the Day Break
Fandom: DC Comics
Rating: PG-15
Written For:
petronelle, because. *big smile*Pairing [and Summary]: Bruce/Harvey, before.
Based On: Two-Face's origin story as seen here.
Thanks to:
sageness, maelithil and brown_betty for audiencingDisclaimer: These characters belong to DC Comics, not me.
Title From: Song of Solomon 2:17; given me by
brown_bettyBruce claws his way up out of sleep, propelled by a growing unease, an awareness of disquiet for once not his own. It's not some nightmare of his, half-remembered, that drives him up through heavy layers of unconsciousness; he remembers all of his nightmares, blood black by moonlight, falling pearls. It's danger nearby that needs his attention, danger to someone he loves.
Bruce is awake. Gotham's cloudy sky reflects streetlight through the open window. Beside him, Harvey is thrashing and sweating, mired in violent REM, eyes rolling beneath their lids.
Bruce shoves himself upright. Harvey might hurt himself. He could hold him still, but Harvey would struggle. He could call him, but Harvey might not hear. He could...
He needs to do something.
"Harvey." Bruce lifts his hand, deliberates, thinks of Leslie, and sets it on Harvey's hot forehead as lightly as he can. "Harvey, wake up." It's difficult to keep it there, as Harvey thrashes side to side, but Bruce doesn't dare use any pressure that would feel like restraint. "Harvey. You're dreaming. Wake up."
Harvey shudders and stills, and opens cloudy blue eyes below Bruce's hand. "Oh." He's breathless, blinking in confusion, as he reaches up to lay his hand on Bruce's. "Oh. I dreamed--- my father was--- you are." He takes a long, shuddery breath, and Bruce allows himself to watch Harvey's broad chest fill and rise, before pulling the blanket up over him. It's really too late in the year to have left the window open. "Bruce. Hi."
And Harvey smiles.
So Bruce smiles back.
Harvey keeps smiling, the moment almost long enough to inhabit, before his forehead wrinkles under Bruce's palm, before he frowns. "How bad was it?"
Bruce smiles wider and doesn't take a deeper breath as he steels himself to the lie. "You looked---" He waves his other hand with careful negligence. "Cranky. Bad dream?"
Harvey smiles again, smaller, lopsided and embarrassed. "You could say that." He squeezes Bruce's hand, once, and lets go, so Bruce lifts his hand away. "What time is it?"
"One twenty-four." They began dinner seven hours and eighteen minutes earlier. "Or so." They gave up pretending they weren't going to bed six hours and thirty-nine minutes ago. Harvey fell asleep, damp and peaceful and exhausted, three hours and six minutes after that. Bruce decides a shrug would be fitting, and is pleased to see Harvey's eyes darken a little as they follow the movement of his shoulder. He watched Harvey sleep for forty-nine minutes before he himself dozed off.
Harvey smiles a little more evenly, but then he sits up as well. "I should've left two hours ago. I told Gilda I'd be at the office, but..." Bruce is saved from deciding whether to look disappointed or to joke by Harvey's turn away from him, towards the interleaved pile of their clothes.
So all Bruce says is, "I know."
"I." Harvey hangs his head, and Bruce watches the strong line of his neck as he laughs humorlessly. "I love her. I'm going to marry her. I shouldn't be having---"
"I know," Bruce says again. Perhaps futilely.
Perhaps not. Harvey's shoulders straighten, and when he looks back over his shoulder half his face is limned in yellow light and his smile is exactly the same as in high school. "Bruce."
Bruce widens his eyes. Harvey's smile becomes a grin, and he twists around for a kiss. "I should've been at the office," he says, but he takes another kiss, a longer one, his pulse warm beneath Bruce's fingers, before he backs away. "I have to go."
Bruce flops down, choosing mild disappointment to display. "It's cold out there."
Harvey laughs and swings his legs out of the bed. "If the worst thing I face as an ADA is a little cold air, I'll be lucky." When Bruce sprawls invitingly Harvey's eyes rove him slowly, but he still stands and backs away. "I'll try to make it for lunch Tuesday, all right?"
"Of course you'll make it." Bruce stretches with frivolity he doesn't feel, and wishes he could weight Harvey back into the bed. "What could be more important than lunch with an old friend?"
"Doing my job, Bruce." Harvey's voice is mildly chiding, but there's a laugh in it. "See you then?"
Within his head, Bruce rearranges his next three evenings to spare at least an hour each for surveillance on Harvey's apartment. It will be good practice. On his face, he smiles lazily. "See you then."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-02-01 09:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-06 05:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-01 12:48 pm (UTC)He wouldn't be any better off with Gilda -- poor Gilda.
Bruce's efforts not to scare him break my heart almost as much as Harvey's lopsided smile. I want to pet Bruce and tell him to disengage, to leave poor Harv alone, but I know perfectly well how silly such instructions would be.
*wallows in the tragedy*
Thank you so much. I love watching them break each other's hearts.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-06 05:59 am (UTC)One of the many things I loved about that story I linked to is that Harvey's really broken (or to be precise, his father broke him long ago). Becoming Two-Face just brought that to the surface.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-01 01:57 pm (UTC)Oh, *Bruce*. He tries so hard to protect his loved ones, in his own terribly creepy way. Poor dear.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-06 06:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-01 02:49 pm (UTC)Bruce and his scary scary self, and his love for Harvey.
Harvey and Gilda and "doing my *job*," and half his face limned in yellow light -- oh, the DOOM.
W00bies.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-06 06:00 am (UTC)Thank you. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-02-01 06:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-06 06:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-02 04:35 pm (UTC)I love the last bit, with the surveillance cameras. OH BRUCE.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-06 06:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-02 08:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-06 06:04 am (UTC)And oh, I love the sentiment in your icon.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-04 03:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-06 06:05 am (UTC)Thank you very much for telling me your liked this, and even more for sharing your thoughts with me!
no subject
Date: 2006-02-12 10:54 am (UTC)Love,I just -- well, love, hah, how you write.
*general inappropriate icon disclaimer, here*
no subject
Date: 2006-02-12 02:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-30 10:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-30 11:10 pm (UTC)They're the OTP of friend
(And, thank you. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-06-30 11:13 pm (UTC)