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The Birthday Present	By : Kip Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 8478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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While Alfred listened intently, Sandy sipped at a cup of green tea. "Of course then I had to admit to Bruce that his house is so big I thought it was a hotel…" He told the older man.
"I have often had similar thoughts myself." The butler agreed, taking the opportunity to pile another helping of scrambled egg on their guest's plate. "Particularly when vacuum cleaning."
Bruce sat back and enjoyed the easy flow of banter between the other two men. Alfred did not take to many people, and to Bruce's knowledge the old fellow had never struck up such an immediate relationship with another adult. Alfred had always been fond of Dick, and had instantly made the newly‑orphaned boy feel welcomed within the house, but this was something new…
We both like him… How rare is that? Dick actually did good this time!
"Ahem?"
A polite clearing of the throat attracted Bruce's attention. "Alfred?"
"I believe we were discussing how long Master Sandy will be staying?"
"Oh …" Bruce glanced across the table. "As long as he wants to, unless Dick has other plans I suppose? That alright with you, Sandy?"
"It's fine with me…" The expression on the younger man's face showed that the offer was not unwelcome, simply utterly unexpected. "If you're sure I'm not going to be in the way?"
"In this house?" Bruce laughed. "Or should I say 'Hotel Wayne'?"
Even Alfred allowed himself a rare moment of public amusement.

* * * * *

The pool was lit by the last of the afternoon sun. Sandy stepped out of the borrowed clothes and, placing them neatly on the nearby couch, wandered across the tiles and into the water.
"You don’t seem at all bothered about being nude in front of people." Bruce raised the subject. Not that he was complaining. Far from it…
Draughty, but damned appealing, at least from this side!
"You get used to it." The other man told him.
"You do…did? Where?"
The blond glanced away awkwardly. "At Julius' house…"
"You always walked around like that, there?"
"It was one of the conditions of living there."
"It was??" Bruce wondered if maybe he should start insisting on a similar arrangement?
Would I have the nerve though? He'd done some odd things in his time as the Batman; but never anything like that.
God, it’s tempting though!
"Whatever you might be thinking, Bruce, Julius didn’t do anything nasty to me … only looked, and sometimes he liked to … hug me." Sandy blushed scarlet. It seemed that there were some topics that embarrassed him.
"What were the other conditions?" Bruce couldn’t help but be curious, any more than he could help the effect that the blond was having on him. Very subtly he adjusted his seating position.
"Mainly, that no one else touched me …" Sandy answered readily.
"At all?"
"At all." Came the sombre reply from the man in the water.
"How long were you there for?"
"Almost two years … ever since the shipping plant closed. When I was discharged from the hospital I had to find work and fast. A local charity tried to help me, but the only place that would take me on without all the usual papers was the meat shipping plant." Sandy called out as he started another length.
"The old freezing plant?" Bruce had a mental flash of the large, dark building built out on piers into Gotham Bay; the place had finally been demolished about a year ago, and the land sold off. "The one that was on the north end of the waterfront?" He checked.
"Yeah." Sandy finished another length, giving Bruce a momentary glimpse of tight muscular buttocks as he turned into the return lap.
"What did you do there?"
"Hauled frozen carcases around, what else?" Sandy stopped swimming and slicked dripping hair out of his eyes.
"Couldn’t you have done something less, uh,"
"Less menial?" The younger man guessed, gently interrupting him. "I'm not embarrassed to admit what I did for a living; there are a lot worse ways to make a living than lugging dead cow around."
It was Bruce's turn to flush: he really hadn't meant it to come out quite like that; but …

"Bruce, I had an eight inch long gash on my scalp and not a lot of hair. I looked like the star of the Frankenstein's Monster film, and talked like it too, since I couldn’t afford to keep up the Speech Therapy." Sandy told him.
"Add to that the fact that, even though the doctors did their best for me, when I got out of the hospital I could barely keep two thoughts in my head at the same time, I wasn’t exactly model employee material. All I had was my skin and the clothes I stood up in, oh and just enough self-respect to refuse to resort to standing on street corners."
Which logically meant that the way Sandy looked now was unaugmented? That the face he was wearing was the one he was born with…
And once his body was honed by the physical labour Sandy must have had plenty of offers of that sort… No wonder he mentioned prostitution! The real surprise is that he managed to avoid it…
"What happened then? Later, I mean?" Bruce asked, dragging his mind back out of the gutter.
"Yeah, well, when the packing plant went bankrupt, I was starving; literally: I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to." Sandy shrugged lightly, climbing out of the pool. "The State doesn’t recognise any responsibility for people like me, I wasn’t illegal in the technical sense; but I didn’t have a clue as to who I had been and, with the recession in full swing, no one seemed to be able to spare official resources on helping me to find out."
"That's disgraceful…" For once Bruce couldn’t find the words. He covered his confusion by handing Sandy a clean towel.
"Don’t stress it," The other man’s smile was surprisingly relaxed considering the topic under discussion. "We're both adults, we know what it's like out there. Bad things happen to nice people, most of whom probably deserve better; but I'm not ungrateful, not at all: at least the government paid most of my medical bills."
Not only beautiful but practical too … Bruce began to admire the inner man at least as much as the outer. "So what did you do after the packing plant finished?" He asked curiously.
"Like everyone else, I went there and queued up in line for my severance pay. When I finally got to the front table, Julius Wociek was sitting behind the desk. I knew who he was of course; but I'd never really met him: the Managing Director didn’t slum around with the hired help." Sandy shrugged as he casually towelled the excess water out of his hair.
"As he was checking my name off the list, Julius asked if I had plans, and I had to admit that I hadn't; that was when he invited me into his private office. Once the door was shut, Julius confessed that he'd been watching me for weeks. He asked if I might be prepared to do something ... of a personal nature ... for him."
"And you did?" Just like that?
"Not at first; but then he offered me dinner." Sandy said simply. "Whatever I wanted, all for me, at his house, just to hear him out, and a ride home after."
"Dinner?" Bruce couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. "Just dinner?" He couldn’t help but think wryly about all the hassle he had endured for the various women he had bedded. To someone with Bruce's resources the financial cost was nothing; however, the inevitable emotional tangles were at least one part of the reason for his recent celibate state… He'd sworn off women, and stuck to that…
No doubt in my mind about which I'd rather have… not now I've seen the alternative …
"By then my brain was together just enough to know what that probably meant; I told him how I don’t like being touched unexpectedly, and Julius said that it needn’t be a problem." The grey‑blue eyes met his. "Bruce, I don’t know if you've ever been starving? I don’t like to assume things about people, and just because you live in a lovely big house and have a Butler; it doesn’t mean that life has always been easy for you."
Perceptive too… Scrambled or not, there's still a real brain in there…

"I've been hungry once or twice, but I've always known that it was only temporary…" Bruce admitted.
"Well, I was hungry that morning: I hadn't eaten in two days, and it was going to take another two for the cheque to clear; and there was no guarantee that it would put me in credit," Sandy said simply. "When Julius offered me a four-course dinner, I wasn’t about to let my pride get in the way. If I hadn't accepted he would only have asked someone else.”
I doubt it, it sounds like he definitely had his sights set on you...
As he finished drying himself, Sandy continued to talk quite matter-of-factly to his host.
“When Julius suggested that the offer could also include breakfast, I realised that I could at least going to get to sleep in a heated room for one night. When it's close to minus ten outside and you can't afford to feed the meter, that's a real incentive," The blond added.
"Good god…" By that point Bruce was too stunned to do much more than stand and gape.
"Not God, just Julius." Sandy shrugged, "He was more than strange; but he wasn’t bad to me. After I agreed, he left it to his staff to take over handing out the rest of the severance cheques and took me straight out to his car. I think that's when I began to realise that he was actually perfectly serious about the whole thing. When we got to his house, Julius made me a sandwich and then sat watching while I ate it."
"He watched you? While you were eating?"
"It was one of his … quirks. Once I got to be a bit more comfortable with Julius, he would wait until I had finished my main meal and then feed me bits of fruit with his own hands."
"That is really bizarre," The whole idea was making Bruce distinctly uneasy.
Sandy only smiled as he redressed, "That was just the start of it. I was still fully dressed that time and the house was warm, so after I'd eaten, I got sleepy."
Bruce sat up, alert.
"No, nothing sinister," Sandy reassured him, guessing at Bruce's suspicions. "It was just the previous few days catching up on me... I remember sitting on the sofa, at the far end from Julius, with him just watching me like he had been ever since we got there. Only when I woke up there was a clean blanket over my legs, and Julius was sitting just a few inches away."
"What did you do?"
"What could I do? I was shocked to find him so close, and I said so; but he hadn't broken the agreement, he wasn’t touching me, he was only looking. Julius promised me then, swore to me, that if I would agree to stay with him, he would take care of me and never let anyone touch me without my permission; including him."
"And did he?" The words Bruce really wanted to say wouldn’t come. "Did he ever touch you without permission, Sandy?" He felt awkward saying it; but plunged on, "Once the clothing went?"
"No, Julius was always very careful to ask me about what he wanted to do."
"He actually asked you before he touched you?" Bruce double-checked. Not a euphemism then? How strange is that?
"Yes; the thing is, I'm not comfortable with being touched unexpectedly," The blond confessed, "It makes me feel … strange. Jumpy."

Settling on the padded chair, Sandy fidgeted a little. "Sometimes I lose a few seconds. Julius thought it might be some sort of mild epilepsy from the accident; but we never found out if he was right or not."
"Not surprising, considering what you must have been through…" Bruce sympathised, "The way Julius treated you sounds rather …" He tried hard to remember that Sandy had been fond of the old freak, and tempered his words accordingly, "Eccentric," He finished.
"Actually, I suspect that the touching thing didn’t have anything to do with Julius." Sandy stared into the distance. "I don’t have any idea of whether I was like this before the accident … and I was pretty much out of it for most of the time that I was being treated at the hospital: I don’t remember much about that part," He shifted awkwardly, "I wasn’t very rational, not for months afterwards."
"Trauma can do that," Considering some of the people Bruce came into regular contact with in his 'other suit', what Sandy was describing at the moment didn’t sound impossibly difficult to interact with.
I could live with that, if that's as bad as it gets… And why was he thinking about a future with Sandy in it, when he’d not even known the man for a full day yet?
"Brain damage, they said…" Sandy blinked, "But I guess I'm okay now… Apart from the occasional urge to turn people into Cornish Pasties," He added; "Only on a full moon though."
"Full moon, huh?" Bruce felt the edges of his mouth turning up just a little, "Sounds perfectly normal for Gotham," He managed to keep his voice level. "Do give me a little notice if you're thinking of doing it to me though, won't you? I might have plans."
"Promise." The pale eyes twinkled.

The afternoon rolled on into evening, and, after one of Alfred's excellent dinners, Bruce escorted his houseguest into his private study. "So, getting back to Julius … and his house rules?" He prompted gently: his curiosity had yet to be entirely satisfied, even if his stomach was comfortably full by now.
"Yes, well, Julius did sometimes have some of his friends over …” Sandy sighed. “And their 'friends' ... Julius insisted I stay fully dressed whenever anyone else was around, and he would never let me out of his sight until they'd all gone again." The blond gazed wistfully out of the window. "Bruce, I don’t know if you can understand this; but when you've been alone for long enough, sometimes you feel so … desperate," The rich tones went quiet, and soft, "That you would do anything just for some shred of human contact…"
Bruce knew that feeling only too well; he nodded, "What else did you have to do, Sandy? For him, I mean?" He had the definite feeling that there was something else … something Sandy was not saying.
How bad was it there for him, living in that house? Beholden to the old creep for everything?
"Not much," The blond shrugged. "Sometimes Julius would put his arms around my shoulders, and hug me lightly: nothing too demanding. I'm okay with touch, as long as I know it's coming, and touching him wasn’t exactly the worst thing I've ever had to do … Getting up close and personal with the frozen meat every day was far worse," Sandy gave Bruce a self-deprecating grin. "Anyway, Julius wasn’t what you'd call intrusive. Sometimes, he liked me to lie on the sofa beside him, and put my head on his leg. He would stroke my hair with one hand, like you would with a dog?"
"He treated you like … a pet?" If the deceased Julius hadn't already met his maker, Bruce would have considered it a personal priority to make the introductions.
The bastard... A rich old man, thoroughly spoiled and selfish by the sound of it, taking in a beautiful brain-damaged youth and taking advantage of him like that … it was beyond disgusting … It was also about the most darkly erotic thing Bruce had heard, and however much he might loathe himself for responding to it, the idea was also intensely compelling and he was already half-hard just thinking about it.
"Pretty much." Sandy nodded. "Mostly though he just liked to look."
As though he thought of you as being more like part of his collection than a real person...
"And that was all he ever did?" Bruce had a deep enough distrust of human nature not to take anything at face value. "He never forced … anything? Didn’t try to touch you sexually …"
"No." The light glow in the younger man's cheeks brightened to a vivid flush. "I asked him about it once; why he insisted we maintain that arrangement?"
"What did he say?"
"That the true excitement for him was in the creation of a particular 'flavour' or mood, and that he had found over time that he generally preferred the anticipation over the act itself."
For Bruce that still begged one obvious question. "Sandy, do you like men? Sexually, I mean?"
You obviously aren’t inherently homophobic, or Julius would have had his balls handed to him on a plate by the end of the first day...
"I don’t know … I don’t think I've ever tried," Suddenly awkward, Sandy turned away.
Probably not then ... Bruce felt a surge of disappointment. Why had he expected otherwise?
"Women, then?" With a face like that Sandy had to have spent most of his teenage years interestingly horizontal with someone, Bruce was sure of it; but when the answer came, he was stunned.

"I don’t know about that either." Sandy said simply.
"You're not serious? You can't still be a …virgin." Bruce swallowed past the word.
"Bruce, whatever my history - most of my past is a blank," The blond reminded him. "At least to me."
"A total blank?" Now that was something Bruce hadn't quite considered; but of course it made perfect sense. "When you woke up in the hospital you didn’t remember anything?"
What would it be like to have all of your past wiped away? He could barely conceive of it. Of course there were several events in his past that Bruce would rather be able to forget...
But to lose everything would take away the good – along with the bad...

"Well, I was still able to speak and read when I woke up," Sandy was saying, "but the rehab team had to teach me how to write again, and how to do day to day stuff. Stupid things … Like how to wash my hair, or hold a spoon."
"Mechanical tasks…" Bruce said aloud. "And some muscle memory." Which automatically meant that Sandy should still be able to anticipate the processes involved, although he wouldn’t necessarily remember having done any of them himself?
"Sandy, were the hospital able to give you ANY clues to what you did, before?"
"No, my body was as blank as my mind apparently: no calluses, scars, or significant injuries, not the slightest hint. They were able to tell me that I'm not carrying any inherited diseases or STD's: apparently the hospital does routine tests on all homeless people and John Doe's; and of course, I can be absolutely definite that I haven't done anything like that for the last three years …"
"Three years?" And I thought I was doing well in holding out for just over six months? This guy makes me look like a Trappist Monk!
"You really haven't indulged in any sexual activity in three years?" Bruce double-checked.
"Well, not with anyone else…" Sandy admitted.
"So you?" Bruce made the universal gesture for male self-satisfaction. "At Julius' place?" When the blond laughed at him for that, he found that he didn’t mind in the slightest.

"Of course I did!" Sandy was as completely forthcoming with that as he had been with everything else. "You try walking around naked all day and night, with someone eyeing you up most of the time, and see if you can manage not to react!" He glanced across at Bruce from under those abundant lashes.
"Of course I tried to resist, especially at first, but the urge just gets worse and after a while you can't help yourself; there's no way to hide it when you're nude. I'm not proud of how I reacted; but I'm not ashamed of it either. It wasn’t exactly a big concession, considering how much I was depending on Julius for," Sandy shifted position in the chair, "Apart from which, I'm not very modest, I turn on far too easily…"
"Are you turned on now?" Bruce found the question springing free before he could censor it.
"Talking about it like this, and with you?" The other man gave a self-deprecating smile, "Definitely."

Not only beautiful, but interested, and almost brutally honest. Oh god… Weighing up the circumstances, Bruce factored in what he'd already learned about his strange guest, and chanced his luck just a little further. "Would you show me?"
Grey-blue eyes lifted to meet his. "You want to …"
"I'd like to look at you … to see how turned on you are."
With steady hands Sandy eased down the jogging bottoms, revealing a pleasingly sized erection.
"Touch yourself," Bruce told him, "Show me how you like it."

Without the slightest hesitation, the younger man did as instructed; running his hands along the length of his shaft and bringing it to full readiness.
"Is that what you did … for him? Like this?" If so, Bruce could see why the deceased man had kept Sandy around … The blond was uncannily biddable.
"Not quite," Bruce’s guest shook his head, "I wasn’t trying to work around any clothes at the time."
"Get naked then." Half-expecting to be told where to go, Bruce watched in disbelief as the jogging bottoms were immediately toed off and joined just as rapidly by the t-shirt.
"Beautiful…" Bruce was moved to say. "Touch yourself again… bring yourself off."
"What about the mess?" Pale eyes regarded him for a second.
"Doesn’t matter." That was of no significance to Bruce.
"Alfred," Sandy worried.
"Will not feel it his place to comment on the peculiarities of his employer: this is my house, and I can do what I like in it." Seeing the slightly anxious expression appear on the younger man's face, he added gently. "I don’t think of people as property. I won't ever do anything to you that you don't want me to, Sandy. I give you my word on that."
Nodding, the blond nestled back into the thickly cushioned sofa, "I like leather." He sighed, stretching himself languidly over the upholstered seats. "It feels good. Almost like touching someone else; but without the … pain."
Pain? What could have happened to you to make you feel pain when someone else touches you? The idea was so unsettling that, for a second, Bruce almost lost the urge; but the soft noises and the actions of his companion were so incredibly compelling. Sandy certainly didn’t seem bothered by anything right now…

"So good…" Arching his back like a cat, Sandy rubbed himself luxuriously over the shiny leather, his hands moving restlessly over his naked skin, coaxing, teasing, and stroking until with a soft groan, he came, jetting thick white ropes of liquid pleasure up over his belly and chest in a series of strong pulses.
"May I touch you?" Bruce asked, rolling to his feet and standing just in front of the still hazy blond.
Sandy gazed languidly up at him. "Yes," The whispered word was accompanied by a short nod.
Dipping one finger in the spilled liquid, Bruce brought it to his mouth and took his first exquisite taste. With widening eyes, Sandy watched him, lips slightly parted in disbelief and delight.
"You taste good…" Bruce growled, "Would you mind if I…"
"Please," Sandy whispered. "I'd like that…"
Too close to the edge to try for anything more complex, Bruce hastily loosened his own pants, released his cock, and spent his excitement in a hot rush over the sculpted chest of the man in front of him, mingling their juices.

Bending forward, Sandy reached out, and before Bruce could say or do anything, the end of a hot tongue began softly lapping at his sensitised skin, collecting every last drop.
"Oh, god…" Supple palms ran up the sides of his legs, locking his hips in place just as moist warmth closed completely over the end of his still partly tumescent organ. Bruce shivered in delight, lost in the sensation explosion. The groan of pleasure that his restrained thrusts wrung from the other man had him hardening again almost instantly.
Nuzzling deep into the thick thatch of pubic hair, Sandy suckled, tongue lapping along the pulsing vein on the underside of Bruce's shaft.
He's taking it right in! Amazed; but unresisting, Bruce admired the enthusiasm with which his expanding length was drawn further and further into the hot interior. Suction, gentle but insistent, brought him to a second release, his seed jetting down the welcoming throat; the whiteout nearly overwhelmed him and it was only the strength in the firm hands holding him in place that enabled Bruce to keep his feet.

"You didn’t have to do that," Bruce murmured, as his senses gradually resumed something like normal functioning.
"I wanted to…" Sandy sighed, licking the last traces of the thick salty fluid from around his mouth. "I was looking at you as you came, and I just wanted to," He looked suddenly penitent. "Didn’t you like it? Sorry, I really should have asked…"
"I liked it." Bruce soothed, trailing his fingertips through the sweat‑dampened fringe along the other man's brow. "You couldn’t tell?"
"I was too busy coming again myself…" Sandy admitted.
"Hhmmm." Bruce pretended to think that over. "Then perhaps we should try some more things later on, so you can find out how to tell when I like something?"
"Sounds wonderful; but could we save it for later? Much later?" The blond yawned. "I'm shattered…"
"Me too," Making himself relatively decent, Bruce slumped down on the sofa.
"Bruce…"

"Mmm?" Despite the pleasant languor beginning to steal over Bruce, he politely forced open one eye and regarded his companion.
"Am I a good present?" The last two words came out as a long yawn.
"Best present I ever had…" Sated, Bruce was equally drowsy. "You do want to sleep now?"
"Just sleep, yes."
"And you won't feel uncomfortable when you wake up alone in a strange room?"
"Be fine…" Came the drowsy assurance.
"Good. I'll be right next-door." It was something of a relief to find that his companion was as disinclined to bed-sharing as Bruce himself: once asleep he had no control over what he might say or do, which left his secret identity threatened, apart from which most people didn’t react well to his frequently debilitating and distressing nightmares; at least this way he was spared both awkward apologies and explanations.
"Come on in when you wake up," Bruce offered, as he left to seek the relative comfort of his own bed. “Just be sure and knock first to give me a bit of warning.”
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The Birthday Present