Work Text:
Batman's Christmas Cheer
by Pirate Turner
Without a doubt, it was the roughest Christmas he'd ever spent as the Batman. Every prisoner in Arkham had managed to escape, thanks to the Joker's jovial planning and his head Elf Harley. Bruce smirked tiredly at the memory of the Joker in a Santa Claus suit and his girlfriend dressed up as what was supposed to be a sexy elf as he pulled the Batmobile into its parking place. He really should have told her that the clown makeup ruined any chance she may have had at being sexy, but then she'd never do it for him and the comment might make her think otherwise. A lustful clown was the last thing he needed.
Batman slowly extracted himself from the Batmobile. Every muscle in his body burned; every bone ached. He had been more exhausted than this in the past, but it had been a long time. They were times he didn't want to think about, he told himself. All he wanted now was to fall into bed, a bed he knew that Alfred had made and waiting for him.
He sighed as he wondered how long Alfred and young Tim had waited for him. Dick had had the same trouble with Christmas this year as he had, but at least he had sent him away a few hours earlier to spend what little remained of Christmas night with Barbara. Dick and Alfred understood, but would tiny Tim? Bruce smirked again. He really was too tired.
Tim's sad-eyed face haunted him as he logged away the quick notes he needed to in the Batcomputer. He had told Alfred to go ahead and let the boy open his presents, but Alfred had not liked the idea at all. He had finally relented when they'd had to accept that Bruce wouldn't be home in time for Christmas at all, but even then he'd made certain his disapproval was known and that he, just like Tim, wanted him home more than anything else.
Another sigh escaped Batman as he leaned over the computer. He had wanted nothing more than to be home for the holiday with his family, but as always, Gotham's denizenry had had other plans. One day, he vowed silently, there would be no more criminals for he would have stopped them all, and from that day forward, he would retire the Batman and live out the rest of his life happily with those he loved. Then there would be no stopping Bruce Wayne from being with his beloved and the boys who could no more be their children than if their own blood truly did course through their veins.
A soft clearing of a throat caused Batman to turn around, and a smile lit his face at the sight that he found. Waiting for him underneath the mistletoe that was a new addition to the entrance of the Batcave was his very own Christmas cheer. There stood Alfred with a welcome-home smile gracing his elegant mouth and a tray of milk and cookies held balanced perfectly upon one hand. "Welcome home, Master Bruce."
Their eyes met. Bruce ripped off his mask and let it drop, behind him, onto the console chair. He strode purposely forward, coming to a stop only when he stood directly in front of the butler who was so much, endlessly more than that to him. He had been a kinder and gentler father than even Bruce's own dad had been. His friendship and loyalty had stayed true to him always, and on more times than he could count, it was Alfred who had rescued Batman rather than the other way around. But what was so much more was that it was with this handsome, kind, gentle, compassionate, intelligent, and elegant man that Bruce had found love.
He stooped down just slightly enough that he could touch his lips to Alfred's. Alfred startled underneath the kiss, so used to having to hide their true feelings from young eyes was he, but then his cares and worries eased away under the heated, sensual massage of Bruce's mouth upon his. He opened his mouth with a sigh as he began to return the kiss, his passion quickly growing to meet his beloved's.
Bruce's tongue slipped easily into Alfred's mouth as he deepened the kiss. He wrapped a muscular arm around Alfred's tiny waist and pulled him gently closer. Alfred's moan of pleasure against his mouth brought Bruce's hand to begin wandering his body, caressing each spot it came across and hoping to be granted another moan.
Alfred's free hand ran over the leather that protected Bruce's chest, bringing shivers of delight from him and edging him closer still. They were as close as they could be with their clothes still on, Bruce even cradling Alfred's growing erection, when Bruce finally lifted his mouth from Alfred's. Gazing into his blue eyes, he spoke softly, "Get rid of the cookies."
"But, Master Bruce -- "
"And don't call me Master," Bruce added with a grin that edged on a smirk. It was an old joke between them, and he knew Alfred would never stop calling him his master. They had to keep the old habit up for their appearances, after all. His blue eyes twinkled. "Leave them for Santa Claus."
"But that's next year!" Alfred exclaimed, clearly surprised.
Bruce grinned. "And that's only a small portion of the time I want to spend alone with you in my bed." He kissed him again, this time even more passionately than the first, but still Alfred held the cookies.
Forcing himself to part once more from his love's sweet mouth, Bruce took the tray, walked over, and sat it down on a clear part of the Batcomputer. Then returning to Alfred with a devil-may-care grin gracing his handsome face, Bruce wrapped him in a tight hug before sweeping him up into his arms. He continued to kiss him as he carried him up the stairs. It was a merry Christmas, after all!
The End