Chapter Text
Picking up a second job seemed impossible as it was, but in this city, impossible was simply an understatement. Setting aside the corruption writhing in every crevice of Gotham’s very foundation, there were so many surface level nightmares that Edward would now literally be face to face with. Driving a taxi explored new depths to the city’s underbelly than he had ever cared to know existed. In the back of his mind, he knew they were there. The horrors of Gotham that never failed to make his skin crawl. The city is like a cage with the door wide open, but he just can’t bring himself to leave.
He’d only been working as a driver for a month now, maybe less than that. But he had already seen so much. Drop heads clambering into his car fresh off a hit, people clearly in deep states of drug induced psychosis. He’d even driven a woman away from a domestic abuse situation during a bad fight with her partner. Things he probably won’t ever forget. Taxi driving was hardly safe, either. Anyone can ask for a ride and there are rarely regulations for these kinds of things. Anything could happen. But he was desperate for the money.
It could be nice sometimes. His cigarette breaks, mostly. Like right now. He was leaning against the hood of his little yellow cab, near a street lamp. His car looked a sickly green in the light, and the rain drops looked the same. He watched them roll down the windshield as he took one last drag. A slight breeze hit the rain on his own face. It was a warm night, and the summer storms were much appreciated. This really was nice. As if on cue, sirens wailed in the distance. Edward chuckled to himself as he tossed the cigarette butt and climbed back into his car.
A light knock on the window. Edward looked up, inquisitively rolling it down about an inch.
“Are you uh. Working? Like, y’know, can I get a ride?” A tall man in all black was standing there, soaking wet, strands of his hair dripping onto his coat.
“Yeah. I’m working.” He rolled his window up and the man slid into the backseat, head hung like a puppy in trouble. Silence. Edward turned around to face him, “So about the ride?” The man looked confused, like he didn’t know what was being asked. Edward sighed. “Where am I taking you?”
“I, uh, I don’t really know. You can just drive around town for a little while. I’ll still pay you.”
“Well, that’s... yeah, okay, but I need some vague idea of where in town I’m going. Y’know, east-side, near the bay, something like that.” They made horrendously awkward eye contact before Edward swiftly turned to the steering wheel. “No worries, I’m just gonna head toward the boardwalk and you can tell me if you think of something.”
It was a few blocks before either of them spoke. To Edward’s surprise, he wasn’t the one to break the silence.
“Do you like this job?” He asked with some emotion Edward couldn’t quite read. As if he was only asking because he thought he was supposed to. Sympathy or pity, or both. Edward glanced at him in the mirror, briefly watching him play with his hands in his lap.
“Not particularly. But I like being able to afford food, so I guess I don’t dislike it. What about you? What do you do for work?”
“You mean you don’t know who I am?” The man half smiled at him in the rear-view. Edward frowned a little.
He waited until they hit a red light to try to get a better look. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He must have been too sleep deprived to tell at first.
“Ahhh.” What the fuck. “And what is the Bruce Wayne doing getting taxi rides?”
Edward was not fond of the Waynes. His accounting job had familiarized him with numbers; endless amounts of numbers all day long. He used his skills to dig around, trying to figure out what embezzling happens where in this city, and who money comes from or goes to. On his own time, he’d gone through all of the Wayne’s financial records he could get his hands on. Public records, even. Not because of the family particularly, but because of all the random spikes of cash in the hands of other prominent Gotham figureheads correlating to The Renewal.
He tried to focus on the road; it wasn’t a big deal. It was, but it wasn’t. This man’s family was practically the reason he was left in such horrific conditions for years. If The Renewal wasn’t such a grand failure, he would’ve been okay. Maybe not great, but his childhood years would’ve been so much better. The orphanage would’ve had funding. It was so easy. And Bruce never stepped up with the money he still had. Billions of it. ‘The Prince of Gotham’. It was a big deal. All of this childhood hatred came flooding back to him.
“If I’m being honest,” Bruce started, “I just don’t want to be me sometimes. Or a person at all. Cab rides, being a ‘regular’ person, getting away from it all. I do this every now and then.” The deafening silence following had Edward’s mind racing. ‘Or a person at all,’ Edward thought. How could one sentence humanize someone so fast? He’d never really heard Bruce talk. Like, ever. He never spoke during public outings or TV appearances. A reclusive child, thrust into the spotlight his parents left him. The anxiety must have followed him into adulthood.
But it was so hard to allow someone that anguish when Edward was the real victim. He had the scars to show from it, from clawing his way out his own personal hell. It was the Wayne's fault that he and the other children in the orphanage were left to rot. It felt so impossible to let Bruce have that sympathy when he had everything. Edward squeezed the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. His thoughts were racing a million miles per second. He had to take a deep breath, realizing it had probably been a full minute that Bruce was waiting on a reply.
“I mean,” he began as he collected his thoughts, “it must be nice. Y’know? It’s probably easy to do when this isn’t your everyday life. I have to do this to survive. Can’t imagine choosing to do this for kicks when you can afford to do anything else in the entire world. What kind of person goes on joyrides in impoverished neighborhoods anyways?” They were still ten minutes from the boardwalk, but it didn’t matter anymore. If Bruce was mad, he could get out and find another cab. Or walk.
It was silent for a moment, and the air was thick with an awkward tension.
“Are you okay?” Bruce’s smooth voice cut through the silence like it was butter. He seemed genuine. He lay a hand on Edward’s shoulder from behind, so light he could barely tell it was there. And it broke him.
“No. I’m not okay. There’s something fucking wrong with this city and I can’t fix it. And then the richest man in Gotham waltzes into my cab, my second job, because apparently one isn’t enough, and he tells me he does it for fun.” His voice began to tremble and he could feel a lump form in his throat. In the mirror, Bruce was looking down, and he looked guilty. “I’m supposed to just do this forever. I’m never going to be okay, I can’t afford to be okay.”
They pulled into a dead end alley, industrial trash cans on either side and deep puddles where potholes would never be filled. Edward turned the car off, hunched himself over the steering wheel, and began to sob. It was embarrassing, crying in front of a stranger, but god damn what a ridiculous turn of events. And Bruce wasn’t a stranger. He was, but he was simultaneously a major player in the game that was Edward’s life. Bruce Wayne could fix so many of Gotham’s most pressing issues, and not political issues either, but real, tangible issues that only just needed funding. Addiction, crime rates, homelessness, treatment for those in suffering. Money doesn’t buy happiness but, god, it could fix so many of the city’s illnesses. And for himself and the others like him, he cried.
Bruce was now leaned forward, propping himself up with his arm on the center console of the car. He reached his free hand out to gently rub up and down Edward’s back, which in turn made Edward cry harder. It had been so, so long since he’d been touched. Even something simple like this, it was almost unbearable.
“What can I do?” Bruce’s voice ran down Edward’s spine like hot wax and he didn't know why. He just needed the comfort so badly. But this man in the backseat was part of the reason he was crying at all. What a bizarre situation. “I want to help you, what can I do?” Edward took a few shaky, deep breaths to try and calm himself down, and leaned back in his seat. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before letting his head roll to the side to look at Bruce.
“I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry.”
They stared at each other in silence, but only for a few seconds. Edward wiped his face with the back of his hand and just sat. He focused on his breathing, eyes closed, and let the anxiety wash over him until it didn’t anymore. He was so overwhelmed, emotions so bottled up that maybe he should thank Bruce for getting him to finally cry. For the first time in who knows how long.
“I don’t know if I can finish the drive, Bruce. I think I need to go home.”
“Yeah, no, don’t worry, that’s fine. I didn’t really need to get anywhere anyways.” He was quiet for a moment, glancing down before back up at Edward. “I never got your name.”
Edward looked down at him, shifting in his seat.
“Uh. Edward.”
“Edward,” Bruce repeated. “Look, I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how you feel, but I, um, I don’t know... I’m sorry I offended you.”
“It’s okay. I just have a lot on my plate right now. Bills due, my other jobs sucks just as bad. I’m just tired. Not the kind that you can sleep off.”
“I know you don’t think so but I do understand that. The last part, I mean. It’s hard. To just be.”
“I would definitely feel better with fat stacks of cash though,” Edward mused. He was so exhausted. Maybe it wasn’t right to blame Bruce for his father’s wrongdoings. But he never tried to right them. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He closed his eyes and just lay back. They sat in silence for a long while. Minutes.
“Are you okay?”
Edward opened his eyes at this.
“No. But I’m fine for now.”
“That’s good to hear, I think..." He paused. "Uh, this is awful timing but your hair is really nice.”
Edward did a double take.
“What?” He laughed out loud, putting his hand over his mouth, expecting Bruce to laugh too. He didn’t, though. He was serious and Edward could see it on his face. He felt his shoulders start to burn and his heart was pounding in his ears. “Oh no, you’re not joking.”
“Look, I don’t know,” Bruce trailed off. “Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking sorry.”
“No, it’s fine, I just,” Edward shook his head. “It’s just kind of funny. You’re complimenting me after all that?”
“You’re just pretty, I don’t know.” A brief second of agonizingly awkward eye contact passed before Edward was painfully aware of how close they were.
“You’re kidding.” His smile faded. Bruce was still poker faced. “You’re not kidding. Seriously?”
Bruce leaned in more, enough that Edward could feel his breath and smell his cologne. His slender fingers snaked up the side of Edward’s face, thumb rubbing against his cheek. Edward was sure his heart was beating loud enough for Bruce to hear. It had been so long since Edward had felt intimacy that even this alone already had him getting hard. It was humiliating, but he’d craved touch, affection, anything, for such a painfully long time that he almost didn’t care who gave it.
“So,” Bruce breathed. Edward hesitantly closed the kiss. Just a peck. Then one more. Bruce’s hand made its way to the back of Edward’s head, tangled in his hair, keeping him there for the third kiss. His brain turned to mush as he melted in the clammy hands of this man he should be kicking out of his car. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
Bruce gently sucked Edward’s bottom lip, drawing a shaky breath out of him. He couldn’t help it. It had been so, so long. He put his hands in his lap, trying to hide his erection but even lightly touching it through his pants had him squirming. Apparently, he wasn’t as inconspicuous as he thought, and Bruce reached a hand down to rub him through his jeans.
“Wait,” Edward barely broke the kiss and Bruce immediately pulled away. The harshness of he cold air hitting Edward’s wet lips made him feel exposed.
“I’m sorry, Edward, I can stop if you want me to, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”
“No no, it’s okay, I just. If we’re going to go farther, I would rather move back there.” His hands were trembling, partially out of the pure adrenaline coursing through him, but he was also reeling from the intensity and absurdity of everything that just happened. Bruce let out a sigh of relief and pulled Edward into the back seat with him. They were both shedding their layers of clothing until Bruce was in his jeans and Edward, in a basic dark green tee and briefs.
Bruce pushed Edward up against the door, nestling in between his legs. It was uncomfortable, the hard curves of the door digging into his back, but he couldn’t even think to care. He was a mess.
“God,” Bruce mumbled, leaning into the crook of Edward’s neck. He was giving him a hickey, and it was rough, but sweet. The teeth digging into his skin caused him to whimper, and Bruce hummed deeply in response. He wrapped his legs around him, taking deep breaths to try to come back reality. Was this really happening?
Bruce was astonishingly fit, and Edward never would have guessed. Muscles rippled all over Bruce’s back as he moved, in such stark contrast with his soft, ghostly pale skin. The cab was dark, but even in the dim lighting, Edward could see every detail. He was littered with scars. Not like the ones Edward had, but peppered all over different parts of him. A particularly long scar ran across Bruce’s shoulder blades, and Edward was just stunned. He was so fucking beautiful.
Bruce reached down to softly touch Edward through his underwear and Edward buried his face in the younger man’s chest. Bruce was kissing his forehead, or more just leaving his lips there while he pulled Edward’s erection out from his briefs. He began slow with his strokes, while Edward strained breathlessly. He grabbed Bruce’s hand, who pulled away to meet his gaze. He held the younger man's hand in front of his mouth and spit in it.
Bruce smirked, reaching back down to continue stroking the brunette’s cock; this time, slick and wet. Edward lost it. He bucked his hips, fucking Bruce’s hand and whimpering. He put his hand over his mouth, but Bruce grabbed his wrist and pulled it away.
“I want to hear you.” It was hardly a suggestion; it was a demand. Edward nodded. It was like the wind had gotten knocked out of him. He could hardly breathe, the younger man was teasing him relentlessly now. Hand cupped over the tip of Edward’s cock, stroking in a way that resulted in the brunette choke out a sob.
“Stopstopstop, please, it’s sensitive, I’m not- ahh, it’s been a long time,” Edward blurted out. He was having a hard time thinking but he knew he wouldn’t last long like this. “Seriously, it’s too much, don’t-” Bruce cut him off with a finger over his mouth. He had stopped in his tracks, roughly squeezing Edward’s dick.
“You don’t tell me what to do. You’ll let me know when you get close, and I’ll do everything else. Do you understand?” Bruce spoke slowly, drilling the words into Edward. He nodded vigorously and took a deep breath when Bruce let go of his mouth. Bruce spit into his own hand before continuing, faster and more firm this time. It was humiliating how little it took before Edward was panting and choking out stifled whimpers.
“Stop, wait I’m close-” Edward could barely manage to get his sentence out before Bruce let go of him. He was gasping for air, now because of how hot the car was becoming. Moisture was beading on the windows, condensing and clinging to the glass from the warm breath and all of the heat the two men were creating. The car was now incredibly humid and Edward was struggling to get enough oxygen.
Before he could continue his observation, Bruce was back at it, the same pace and Edward’s head was spinning. He felt trapped by his overwhelming surroundings, starting to get dizzy from pure adrenaline, anxiety, and pleasure. He didn’t know what to do, so he hugged Bruce tightly, digging his nails into the other man’s back. To his surprise, Bruce let out a moan of his own. This sent Edward over the edge.
“I’m close, stop!” And once again, even though he knew it would happen, Bruce let go. But it made his stomach drop, the unbearable feeling of his orgasm being denied. In his small handful of past sexual experiences, no one had ever done something like this to him. It felt like a punishment, but he knew there would be a reward, right? There’s no way after all of this, Bruce would just leave him at the edge... Right?
“Edward,” Bruce strained, kissing the older man’s neck, “I want to fuck you. Can I?” Edward’s heart hammered in his chest. He had never had sex with another man before. Weird experimental make out sessions as a horny teenager were only ever that. He wanted to say yes but he didn’t know what to expect. But he felt so wanted. He had never felt this wanted. This hunky billionaire was asking, pleading even, to fuck him. “I have a condom. You can say no.” He was being so kind in asking for something so depraved. To fuck Edward in the back of his own taxi cab. While he’s on the clock. He couldn't say no.
“Okay, but I’ve never done this before. Promise you’ll be nice to me.” Edward knew it was bold, letting a horny stranger make promises but he was nervous and needed reassurance. Even if it was purely performative.
“I promise. I promise.” Bruce unzipped his pants, stroking himself a few times, sucking his teeth. He was much larger than Edward, in length and girth both. He hurriedly got the condom on and slicked himself with spit while Edward watched. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, and locking eyes with Bruce, he realized the younger man was clearly experienced. Bruce grabbed Edward’s legs and hooked them on his arms. “It's gonna hurt a little. Tell me if you need me to stop.” Bruce was keeping deep eye contact while lining up and pressing against him.
A burning sensation prickled up Edward’s spine as Bruce pressed hard against his hole, but it wasn’t horrible. It felt like it wasn’t going to go in, and just as he was about to speak, the tip of Bruce’s cock slid in, getting through the initial ring of muscles. He yelped, clasping a hand over his mouth. It did hurt; it was foreign and uncomfortable, but he wanted it. The younger man let out a deep sigh, like he’d been holding his breath the whole time. He pushed Edward’s legs up, pausing before going any farther.
“Are you okay?”
Edward nodded. The girth alone was nearly unbearable, but now Bruce’s overwhelming length was becoming increasingly obvious. He was being stretched open. Such an incredibly strong feeling of defenselessness washed over him and he started to tremble. It was humiliating, being exposed in this way, and his stomach began to cramp. He didn’t want it to stop but he didn’t expect to feel vulnerability like this. He was at Bruce’s mercy.
Once Bruce bottomed out, he kissed Edward’s forehead, which was plastered with his sweaty hair.
“Is this why you didn’t let me finish?”
“I was going to make you cum either way.” A chill ran up Edward’s spine. “Tell me when you’re ready.” Edward’s heart sunk to the floor and back. He didn’t know when he would be ready but he didn’t want to be a bad fuck. He tried to let go of his fears; to let himself take this risk. He hugged Bruce, trying his best to prepare himself. They embraced for a few moments.
“I think I’m ready.” He knew almost certainly that he wasn’t, but he sought some control of the situation. With Bruce being so commanding, Edward was only in charge of things that Bruce wouldn’t deny him. Seemingly anything in relation to his boundaries. He chose to do this but he didn’t realize Bruce was such a control freak. Or maybe it was a kink thing. It was probably a kink thing.
Bruce’s movements started slow and shallow, hardly moving at all but rocking back and forth just enough. He grabbed Edward’s cock and began with the very same rhythm as his thrusts. Then he started rolling his hips, pulling out further and pressing in deeper than before. Edward was holding his breath. He couldn’t focus, so much was going on and it felt like brain was going to melt into a puddle. Bruce Wayne, fucking him in an alley. That would certainly get the tabloids attention.
“Come on, baby, let me hear you. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”
Edward had never been called a good boy before in his life but now it was too late to turn back. The hair on his neck stood up and his stomach turned. He let out the breath he was holding with a drawn out whine. “Fuuuck.”
Bruce’s movements were fluid; he had so much control of his body. Edward dug his nails into Bruce’s shoulders, unsure if he was going to break the skin or not. He was starting to feel claustrophobic, not only because he was in a hot car, but because Bruce was doing so much to his body that he couldn’t take it. He rarely even masturbated these days so all of these things on top of the thrill of fucking a stranger on a whim made his stomach whirl.
Bruce held out two fingers, and Edward quickly took them into his mouth. They were salty, from sweat and the spit from before. It was gross, but Edward liked it. He couldn’t help it. Bruce pried the older man’s mouth open, pinning his tongue beneath his thumb. He spat right in his mouth. Edward was a little shocked, but went along with it.
“Swallow it.” Bruce commanded. “I’m not going to tell you twice.” He obeyed but he couldn’t keep up with Bruce anymore. So much was going on. He hated Bruce, had envied him his entire life, yet here he was, being utterly dominated by him. He’d seen Bruce years ago in his church’s choir during high school. How did they get here? He was in shock over the situation. So many conflicting emotions waged a war in his head.
He felt his eyes well up. Warm tears started to roll down his cheeks. He couldn’t stop, and he buried his face in his hands as he choked on his own sobs. “Was that too much?” Bruce asked. Edward shook his head. He was fine but he was so unbelievably overstimulated. His body ached, his head hurt, his heart hurt. Bruce kissed his forehead and gently moved the older man’s hands away from his face. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”
Bruce started a new rhythm, pulling out nearly all the way, then sinking back in as far as he could. Edward could hardly breathe, he was crying so hard. He was enjoying himself, really, but it was too much. He could hardly get his own moans out of his throat. He was whimpering, grabbing onto Bruce’s forearms, trying to ground himself in some way. The younger man began teasing the tip of Edward’s cock the way he had been earlier, when he was edging him. He immediately gasped and squirmed, as if it would help him escape that feeling. Bruce squeezed him, hard.
“Do you want to cum?” Bruce’s voice was so smooth, taunting Edward. He nodded, and tried to take deep breaths. He was dizzy and his head was throbbing. “Are you okay?” He nodded again. “Then you won’t mind this?” Edward barely had time to understand the question before Bruce pushed his legs back farther than he thought he could bare. He started relentlessly pounding him, hitting his prostate over and over again.
“Fuckfuckfuck wait stop, stop,” he begged, “please, I’m close, I’m close!” Bruce let go of his cock, but didn’t stop fucking him. Edward felt that familiar heat pool in his stomach, and it was too late. His orgasm hit him like a train, wracking him to the core. He had never cum this hard in his life and he was seeing stars. He came on his stomach, sobbing as Bruce fucked him through his orgasm. To his horror, the younger man grabbed his dick again. “Wait please don’t, please-” Bruce was using his cum as lube to jerk him off more. He was so oversensitive that he desperately tried to get away from Bruce but there was nowhere to go. The look on Bruce’s face said it all; he got off on watching Edward cry.
He thought what Bruce said earlier was just to make him feel less embarrassed, or to incorporate the crying into their sex without making it awkward, but no. Bruce wanted to see him cry. Which is probably what set him off earlier, before any of this. What did that say about Bruce, dominating Edward like this to make him cry more?
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Edward?” He could hardly even move. The overstimulation hurt so good, and all he could do was cry. He was a whiney mess. Bruce grabbed his face, squishing his cheeks between his index and thumb. “I asked you a question.” Edward just nodded as best he could. His mind was so numb and he was coming down from his adrenaline rush. He had nothing left to give.
Bruce let go of Edward only to wrap his arms all the way around him and hug him tight as he came. He was moaning in the brunette’s ear, and it was the most noise he’d made the whole time. His voice strained, panting as he fucked Edward through his own orgasm. He thrust slowly after he was done, maybe to overstimulate himself a little as well. He looked down, wiping the older man’s tears as he slowed to a halt.
Bruce kissed him, many times, pulling out slowly and gently. Edward was so disoriented he couldn't move. He just watched Bruce clean them both with a handkerchief from his coat. He didn't know how to process the situation. Everything felt hazy. He dissociated for quite some time in the silence.
“I want to see you again, Edward."