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archiveofidentityconstellations · 5 years

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birds all sing | part 2

part 1

and we’re back! chapter has been revised for the better! enjoy!

August

“That’s right, give it a good hard stare. Make that menu tell you all its secrets.”

Selina’s whisper tickled his ear, which would have been pleasant if Bruce wasn’t so infuriated. The past couple of weeks had not gone according to plan. For one thing, Tim had not quit. Rather, he had reached into his resources and manipulated multiple employees as well as members of the board. Bruce couldn’t count how many visits of “good will” he had received since last week, hoping to make him “aware” in subtle terms of their position. Bruce wasn’t surprised, per se, at the actions Tim had taken. He had been a resourceful boy and now was a rather ruthless…man. Bruce adjusted in his seat. That was a trait that he had cultivated in him, and now the tables had turned. He did not regret cultivating the trait, not for an instant. Tim was the most cerebral of his sons, the one he could rely on to do what must be done, even to his detriment.

Especially to his detriment.

“Have you even tried talking to him?”

Barbara’s voice had been snappish, dry, and derisive, though lacking any real bite. Bruce had stopped by the clocktower in lieu of Tim for the monthly check-in. Bruce, being an adult, had kept the details of the situation from the family.

Which meant that Barbara had interrogated him the minute he stepped into the clocktower.

“It’s not about that,” he had told her. At her look he explained, “Tim is young. He’s young and he’s never branched out. Besides that, he never proceeds with the expected. He didn’t throw a shampoo bottle at my head and move out like Dick did. He left home by time I returned, and his lifestyle hasn’t been investigated since then.”

“You really think getting married is his act of rebellion?”

Her tone was not flattering. Bruce bristled.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” he said. “Children are—“

“I think you don’t understand, Bruce, I really think you don’t,” she interrupted. “This isn’t a catch-all situation, it never is. You always think there’s a formula to these things. Why, I don’t know, especially since the fall-out is always terrible. My ears are still ringing from Jason’s tantrum in the eighth grade. You wouldn’t let him know why he wasn’t allowed to go on that D. C. field trip, remember that?”

Bruce did.

“Look,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m not here to argue or to lecture or any of that. I don’t think you’d listen to me if I did, though I’d try my damndest to make you.”

He scoffed. She smirked.

“I just want you to consider that this isn’t about you.”

Bruce paused. “How could this not be about me?”

“You get wrapped up in yourself, Bruce.”

Bruce cleared his throat, ready to deny this, but then Barbara sighed in a knowing way, cutting him off.

"I'm not here to argue about semantics," she said, looking at him behind her glasses. "Just consider that people, your children, everyone around you—we all have our own melodrama,” she said. “And we’re the main character in it. You’re the sidekick in this scenario.”

He stuck his tongue in the side of his cheek, blinking mulishly.

Barbara sighed. “He’s not doing this to hurt you.”

“He put Bosch in the office,” Bruce protested.

A beat.

“He’s doing this to hurt you a little.”

Tim was sending a message, and it was personal. Besides all the office machinations and manipulations, he had taken to hiding out in Stephanie’s apartment, a place he knew Bruce wouldn’t visit. Not only that, but he went out of town for his birthday, decidedly not inviting the family or even letting Bruce know his plans.

Bruce didn’t know how to feel about that.

It wasn’t that either of them were especially attached to their birthdays, but ever since Tim had been adopted things had been—well. Different. Bruce had tried, put in more effort than he realized, in recognizing Tim’s birthday every year. He knew the boy’s parents hadn’t made it home more than not, and Tim had mentioned that through the years, a sure indication that it bothered him even if he didn’t admit to it. But Tim’s twentieth birthday had dawned bright and clear, and he had ensured that Bruce wouldn’t be part of it.

If Bruce was being honest, it hurt.

He had tried, damnit, and to have that effort thrown back in his face just because of a fight—Tim was supposed to be the good one. The understanding one, the easy one.

Bruce clenched his fists. Tim was supposed to be the reliable one.

“Maybe you should take that menu outside.”

Bruce looked at Selina. She quirked a brow at him.

“What, no come-ons? No sweet nothings about how good she looks?” She reached over and twisted the menu in Bruce’s hands, keen eyes surveying the width of the menu. She whistled. “I hear she also knows how to cook.”

Bruce didn’t smile, but it was a near thing. “I’m not ignoring you.”

Selina set her elbow on the table, leaning her head on her hand. “Oh?” She dragged a finger around his temple, long, scratching nail almost making him shiver. Almost. “You haven’t been paying attention to me either.” She pouted playfully, but her moue disappeared when Bruce only hummed. Her green eyes widened. “What’s wrong?”

Bruce hesitated. But before he could answer a waiter was directing a friendly-looking couple to their table. Selina sent him a look and stood up; time to meet the in-laws. Selina and her sister Maggie had discovered each other years ago after losing contact for more than twenty years due to foster care. Maggie had been shipped off to California and adopted. It was only after she had married Simon that Selina had brokered contact, and now his fiancé was deadset on including Maggie in the wedding details. Which meant meeting the groom. Which meant Bruce.

He sighed around his water goblet, taking a swallow and pasting a smile on his face when he shook Simon’s hand.

The situation with Tim could wait. Bruce had made it this far, he could hold it together for another hour.

“So then she said, ‘I sent my draft over’ and I was like ‘bullshit’ and then he went ‘I think we can all understand that folks have been busy’ and I was like ‘BULLSHIT’ and then she said ‘It’s not my fault that you spent all night working on it’ and she knows the grade is based on a group effort, it’s not individual, so I was about to go all Solange Knowles in the elevator, and THEN--"

Tim set his head against the wheel.

Stephanie tapped her fingers against his skull. “Honey? I know that my dramatic retelling of my summer class might be boring but you need to keep your head up to see the traffic light.” She tapped again. “Chop chop, eyes on the road.”

Tim obliged. “I’m losing it, Steph,” he murmured. “I’m losing it.”

“I’ll help you find it,” she assured him. “In the meantime we can share mine. Don’t crash my car. Now, where was I? Oh yeah, the elevator. So THEN—“

"It’s just,” he began, “he is up my ass—”

“Oh wow,” said Stephanie. “I have no idea what that feels like. I feel so sorry for you.”

Tim sent her an unimpressed look. She smiled beatifically at him. He reached over and pinched her thigh. Steph gave a shriek of laughter and drew her knees up to her chest. “Both hands on the wheel, Timothy Drake!”

He laughed and returned to the wheel, eyes scanning the road.

“But really,” she said, continuing their conversation. “He’s just in one of his Moods. You just have to ride it out.”

“Screw that,” Tim muttered.

“What is up with you two anyways? Normally you let him go crazy-anal and don’t get defensive about it at all.”

“Did you just call me a suck-up?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Seriously, though. You’re obviously unhappy. What happened?”

“He just…he’s too much. And I’m sick of it. You know he was trying to get me to go to college?”

“Yeah, I only heard about it twenty times.”

“Well,” he flicked on the signal, “he basically threatened to fire me if I don’t do what he wants.”

“No! Wait, this is Bruce we’re talking about. Yes!”

“So I’ve basically been getting back at him at the office. And on patrol. And at home.”

“Is this why you’ve been sleeping at my place?”

He didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. “Yes.”

“Okay, while I love that you’re using me as a tool to piss off your dad,” Steph took a sip from her water bottle, “what do I get from providing sanctuary?”

“I’m getting you a new car for your birthday,” Tim deadpanned.

“Volvo?”

“Lexus.”

She leaned over and smacked a resounding kiss on his cheek. “Mwah!”

He grinned.

“Has Bruce retaliated yet?”

“No,” he admitted, bitter and not sure of the reason why, “but then again I’ve tied his hands. I made Tam hold all my calls.”

Stephanie burst out laughing. “Oh Tim,” she gasped. “This is Mean Girls petty and I should say I’m disappointed in both of you but I’m also loving this?”

Tim gave a half-smile but didn’t respond. It had seemed fun, at first. Hitting Bruce where it hurt, like he had done to him. But after the third quasi-manic episode at the office (which had included balloons and Eiffel 65 blaring—he didn’t want to talk about it), it felt…empty. Like no matter what he did, Bruce was still going to think of him the same and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. There was no concept of a permanent sense of self, only a ‘Bruce sense of self.’ That didn’t mean he stopped the lying and manipulation; he just felt strange using Lucius for personal reasons. Like giving Bruce the finger.

Tim shifted in his seat, barely listening to Stephanie chatter. He thought about actual aggressive “negotiations” with the man. He visualized launching himself at Bruce and choking him out.

Tim hummed, considerate. He took a left, merging onto the highway.

Not that he could really do anything. He’d just hang there, like a Tim-sized necktie.

But it’s the thought that counts.

“—And so then I’m stuck between two seats, my tongue almost touching the—hey!” Stephanie took her feet off the dashboard in surprise. “Why did you go on the 95? You know it always gets backed up.”

“Does it matter? Do you have to pee?”

“No, that’s not it.” Her eyes narrowed at the traffic. “We talked about ordering in tonight, and China Panda closes at eight.”

“I’m sure we’ll get home by—”

“You KNOW the 95 takes hours ever since they closed Doyle Pike, it takes—”

“Shit,” Tim swore. “For god’s sake Stephanie, you couldn’t have warned me?”

“I did!” she said shrilly. “I literally got into the car and the first thing I did was remind you about Doyle Pike and Mallowan Road and asked you if you had stopped off because I had less than half a tank of—”

The car gave a sputter.

Tim’s heart went cold.

“No.”

It jerked.

“Nonononono—”

It stopped.

This was hell.

Bruce examined the cutlery for the twenty-fourth time (he had counted). Silver, same as last time. It wasn’t as if he disliked his future in-laws. They were very nice people. Very…nice.

“And just think,” Maggie was saying, “after the wedding you could come visit us in California!”

“Yeah,” said Selina, face lighting up when she spotted their waiter across the room.

“And you could meet Linus!”

“Our son,” Simon explained, smiling at Bruce.

“Maybe you could even bring a friend for him,” said Maggie. She raised her eyebrows, alluding to something Selina knew about, for her sister smiled testily at her.

“Our waiter is coming,” she snapped, pushing the appetizer plates out of the way.

Maggie unrolled her napkin. “And Linus could even meet all the other kids! You have six, don’t you?”

If Bruce was surprised at being addressed, he didn’t show it. “I do.”

“You adopted, right?”

“I did.”

“I’m part of a blended family too!” she exclaimed. “I mean, besides Selina. I was adopted into a family, there were four of us until mom had Constance. I was seventeen, but I loved having a baby around, I think it really shaped me as an individual. What do you think about large age gaps between siblings?”

“Look, bread,” Selina announced. “Bruce, eat the bread.”

Bruce ate it.

Maggie moved on from her question, listing off her siblings’ names and dipping her bread with gusto, but Bruce considered it. Had his children’s ages and life experiences influenced the younger ones’ decisions? He knew that Damian was far more tactile due to Dick’s impact, and he likely would not be that way had he only been involved with Bruce. Perhaps that was what was going on with Tim. Perhaps there was some outside influence at work here, something (or someone, he thought to himself bitterly), that made Tim so stubborn. He knew the boy didn’t used to be this bad. He used to be able to wait him out. He remembered a specific scenario, giving Tim a look and Tim had immediately come clean, sniffling all the while.

Granted, he had been twelve at the time, but still.

There was something to this situation, an aspect Bruce hadn’t considered.

“What date for the wedding were you thinking?” asked Simon, stepping in when his wife paused for breath. “Have you set one yet?”

“Not yet,” Selina replied. “Look, food.”

Their waiter set down their entrees. Bruce unrolled his napkin amidst Maggie’s excited report on flexible venues.

“—And after a year or two the booking is still good!” she exclaimed. “So if anything comes up—”

“Nothing will. Bruce, steak.”

Bruce obligingly cut up his steak.

Although, perhaps an outside influence wasn’t the answer. Perhaps the answer was that Timothy felt that lies and manipulations were a viable tool of communication. Perhaps Timothy believed that respect was not warranted, not to his family, and not to Bruce. Bruce, you know, the man otherwise known as his father? Perhaps Timothy felt as though he should be able to do things with zero consequences. Perhaps Timothy thought that Bruce was stupid. Perhaps Timothy thought that it was funny that Bruce cared about him, that he wanted to see him succeed. Perhaps Timothy should be forced to cooperate, should answer his questions that he hadn’t bothered to ask because Timothy would feed him lies, all that boy did was lie, he woke in the morning and thought “How can I lie to Bruce today?” because lying about sleeping and his caffeine intake and his plans for school and where he was going to live and whose ring was in his closet—

“Bruce, chew.”

Bruce chewed angrily, snapping his jaws together.

“It is a lot,” Maggie was saying. At that point Selina had decimated all the breadsticks, wheat corpses mangled across the tablecloth. “I mean, I’m exhausted,” she admitted. “I’ll never sleep the same again, I swear it. But Linus is just so amazing. I can hardly believe that God gave me a baby, and that I get to have such a wonderful one. Especially after we struggled so much.”

Simon met his wife’s eyes, smiling reassuringly at her.

Selina paused. Her face gentled. She set her hand on her sister’s arm. “I have no doubt that you are a great mom, Maggie.”

Maggie bit her lip to cover up its tremble. “Thank you,” she whispered. She then cleared her throat and picked up her wine glass. “All in all, children are such a blessing,” she concluded.

Selina returned her hands to the table, face pinched again. She took a sip of her water.

Bruce twisted the napkin in his hands.

“I mean, what could be better than children?”

Sip.

Twist.

“I mean, they really are such a blessing!”

Sip.

Twist.

“Don’t you think, Selina?”

“Unf,” agreed Selina around a huge gulp of water. It spilled out of her mouth.

Twist.

“Plus, Simon and I are enjoying all these firsts of parenthood,” Maggie continued. “First time they roll over, first time they coo—”

Twist.

“First time they smile,” Simon added. They smiled at each.

Twist. Twist. Twist twist twist twist twist—

“And we’re so excited for what comes next!” Maggie squealed. “The first time they crawl, the first step, the first word—”

“The first time they set up an elaborate lie and tell you that they’re going to live with an imaginary uncle.”

The table went silent.

“PUSH!”

“I am pushing!” he bellowed.

Stephanie stuck her head out the window, eyes fixed upon him and definitely not on the road. “Push harder!”

Tim rolled his eyes. He planted his hands against the back of Steph’s 2003 Toyota Corolla and pushed. His heels lifted from the exertion, but he kept going. Sweat dripped and fell on the black tarmac. Cars inched forward behind him, growing more and more discontent.

Step by arduous step, they crawled up the highway.

Of course this would happen on the hottest day in Gotham City since 1999.

Of course today, of all days, this would happen. The climax of the truly spectacularly shitty summer. The summer a la Bruce, with special appearances by judgement and paternal harassment. Of course Tim would forget to fill the car up with gas. Of course. Of course! OF FUCKING COURSE.

“Do you want me to push?”

Tim leaned to his left, meeting her eyes. “No. Keep your eyes on the road.”

“Are you sure?”

“Steph!” he shouted. “Keep your eyes on the goddamn road!”

“Okay fine!”

Her head disappeared inside. Tim hissed, hands slipping off the hot metal. “Shit,” he muttered, throwing his weight into the next push. The car behind him hovered, then quickly cut into the next lane. Horns immediately started blaring. “Let them in!” he shouted, in a rare show of traffic consideration. “We’re not going anywhere, let them in!”

Gotham’s heart must have grown three sizes since Tuesday, because, miraculously enough, the car in the next lane let them in. A line of cars merged over like a shiny caterpillar in the sun. Tim wiped his brow on his shoulder, arms straining with effort.

This was shit. Complete and utter shit. It wasn’t even funny in that cosmic, haha, look at this human fail, what does he know sort of way. It was shit. That’s all it was. There wasn’t a bright side or a “trial of soul” as Jason liked to say. It was just shit. His life was shit, his relationship with his dad was shit, his job was going down the tube, everything was shit.

Tim grit his teeth. The next lane’s goodwill had worn off, so cars were piling up behind him again. It really was a matter of time before he was run over, and at this point he would welcome it.

The driver door slammed open. He looked up.

“Switch!” Steph yelled, popping out of the car and racing around it, “Switch!”

Tim, without knowing he was doing it, dashed to the front seat. “This is a dumb idea!” he said. He adjusted the seat.

“Keep the windows rolled down!” was the reply. “Sometimes the wind picks up and you get a faint breeze!”

“Steph!”

The car suddenly heaved forward.

“What did you do?”

“I kicked it!”

“Don’t kick the car!”

“It’s my car!”

“I’m going to push again!”

“No!” Another heave. “It’s my turn! You rest!”

The car was moving faster than it was before. Tim tried not to let that rankle. Of course he would fail at pushing, he couldn’t do anything right nowadays. If he ever had. He groaned, slamming his head back against the headrest. It was bull self-pity, but at this point it was all he had. Bruce had basically already kicked him out of the family, and now was attempting to get him out of Gotham. Which, you know, pissed him off. Gotham was his home too, and he didn’t go around ordering people out of it. It was like Jason said, they all served the same mistress. Helluva lover, though. Tim brushed his knuckles over his jaw; he winced. Since fighting with Bruce he hadn’t bothered to check in, not even for patrol, which had resulted in no back up with some rather nasty bruises to show for it. Was it immature? Yes. Did Bruce absolutely deserve it? Yes. Tim couldn’t believe that he had had to hide at Stephanie’s apartment to escape him. He had been wearing the same business suits in rotation for a week, too scared to go back to his place and be immediately jumped and shipped off to Oxford. He imagined himself stuffed into a suitcase, strapped down to the luggage area of the batplane. Tim frowned.

And yet on the other hand, why was he fighting this at all? Bruce had made it clear, been explicit when he threatened to fire him, that he didn’t want Tim around anymore. Which, he’ll be honest, hurt his feelings. A lot. (He may have laid face-down on Steph’s couch and emitted dying squirrel noises at low moments, couldn’t be sure.) Why did Tim always do this? Why did he stick his nose into places where he was unwanted? Why did he slide into places with no room and insist he be allowed to stay?

This…wasn’t what he wanted. None of this was what he wanted. Maybe it was better he just take the hint and go. He wasn’t legally part of the family anyways, having been emancipated years ago. After Bruce got his way, there would be nothing holding him here.

“This sucks,” he whispered.

“HUH?”

“I said this SUCKS,” he shouted out the window.

“It’s all right!” she shouted back encouragingly. “It’s just like my eighth birthday! You get to live a day in the life, rich boy!”

Tim closed his eyes. Hot tears gathered around his eyelashes, but he didn’t let them fall.

Bruce always got his way. One way or another, Bruce always got his way. It was like the universe was curved to suit him and all the rest of the sorry bastards had to fight for the scraps. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Nothing was ever fair, and that sucked.

Life sucked, Bruce sucked, Tim sucked.

“Tim!” shouted Steph. “Hon, you’re veering!”

Quick as a jolt, Tim opened his eyes and righted the wheels in the nick of time. Stephanie crowed in delight and the car heaved forward again from her kick.

Everything sucked.

But Stephanie didn’t.

Stephanie had been great about everything, like she always was. She hadn’t pushed him to explain and she made him coffee in the mornings, even gave him that stupid red mug that was made more for soup than coffee. She dealt with his stupid crap and mood swings and insisted that they go buy more suits for him because he was “starting to look like a business gigolo making ends meet” and had even made him laugh when he was being fitted because that’s what Steph did, she made everything brighter and happier and made the world not seem so bad.

Everything sucked, but Stephanie Brown didn’t.

“Switch!” he yelled suddenly, hopping out of the car, foot caught beneath the seat. He stumbled. “Switch!”

“No!” Stephanie yelled, but she was already halfway there.

“My turn!” Tim insisted, hair flopping in his eyes. He rounded the trunk, skidding into position. “Don’t worry, it’s my turn!”

Bruce always got what he wanted, but not this time. It was his turn. He pushed the car, ignoring the blisters on his heels.

Tim was staying.

“And they think you don’t know, they think you’re over the hills and simply believe them when they say they’re not doing what you know they’re doing. They think you’re an idiot that goes, ‘huh, they must be telling the truth because in this family we honor our word and respect each other enough to be honest.’ HAH!”

Maggie dropped her silverware.

“And you wonder, how long has this been going on? How long have you been going behind my back and doing EXACTLY what I told you not do!”

The couple at the next table looked over. Bruce didn’t notice.

“’Well, Dad, it’s been three weeks,” Bruce said, parroting a teenager’s voice. “And you haven’t confronted me so I’m going to assume that you’re alright with me lying to your face! Ha ha!’”

“This is really good,” Selina commented, taking another bite of her food.

“’Ha ha’?” Bruce repeated incredulously. “‘Ha ha’? How about I ground you for two months, that’s a ‘ha ha’ for me!”

“It’s got like this…” Selina quirked a brow in thought. “Lemony texture? It’s really fresh.”

“But you can’t do that, because while you were living your life, trying to ensure that everyone is doing alright because you can’t just let things go—”

“No kidding,” muttered someone behind them.

“Is that Bruce Wayne?” said another.

“—like others do! You know what happens when other people let things go?” He waved his hands. “Nothing! You know what happens when I let things go? Cataclysm!”

“What?” asked Maggie, puzzled. She leaned closer to Simon. He took her hand under the table.

“So while you were trying to prevent another cataclysm, they go off and grow up! So you can’t ground them, you just have to look them in the eyes while they smile and wreak havoc and tell you everything is fine.”

“So good. I’m definitely getting dessert.”

“And you just want to…” Bruce mimed closing his hands around a neck, “wring them by their skinny little neck and say ‘I know you’re LYING to me, you little SHIT!’”

The couple jerked.

“‘I know you’ve been lying to me,’” Bruce continued, caught up in his fantasy. “‘I know allllll your lies! But I pretended not to notice, because I wanted you to be comfortable! Well, fat lot of good that did!” He slammed his hands on the table. The glasses chinked. Selina chewed on her calamari. “’Because now, NOW? You’re screwing up your own life!’” He yanked the wine glass and downed the contents.

The room was silent. Simon cleared his throat while Maggie shifted in her seat. Selina waved their waiter over and asked for another entrée to go.

Bruce closed his eyes, letting the wine fill his senses as a reprieve. “But yeah,” he said after a moment, “Other than that. Kids are great.”

Was the I-95 made out of fucking lava? He could hardly feel his feet, they felt like they had been freezer-burned like old strawberries.

“Switch!” shouted Stephanie. Tim gratefully sprang forward and dashed into the front seat. He would feel bad, would feel like he was slacking, but he knew his turn would come again. He and Steph had managed the time required to catch a breath before switching. Tim had expected to do it all by himself but Stephanie hadn’t let him. And he was glad of it.

Steph was just…wonderful. In good times and in bad, Steph supported him. Even when he was being an idiot.

He was…glad to be taking this next step with her. Taking the plunge. After all, if not now, then when?

The feelings bunched up in his chest, shooting down his veins, so he stuck his head out the window. “Steph!” he shouted. He sat up further, tucking a knee on the seat. “STEPH! Steph, I love you!”

“Thank you!” she shouted back. “And here I thought you were only with me for my ass!”

Tim shook his head. “No listen,” he instructed, leaning out as far as possible, “I love you! I really, really do!”

The car stopped.

“Really?!”

“Yes!”

The car began moving again.

“I love you too!”

Tim grinned. “I think this is going to work!” he shouted again. “What we’re doing, I think it’s going to work this time!”

“Us or the car?” she shouted.

“BOTH!” he hollered. “SWITCH!”

Tim hopped out and Stephanie ran forward. Instead of going around the front, Tim circled back and almost smashed into her. They both laughed, breathless and exhausted.

“September,” she reminded him, shaking her hair off her face, halfway in the car.

“September,” he repeated, already making his way to the back.

They smiled.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

A beat.

“Is this guy seriously honking?!”

“So when I said, ‘Let’s have lunch with my sister and her husband, tell ‘em about the engagement, really let them get to know you,’ you heard ‘have an absolute meltdown at the table; just fuck with them,’” Selina said, laughing. She swiped at her smeared lipstick and shut the sun visor mirror, leaning back and scrunching her hair in one hand. Bruce groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice muffled. “I really screwed that up, huh?”

“Nah.” She popped one of the complimentary mints in her mouth. “I told them you thought you were Christian Bale, today is your method acting day.”

He looked up. “You did not.”

“Nope.”

“Selina.”

She giggled, leaning over to massage his shoulders. “What’s the deal with you today? You’re so tense,” she complained, fingers digging at a muscle knot.

He sighed, but not in pleasure. Selina frowned. She pinched him.

“Ow,” he said dully, yet didn’t bother to push her away. She sat back anyway.

Selina huffed. “Really, what’s going on?” she asked, crossing her arms. Bruce didn’t respond. “Don’t make me pinch you again,” she threatened, holding her fingers like pincers.

Her fiancé turned on the car, grumbling, “What do you think is going on? I just told every staff member of Vivace about my problems, not to mention my new family members.”

“Tim? Still?”

He frowned at her incredulity. “Yes, Tim, still,” he said, taking a sharp turn into traffic. A horn blared behind them.

“Aw, baby.”

“He’s just,” Bruce sighed. “I can’t…”

“I know,” she murmured. “Have you tried talking to him?”

He frowned.

“Bruce?”

No response.

“Bruce.”

“He won’t answer any of my calls,” he admitted irritably. That fact stuck like a thorn. Worse than a thorn. More like a two-by-four. And he had been hit by them before, he knew what it felt like. “He told me to stay away from him.”

“Did you?”

He didn’t reply.

Tim didn’t want to be around him. Every instance of Tim’s new life, every personal decision, from age seventeen onward, had created distance. At this point, Bruce would believe that it was purposeful. But just what had he done so wrong? What had made Tim wake up one day and decide to schedule Bruce out from Monday to eternity?

Had Bruce failed? Worse yet, had Tim realized that and moved on?

Bruce wasn’t a proponent on fairness, but he did believe in justice. And justice was fair. And that meant that Bruce would get another chance, would get to see his son succeed and not be stuck choosing something he thought was right, something he had trained for. Something he thought was meant for, something that had made sense at a young age but wisdom and experience and death had tempered. Something that broke him, warped him, made him unable to recognize himself through the bruises. Something that was a lifelong mission and that sounded so grand at twenty-two, but at thirty-two it stings and at forty-two it aches. Something that made him less than what he was, what he should have been, if he only had just…taken a moment.

“Are you sure it’s the ring you’re worried about?”

Bruce blinked. “Pardon?”

“Is it marriage that concerns you?” Selina asked, peering at him with keen green eyes. She then smirked. “Should I be worried about that?”

“I just…don’t want him to do something he’ll regret,” he said, throat tight. Tim was still young. Too young. Tim was his, and Bruce had barely had him. To lose him to marriage, to adulthood? After everything? He didn’t think he could bear it.

“Well, look on the bright side,” Selina teased. “You haven’t heard from him. He could already be married. Then you have nothing more to worry about.”

Something caught his eye.

Tim’s location blinked on his phone. Bruce looked at it. He twisted the wheel.

“I’m going to confront him.”

“Okay, babe. I support you. Now, can you drop me off first before you—”

Bruce drove past her apartment.

“–okay.”

“Merge onto I-95,” instructed the GPS. Bruce flicked on his turn signal.

“You do realize I was just kidding about them eloping, right?”

Bruce didn’t reply.

Selina sighed, slipping on her sunglasses

“Here we go…”

#Batman #batman fanfiction #batfam #batfam fanfiction #Tim Drake #Bruce Wayne #birds all sing

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echoeternally · 5 years

Text

Forever Endures (3)

Gosh, this took me so much longer to get to than I planned. But I did want it released alongside my fanfic chapters, so it works out.

If you need a refresher, part one is here, and then, part two is here!

This is the third and final part of my three-shot series, which explores a little more behind the relationship for two characters in my Pokemon fanfic, Alakazam and Machamp.

For the story here, they’re finally in their final stage evolutions, and they’re also together...! That part happens in the fanfic proper, Melting Gelid Roses. However, that story has its primary focus on another particular couple and the events that they get involved in.

More or less...this is just very self-indulgent shipping shenanigans. Please feel free to join me, though, as it’s a pretty cute pairing!

It’s a bit lengthy, just so you’re aware. When you’re ready, just check below the cut for the story. Enjoy reading!

[Iceberg Palace]

Just in front of the crystal palace itself, a muscular, four-armed warrior stumbled aside as a salamander knight surged from the water, and spiraled at him with katars. He slammed a sword against the bridge they dueled on, and twisted around to swipe at his opponent, who flipped back into the water.

“Bye, Machamp…” The salamander murmured as he splashed below.

“Quagsire, you’re not beating me at this,” called Machamp. “Water is nothing that I can’t handle.”

“How about a sudden blizzard then?”

Jolting up, Machamp pivoted around as an elegant white spirit flew up into the sky. She winked to him, spun away, and forced her arms forward, as howling winds followed. Snow, hail, and ice rode the drafts as Machamp lifted his arms to shield whatever little he could.

A light flashed before him, however, just before the winds brushed him away. In another flash, he stood further down along the bridge, and blinked as he watched the gusts from a distance. His robed savior twirled a spoon in one hand, and brushed his mustache with another. Rolling her eyes, the ghost flew toward them.

“Alakazam, that’s just cheating,” she complained. “You can’t just…Teleport away from a storm.”

“Ah, and yet I can, and so I have,” teased Alakazam. He smirked up at Froslass, who lowered her eyes. “Didn’t take the wind from your sails now, did I?”

“Don’t ever use that line again.”

“Apologies.” He chuckled. “The opportunity presented itself, and I seized it.”

“Seize this.”

Lifting her arms with a dark purple energy coating thing, Froslass brought both together. Water came from below the bridge and wrapped around Machamp and Alakazam, forcing them together and locking them in between it. Dark aura flickered against the hand-shaped water, and Froslass grinned.

“Ha, no good when you can’t disappear, is it?” She giggled and drifted lower to the pair. “Now kiss, mwah!”

“You’ll only encourage them.”

Froslass spiraled around as Quagsire ambled over to her. She groaned and rolled her eyes.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Sneak up on people!” Froslass swayed in the air. “You’re so…I don’t know, quiet!”

“Just don’t draw in a lot of attention,” guessed Quagsire. “You might want to focus, though.”

“Huh?”

She blinked as Quagsire pointed past her, and Froslass spun around. She gawked as Machamp pushed the water from him and Alakazam, who grabbed onto him, and teleported them from the crushing tide.

“That’s not possible!” Froslass swept the water away, and glared at where the couple had been. “They…they can’t just…that was imbued with Ghost magic!”

“So was I.”

Froslass twisted back, as Machamp waved his hands, each cloaked in a deep purple glow that slowly faded. Alakazam lowered his arms, his spoons flickering with the same color.

“Psychics are weak to Ghost though!”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t borrow a hex or two,” taunted Alakazam with a smirk.

“Oh, that’s true. That was pretty clever.”

“Don’t compliment them, Quagsire.” Froslass glared at the pair. “They cheated.”

“Care to define magic again, Froslass?”

“Shut up, Alakazam!”

She flew over to him, but Machamp stepped in front of him, raising his swords and swiping at Froslass.

With a yelp, she floated back, evading his first strike, but fell as he slashed again.

Water burst from beside Machamp, as Quagsire tackled into him, knocking his swords back with his katar. He stumbled back as Quagsire dove back into the water, and slipped at the tip of the bridge.

As Machamp flailed his arms in the air, he blinked, staring behind him at the water. He looked back up, as Alakazam guided him back onto the bridge.

“Thanks!” Machamp grinned. “You’re the big hero for this match!”

“It’s mostly self-preservation, but thank you.”

“Nah, even if we’re together, helping me counts for selflessness.”

“Ugh.” Froslass buried her head into the bridge. “You’re both so…cute. Just stop already.”

“You’ll have to make us.”

“Gladly!”

Firing up from the ground, Froslass shot into the air, and drifted back. Quagsire poked his head from the water, and gazed up at her, as dark energy swirled around her.

“Prepare to fall before the mightiest mage alive!”

“Who’s that?”

“Me, you jerk!” Froslass scowled at Alakazam, who smirked at her. “Come on, at least try to make this a little serious.”

“To the contrary, I prefer not to.”

Water burst from beneath her, and Froslass glanced down, as Quagsire rocketed up at her. Smacking into her, both yelped and plummeted back down toward the bridge and water, their weapons falling from their hands.

“Do something, Quagsire!”

“Um…”

“Thinking doesn’t help, react! REACT!” She blinked. “Wait, I can fly.”

“Levitate.”

“Shut up and hold on!”

Spiraling, Froslass grabbed onto Quagsire, and the two spun around as they came lower. She lifted a wave of water below, as Quagsire twisted them around, enveloping the pair in the wave.

Together, the two launched a combined jet of water at Alakazam. He forced his spoons up, but Machamp jumped up, grabbing the pair as they flew forward.

Gritting his teeth, Machamp skidded back against the ice, as he locked against the bridge, sliding back into Alakazam, who lifted his arms to Machamp’s sides.

With a roar, Machamp flung Quagsire and Froslass back into the water, both crashing down with a splash. He panted and wiped his brow, as Alakazam drummed on his sides.

“Something wrong?”

“Not in the slightest.” Alakazam trailed his hands up Machamp’s sides. “Just enjoying the view and then some.”

“Hey, come on, we’re trying to fight here.” Machamp leaned back and winked at Alakazam. “You can enjoy me later.”

“Oho, a lovely offer.” Alakazam leaned up to Machamp. “But I’m always enjoying you as it is, so you’ll need a special offer with that—”

A heavy burst of water splashed out as Froslass shot up, holding Quagsire in her arms. She glared at the couple on the bridge, while Quagsire waved to them.

“Let’s pick that up later,” decided Machamp. “But, ah, since your arms are already around me, might as well make it worthwhile.”

“With pleasure.”

Lifting his spoons again, Alakazam scooped orbs of energy into Machamp’s hands. Froslass spun around and launched Quagsire at the pair first, and followed with a powerful wind burst.

Charged with energy, Machamp forced his palms forward, and blasted Quagsire back, knocking him into the water once more.

Holding Machamp, Alakazam teleported away from the wind surge, which crashed against the bridge. They reappeared once more, as Froslass seethed.

Pulling her arms back, she fired a barrage of icy stalactites down on the pair. Machamp pulled back his fists, but Alakazam pushed past him, and spun his spoons around.

Creating a wheel of fire, Alakazam telekinetically lifted it, burning away Froslass’s follow-up attack.

She gawked as Machamp lifted Alakazam up, and helped him raise the fiery wheel. He guided it up to Froslass, who lifted the water below to douse the flames.

“That’s just not fair,” complained Froslass. “And this is all totally impractical.”

“Entirely,” agreed Alakazam. “We’ll never have the concentration for this.” He shrugged. “But, it’s still fun.”

“Yeah, but I’m getting tired from it,” admitted Machamp. “Can we finish this up?”

“Of course, love.”

“Wait, what?!”

Alakazam teleported with Machamp again, and they reappeared above Froslass. Grabbing her, Machamp forced her down, as Alakazam teleported again.

Together, they appeared just above the bridge, as Froslass was slammed onto it. She groaned and flopped out.

Machamp spun Alakazam around, as he fired a colorful ray at the rising water, blasting Quagsire as he rose up. As he crashed into the bridge, Machamp dragged him back up, and Alakazam blasted him back once more.

Quagsire jumped up, coughed, and slammed back down to the ground.

“…Can we yield now, Froslass?”

“…Yeah, sounds good.” She waved her arm around. “We surrender.”

“By now, I should hope so,” teased Alakazam.

“Yay, we won!” Machamp scooped up Alakazam and hugged him. “That was great!”

“Of course.” Alakazam hugged Machamp back. “Together, we’re a powerful force.”

“And a cute team too,” murmured Quagsire, as he pushed himself back up. “You two know how to move as one.”

“We’re getting used to it again.” Machamp chuckled. “We could still use some practice.”

“You just had it,” joked Froslass. “And crushed it.”

“Ah, if you guys think so.” Machamp shrugged, and slipped away from Alakazam. “Ok, we better go put these weapons away.”

Machamp reached to grab his sword, but Froslass swept in and scooped it up. He blinked and watched her fly up before him, giggling with two more swords in her arms.

“Actually, Quagsire and I can clean it up ourselves,” insisted Froslass. “Punishment for losing or whatever.”

“Uh…are you sure?”

“Mm, it’s fine,” agreed Quagsire, carrying his katars and one of Machamp’s swords. “Bed should be after this anyway…”

“Yeah, I’m just going to, ah, read over some new hexes that I wanted to study,” tossed out Froslass. “And to bother someone else, like, um…Weavile! Yeah, her.”

“Oh, ok.” Machamp smiled. “Well, thanks you two!”

“No problem!” Froslass winked. “And you two take care! Have fun!”

She erupted into a fit of giggles as she floated away, and Quagsire smiled as he waddled after her. Machamp scratched his head with an upper arm, and glanced back at Alakazam, who tugged on his mustache.

“What’d she mean by that?”

“Who knows?” Alakazam shrugged, shifting his eyes around. “Froslass loves to joke around, almost always.”

“You know I can tell when you’re lying,” reminded Machamp. “Your heartbeat has a specific rhythm with it.”

“Stupid fighter chi sensing techniques,” grumbled Alakazam. He folded his arms while Machamp placed his lower hands on his hips. “Ok, fine! Maybe I mentioned to her that we were looking to do something after practice.” A slight blush crept onto his face. “Alone, together. Just us.”

“Ha, you don’t have to treat it like something special,” joked Machamp. “We spend a lot of free time together anyway.”

“Except today is special,” insisted Alakazam.

“It is?” Machamp thought for a moment, and then smacked his head. “Oh, bloody blazes, today’s not the day we met, is it?”

“The very one.”

“Ah, gods forgive me, I forgot again.” Machamp groaned and buried his face in his hands. “I swore up and down I was going to remember every time after I last forgot.”

“Funny enough, you remembered to the day when we weren’t on good terms,” teased Alakazam. “You had little gifts that you tried to give me, and—”

“Ok, ok, yeah, I did better last year for sure,” admitted Machamp. “Things just kind of slipped from my mind, I’m sorry.”

“Machamp, it’s all right,” soothed Alakazam. “I’m just teasing you.”

“Yeah, but today’s really important!” He grinned to the mage. “I don’t know where I’d be without you in my life!”

“Who knows?” Alakazam sighed. “I’d probably be dead.”

“Don’t talk like that!” Machamp picked Alakazam’s hands up into his lower pair. “I don’t care if that’s what was probable, you hear?”

“Sorry.” Slipping his hands from Machamp, Alakazam reached up and caressed his lover’s face. “I just…I’m really grateful that we met, because you gave me so much.”

“And you’ve done everything you can to give it right back, so, that’s fine.” Machamp took one of Alakazam’s hands and kissed it. “But we’re here now, so come on, what should we do for the rest of today?”

“To be honest, I didn’t quite have anything special in mind.” Alakazam shrugged. “All I need is to spend it with you, so…we can do anything.”

“Well, I could use some relaxation from that practice,” decided Machamp. “So, how about we take a dip in the onsen?”

“Hot springs?” Alakazam chuckled. “We’re going to melt in there some day.” He rested against Machamp, tapping his chest. “But I’d like that too, so, yes, let’s.”

“Great! Let’s go get changed, then.”

“Right away.”

Wrapping himself around Machamp, Alakazam teleported the two away from the bridge. They reappeared outside of the bedchamber halls, as Alakazam brushed his head and deeply exhaled.

“Don’t keep teleporting like that,” scolded Machamp. “You’ll kill yourself like that.”

“Oh, it’s fine.” Alakazam wiped his head again. “I haven’t…used it to the…limit yet.”

“Well, quit pushing yourself.” Machamp rubbed Alakazam’s back. “We should have a fun evening, so let’s take it slow.”

“All right, as you wish.” Alakazam heaved. “Ah…maybe I did overdo it…”

“Do you want to rest for a while?”

“We can rest…together, outside,” insisted Alakazam. “Go on, go change.”

“Ok.”

Stroking Alakazam’s cheek and mustache, Machamp smiled to him, and turned away to his room. Alakazam chuckled, touching his cheek, before retreating into his room to do the same. He closed the door behind himself and steadied his breathing.

“Anyone would think that I’m the only one between us to worry so much,” softly joked Alakazam. “Gods, I love him.”

Undoing the ties for his robes, Alakazam let them fall from his body, and tossed them onto his bed. He stripped from his underclothes next, placing them out as well, and then he opened his wardrobe.

“Hm…which color would he want me to wear…?”

Sorting through his swimwear, Alakazam plucked out a black pair. He smirked and put them on. Glancing at his mirror and posing a bit, Alakazam chuckled before grabbing a towel and turning away.

As he ambled off to leave his room, Alakazam glanced back once more, looking inside of it. He curled his hand over the doorknob, and tapped his foot.

“Maybe we should consider choosing one room and sharing,” he quietly pondered. “I wonder which he’d prefer…” Alakazam shook his head. “It’s still early on, and we’ll have time to decide later.”

He closed his door and strolled down the hall. Machamp opened his door, spotted Alakazam, and grinned. Waiting in the doorway until Alakazam came close, he rested his upper arms on the doorframe while flexing a bit with his lower arms. Alakazam laughed and folded his arms as he stood before his partner.

“Ready to go, or are you just going to goof around the whole time?”

“Aw, come on.” Machamp slid one of his hands down the door, suggestively lowering his eyes. “Doesn’t any of this entice you?”

“All of it does every day, so, yes.” Alakazam laughed as Machamp deflated. Clearing his throat, Alakazam tapped his chin, and matched Machamp’s tone, “But, I do enjoy you wearing less and propping yourself up for me.”

“Just lead with that next time.” Machamp stuck his tongue out at Alakazam, whose eyes wandered down at his white swimsuit. “Aha, there we go! My eyes are up here, don’t you know?”

“Yes, but that looks a bit tight on you.”

“That’s the point.”

“Ah.”

“For someone so smart, you tend to miss a lot of cues,” teased Machamp. He slid from his doorway and pulled the door shut. “Maybe I ought to be more obvious about them.” He smirked as his arms slid around Alakazam’s shoulders, trailing down near his waist as he passed by. “Unless you like it when we play it cool.”

“Well, I think I’m fairly flexible.” Alakazam tugged on his mustache as Machamp beamed to him. “Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“We’re in the hall.”

“Bed chambers.”

“Machamp.”

“Ok, ok.” He shrugged and strode away from Alakazam. “Doesn’t have to be a bed.”

“Oh, that does it.” Alakazam charged after Machamp. “Come here!”

“Just remember that you started this!” Machamp jogged away from his boyfriend. “If anything, you brought this side out of me, so you can only blame yourself!”

“Fine, but you could’ve ended it at any time!”

“Now what fun would that be?”

They rushed through the hallways, racing down a flight of stairs and whipping around corners, passing the palace portraits and sculptures.

Alakazam gained quickly upon Machamp.

“You’re not fast enough to outrun me!” He reached out to Machamp.

“No, but I am stronger!”

Spinning around, Machamp scooped up Alakazam and carried him onward, cradling him in his arms.

“Hey!”

“Hi!”

“Put me down, Machamp!”

“Aw, don’t you like it up here by me?”

“Come off it,” grumbled Alakazam. “I’m not that much shorter than you.”

“Maybe not, but you’re small and light enough to fit in my arms,” pointed out Machamp. “So, you’re easily whisked away…!”

“Don’t sound so happy about it.”

“But I love carrying you around.” Machamp lowered his eyes and smirked. “Besides, you’ve got the advantage over me, and you could get away any time you want.” His beam broadened as Alakazam blushed and looked away. “Well…?”

“You don’t need to be so smug about it.”

“Sounds like someone’s enjoying himself!”

“A bit.” Alakazam returned his attention to Machamp, who cocked an eyebrow. “…Ok, a lot.” His lips bubbled into a smile. “I like being spoiled, I admit it. Satisfied?”

“Not yet, but that makes a good start.” Machamp leaned close to Alakazam. “You still have to spoil me some.”

“Naturally.”

“Oho—”

“Don’t push it.”

Grinning still, Machamp slid open the door to the towel room. Alakazam wiggled a bit in his arms, but Machamp kept him hoisted up, simply gathering a few towels for them both, and setting them aside for later.

“Are you going to let me down yet?”

“Hey, I never want to do that again!”

“…Was that meant to be a joke—?”

“Yes.” Machamp sticks his tongue out. “You need to keep up with me.”

“Well, you’re keeping me up, so it works out.”

Machamp laughed while Alakazam smirked and leaned back into his arms. Carrying him outside of the room, Machamp and Alakazam gazed upon the hot springs.

Stepping by the edge of the water, Machamp glanced over, with a playful smirk crawling onto his face. Alakazam shifted his attention between his lover and the water, and then frowned.

“No, no, don’t do it.”

“What?”

“Don’t drop me in.” Alakazam slouched. “Please.”

“Aw, I’d never.” Machamp paused a moment and his smirk lifted. “Well, maybe with a normal pond or lake.” He chuckled. “But here, no, and especially because you asked nicely.”

“Just for that?”

“Manners matter.”

Setting Alakazam down, Machamp dipped his feet in, letting them into the water. He grinned as his shoulders fell, and with a happy sigh, pushed himself into the spring. His delighted moans got Alakazam to jump and quickly slide into the water right after him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Alakazam inhaled and exhaled, sinking into the spring. “Just…wanted to join in…”

“Uh-huh.” Machamp leaned closer to Alakazam and lowered his eyes. “So if I reach down a bit over here—”

“Do it and I’m dunking you.”

“Come on, it’s just us out here,” teased Machamp. “You can lighten up with me.”

“We’re not lightening up by lightening the single articles of clothing that we’re wearing, Machamp.” Alakazam tilted his head back. “Remember what happened last time?”

“Oh, come on, Carracosta didn’t mind.”

“And before that?”

“Mienshao should’ve knocked.”

“And before that?”

“Emperor Empoleon usually finds the time to go out on his own! How were we supposed to know?”

“Gods…” Alakazam shook his head, and propped himself against Machamp’s arms. “At least feel a little guilty.”

“Over bonding with you?” Machamp snorted. “Never.”

“Ha, that’s…” Alakazam shrugged. “Ok, I’ll let it slide.”

“Great!” Machamp reached down, but Alakazam tugged his hand back up.

“Not that.”

“Spoil sport…”

“Well, think of it this way,” suggested Alakazam. “If you want just that, you could always go find that Fire fellow from before.”

“Oh no.”

“Was he a chicken? It’s been a while, I can’t remember.” Alakazam smirked. “But in that case, you could have a real—”

“Ok, ok, you made your point!” Machamp dipped lower into the water, with only his head remaining above it. “I don’t want to go over that.”

“Sorry.” Alakazam scooted closer into him, sinking in the water beside him. “I was just teasing; trying to make light out of something that I blew so far out of proportion.”

“Let’s just leave it as something that we worked past, huh?” Machamp pecked Alakazam’s cheek. “It’s an important day, so let’s get back to that.”

“Night by now,” corrected Alakazam as he pointed to the sky. “But you’re right.”

“Ooh, you know what?” Machamp bobbed back out. “How about we talk about some things that we want to do with life down the road? We’ve spent so many years together, so let’s talk about future stuff!”

“Like what?”

“I didn’t think it out that far.”

“Machamp…”

“Give me a second!” Machamp drummed at the edge of the spring, while Alakazam rose up beside him, leaning against the ledge as well. “Um…how about…what we want next most in our lives? Or what we could do to make it more gratifying?”

“…Is this going back to—?”

“No!” Machamp groaned. “Look, I’m trying to figure out what to give you!” He sighed and flicked at the ground. “I didn’t get anything for today, but I’d like to work on what else you want from me.”

“Just you, that’s fine.”

“Thank you, but I mean like what else you want from life with me!”

“Mm…I don’t know.” Alakazam traced a circle around on the ground before him. “Being with you makes everything feel complete.”

“Seriously?”

“Of course.”

“How’s your life fulfilled by just being with me?” Machamp raised an eyebrow. “I don’t define you.”

“Perhaps not entirely. And I do suppose that we could have lived our lives entirely separate, never known one another, and been none the wiser, but still content.” Alakazam shrugged and smiled. “I suppose that, by having you with me for so long, my life has become that much more enriched.” He rested against Machamp and stroked his face. “With you, I feel like I’ve become a better version of myself than I could ever achieve on my own. And having you gives me something that adds to my purpose, my being, my core. This eclipses any thought of a life without you, and that somehow makes the notion all the more frightening, because you’ve given me so much that completes me.”

Machamp gawked at Alakazam, as the latter’s hands slid from his face. He scooted back and rested in the water.

“Maybe that could be overstating it, but that’s what I feel.” Alakazam scratched the side of his head. “I’m not sure if you entirely under—”

Alakazam had two hands scoop his face up, as two more pulled him close. Machamp pressed their lips together, and tightly held his lover against him, softly caressing him as he deepened their kiss. Soon, Alakazam brought one hand back to Machamp’s face, as the other wrapped behind his neck, and the two sank into each other, still kissing. They broke apart to breathe a bit, but only came together again, and again, until they pulled away once more, just barely, panting for more air.

“So,” managed Alakazam, “that was a…suitable explanation, then.”

“Did you think all of that through, or was it just roll off the top of your head?” Machamp rubbed Alakazam’s cheek. “Where do you even come up with such beautiful words for me?”

“I read a lot.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What?” Alakazam poked at Machamp. “You think I don’t read enough trashy romance novellas?”

“They’re not trashy, they’re cute.” Machamp grinned. “You make the cutest noises when you’re really into reading one.”

“No, don’t talk about my second-hand excitement!”

“But it’s adorable!”

“Ugh, stop…!” Alakazam sank down into the water. “I’m a complete fool.”

“If you’re a fool, I don’t want to know what that makes me,” joked Machamp. “You’re too smart for me.”

“Hey, hey, no putting yourself down again.” Alakazam popped back up and rested against Machamp’s chest. “Come on. You’re plenty smart enough to keep up with me.”

“Most days.”

“Every day.” Alakazam drummed along Machamp’s shoulders. “That’s like me telling you that I’m not strong enough for you.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely not true.” Machamp lowered his eyes and smirked. “We proved that a few different ways.” He raised an eyebrow as Alakazam lifted his hand and pinched at his cheek. “Ouch! Hey, quit it!” Machamp groaned as Alakazam dropped his hand away. “Ok, I deserved that.”

“Yep.” Alakazam folded his arms. “Can’t we bring up something cute about you?”

“Aw, you think I’m cute?”

“We’re dating, so, yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t give me that.” Alakazam nudged Machamp. “I’ve only been hopelessly attracted to you since we met, more or less.”

“We were kids.”

“So?”

“You didn’t know that was a crush,” teased Machamp. “Little you just wanted a good friend, and I caved to give you that.”

“What? ‘Caved?’ You wanted to be my friend!”

“Ha, yeah, I did.” Machamp winked to Alakazam. “Maybe we’ve both been into each other the whole time after all.”

“Oh, now you agree with me.”

“Yeah!”

“Ugh.”

“It’s worth considering,” conceded Machamp. “After we left that cave, we stuck together, and we were always fascinated by each other.” He chuckled. “And you thought I was strong back then!”

“How was I supposed to know you’d bulk out even more?” Alakazam sank back. “Some of us have radically different evolutions.”

“Are you going to whine about your lost tail again?”

“No!” Alakazam flicked at the water. “…Maybe…”

“And you’re making fun of me not getting over things,” joked Machamp. “Look, the tail was cute, but I’m perfectly fine around you without it.”

“…Are you being sweet or—”

“Just go with sweet, please.”

“Fine.”

“Yay!” Machamp smooched Alakazam on the lips and brushed his mustache. “Besides, this getting longer was a nice trade-off.”

“How?”

“It’s fun to play with.” Machamp beamed. “Especially with my lips.”

“What, my tail wasn’t?” Alakazam smirked as Machamp gawked at him. “That’s your one for the night.”

“Bu…but that’s not fair!” Machamp scooped Alakazam closer into him. “I was too dumb to do anything with you before!”

“Not dumb,” insisted Alakazam. “Though…I might give you a tad oblivious.”

“Knighthood made me that way.”

“It was preparation for it.”

“Whatever, I was distracted.” Machamp sighed. “I should’ve gone past our first kiss and told you everything that same night at the manor.”

“Don’t, it’s fine.” Alakazam kissed at Machamp’s neck. “We’re together again, and everything worked out, didn’t it?”

“After taking too long, yeah.” Another kiss and Machamp contentedly exhaled. “Ooh, how long can you do that for?”

“Want to find out?”

“Mm…maybe later,” suggested Machamp. He flexed his upper arms. “Maybe you could give me a massage too.”

“Sure.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes.” Alakazam winked. “I like getting my hands all over you.”

“Wh…what—?”

“That’s the second, so be grateful.”

“Can’t you just be happy spoiling me some too?”

“Please.” Alakazam leaned closer to Machamp. “We both know that I’m going to—”

Machamp leaned in and kissed Alakazam, who blinked. They parted and he raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

“What was that for?”

“Because I knew where that was going.”

“Ah, right.” Alakazam rested against Machamp, lowering his eyes as they smiled to one another. “And here I thought you just liked the feel of my lips.”

“Oh, that too, definitely.” Machamp poked at Alakazam’s nose. “Plus that. And your mustache.”

“Ha.”

“They all feel nice and soft.” Machamp flicked at the spring. “Better than me.”

“Firm and tight muscles, big lips, and four arms.” Alakazam grinned. “Personally, I think I’m getting the better deal out of this.”

“No way.”

“Absolutely.” Alakazam sighed. “You do attract a crowd.”

“Don’t want them, though.” He wrapped his lower arms around Alakazam’s waist. “All I want is you.”

“Mmm…definitely sweet.”

“You know, you never did tell me what else you wanted in life.” Machamp gazed down to Alakazam. “Besides being with me, what else do you want to do? We’ve still got some years ahead of us, right?”

“…I really don’t know.” Alakazam shrugged. “We spoke of those legends and mysteries that we wanted to explore when we were young. So…I suppose we can look into them later on.”

“Nothing personal for you, though?” Machamp frowned. “I became a knight, and you a mage, but that was to stay with me. So…what do you want?”

“We’ve still got time, right?” Alakazam softly smiled. “I can figure it out. You can help me. We’re usually a good team like that.”

“Well, of course, but—”

“Don’t worry about it for now.” Alakazam cuddled closer into Machamp. “As long as you stay with me, I can think of something.”

“That makes it sound like it’s distracting when I’m not with you,” teased Machamp, smiling a bit.

“Since my mind wanders into wondering about you, yes, it’s completely distracting,” joked Alakazam. “You need to stay around me, or I’m doomed.”

“Oh, now you’re being dramatic!”

“Not entirely,” quietly admitted Alakazam. “…I…don’t like being without you. Ever.”

“You never will be.” Machamp kissed his head. “I’m going wherever you want whenever you’re ready.”

“Honestly, there’s no need—”

“If I’m your boyfriend, there is absolutely a need,” insisted Machamp. “Especially if there’s more to come from that!”

“More…?” Alakazam blushed and pulled back from Machamp. “Is that a proposal already? I thought we were waiting.”

“Wait, what?!” Machamp’s face burned a deep red, and he scooted back against the spring’s edge. “Ha-hold on a second! I-I wasn’t…I just meant more time together—”

“Calm down,” soothed Alakazam. “I’m just teasing.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah! I knew that.” Machamp glanced away as Alakazam chuckled. He surveyed around the spring, but went right back to Alakazam. “But, um. We will get married some day, right?”

“Huh?” Alakazam’s blush deepened. “Well, we, uh, we’re trying to see if we want that, you know.”

“Yeah.” Machamp smiled and lowered his shoulders. “But…I don’t have anyone else that I’d rather.” He sighed as Alakazam gazed up to him. “Not that we need to, you know, get married or make a big deal of it. I just—”

“Like the idea?”

“Yeah…among some, um. Other things.”

“As do I.” Alakazam slowly smiled back. “It’s…probably inevitable, but we’ll see as we go along, of course.”

“Yep, you’re right.”

“…Would this be a bad time to bring up dreaming of it?”

“Not at all, because I’ve done the same.” Machamp smirked. “Especially lately.”

“Oh…?” Alakazam rubbed his face. “Tell me more.”

“Don’t press me like that,” teased Machamp. “I have to keep some surprises.”

“Mm…that’s fair.”

“But you know what’s going to be part of the theme?”

“What?”

“Some big banners that say, ‘together forever, forever together.’” Machamp beamed as Alakazam’s eyes lit up.

“Absolutely, please! Let’s get those!” Alakazam wrapped his arms around Machamp’s neck. “Together forever. You promise?”

“Definitely.” Machamp kissed Alakazam, pressing their lips tightly together, but dropping apart, a bit overheated. “And this time I’ll mean it and stick with it.”

Alakazam laughed, and cuddled closer into Machamp, who pulled him as close in as he could. They chattered a bit longer, discussing the future that awaited them.

Together was something they planned to be, forever.

...

Goodness, I miss my line breaks. Now this story is going to seem so different with its footnotes. Bleh, oh well.

Yay and hooray, Machamp and Alakazam have cute plans for themselves as a couple! They’re very adorable together, and things feel so nice being that way.

Unlike the previous two entries, this one simply explores the relationship between the couple, and doesn’t really delve into past events, as we’re all caught up by this stage of their dating period. It’s simply to share their time together, along with their hopes and dreams of the future.

It’s also something of a swan song, I suppose.

Anyway, not much more to be added on, since that’s the wrap up. If you’ve enjoyed this couple, then you’ve joined me on this ship, and I’m glad that we can sail for this lovely couple!

Oh, and if you’re interested and didn’t check the links above, and/or you’re not quite versed on these stories, here are some related picks:

Forever Endures (1) - The first of this mini-series, showing the origin of Alakazam and Machamp when they were Abra and Machop!

Forever Endures (2) - The second of this mini-series, which closes in on Alakazam and Machamp as Kadabra and Machoke, as they plan for a future that might lead them somewhere different.

Inferiority Complex - A separate one-shot that involves both Machamp and Alakazam, though it goes over some insercurities they have instead!

Melting Gelid Roses - This is the main source of my Pokemon fanfic shenanigans, and heavily features Alakazam and Machamp midway into the story, as they slowly become a couple.

That’ll do it for this one. As always, thank you so much for reading! I hope you’ve enjoyed it all.

#muscularmustacheshipping #alakazam #machamp #pokemon #pokemon fanfics #three-shot #fanfic #forever endures #based on #melting gelid roses #echo's fanfics #medieval setting #hot springs #onsen #froslass #quagsire #training #finale

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