Nitori Shuuichi (二鳥 修一) likesdresses wrote in memebells
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43. i don't need a parachute baby if i've got you
the romantic gesture meme

Whether you've got a single romantic bone in your body or not, you suddenly feel compelled to confess your love to someone in a gesture that'll sweep them off their feet and into your arms. Maybe you already have an established relationship and want to do something memorable for your sweetheart, or perhaps you don't even know them and it's love at first sight!

    how it all goes down
    ► Post with your character and series, prefs if applicable.
    RNG it up (1-7 possibilities) and look to the list below for the situations.
    ► Tag other people's posts with the number you rolled or another situation.
    ► Grab a tissue box, it's about to get wibbly.

    the prompts
    ❤ o1: love song; either you've spilled your heart out on music sheets and guitar strings or you're holding a boombox over your head blasting the song that signifies your undying love.

    ❤ o2: wild goose chase; you've carefully planted clues and arrows leading to a very special surprise that's sure to make their knees weak.

    ❤ o3: key to my heart; perhaps you've placed it into a little black box or tied it to the end of a balloon, but it's time you gave them that spare key to your front door and make a house into a home.

    ❤ o4: to the end of the world; they're planning on leaving, plane ticket or taxi fare in hand, but you'll chase them across the whole city if it means keeping them here with you where they belong.

    ❤ o5: you've got mail; when they open their mailbox they might find a flood of orange tic-tacs or those stuffed animals you get from crane games (anything you know will make them smile).

    ❤ o6: message for you; it could be written in the sky or with m&m's as long as it lets them know what's on your mind.

    ❤ o7: anything else; have I missed something or want to try out your own idea? anything goes!

    ► Have fun!

Bruce Wayne | Nolanverse

I couldn't wait. ;)

[[ 7, believe it or not.]]

Bruce had been having the ballroom cleaned and re-varnished for a few days now, drapes replaced with airy white gauzy fabric, the piano tuned perfectly, and a new speaker system installed for music they might want to put on. He knew Harvey had no interest in dancing, so this was something for Tyler and Bruce alone to enjoy.

New lighting fixtures to simulate candles were placed onto the walls, low lighting filtrating the the entirety of the ballroom, causing the amber wood of the polished floor to dancing with yellow twinkling of lights. Upstairs, on Tyler's portion of the closet, he would find a new pair of dancing shoes, black and glossy, almost the appearance of Chuck's eyes. These shoes would match the deep black suit hanging just above it, crisp clean white shirt attached.

Bruce waited in the ballroom, filtering through music on the stereo system, deciding on something other than classical for now, sifting through jazz albums and the likes of Frank Sintara, he wasn't sure yet what Tyler liked besides classical.

"Go back to the one with Frank," a low, slightly rough voice echoed from the doorway where Tyler stood in the doorway, the edge of his lips quirked up in an impressed smirk at all the trouble his husband had gone to ... apparently for him, nonetheless.

"Frank's always a good choice." It was hard to imagine seven years ago that this moment was possible, the hidden side of Gotham's least corruptible man and the human face of the dark knight himself ... but seven long years later, here they were.

"Hm, 'Strangers in the Night' is oddly fitting, isn't it?" he quipped, shuffling back to the song, giving it a little delay time so he could get over to his husband first.

Bruce was also n a newly bought Armani suit, dark sleet grey, green tie, crisp white shirt and new shoes, so they didn't scuff the floor too soon. He sauntered over to Tyler, hand out and an ever loving, present smile on his face.

Tyler raised an eyebrow, his slight, usually cruel smile growing a little as he approached Bruce, and looked him over approvingly, proudly. His husband in a well-made suit was nothing new, but Bruce looked like he'd gone to some effort tonight, even for him.

"Look at you," the towering blond murmured as he got closer, dark blue eyes softening from their usual skeptical set as Bruce came within reach. Tyler stroked hot fingers down the green silk of his tie, noting what the color did to Bruce's hazel eyes.

"Has anyone ever told you that you clean up well?" he asked. The blond wrapped a well-built arm around Bruce's waist and took his hand with the other side, the left side. His side.

He definitely had. Wanting tonight to be special and perfect for Tyler. He knew the man never got to have much, whatever it was that Harvey didn't get, or sharing. But tonight wasn't going to be about Harvey, it would be about Tyler. Harvey got Bruce most days when there was time, and now that Bruce had sometime, he wanted to be sure that the darker half knew he was well loved as well.

Their hands met seamlessly, bodies in close together and the music finally started. Bruce rested his hand on Tyler's shoulder, letting him lead; it was his night after all, Bruce would oblige.

"So I'm told," he answered finally, hazel eyes completely light tonight, showing his good mood, a rare feat.

It was all in the eyes. When Bruce was Bruce his eyes were full of warm color, blended fragments of olive, amber and brown, when he was his darker half, the stained glass glow of his eyes went dark, nearly as black as the armor he wore.

The two men were really four men, light and dark in each, and they split and fit together over and over again, balancing one another out, Harvey for Bruce's black days and Bruce to manage Tyler's bloodiest-minded moods.

Tyler's blue-black eyes didn't lighten, but they shone when Bruce let him pull him into a slow, graceful sway. He held Bruce to his over-heated chest, protectively, possessively. Bruce was worth hanging onto, at any cost.

"Polished the place up just for us?"

The slow sway was nice, no need to really dance, there was no use for it when they really just wanted to be held by one another. And this... this little niche of theirs was just that, a piece of life that they got to share that neither Chuck or Harvey enjoyed. So the two men, opposite in someways, and the same in other, held onto each other for the moments shared like this.

Bruce loved them; finally a place to shell out his love dancing and music, things Harvey had no interest in at all, and he would never make that husband try to love it with him. Bruce had Tyler for that, now.

He leaned his forehead against Tyler's, a ghost of smile on his otherwise usually stony features. "I did. It's something that's just ours."

"We'll be well practiced for the next fundraiser I take my husband to," Tyler said as he turned them both slowly, smoothly, with the sort of sly grace that Harvey just didn't have.

He loved the feeling of having Bruce on his arm, and knowing that Bruce allowed it was even better. Tyler was under no illusion that Bruce was in any way 'the woman' between the two of them, his husband could lay him flat in the space of a breath if the notion appealed to him. Tyler, however, escorted Bruce around the room in his arms with a certain adoring possessiveness that Bruce seemed happy to accept as the way Tyler loved him.

The elegantly dressed blond splayed his hand over Bruce's back and turned them again, using the movement to hold him closer, smiling a little himself.

"We have to show those socialities how it's done, after all."

"Everyone will be jealous," he mused, sliding this noses together as their faces stayed apart, but close. Bruce allowed the blond some control, to protect him the way he hadn't been able to seven years ago, when things went downhill, when he thought Harvey was dead and months into grieving for the loss of two friends, when he was broken.

He'd let Tyler feel as though he had some right to protect Bruce now, even if the brunette was more than capable of doing so. Tyler needed to be needed, and sometimes Bruce was capable of complying, if it meant keeping the blond happy.

The feeling that Bruce needed him for once, instead of just tolerating him was what started their new closeness. It was a simple need, someone to be with him for a few hours of something Bruce hated, a date he could enjoy, and Tyler stepped in, perfectly, letting his husband see that he was more than snarled words and flying fists at the flip of a coin.

Much more.

"They should be," he agreed, relishing the tension between their close mouths almost more than an actual kiss. "We're young," he turned them both again, smiling a little at Bruce, actual humor sparkling in his dark eyes, "well, young enough, powerful, gorgeous and-" he stepped in closer to his husband, a subtle movement that made his thigh brush between Bruce's, "in love. Who wouldn't be jealous of us?"

Eyes lidded, Bruce gazes at his husband, no matter what side it was he was dealing with, he loved the man more and more each day. How could he not? Everything wrapped up into a tight little package, the man he honored and looked up to for years, even when he thought they were dead. Just perfect. Finally someone he knew inside and out, someone he could trust, someone who never would have to lie to him, or vice versa.

"Correction," he started, lightly, soft, "You're young. The rest is true enough, however." He was teasing, but even still their closeness, the barely there touching beside their hands and arms wrapped up into a slow dance, was causing his body to react at the gentlest of touches.

"You have four years on me, handsome" Tyler reminded him, "you're hardly robbing the cradle." He laced their fingers together and rubbed the pad of his thumb over the sensitive underside of Bruce's wrist, one of the few places on his body that had never been scarred and toughened by repeated hits.

The sight of Bruce's eyes half-closed with satisfaction, sultry and happy made him smile. "I didn't know you liked Sinatra."

The caress was just adding on to the surge of emotion and electricity rolling through under his skin, causing him to press in closer, if possible. The gentle shifting of their legs, the rock of his hips of they swayed, brushing, made Bruce lean in and pressed their mouths together. Everyday he was more and more in love with the man in front of him.

"My mother loved Sinatra."

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