Chapter Text
Bruce was staring forward, directly at Jerome, up on stage, as he stared at him.
Something didn't feel right about the plan that Jim Gordon and Lucius came up with.
He tore his eyes away from Jerome, looking back first at Jim, then to Jeremiah. He looked so frightened. Bruce didn't blame him, but still he couldn't let the words that Jeremiah had said inside his bunker go. 'I will not be lead like a lamb to slaughter'.
Bruce had manipulated him, and he felt guilty. Extremely guilty.
Jeremiah hadn't yet stepped forward, and something in Bruce told him that despite bringing him all the way here, he couldn't let Jeremiah be lead to slaughter.
He was one to manipulate, it's what came with being a good business man, but he manipulated for the greater good, not his own selfish desires.
He knew of his boyish charm, his unexpected disarming intellect, these qualities helped him in dire situations, and this was a dire situation.
He turned back to look into Jerome's eyes, even from a distance Bruce could tell he was getting impatient. He'd have to act now.
He turned quickly grabbing Jim Gordon's megaphone, he hadn't yet used it, he didn't need to, his voice carried.
He ignored the confused looks on Jim and the police officers faces, and avoided Jeremiah's face all together.
He pushed away the concerned. "What are you doing Bruce?"
Bruce was about to do something reckless, in hopes of not having to watch Jeremiah walk willingly into the arms of death.
Bruce had been there before, twice now, he just didn't flirt with death beforehand.
He stepped into the aisle between the two crowds of people, walking forward just enough to see Jerome's expression.
He seemed curious, impatience gone for now, and Bruce turned on the megaphone raising it his mouth.
"I've got an offer for you."
_______
Oh, Brucie had an offer for him did he?Jerome grinned broadly, staring into those dark eyes.
He moved to the microphone.
"Always the savior aren't ya Brucie?... I'll bite. What's this offer of yours, pretty boy?"
It could have been a trick of his eyes, but he swore Bruce's cheeks turned a bit red at that, they were at too far a distance to judge properly, and he didn't at all like it.
"Let your hostages go--Jerome rolled his eyes-- and allow Jeremiah to leave, and you can take me, J."
That got his attention, made him freeze for a whole three seconds, eyes wide, flicking to Jimbo, who seemed as shocked as he was.
And that meant this was a last minute decision, it wasn't preplanned, this was all Bruce's quick thinking, as reckless as it was.
Tsk tsk, flirting with a madman is dangerous, Brucie.~
"As tempting as getting you all to myself is, darlin', letting my brother go now would put quite the damper on my plans."
Jerome could see Bruce quirk his eyebrow, the megaphone just low enough that he could see a smirk playing on those lips.
It made Jerome's blood rush in a way that he was very familiar with.
He stared at that smirk, he'd never seen Bruce even smile, gloomy boy that he was, seeing him smirk, did things to him that Jerome didn't even know were possible for him anymore.
"You didn't listen, Rome."
Oh, he listened and heard Bruce loud and clear, and he didn't think Bruce was talking about what his mind had conjured up.
Also, another nickname. Trying to even the score?
"I don't mean take me in their place."
Was that a lilt in his tone?
It was hard to tell through the distortion from the megaphone, but Jerome would say that it was a lilt if Bruce's smirk was anything to go by and Bruce was suddenly adding a whole other prospect to their already dangerous game.
The crowd was relatively silent, except for the not exactly shushed whispers.Bruce had shocked the entire audience.
Impressive.
"Come on, Jerome. You aren't my one and only favorite magician for nothing. Make me disappear."
Definitely a lilt.
Damn, Brucie. Who knew you'd be willing to use these methods to save people, including my traitorous brother of all people.
Jerome would be lying if he didn't at least mentally admit that it was doing it for him. And Bruce asking to be kidnapped? It was like a twisted wet dream, especially turning his nickname for Bruce back around onto Jerome.
Jerome wanted to indulge himself, to take Bruce up on his offer, but that would mean Jeremiah may go deeper into his little foxhole, disappearing from him again.
A fifteen year old revenge plan, or the object of his obsession and twisted affection willingly disappearing with him?
"Gonna need a bit more convincing Brucie." He chuckled darkly into the mic, loving the shudder that ran through the crowd.
It was probably like being a witness to the start of a snuff film, and that thought set Jerome's blood on fire.
Bruce walked towards the stage, locking eyes with him, the closer he got the more Jerome could see. Bruce was flushed, couldn't quite conceal the emotions that his words brought about, maybe it was semi real.The boy not quite being able to flirt with him without a bit of actual emotion mixed in.
Jerome watched him walk up, stopping at the edge of the stage, looking up at him, the megaphone lowered, now being able to speak and be heard without it.
When Bruce looked directly up at him his eyes drifted half closed, looking at Jerome through his lashes, he heard the megaphone drop to the ground, Bruce's hands coming up to rest on the stage.
The sight of him almost made Jerome forget about the dead man's switch in his hand.He wanted to pull him up on stage, tarnish his reputation further in front of everyone, including his brother.
But, alas, having a few accidental explosions from a lust filled desire--Jerome chuckled as the scenario sounded a lot like accidentally cumming, except a lot more fatal--was not ideal.
He grinned down at Bruce. "Ya know, I'd almost say you wanted me to take ya for other reasons, darlin'."
He held the mic just close enough for it to pick up his words.
"Maybe I do."
Jerome breathed in deeply, groaning softly.
"Then come up here and convince me, Bruce Wayne."
______
Bruce had to make this believable, he knew that his methods of negotiating with a literal terrorist would put his reputation in absolute disarray, but he needed to save the three people left on the stage, and Jeremiah, and anyone that might be caught up in the crossfire.
If he had to tear up his reputation to do so, he would.
Bruce held his hand up to Jerome, silently asking for him to pull him up on stage. He could walk up himself, but the act of Jerome pulling him up himself was seemingly more intimate in his eyes, telling the man that he would willingly go with him.
And if Lucius' device had worked, Bruce was within range to disarm the dead man's switch, so if Jerome let go of it, the hostages would still okay.
Bruce trusted Lucius.
He just didn't think the plan would work in it's entirety.
Bruce wasn't much shorter than Jerome anymore, he could met his eyes on the same level as Jerome.
What he planned to do to convince Jerome of his sincerity would most like make everyone in Gotham think differently of him, amongst other things.
Bruce stared into Jerome's eyes, reaching his hand forward, wrapping around Jerome's gloved one that held the dead man's switch, pressing his index finger over Jerome's thumb, taking in a breath, parting and wetting his lips.
Bruce saw the dangerous desire in Jerome's eyes, his pupils blown wide, blocking out most of the green.
He purposely let his eyes fall to Jerome's scarred lips, letting them linger so that Jerome could see it clearly, then he looked up into his eyes again.
Jerome's expression had changed. His brows were furrowed now, eyes hooded, a dark smirk making his scars raise.
A look that said 'Do it. I dare you.'
Pretty boy.' His mind replayed right after, making his hand clench tighter around Jerome's.
And Bruce dared.