Chapter Text
Never in his life did Bruce think he would ever volunteer for something like this, but keeping up that playboy image had become exhausting as of late and this would boost him back up to new sexual heights. When he was approached to do a nude calendar Bruce got very nervous very fast, but honestly the idea of the entirety of Gotham seeing his Wayne Jr didn’t actually bother him that much.
It was supposed to potentially be a collab, but being Bruce “Extra” Wayne he decided he wanted to have his own gallery of dick pics for the public consumption for multiple charity funds he’d been unfortunately neglecting. A lot of his funds had been going into the medical field; treatment centres, testing facilities, pharmaceuticals, hospitals, Arkham. So these could help fund for social charities, something he can publicly support without attracting suspicion. Everyone needs to see him as an airhead or it’s just another clue he’s Batman.
Regardless, everything had been set up, and now he was sitting in a dressing room, only wearing a soft robe that was gently caressing his skin, constantly reminding him of how naked he was. It was scary, especially since it was arousing, and Bruce was using all his will power to keep down the erection stirring in his gut. “Mr Wayne! We’re ready for you!” He hears through the door. He takes a deep breath, and walks onto the set.
The set is almost liminal, it’s certainly uncanny. There's a green screen, multiple props in crates all labelled and ordered so as not to clutter the space, there's multiple cameras of different sizes and uses, Bruce can’t help but get a little more nervous. There's so many people, they’ll all be looking at him, but he’s Bruce Wayne so he needs to stay cool and confident. He’s used to attention like this, but not usually on his terms.
“Ah! Mr Wayne, I hope you’re doing well!” the head photographer approached and shook Wayne’s free hand, the other one tightly holding the robe together.
“I just hope I can do my best, I was briefed on all this but I'm still a little lost.” The photographer leads him over to the cameras.
“Well, let me at least assure you that my team is used to lude scenery with a clean up crew on standby,” he whispers off handedly “which we also have with us today,” Bruce turns a little pinker, maybe things will get as sexual as he’s possibly hoping for. The photographer goes back to normal volume, “so everyone here has seen everything under the sun. This is about whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Bruce just sort of nods, hoping his blush isn’t too obvious, but the small smirk he gets from the photographer tells him it's obvious how this is affecting him. Bruce is just happy he finds it amusing. Bruce is led over to the set, and gets given a rundown by a smartly dressed woman with a clipboard.
“We require a few seasonal entries for specific months, you can guess which ones. Christmas, Easter, Halloween, etcetera.” She shows him the checklist, some months are left blank but others are indeed labelled with holidays. “We have an array of props for you to try out, it just depends on how brave you’re feeling.” Bruce nearly laughs, but even he knows from the matter of fact way she says it that wasn't a joke.
Bruce opens his mouth to ask something, but his throat closes from embarrassment. The woman notices, and slowly lifts the clipboard up to cover them from the camera crew. “It’s okay to be nervous, but we’re here to help.” Bruce lets out a shaky sigh, “Ask your question.”
“When you say ‘feeling brave’, be blunt with me, are we gonna need the clean up crew?”
The woman can't hide her amusement, letting out a small puff of air. “Yes.” Is all she says, before moving away to talk to the lead photographer. Bruce is hard.
The cameras are finally set up, and Bruce is buzzing. He still hasn’t managed to will his erection away, and has just been pacing as he occasionally talks to someone about legal bullshit. Soon the lights are on, he’s on set and the first lot of props are wheeled out. “Right Mr Wayne, we’re going to start with Spring, then Summer, then Autumn and so on.” Yells out the head photographer. “Have a rummage then remove your robe.” Bruce gulps almost audibly, before having a look through the props.
There's plenty of flower themed props, it's almost all flowers. There's temporary tattoos, wreaths, crowns, bouquets, pillows. There's also some bunny ears, some eggs in a basket, a few easter themed things, but then he looks next to the box. There's a few bush props and even a large tree. “I could lean against this tree. Something nice and simple.” Bruce says out loud, letting the lead photographer know. “I could… heh, I could get ‘stuck’ in one of these bushes.” One of the camera operators laughs a little.
“I like those ideas Mr Wayne! We have something planned for the Holiday pages, so we’ll start with your ideas. Let’s start with the bush.” Two prop handlers carry it on set.
“Now Wayne, leave the robe on the hook there, so it's not in the shot.” Wayne clutches the belt of the robe. No one seems to be angry he's taking a moment, but he sees the woman from before whispering to the lead photographer. He’s shaking. “Mr Wayne,” he turns, trying not to look scared out of his mind. “One, we can stop any time you want. Plenty of people can get anxious, it's no problem for us.” Bruce nods, still looking embarrassed, “and Two, already being erect just means we don’t waste viagra.” Bruce can feel heat flooding his face, but he sighs, and finally takes off his robe.
“I was thinking I’ll just climb in. Strong start fully presenting everything just to get it out the way with I suppose.” Bruce is still covering himself with his hand, while using the other one to emphasise his speech.
“It should be soft in there, but you’ll be helped out if you need assistance. You’re doing great Wayne.”
Bruce looks down at the bush in front of him, he did suggest this, it’s just a room full of people he's about to expose himself in front of, it’s fine. “Hopefully I can still make suggestions from the bush.” he states, before getting on his knees. It’s like ripping off a bandaid as he shoved himself inside as fast as possible, like a rabbit hiding from a fox. He can’t see anyone, but he's fully aware his entire ass is open and on display. Until he can see everyone, because his head and shoulders and soon arms are out the other side of the bush, and he's doing everything he can to look at the floor. “I can crawl back in!” he squeakily cries out in panic,
“No no, seeing your face will just add legitimacy, we need your face in every shot.”
“You tell me that after I’m buried in a bush.” he would usually keep that tone to himself, but he's Bruce Wayne, he can brat it up if he wants. However, all he gets is an amused chuckle from a few of the staff.
Bruce is asked if he gives consent to be touched and moved around, he already signed a waiver but they always require it verbally, which he appreciates. He’s brought up on his knees, his legs are spread apart and his cock twitches. He grimaces, he hates how much he's enjoying this cuz this is just other people’s jobs, but he keeps getting reassuring looks from the guy at his front, who's helped him onto his elbows and is currently fixing his hair. He can hear the staff talking to each other about what to do next, but sitting like this is just making Bruce sweat.
“Now Bruce, you came out a few months ago, is that correct?” Bruce looks at the well dressed woman who just asked him that with slight bewilderment,
“No one’s sticking anything in me, are they?” he says with genuine panic.
“No no no, Mr Wayne, we’d never do something like that. We’d need to debrief other models for that,” so it's possible he could have a not so solo calendar in the future, “No, we’d just like to… imply there's been a visitor… or a few.”
Bruce is at least semi street smart, he looks like a whore bent over and open, he’s not sure if that’ll take his image too far. “We don’t have to, it’s up to you. It’s your image.” But even then that's not why Bruce doesn't like this idea. He’s a possessive guy at heart, very controlling which he's trying to work on, but he doesn’t want to seem like just anyone can have him. There's only one guy he wants.
“No, no, I think for my first run some of these should fain some innocence. I'm just an idiot who got stuck in a bush all flustered and erect. Just me. If we imply there are others it makes it all less personal, but it's almost like I've been caught by the customer and they can fantasise about what would happen next.” He hears a lot of agreeable noises, the guy at his front looks thoughtful of what Bruce has said. It’s not often he makes how aware of his image he is known, but now is as good a time as any to flex his public appearance muscles.
“Very good intuition Mr Wayne,” the woman says, “We’ll keep that in mind the rest of the shoot. But for narrative sake, how did you end up in the bush?” Bruce thinks for a sec, then shoves his arm back through the bush, his hand is just out of reach of his aching cock.
“Was trying to wank. That way I’m not entirely vulnerable, I gotta look happy about being found, I should make eye contact with the camera.” he gets some approving nods, but tries to hide a shiver as one of his fingers brushes his vulnerable prick.
“Do you think you could leak a bit?” the question caught him off guard turning him red, it was the photographer who asked too. “I uh, I wouldn’t mind.” he gets a hold of himself, “I mean, I can just about reach but, are you sure that's okay?” The guy who's been keeping his legs steady leans round so Bruce can see him.
“Hey man, we appreciate you being polite, we have dealt with some shitty actors and models before who just demand this sort of stuff. But this isn't retail where we do this job cuz we’re out of options, if you need help just ask.”
Bruce lets out a little squeak, he doesn’t think this is too professional but he could probably use the assistance. These people have almost definitely worked with worse.
“Yeah,” Bruce mumbles, “just until I’m leaking. Feel free to use anything back there, and I mean anything.” The guy nods, and then nods to his co-worker, then looks to the cameras “We’ll prep him.” which gets a thumbs up from the lead photographer.
Bruce feels rough fingertips tracing up and down his shaft, making him shudder and bite his lip to hold back any noises. The other staff are setting up the cameras so it's not dead silent, but he still doesn't want to be loud. The other hand gently cups his hanging balls, massaging them softly, forcing Bruce to cover his mouth with his hand. The man to his front starts smoothing over Bruce’s hair, styling it again, probably to distract him. It only makes Bruce anxious he’ll enter a subspace of some kind so he shakes his head. The man stops, giving him space. Soon a bead starts to form at Bruce’s tip, Bruce sounds breathy as he explains “Keep it up till there's a small puddle, everything good?” The man tells him yes and takes his hand from the balls, and starts circling Bruce’s hole. Bruce lets out a sigh, and precum starts gently flowing like a weak fountain. The man soon takes his hands away, which Bruce has to hide a whine because of, and now it's dead quiet. Everyone is watching him as he turns towards the camera, his face full of need as he weakly smiles biting his lip, positioning the hand by his cock to frame everything happening down there. He can hear the shutter going off, he starts biting his tongue, but then he brushes his skin again. Bruce lets out a gasp and has to close his eyes. A few seconds pass and the photographer yells “All done! Good job Wayne.”
Wayne is trembling, but he still tries to crawl out of the fake bush. Once he’s out he lets out a few shaky breaths, looking down at the puddle of pre between his legs, his cock slapping against his abdomen from how erect he is. The woman with the clipboard comes back over and Bruce immediately covers himself, standing up and backing away from the puddle. “Mr Wayne, are you alright?” He nods very fast, his breathing still fast. “We can take a break if you’d like.” Bruce shakes his head,
“No no, bring out the tree, if everyones fine with me jizzin’ on the floor I can finish with the tree.” The woman nods,
“I appreciate how efficiently you’re doing this.”
“No prob, I think I’m still leaking.”
The puddle is wiped up by a cleaner that Bruce thanks awkwardly as they pass him, making them laugh a bit. The tree is wheeled onto the set and parked so Bruce can lean on it. Bruce basically falls onto the fake bark, clutching his cock to stop the constant flow of lubrication and to quell the pain of how hard he is. “We could do an under shot, like an upskirt? Or I could be trying to hide in the shade, or both?” The lighting guys start to move the lights, and the cameras start moving around too. Bruce soon has a camera looking up at him from the ground being operated by a middle aged woman.
Bruce soon spreads his legs and lets his cock go, he’s stopped spilling which is nice, but his cock is an angry red. He sighs, the lack of pressure only offering brief relief before his dick starts to throb with need. “Everything good down there?”
“A bit wider please, love.” Bruce nods and widens his stance. He sticks his hips out, getting a thumbs up from the lady. Bruce suddenly thinks,
“Um, not trying to be weird, do you have a poncho or something? Being in the splash zone?” She chuckles, showing him a trigger connected to the camera, “Oh thank fuck.”
“Don’t worry Mr Wayne, I won’t need to get HR involved.” she smirks at him as she walks back, making him laugh a bit.
Feeling all the eyes on him, it's a lot to take in. Bruce must radiate anxious energy cuz most of the staff turn away or move out of sight as Bruce stands against the fake tree. “So I just… go for it? Sh-Should I aim for the camera?”
“If you think you can, Cindy will be here so she can activate the camera,” Bruce realised that's the first name he’s heard in this place, probably to distance themselves from the models. “Or we can get someone else.”
Bruce looks at this woman, Cindy, “Are you okay staying?” she smiles kindly,
“I can be turned around if you’d like Mr Wayne, you’d just have to verbally let me know when you’re about to burst.” she says it very playfully, like it's normal but still a bit funny.
“I uh, it’s up to you. I’ll be very focused, I’m not gonna care if you’re watching.”
“Sure, Mr Wayne.” he blushes a bit, she's probably dealt with exhibitionists before, but as the lead photographer and clip board wielding woman leave, she doesn’t turn around.
Bruce takes a deep breath, and drapes his arm over his eyes. He does this a lot at home, trying to block out the lights from his bright bathroom, and the studio is very bright. He keeps breathing deeply, trying to trigger a meditative state, and soon all he can feel is his hand on his cock. He starts to stroke hard and slow, it hurts, it’s so good.
He keeps stroking, soon he starts to leak again, but he catches the precum with his hand and uses it to lube his jerking. It makes the motion slick and loud and it fills his ears as he pictures what he wants in front of him. A tall, thin, pale man sat in a chair in front of him. Rather a throne, even if he can't see it. The man is watching him, piercing green eyes fixed on him. On his chest, watching in breath unevenly, watching his chest move and bounce as Bruce’s arm collides with his tit with each stroke. On his mouth, open, ready to be used if the man so requests it, Bruce is his. On his thighs, trembling with pleasure, spasming from spikes in Bruce’s gut that make him grit his teeth to avoid moaning. On his cock. His wet, red, pitiful cock that Bruce doesn’t care to use. He wants to be used, he wants to be this man’s pleasure, to be taken and ravished, to not even need to touch his cock to cum over and over.
In his mind the man just sits there, watching, leaning forward in awe of the show Bruce is displaying. One pale hand in his soft green hair, the other gripping his strong leg, as if he's waiting to touch himself, he wants Bruce to finish before he has him, but Bruce can see the impressive erection in his pants. Bruce wants it inside him, he wants it, he wants.
He audibly gasps, immediately flinging his arm back to brace himself on the tree. He looks down to the camera, a few drops of pre have landed near the camera which gives him a rough estimate of where he needs to aim. He sounds ragged but he cries out “Almost!” in case Cindy did turn around.
“I’m ready Mr Wayne.” he keeps frantically jerking, he can't look up, just stares into the camera, at his reflection. He looks wrecked, it's so hot, he’s ready. He grits his teeth, gripping his dick, lifting his hips, spreading his legs, his free arm gripping the tree. “GAHH!”
Semen lands on the lens of the camera, it doesn't completely cover it, but there's some on the side Bruce looks around. He can hear the camera taking photos as he runs his free hand through his hair, and looks down at the camera with relief. When he doesn’t hear the shutter anymore, he sits on the floor by the tree, panting.
“One more Spring shoot to go,” the lead photographer says as he returns to the set, “You think you got it in ya?”
Bruce sighs, and nods, “Should do, depends what you’ve got for me.”
Bruce is presented with a traditional playboy bunny outfit with ears and gloves. Bruce doesn’t want to look ungrateful. “Too feminine?” the clipboard woman asks.
“No no, lady, I’d wear that. I’d wear ball gowns if it was more accepted, no. I just… this is a nude calendar right?” he’s gotten used to being naked around these people already, being flaccid was definitely helping. “But even if I’m gonna have my genits out, it’s depriving people of these.” He grabs his own boobs, which makes the lead photographer raise his eyebrows. The clipboard lady nods, taking notes.
“So you wanna be accessorised only, hm. What do you have in mind for the shoot?”
“Well, I think the idea of me being a horny rabbit works, so maybe i just need something to fuck around with. Like…” he looks in the crate, rummaging around. “I could hump one of these plushies or hell, I will shove these eggs up my ass. I’m sure some people are into that.”
The lead photographer has a baffled smile on his face, while the clipboard woman is taking notes. She taps her chin with her pen, clearly deep in thought. “I like those ideas, rather than dressing you up as a bunny, you’ll pose like one, fucking into something. I’m sure we can find a themed fleshlight somewhere. A girl from the props department pipes up,
“I’m on it, we do!” she scampers off, which makes Bruce smile. He then grabs the bunny ears and puts them on, grabs the egg basket and waltzes back onto set.
“Glad he’s getting some confidence” the photographer whispers.
Bruce is crouched down, tits to the floor, ass in the air, rabbit themed clear fleshlight in hand, currently jerking it on the set. His bunny ears flop back and forth, there's a tail plug nestled in his ass, he feels like a spectacle and it's wonderful. He can hear the camera being set up, and moves his hand from his dick, the fleshlight staying wrapped tightly around his cock. He positions his hands in front of him, balling them into fists to resemble paws. He lifts his hips higher so the light catches the clear pink tinted rubbery material. The final few photos are taken, and Bruce is allowed to flop on the floor, cock throbbing for attention the exhausted Bruce will need a minute to give.
“I think we can call it a day everyone!” the lead photographer exclaimed cheerfully, “We’ve put a wrap on the spring collection, only 3 more seasons to go.” Bruce whimpers out a ‘yaay’ while he lies face down on the floor.
“Mr Wayne,” the woman with the clipboard approaches, “I suggest we call it a day for the sake of your health and continue the shoot another day. I’m sure it’s been stressful for you in this new environment.” Bruce should be offended, he’s supposed to be a playboy fucking till the break of dawn, but he’s not. He’s tired, really tired and exposed and he wants to shower and sleep. He nods, shakily getting up from the floor, his cock still screaming at him for attention. The woman looks at it briefly, visible confusion on her face, probably wondering how he’s still hard.
“I’m tired as hell but this was very… stimulating. Don’t worry about me, I’m not on any ‘performance enhancers’ or anything.” They both chucklee and the woman rolls her eyes.
“Well, good luck with that Mr Wayne, feel free to use the shower in your changing room. We’ll see you in two days?”
“Sounds good,” Bruce says as he slides on the robe, “I’ll see you then.” Bruce leaves for his room.
The hot water glides over the expanse of Bruce’s skin, as he stands under the harsh spray head against the wall looking into nothing. He’s thinking, remembering to close his eyes as the water kisses his cheeks. His breathing slows and he imagines the pale man behind him. Joker. He’s always had a complicated relationship with him, but he never imagined Batman would end up the third wheel. Joker has always said he loved Batman, but it's less a love and more a codependency. Bruce likes to think Joker didn’t know real love until he met Bruce Wayne, which is why he’s getting more bitter towards the bat.
But he likes Bruce, he enjoys his company, he cares about him, worries about him. He finds him attractive, sexy in a way no one else has ever seen Bruce. He never pinned the Joker as a top, with his lithe frame and feminine wiles, but fuck was he ever a dominant force. He turned Bruce’s pride to putty with his dexterous fingers, leaving him drooling and begging. Bruce was whining as he fingered himself in the shower, imagining the Joker finding the calendar, the lude photos, seeing the lust in Bruce’s eyes, and being overwhelmed with need. They both long for each other, it’s obvious, and Bruce loves feeling wanted, and he knows Joker does too. Bruce came with a whine, taking a minute to breath before washing his hair. This was all for him, a part of a new game, and Bruce was excited to play.