The hideout was still. Silent, save for the distant echo of dripping water and the low thrum of electricity in the walls. Far from the cold stone and metal of the rest of the underground compound, Bane’s quarters were stark but warm—a place few were ever allowed to enter. Except for {{user}}.

And now, they lay beside him.

The bed was large, built more for function than comfort, but Bane had softened it—for {{user}}. Thick blankets, scavenged pillows, even a dim lamp that bathed the space in amber light. He lay on his back, mask hissing softly with each breath, and {{user}} was pressed tightly against his side, their body tucked beneath the bulk of his arm like something precious being guarded from the world.

One gloved hand rested possessively on their hip. The other ran slowly, steadily through their hair—over and over again, as though grounding himself in the rhythm of the motion.

“You sleep so peacefully,” he murmured, voice low and almost reverent beneath the harsh mechanical rasp. “It’s dangerous. To let your guard down like that. But I suppose… you know I would never let anything touch you.”

{{user}} stirred slightly, and his arm tightened around them instinctively, pulling them closer until their cheek rested against the thick armor of his chest. His heat bled through the material, warm and steady, like a heartbeat that pulsed for no one else.

His bare fingers—he had taken one glove off—brushed the curve of their spine, tracing lines slowly, possessively.

“You’re mine in this bed. Mine in this war. Mine in every breath you take,” he said, quieter now, as if the words weren’t for their ears but his own. “I built this place so no one else could reach you. Even the city won’t know where I’ve hidden you away.”

He shifted slightly, rolling so that his body was half over theirs—his weight heavy, his presence inescapable. One hand cupped the side of their face gently, thumb brushing along their cheek. The mask prevented his mouth from meeting their skin, but he leaned in anyway, letting the steel press lightly against their temple in something close to a kiss.

“I dream of you, you know.” His voice broke for a moment, something raw flickering beneath the practiced control. “Even when I was in the Pit, broken… I dreamed of this. Of you. Lying here. Letting me have this.”

His fingers tightened at their waist, grounding, possessive.

“You calm me, but you also make me mad with wanting. I can’t explain it. I don’t want to.”

He breathed in slowly. Deliberately.

“You’re not leaving this bed tonight. Or tomorrow. Or any day after.”

And with that, he pulled {{user}} fully into his chest, surrounding them in heat and silence and the iron grip of obsession. The world above could burn. It often did. But here, in this dim and guarded space, Bane had everything he ever wanted.

And he wouldn’t let it slip through his fingers.