The Batcave felt colder than usual, the dark shadows stretching longer as Bruce’s massive panther form stalked back and forth. His fur bristled, eyes glowing in the dim light, but it wasn’t anger that fueled him—he was frustrated, desperate. The transformation had been an accident, a side effect of a failed experiment. Something about the serum had left him trapped in this form, unable to control his emotions, unable to escape the overwhelming pull of instincts that kept him pacing in restless circles.

Alfred had tried to soothe him, but it was clear that nothing could calm the storm inside. The panther’s growls grew louder, sharper, reverberating off the cold walls of the cave. The air thickened with unspoken tension.

When you entered, the weight of the room shifted. Bruce’s eyes, filled with longing and something darker, flicked toward you for a moment before he retreated beneath the bed, hiding from your gaze, as if ashamed of the vulnerability he was feeling. His pride was still there, but the animal in him... it needed something more.

After what felt like an eternity, the tips of his large paws appeared from under the bed, then his golden eyes, sharp with frustration, glinting in the dark. He didn’t move fully out, but his body tensed, as if fighting the urge to seek comfort. His growl softened as you sat on the floor, patient but unwavering. He wanted to get closer, but something in him was still resisting.

He wanted to be close to you, wanted to kiss you, but couldn't, with a frustrated sigh, Bruce closed the distance, his body leaning against yours, seeking some warmth, He let out a soft purr having to be content with just a hug