Disclaimer: Not my characters
Warnings: Rated for the central theme of sex though nothing actually happens for reasons that will become apparent
It is too messy. Panting, sweating, grunting, thrusting—these things are supposed to hold appeal to the highly evolved mind, a product of aeons of evolution? He thinks not. Flesh slapping, fluids leaking and exchanging, mingling in distasteful ways. It's all rather unhygienic.
There are better ways to get close to another. The penetration of a sterilised needle. Dilated pupils and elevated pulses, shaking spasms and a pure unadulterated cry.
There are few things more passionate than a scream.
Different partners provide a different response and he loves finding sensitive spots, breaking points. It's rather less messy and far more…intense.
It is too intimate. He knows it's wrong to use women even if they're trying to use him. He knows he should find the idea of relieving his frustrations in sex and sweat and flesh shameful. But it's not the intimate deceit that stops him.
Bruce doesn't know who he is. He's empty as the cowl he hangs up every morning. Getting intimate with another is not a risk to Batman's identity, but a risk to Bruce's self. The prospect of anyone seeing the emptiness terrifies him. He is not a shell, damn it, but sex… is way too intimate.
It is too human. It really is. The one thing he can't stand is the banal and the trite. The thing about sex is, well, it's been done before.
He's creative, inventive, the definition of unique, but there is nothing, and he means nothing, that hasn't been tried. The human animal has no inhibitions with this one impulse behaviour. This means it's become too clichéd, it's oh-so mundane. There's no punch line, no flavour, so it has no appeal.
Although anything with the Bat transcends everything, always. But he's a realist and until that happens… it's not really his thing.
It is too meaningless. It all is, especially without her. There is no one like her (Oh God, Rachel) and there won't ever be.
He sits on the edge, half dead and half sane. There's no truth and no order. Things just happen out there. Galaxies collide, stars explode and whole planets will die. And guess what? The universe—doesn't. Even. Blink. It didn't even notice when she...
The flip holds no meaning, it just makes a choice. But while he flips for it all, he won't flip for this. Without her it's just pointless…there'd be no meaning at all.