#2f/bruce is underrated

[daedalusdavinci]

Bruharv 👨‍🎓📚🤝😈

send me 3-5 emojis and ill write a drabble based off of them

i gotchu. might be getting a little liberal with my emoji interpretations but college twobats here we go

There were times when Harvey was... not Harvey. It was hard to tell- he was good at pretending to be him, no matter how much Harvey insisted they were completely different, but as Bruce got to know them better and better, he was starting to learn how to coax him out.

He never gave Bruce a name. Not back then. But there were moments, just here and there, where he seemed to be testing Bruce, seeing if it was safe to be out around him. When he winked at Bruce from across the room, or let his real thoughts show through, showing the point where Harvey's faith in the legal system and his doubts diverged, Bruce knew it was him.

The most noticeable thing was always his temper. It was harder for him to suppress sometimes, and around Bruce, he didn't always try. More than once, Bruce found himself sitting upside down on his bed, listening as the man sharing a body with his best friend paced up and down his dorm, seething about whatever had driven him crazy that day. Sometimes it was the ignorance of a teacher. Sometimes it was his own DID. Sometimes it was a case file he couldn't stand. Bruce had always liked to listen, watching the way he gestured- bigger than Harvey, when they were alone, and more grandiose- and tracing the sharp flow of his words. His rants felt like a gift, like a rare glimpse into who he was.

And then there was the party.

Harvey had seemed nervous before it. Harvey had never really liked parties, always feeling awkward and out of place among the bodies, uncomfortable with the drinking and the noise. He went because Bruce did, but Bruce knew he didn't really like it, no matter what reassurances he gave Bruce. That didn't change when they got there, nor did it when he finally slipped out, making his escape to the roof.

Bruce found him there, knees held against his chest as he stared out at the campus in the distance. When he sat down next to Harvey, Harvey leaned into him, pressing their shoulders together.

"Over it?" Bruce asked, threading his fingers into Harvey's. Bruce had never been that affectionate, but he knew it helped Harvey, grounding him with touch.

"I hate the smell of alcohol," Harvey muttered, rubbing his thumb across the back of Bruce's hand. "Did he ever tell you that?"

Bruce blinked, glancing over at his friend. "Who?"

"Harvey."

Things fell into place. He'd never said it before, outright like that. It felt like trust, warm against Bruce's ribs. "No. He said he didn't like drinking."

"He probably doesn't remember it as well as I do. It's easier." The man next to him leaned his head on Bruce's shoulder, soft curls tickling against Bruce's jaw. "I couldn't take it anymore."

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah. It's just uncomfortable, like someone dragging their nails over your skin."

"I thought you liked that."

He snorted, turning his face against Bruce's shoulder. "There's a difference between you rubbing my back and someone clawing the shit out of your wrists. You know how you feel when you touch velvet?"

"Oh." Bruce made a face, shaking loose a shiver. "Eugh."

"Yeah." His voice was amused. "I'll be fine. I just needed some fresh air."

"We can go," Bruce offered.

He hummed. "In a minute. It's nice up here."

Somehow, Bruce didn't think he was talking about the view. Bruce turned his nose against the other's man's hair, squeezing his hand. "Okay," he said softly. "In a minute."

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