Pride:

There are certain things Jonathon Crane just will not submit to: His so-called peers at the university… the expectations of Gotham's social hierarchy… and the bizarre, not quite subtle advances of a useless playboy. The one and only Bruce Wayne.

Where the Socialite got his infatuation, Crane has no idea. Jonathon is sure he'd never given him anything to go by, but still the glances and innuendos go on and on. But Crane will not respond. He will not submit to some rich idiot's fantasy. Dr. Jonathon Crane holds himself higher than that. He did not get his doctorate in psychology to just roll over for some chiseled elitist millionaire slut.

Avarice:

So Bruce wants what he can't have. It's happened before, it'll happen again. Still, it's not often that he can't get exactly what he wants, and more, when it comes to sex. Usually anyone he pursues is quite happy to comply.

Jonathon, however, is playing hard to get. But Bruce can tell it's a conscious effort to stay unresponsive, which is extremely encouraging. Not that Jonathon doesn't hide his emotions well; he does, all except that ever-present pout. Bruce likes to think it's for him.

Being a psychiatrist, one would think Crane would realize his behavior is not making Bruce want him less. And Bruce does want. Oh, how he wants.

Lust:

When Bruce finally cajoled Jonathon into dinner, it took all of four glasses of wine for the millionaire to get him up against a wall. A five-star restaurant's bathroom wall, to be specific. Once there, Bruce lost no time in finding out just how far he could push the good doctor.

"You're holding back, Jonathon," Bruce murmurs. He'd just kissed the man half to unconsciousness and wants to hear some feedback. "Let it out." He snakes a hand between them, and Jonathon bites his lip harder. "Moan for me." Nothing. "You need to be fucked, Jonathon, long and hard. I'm. Going. To take. You." That does it. Jonathon moans; Bruce laughs.

Gluttony:

"Do you know how you look, Jonathon? All laid out and panting for me?" Bruce asks, gently teasing his navel with the feather of a quill. Jonathon's hands twist in their bonds as he struggles against the sensation. "You look like a dessert." Bruce introduces the other end of the tool in his hand, dragging the sharp nib across his lover's chest. Crane arches and makes a tiny sound. "Something decadent made just for me to enjoy." He follows the path of the quill with his tongue, laving a nipple before turning his attention to Jonathon's peach-syrup lips. They open with a broken whimper and Bruce greedily takes the offered treat.

Sloth:

It's probably past nine o'clock, but Bruce can't make himself care. He yawns and stretches, feeling more relaxed than he has in a very long while. Turning his head to the side, he sees a pair of impossibly blue eyes flutter open. Jonathon shifts comfortably.

"What time is it?" he asks, voice husked with sleep. Bruce presses a kiss to his wrist where it rests by his head.

"I don't care," Bruce replies, brushing his lips over and over the harsh red bruising- prettier than a bracelet. Jonathon's eyes move from his wrist to Bruce's face with a tiny spark of amusement.

"Some of us have work to do, Mr. Wayne."

Envy:

Jonathon knows Bruce has to keep up appearances. That knowledge, however, takes away little of the sting he feels every time he sees the man prancing around with some new tart, flirting and smiling.

Jonathan seems to end up at the same functions as Bruce more frequently as time passes and sitting on Bruce's right hand while some model sits on his left is surprisingly infuriating. Not even Bruce's hand on his thigh underneath the table tamps that down. After hours of this torture, Bruce is always rough, and he can forget.

Jonathon takes solace in knowing that soon he will not have to deal with Gotham's social culture any longer.

Wrath:

Scarecrow sits, huddled in the shadow of an old warehouse, trembling as his hallucinogen wares off. Rain is coming down in torrents and he pulls his feet back from the rivers of grime in disgust.

Things had gone wrong tonight, so terribly wrong. First Ducard had lied to him and then! Then that hell beast the Bat-man had ruined it all. Scarecrow slides his mask free and lets the rain wash over his face. The Bat had ruined everything. Scarecrow- Jonathon- had planned to go to Bruce after escaping the Narrows, but now he is surely a wanted man.

The Bat had taken that chance away. And Scarecrow will kill him.