Work Text:
How long had it been?
The cool wind remained silent. Adrift as traces of snowy remnant littered the ground.
How long had it been since fresh blood blanketed the white fluff of existence?
How long until the deed actually happened?
The Joker had gone underground, his disappearance coming up upon about a month and a half now.
Not that Bruce had noticed.
Of course he hadn't.
But as Batman...
Well it was his job to keep tabs on the whereabouts of all his villains, no matter how big or how small.
The fact that the vigilante had no idea on the Prince of Mischief's hideout other than where Harley Quinn had been seen popping up, did little to ease the Bat.
So when the News popped up quickly spreading a recent sighting of the green haired man in question, a wave of relief crashed upon the Billionaire as he leaned back, readjusting in his chair as he stared at the various monitors in his Batcave.
"In other news, the city of Gotham lays in anxious wait as a spray of bullets here in downtown park have resulted in a group of cars set ablaze as the maniac known notoriously as 'The Joker' is seen leaving the scene of the crime; leaving the city of Gotham to wonder, what comes next? Stay tuned as we-"
Bruce turned, shutting the TV off as he rubbed at his eyes, finally breathing soundly.
A couple of burned cars with no casualties or deaths?
Tame.
At least for the clown.
As his computer's began to scan and lock on a location of his enemy, the vigilante couldn't help but notice the way his chest rose heavy, the shallow dip of chest filling deeply and loud as the monitor glowed and hummed; picking up a signature and a location.
**
"Bruce?"
His shoulders stiffen, but Bruce squares his body back so as to hide any physical reaction.
"I'll be back Alfred."
"As I assume as such Master Bruce."
Poor Alfred, things had been strained the last few weeks between them, the constant debate of whether Batman was really a blessing or a curse.
They would talk, Bruce promised himself. But for now...
For now he had a date with a maniac.
**
Wood splinters and breaks, pieces spraying across the ground as Batman shoulders his way through the warehouse, not breaking eye contact as the lights overhead flicker and die.
His Intel had been right, like always. The Joker was indeed here and not only that, Bruce was staring right at him.
"W..e...ll... if it isn't my favorite toy." The curl of a voice he hadn't heard in months purrs out, screaming loudly in the confines of the vigilante's head as he clenches his fist, biting back any sign of emotion from showing.
Slender long legs uncross as the clown leans forward, sitting up straighter to smile his menacing smirk at the vigilante.
"Batsy what do I owe this pleasure?" He's not startled, not even shocked and the billionaire can't help but despise the man for it.
Smug fucking bastard.
It's as if nothing had happened the last couple months, and perhaps to the Joker, it was quit possibly true.
Bruce learned over the years to not be dumbfounded by anything his nemesis did or said, noting the green menace would do anything to elicit a response from his toy; no matter the cost.
And what was this? Another endless senseless moment? Another chalk mark to add to the never ending cycle the two danced?
Was all that worry- fear, the billionaire had spent months over analyzing for countless sleepless nights all for nothing?
The horror of the other man's touch, the way he smelt... the way he caused deep seeded dark feelings to stir low in his body, curling up and begging to surface with every stroke of those trademark long fingers as they moved lower...
An all too familiar voice calls out, startling the playboy from his thoughts and he almost breaths a sigh of relief before piecing together who it is.
"Mistah J, Mistah J! I have the explosives lined up for- Oh." Harley stops dead in her tracks, noticing the unwanted visitor as fingers dig deep into the side of her hips. She pretends of course, doesn't want to give anything away but her smile doesn't quit reach her eyes and Bruce knows it, and so two does the Joker.
Nobody cares but Harley, and she's painfully aware of that fact as well; deep hatred boiling underneath her face upon seeing the Batman by her man.
The other man always ruined everything- unsure why her Mister J couldn't see it to. They'd be so happy if he'd just kil-
"Now Darlin, why don't you go right on and do that, and I'll check in with you later." He's waving his hands away, absentmindedly and by the look on her face; both boys know she want's to protest but she knows better. Scowling to herself she bats her eyelashes quickly at the clown before turning hotly on her heels and walking away.
She does happen a quick glance back at the vigilante, noticing his eyes piercing into the back of her head as she scowls at him before disappearing from view; leaving the two boys by themselves for the first time since the incident.
It was a mistake.
Yet actions betrayed the vigilante as he found himself stepping closer to the clown before pausing, stopping a foot away.
"Sometimes I wonder why you do the shit that you do, then I remember who I'm talking to." His voice is cold, betraying nothing. He won't feed into the Joker's need for weakness.
Batman was a vigilante and he was here for the same thing he always was.
Putting the Joker behind bars.
The maniac adjusts, legs still heavily sprawled as he plays with his fingers between his legs, grin never faltered as his eyes the masked man up and down.
He seems to think carefully of his response before nails run through hair, sending a shock of green locks tumbling around even wilder as he licks his lips excitedly.
"Awe Batsy Dearest, you know your my one true Darlin. No need to get jealous." and hes tsking, as if he has everything figured out, a curled snarl etched on his face.
Bruce pales behind the mask, knowing the implications of what his nemesis implying.
"What are you on about Joker. You know what I'm talking about. All the murders, the destruction."
His enemy scoffs, as if the words uttered are nothing short of absurd.
"Pft, your talking about that? That's nothing."
"Joker." Bruce growled, taking another step. His lack of care was helping, fueling the vigilante's anger in the right direction as he suddenly felt a sense of strength over come him.
"Common Batsy baby, you know why I do the things that I do."
Body rocks back and forth, hands folded into his lap as he eagerly waits for words to register and sink in.
A cold curl of disgust feeds the bowels of the vigilantes stomach as he tries his best to swallow the implications without dwelling.
It was a worry that Alfred had mentioned on numerous occasions.
The Joker was a lit fuse and Batman was the catalyst to the explosive concoction.
He swallows down the lump in his throat, refusing to budge as he adds for good measure, "I could honestly care why you do the horribly twisted things that you do other then that your sick." His eyes narrow as he makes sure the green eyed man is listening.
"The only thing I care about Joker, is putting your ass away where you can't harm anyone but yourself anymore."
To his disgust, the Joker doesn't seem deterred from the words, if anything quite the opposite.
The Joker's cooing, eyes shining bright with desire and mischief as he gives a good natured wink to his Bat.
"Why Batsy baby, you truly have a way of words don't you, and swearing non the less? What a naughty boy. You truly got me positively flush with need."
"And I always need you, don't I." He whispering the words, mouth a splay of angry excitement as he licks his lips in anticipation.
Don't think, just do. Remember your training.
He closes his eyes for a beat, steadying his breathing as he disregards the term of the clown's words, refusing to be deterred.
Finally, he opens his eyes, pupils dilating and locking on the taller man.
"I'm not here to play your games Joker. Now you can come with me quietly or I'll take you by force like I always do."
Trained hands move silently, slipping underneath as fingers curl around the batarang just underneath the belt.
"Now what ever could you possibly mean my dearest Bat?" Hands splayed in his chin as he his eyes twinkled, yet his face etched a scowl of disgust as if surprised to be questioned. He danced around the figure, making sure to stay out of arms reach in case Batman tried to take a go at him.
"You know what I fucking mean," and hes taking two sturdy steps, chest forward and shoulders held high as he walks with a confidence that was surely practiced.
To the untrained eye, the movement was precise, calculated. But the the clown knew his pet all too well, knew what he was really like. Knew when something was off.
But in order to understand all this you'd have to understand that it had been nearly two months now since Bruce Batman had come across the green eyed man by the name of The Joker.
Two months of darkened thoughts of the last interaction he had between himself and the Prince of Mischief, an uneasy troubled feeling of ' what now?' hanging in the air with no sign of an answer in sight.
"I always know what you mean my darling Bat. I know what you imply and I know what my dearest needs." Hes coy, a definition of smug at the feeling of knowing who Batman really was.
Bruce flinched back at the words, a tense emotion of distress blanketing his face as he took a step back.
The Joker noticed, moving in closer to make up for the hesitation, eyes resting on dark ones that hide behind a lair of fear.
He reacts, almost on instinct from years of combat, the battarang swinging out quickly from below his belt, slicing through the air as it hits it's mark- the Joker's cheek.
He doesn't have to hear the sound to know he's struck his target- he can practically taste it. Pale skin warping up as a long scar bleeds open, old flesh springing up blood red.
The Joker pauses in step a moment, almost as if in revelation, before he's growling darkly, flitting his fingers against the wound to inspect the damage.
Bruce watches- knowing that look all too well as he gears himself up for his next attack but is appalled when the man does nothing instead.
His nemesis is changing, becoming more unpredictable with each encounter and for once Bruce feels unprepared, unsure what to do now. Years of fighting and studying his nemesis has set himself in a routine and now the clown was changing the game completely and the Bruce wasn't ready- he needs preparation time.
He's given none.
His reflexes are almost inhumanly quick- a hand comes up- slapping hard against the side of Bruce's cowl as his head snaps to the side. The Prince of Mischief was tall, skinny, but the man could hit like Bane.
Cloudy thoughts rattle through the dazed man for but only a moment but it doesn't matter. The moment lapse is all the clown needs before he's pressing close, body flush against the vigilante.
"Did you miss me Batsy?" and the sky cracks open, a noise so defining and startling as the rain begins to fall.
The chaotic environment is as bleak and unexpected as the interaction between both enemies but Bruce pretends not to notice the cold wet press against his skin as he blinks, looking up.
A broken slap of metal missing from the warehouse rooftop is to blame for the cold chill that crawls it's way in, seeping through to the very bone.
The wet brushing up against the clowns gleamingly perfectly applied lips.
Moisture spiraling down against flesh. The stream is steady, the results impacting and blurring at the lines of the green eyed man's make up.
The Joker knows his makeup is running, he doesn't care, the grin still evident on his face as his stretches thin against the trademark scars.
He looks wrecked.
He looks in control.
"Batsy dearest, I said did you miss me?" And he's lightly touching the billionaires chin, the cowl pulled up slightly, the faint lines of stubble speckling against his jaw line.
Yes.
But he won't admit that.
He loves this man...
Wait what!
But Bruce remembers...
A flash of recognition and there's a memory of smoked lines, as bodies line the streets of Gotham.
The color red wraps itself around, uncovering the once brightly sanctioned streets, now a mirage of crimson and muddled to a fine point.
It's everyone's Joker's every taunted, tortured and horrifically murdered.
He is after all, the Prince of Mischief, and these are the spoils of his victories.It's his murders that smile twistedly up...
The green eyed man is the cause of all of Batman's agony, his suffering he simply can't slip..
..and he hates this man, so fucking much.
Bruce turned angrily, eyes blinking through the steady fall as he growls in anguish, guilt twisting in his gut.
He doesn't answer the maniac at first, doesn't bother trying to come up with an insult that isn't obviously true.
"What fucking makes you think that." His voice steadfast and rising, daring to be challenged as he knows for once he is about to win.
The memories of his spoils of war are fresh on the vigilantes mind as he remembers everyone the Joker ever hurt. He could never love such a vile creature; could never even be friends with such a thing.
For once he will destroy the Joker, and there's nothing his enemy can do about it but take the fall and Batman Bruce will finally walk away a free man.
His confidence so sure, the billionaire almost misses the quiet words whispered next.
Almost.
"Because I missed you."
The anger quickly disintegrates, vaporizing as the words sit heavy in Bruce's conscience.
Bruce want's to laugh, to scoff, but the manic beats him to it, rushing his next words in a slur of almost urgency.
"I missed you so much Batsy, and I know you feel the same way."
"Why else would you be here?" And he's gesturing around, eyes wide and bright as he turns slowly in a circle, arms spread apart and fingers out stretched as he feels the air between his finger tips.
He stops spinning, eyes resting on the vigilante as fingers move curling along Batman's neck; breath lightly ghosting against covered skin.
When did he get so close?
Bruce can't recall.
It takes everything in his power not to slap the other man away; completely unaware of that being the natural and normal response.
Yet still he doesn't dare and the Joker knows this.
"Because I missed us, Bruce."
..Don't.
Why am I listening to this?? I need to arrest him and..
wait...
WAIT.
BRUCE.
BRUCE!?
He..Oh god he knows.
He fucking knew.
He always knew.
Batman remained motionless, body portraying none of the hurricane of emotions that have erupted suddenly inside himself as horror spreads throughout his veins.
His most dangerous foe had somehow figured out his identity, he knew who was he was; who he played dress up as.
How long has he known for?
Bruce can't keep his thoughts straight, wires crossing into various synapses and fizzing over.
Bruce..... Bruce...
Bruce....
The brunette tightened his hands, hands desperately clutching at his mask as he scratches at the object, hands tearing as finger nails bend and rip against cowl.
He wasn't supposed to know...he was NEVER supposed to know..
The vigilante worked quick, knowing he was about 5 seconds away from losing control of the situation. He forced the fear down his throat as unseeing eyes blink, shooting for indifference as he simply states, "How?"
The Joker doesn't respond with words, simply smirking a devilish grin as he blows Bruce a kiss and giggles to himself with pleased demeanor.
Bruce fucking hates it, every second of his fucking show boating arrogance. He wants to tear the clowns walls down, make him nothing; show the man he means nothing.
Instead the bat breaks first, voice wavering and betraying as he heatedly calls out, "You missed me?? What a fucking joke." For once the vigilantes voice is rising, his fears leaking and displaying a lash of anger, as Bruce begins to panic in dread. He's losing it; unable to contain the feelings that have bottled up over the years between himself and the Joker.
He want's to shut up, to leave as quickly as he can and come back when he is prepared for what is needed to do. Preparation, that's all I need. Bruce tells himself as he tries to make sense of how much danger he now is in.
However, the billionaire finds that no matter how hard he tries to move, only his mouth obeys, still spouting and going off to cover up his severe concern.
"You knew this whole time who I really was and what did you do with that information? Absolutely fucking nothing! You know why you think your always so funny? It's not because your a clown; hell that's the only half assed humorous thing about you! No, it's because your pathetic excuse that you call Life, is nothing but one big fucking joke."
There was a pause, the silence echoing against harsh words, syllables dancing and shinning for all to see. For the billionaire, it had to be the single longest moment for him, and the Joker's life but still, Bruce refused to back down, knowing there was no going back.
"DID YOU HEAR ME!? I SAID YOUR A FUCKING JOKE!" His voice for the first time slips, wavering with such uncertainty that he knew the Joker was sure to pick up on.
Voice raw, broken, he almost whispers, quietly, "Your incapable of anything but sorrow and misery that you leave in your wake and yet you expect me to miss such a being- thing as you. You think you deserve for me to miss you? Then fucking prove it."
The air had left the room, the atmosphere stuffy and unbreathable as if the rain had never exist only mere moments ago.
It was an unearthly sickening hot, and as Bruce felt the sweat began to drip from his forehead, he glanced at the green eyed maniac in front of him.
Steady perspiration was spreading on the clowns face; mixed with stale rain water as the clowns make up began to peel and blur along the ridges and cheeks of the Jokers face. Everything melted and twisted, dying out to the temperature. Everything but the trade mark smile, with the ruby red lips.
The lipstick, perfectly intact.
Bruce knew the heat wasn't to blame for the mess of the man in front of him, the rain now mere trickles through the open pane.
Yet still, he remained silent, standing by his words, hoping they tore at his nemesis soul.
If he even has one..
Whether his words did or didn't effect the tall lanky man ( Bruce was sure in some instance he had) the Joker made a habit not to show, scowl ripped against the narrow jaw line. A look that twisted almost further then his face could reach.
"Batsy I have proved it to you. Many many times." And he was angry, but Bruce swore he could pick up...
Sadness?
And Bruce doesn't want to but he can't help resist the call, can't help but look up into the Joker's eyes, trying to see what secrets lie behind them as he stares wearily.
"Is that so?"
"Well Batsy," he leaned forward, hands behind his back as he grins close to his vigilante.
"Your alive aren't you?" and he's grinning wicked as if he just accomplished the single most sexiest thing in the world.
Bruce is not amused.
"How thoughtful Joker, and here I thought you didn't care." His voice is dry, cold, no nonsense.
"On the contrary honeybuches," Bruce shudders at the nickname that slips too easily from the bright red lips.
"I care about you the most, make no fucking mistake," and the maniac is positively growling, his words offering no room for arguing.
"You sure have a funny way of showing it."
At this the clown laughs, twirling with hands out stretched as he closes his eyes as he slowly spins, as if enjoying the leisurely rain. Finally opening, bright green orbs lock on the billionaire as he moves, tsking his finger in front of the annoyed vigilante with a lecherous smile, "Well BRUICE baby, you did say my life was one big fucking joke, remember? Sides, I knew I could show you I was funny...and now welcome to my life baby!" He laughs loudly, his dark sickening trademark call screaming loudly against the area. It was an all too familiar sound that left most men riddled with insanity.
To Batman, the words rang familiar.
It whispered dependence, safety.
Safety?
Batman bulked, shaking his head as he clasped his hands together in front of his forehead.
How fucked up am I?
Note to Alfred, have him check my head for possible concussions when I get back.
The room seemed too real, as if a line had been crossed and Bruce almost felt guilty for his comment.
Almost.
Then I regained my common sense.
It was a second of regret before The Joker turned, twirling around as his mood quickly shifted, as did the atmosphere.
The Prince was always good at making a situation end in his favor and this was no different, changing the game up to casual and fun again.
A scenario which Bruce wasn't quit sure which was worse yet.
"You know Batsy, when was the last time you got right down and had a good fuck."
The billionaire froze at the words, but his brain couldn't help but surface an immediate answer.
Lucy Writelittle.
"Your such a tense, tense man." and his fingers curl around the edge of Batman's lower bicep, running a seductive digit down the broad flesh as he gave a firm and lecheraous squeeze.
"I wonder why that is..." he purrs seductively, breath close to the rim of the vigilante's ear.
The billionaire says nothing, refusing to bate the other man. Not that it mattered, the Joker already fueled on such a high energy trip that was keeping him constantly moving, legs and arms floating almost with careful ease.
"Lucy was it? Gosh she sure was a pretty thing wasn't she?"
This time Bruce reacted,growling out, as he grabs his nemesis wrist with a strong hold. Joker looks down at the interaction, positively glowing and purring as he enjoys the feel of his Bat and his anger.
How...? He hadn't told anyone about her; for she simply meant nothing but warmth and a bit of fun.
Then a sick thought occurred to the billionaire.
If hew knew his identity as Bruce Wayne, then surely the clown knew everything.
Of course the Joker knew of her. If his maniac was aware of his secret identity all along, then how hard was it to imagine the Prince of Mischief was keeping tabs on his favorite play thing.
"You kids lasted what, 6 weeks? Such a shame, the press had such good...things to say about you two," the jealously baring its ugly teeth as the maniac smiled, covering up quickly as he used his one free hand to pierce sharp nails into the suited hand that was holding onto him still.
His Batman attire protected him well, but the playboy couldn't deny the burning desire to actually feel the cuticles dig into his flesh, almost welcoming it.
The vigilante grunted in response, knowing there had been no talk of them in the press but refusing to bring up the topic.
"You see Brucie, it seems like you have a problem keeping a relationship."
Another grunt.
"And maybe, just maybe, your relationships aren't the only thing you lack at...keeping up." At this the clown is positively beaming," And Bruce senses the ill ease coating the back of his throat.
Still, he seems nothing. Just stares blankly as the Joker continues to play, fingers dancing lightly against the billionaires chest with every word uttered.
"What's the matter my little ol' Brucie Baby. Pretty young wealthy girls not your thing? You don't seem to be enjoying them as much darlin'. Maybe you just need to try a couple guys out, fuck it out of your system just once or twice for good measure. And then everything will go back to normal, won't it Brucie?"
Bruce doesn't even bat an eyelash- fingers up and snapped against the other flimsy wrist of the clown. The billionaire knows he can break each hand with ease, that the snap of bones breaking would satisfy some anger, but he doesn't, simply holding firmly ; a clear warning tone imminent.
And the Joker loves every moment, every point of contact his Batsy will give him as eyes shine bright- pure electricity as he smiles knowingly. The clown knows something that he's not telling-
Yet.
" Ah ah ah, but waiiiiiiiiit."
He's slipped out the hold Bruce has on him, as he smiles up happily, lips brushing against shoulder blade.
The Jokers singing, his eyes shining with excitement as he begins to create a drum roll with his pant legs.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he turned, bowing to an imaginary crowd as Batman looked away, steadily growing annoyed of his green haired nemesis. He knew whatever was about to come out of the clowns mouth,he wasn't going to like; and he had been right.
"That just wouldn't be true...Now would it Batsy. In fact, you were quite the fucking connoisseur when it comes to men."
And Bruce can literally feel the anger radiating off the maniac's voice, hear the envy of what others have had, and what the clown thinks he is owed.
His obsession...
The Joker's one and only weakness.
Unfortunately, unknowing completely to Bruce, it was Batman's as well.
"And how long did those all last Batsy?"
Not long...
"None of your fucking business, why are we even talking about this." He's aware of the mistake he has made, drawing attention to the issue, but refusing to back down.
The Joker licks his lips excitedly, moving in as fingers splay underneath the scruffy chin of Bruce as he yanks his head forward, an expression of clear surprise on the vigilantes face as he growls at him.
"Why indeed," he quietly hums to himself before locking eyes with his toy.
"OOh but then again Batsy, you know I always make something my business. Your in Gotham baby, your every bit of my fucking business, I.OWN.YOU."
"Ha! Don't make me laugh Joker," and hes reaching down into his belt with nibble fingers, grabbing the bendable steel in his hands as he moves to tie his nemesis up; having just about enough nonsense for one night.
He gets the cord about halfway off his belt before a voice cuts through the air, stiffening the brunette as the vigilante freezes; forgetting his task at hand.
"I know that pretty little mouth of yours thinks of me just before you close your eyes, and just as you fucking wake up in the morning. I am everything to you Bruce. Every woman that you try to fuck, to every man you decide to suck, I will be the only one you'll ever want to fuck. "
He's not embarrassed, nor ashamed as a smile plasters through the peeled fabric of his make-up, face clearly pleased with what hes had to say as his smile grows even more when the other man doesn't say a thing back.
"My I got quite the way of words don't I Batsy? I'll be making love poems in no time." he muttered in mild abuse, the taste of the rhymes swirled against his tongue in glee.
"So when I ask you if you miss me," hes laughing loud, hysterically, yet still managing to display his cold harsh message as hands stay touching the warm skin of his Bat. Working slowly, he moves in a circle around the billionaire, hand grasping his still covered face.
"I'm not really asking. I already fucking know," an animistic grow escaping past thin lips.
"Your..." Batman hesitates, choosing his words carefully so not to cause an adverse reaction from the maniac.
"Something else."
The Joker scoffs, but continues to lightly stroke the exposed vigilantes face before letting go with gentle squeeze. Turning, the lanky man began to pace, humming a quiet to himself before speaking up once more.
"Well Batsy baby, what can I say, shucks I'm a romantic.
I don't need your confirmation, I already know. I know you Bruce, like the back of my hand.
And you...you know me..." He's moving in, slaughting their fingers together, pale against tan, as if their hands and fingers were meant to intertwine.
It feels eerily natural, such a domestic gesture and it terrifies Bruce to think of such things.
Concentrate. You NEED to get the upper hand in this game.
Bruce was unprepared, he had no backup plan let alone a plan, and so he did the first thing that came to his lust filled agitated mind.
He moved quick, closing the gap before the maniac could as he fisted both sides of the Joker's collar, desperately pulling him deep into his chest.
The billionaire was flustered, that much was obvious to himself as he displayed the perfection of calm and cool on the outside.
He was angry to see the Joker still looked normal, minus the growing pupils of lust driven demands as he eagerly let himself be pulled towards his vigilante.
"We played this game already Brucie," and he was purring, eyes glowing as he ran a finger against the scrap of the vigilante's suit.
"YOU played," Bruce hissed back , clearly not thinking straight as he pressed further,
"We played by your roles Joker, now... let's see how much you like to play the fucking pawn."
The words out merely seconds before muscular arms move, tightening around the tall lanky man as Bruce sealed the small gap between their faces, lips brushing lightly against the red colored flesh.
The Joker gasped in surprise, before noises turn to a quiet whine of bliss as he moved with the direction before...almost shyly... breaking the interaction off in chaste movement before he cocked his head, turning to snuggle the side of the billionaires head deep against the vigilantes shoulder blade, as green eyes sparkled and looked into the eyes of his Bat.
Stick to the plan.
and as Bruce advanced his hand along the side of the Joker's jaw, tipping it once more against his own, he deepened the kiss, silencing the clown, he realized the Prince of Mischief had won.
There was no fucking plan.
He had finally broke not only Batman, but his alter ego as well, billionaire playboy business man Bruce.
Except he wasn't really a play boy, no not really.
There was only ever one person Bruce ever wanted. He just couldn't bring himself to admit it, even now.
As he was pinning the Joker, body pressed hard and flat against the bricks behind them as Bruce realized he was holding him up, the man's long lanky legs just an inch shy of the ground.
Bruce couldn't help but wonder what he was doing and how his actions had lead up to this moment.
What the hell am I doing?
I don't want to do this!
Suddenly the Joker slipped out a sound, the first real sound as a delighted and needy moan escaped through ruby stained lips and Bruce lost it.
He wanted this.
He fucking had to have this...whatever this was.
It would of sickened Bruce to know that the thought only fueled him harder, only made him want it more as he slipped a wet tongue past parted lips, the Joker all too happy to oblige as he panted excitedly.
The kiss seemed to last forever, neither man refusing to back down or break it as wet sounds fill the still air.
When eternity seemed to pass, the Joker is the first to break away, breathing deeply as he regains some of the severely depleted oxygen.
The clown can feel his Bat's eyes on him, smiling to himself as he looks up with heated eyes that pierce into his own.
"Ooh Brucie look at that tongue of yours. So wanton and well practiced! I bet all your little boys taught you a thing or two, didn't they because I know girl's don't kiss this slutty."
Bruce falters, eyes darting to green emeralds and he pretends not to vascillate and flush at the words.
He needs to show Joker who's boss. Who really was in control of the games they played, unknowing and not.
"And what if they did?" Knowing the words would drive the maniac mad.
He was right.
"Then I would tell you that you don't fucking know anything" he growled with envy, uncontrollable rage flashing against his fine features.
The vigilante rolled his eyes at the predictable behavior.
Some things never change.
Yet he wasn't upset, in fact the billionaire was secretly enjoying the Joker's needy want for him.
"That's not what you were whining about like the little whore you are only moments ago," and he was taunting with heavy panted breath as if daring to push the clown over the edge.
A dark color swirled in the iris of the maniacs eyes as his lips curled in an angry snarl, body thrashing against the strong hold.
"All to get in your pants Batsy baby! Surely you know the move just as much as the next billionaire floozy."
The grip Batman held on the Joker tightened as the words weighed heavy on Bruce's mind.
Was this a joke?
Course it is. Bruce internally chastised himself, reminding himself who he was ultimately dealing with.
It wasn't the first time the thought crossed his mind, the vigilante not being ignorant
.
"Whats the matter Brucie baby, don't like a taste of your own medicine? Come on lover boy, pucker up," his voice calling sweetly, as he batted long eye lashes through emerald eyes as he made mocking smooching noises.
The playboy's jaw gritted against perfect teeth as Bruce held his tongue.
"I will shove something else in your mouth if you don't shut the fuck up."
And it was out past recently red stained lips, Bruce instantly regretting the words as soon as they had left his mouth.
Joker was never one to back down to a challenge, and he'd make good on his word.
"Oh please do." And the arrogance is there, daring his enemy to back down.
Fucking smug ass.
Batman refused to lose to the Joker, moving his shaking hands to his belt with hidden anxiety as he decided not to bother wasting time.
Strong and silent. A man of action.
That's who Bruce was.
That's who Batman was.
He'd fucking show him, he'd put him in his place and then the Joker would finally know who really ran the show, who was really king.
It was all talk, Bruce knew it, but he would sell himself like he always did as he bit with nervous lips against his own flesh.
As shaking fingers worked to undue the claps on his Bat suit, hands pressed up, stopping Bruce in place.
"Backing down are you?" he grins, a sense of relief and success filling up inside him.
"Silly Batsy, I just thought I'd lend a hand.." and his eyes gleam as pale hands push Bruce's out of the way as he starts to nimbly undo the vigilantes belt.
He seemed so sure, so prepared as if he had done this before...
How many people have you been with?
He doesn't dare ask, biting back the singe of jealously boiling, instead remaining motionless as he watches with morbid curiosity as the long hands make quick work, sliding the bottoms of the vigilantes attire down.
Smooth white skin peak out, and the Joker licks his lips (nervously?) in anticipation.
And that's when Bruce remembers and his heart catches in his throat as the Joker's eyes grow wide in shock and then malicious amusement.
"WEL-L-L now..." and Bruce despises the way he pronounces the word, and hates himself even more for forgetting.
The usual tight black spandex he wore underneath his suit was missing, in it's place a bright form fitting purple pair of briefs hugged at his skin, demanding attention.
And attention grabbing they did, the Joker taking in his usual trade mark color that looked so good on his little bat.
"It was laundry day." Bruce hissed between thin lips. The comment only inflicting more of a rise as the Prince of Mischief cackled in laughter.
"Lucky me then," he murmurs gleefully as a broken nail trails along the thin fabric, sending shivers racking up and down Bruce's body as the clear outline of his hardening cock presses desperately against material; begging to be released.
There's no denying the want.
The playboy can't help but follow the clowns eyes as he takes all of the lower half of him in.
"Such a pretty color on you Batsy, I always knew you would look good wrapped up in one of my things" hands palm at the material as a lone finger dips undetected underneath, chasing the dark patch of hair that lead down past the waist band.
"I just didn't realize how truly fucking delectable you really where." And he's pressing a nail into the head of Bruce's cock, sharp nail digging into sensitive flesh as Bruce slips an uncontrollable moan of pain and arousal, trembling against the Jokers tender body.
"You like this..."
Elastic snaps and the underwear is ripped off, a thin strip of material falling and pooling at his ankles; soon forgotten.
"No.." Bruce whispers, closing his eyes as he tries to control his breathing, not willing to lose the game.
Fingers curl against the patch of hair underneath the vigilantes naval as the clown hums a murmur of approval in the back of his throat.
And he's staring, eyes studying and scanning before finally resting at the base of his cock.
Bruce refuses to look- he can't as an overwhelming amount of shame and arousal stir the steadily growing erection.
He can taste it- his own excitement, his own want as he waits with baited breath to see what the Prince of Mischief will do next.
"Now Brucie baby, Bat of my life, here's the rules of the game. I'm going to suck your pretty little cock." He's tsking, scowling his favorite play thing as he goes on,
"Not because I want to, but because your body is desperately begging me for it, and I just love fucking pathetic." Hes leaning in, voice hot on the back of the brunettes neck as anxiety comes crashing in on the vigilante.
"Infact, I promise you'll love every fucking minute."
Bruce whimpers, glancing down and noticing a sizeable bulge pressing firmly against his leg as he realizes the Joker himself is fully hard.
"Seems like I'm not the only desperate for something Joker," and his voice is smug, happy that his nemesis is an amorous mess as well.
The clown of mischief doesn't even bat an eye at the words much to Bruce's chagrin, instead he simply laughs, shaking his head as he giggles bright.
"Now,now,who said I wasn't enjoying this little show as well."
And Bruce wants to retaliate, to say something smart like, 'You were always one to be easily amused.' It wasn't anything ground breaking but paired with the billionaires trade mark smirk, he knew it would hit a cord with the easily angered clown.
Unfortunately for the brunette, the words never presented themselves as a warm breath ghosted against anticipated anxious skin.
Shit!
Bruce yelped, now noticing how close his nemesis was to his groin, the obvious and clear smell of arousal he's sure the clown can smell coming from his cock.
Bruce hate's that he thinks about such things.
He hates even more how excited his broken thoughts leave him.
It takes him a second to register just how close the Joker is before the man's already on the move, slipping down on brightly attired knees as the Price of Mischief wastes no time taking the vigilantes full length through brightly parted lips eagerly as if it were the last thing he'd ever do.
The billionaire hisses, the cold feel of saliva pressing against warm flesh as the Joker smiles a twisted grin to the best of his ability.
He makes swift work, bobbing his head eagerly as he moves quickly before suddenly stopping, an agonizingly long drawn out press of his mouth as a loud Pop! noise suctions, and the Joker looks with baited eyelashes, blinking slowly as he licks his lips.
Bruce wants to look away, he know he should for his dying sanity, but he cant resist the lure of seeing his nemesis on bended knees, stooped over as he looks up with such want.
Need.
Eyes lock and Bruce waits for the comment, something smug but it never shows.
Instead the clown makes a point to run his fingers slowly around the base of his cock, enjoying and mesmerizing every line, ever vein. Bruce shudders at the contact, and the clown purrs in response.
How long has he wanted this for?
It takes everything in the playboys capabilities not to tremble and rock his body into the touch, instead holding steadfast to the wall as fingers pale white with the pressure of keeping himself together.
He almost finds himself asking for more, when the clown swipes his thin tongue against the slit of Bruce's cock.
"f-Fuck!" he gasps, taken by surprise as his body jerks in arousal and the Joker chuckles quietly to himself but says nothing else as he continues to stare at the object of his obsession.
He laps up the pre cum that begins to bead and Bruce can feel his legs starting to tremble and threaten to give out on him; feeling a burning sense of shame and desire flare up in his belly as the Joker makes a point to pry the vigilante's thighs out further for him.
"Liking yourself are we Batsy?"
Bruce ignores the comment, but the Joker doesn't bother caring. He knows the answer.
They both do.
And he's back, mouth stretched thin over the glistened member as the billionaire watches in morbid fascination as his enemy takes all 7 inches in with ease.
Out of the corner of his eye he can see the Jokers other hand moving up, and Batman stiffens, preparing himself in case the maniac pulls out a weapon and decides to change up the playing field.
He doesn't however, just moved his hand to cup the vigilantes perfect ass, pushing the warm flesh in and closer as lips move back and forth, lightly tapping against the tight muscle on Bruce's chest as he takes that extra half an inch in that Bruce wasn't even aware of.
The warehouse is eerily quiet, and Batman can't help but wonder to himself if one of the Joker's lackeys will appear any moment; not that he'd be surprised, knowing the Joker always loved an audience.
But the silence stretches, save except for the wet sounds of his enemy rolling his tongue along his cock, and Bruce listens with quiet breath to the noises, enjoys every echo.
The vigilante known as Batman was always said to be a man of action with little words needed other then what was necessarily. So the Joker was more then happy to hear that he could make his play thing whine and moan quietly with each touch.
A noise that he was responsible for.
The Joker growled possessively, but didn't let up on the momentum, instead letting go of the perfect ass as he turned his attention into more pressing efforts.
A free hand moved, stroking the vigilante's ignored sack as he rubs hard, then soothes it over softly to ease the pain.
It's an odd feeling, but Bruce isn't complaining, body betraying him, as Bruce uncontrollably arches up into the touch. Begging silently for more, which the Joker is happy to oblige. Skilled fingers move, trailing down and in between shaking thighs as a digit runs along the trail leading to his ass and-
Oh god! Bruce is chasing after the sensation, not caring how desperate he must look, knowing only that he wants more, needs more.
Though his nemesis is the one on his knees, the playboy can't help but feel he's the vulnerable one, the one putting everything on the line.
Bruce is full out panting now, unable to keep the noises at bay as he tries to fight the overwhelming need of release that has steadily built up and pressing. He closes his eyes, clenching his fists as he tries to fight the inevitable that's sure to come.
He's so focused on trying not to orgasm that he almost misses the quiet voice that whispers up almost innocently.
"If you want me to let you cum, then you better look at me Batsy."
No!
He can't, he refuses as his body shakes in desperate ecstasy at being so close to orgasming.
"I...I.."
Fingers gently caresses, cupping the end of jaw as he forces Bruce to look at him for the first time since beginning.
And..
The Joker is smiling, a genuine smile, and,
"N-Ohh..." he's gasping as his body withers against the warm touch as his body spasms uncontrollably, the white milky substance coating the top off his cock as Bruce continues to tremble, chasing after the last of his orgasm.
He can't help but ride out of the intense feeling as hands curl into bright locks of green as he fists the Joker's hair firmly into his palms, pulling tight and recklessly.
The Joker hums in appreciation as he swallows down his playthings cum, his adams apple bobbing up and down as he makes a point to show that he's clearly enjoying himself.
Bruce shudders, trying to will his mind to catch up with his body as he steadies his palms against the brick wall behind him.
Saliva drips down from thinly pressed lips as the clown licks unconsciously, missing the corner of his mouth where residue of cum rests.
A lone finger swipes at the offending mark, before the Joker is standing, tall lanky form slightly towering over the half naked vigilante.
"Who knew a Bat could taste so good?" he cackles, moving his finger to wipe away any traces before he's moving closer to the billionaire that he has pinned.
"Wanna taste?"
"No." This time words firm, as the after math of his release had slowly lost it's haze.
Realization weighed heavy as he registered what he had done. Was doing?
Oh god.
"Oh." Smile leered, as he grinned menacingly into dark brown eyes.
"But I insist." and the fingers moving, squeezing against pink lips, and Bruce growls in disgust as he finds himself unable to resist, opening his mouth as he lets himself give in.
The taste was bitter, empty. But the Joker smiled and cooed in reassurance as if it was the best meal to ever be had.
As the Joker disturbingly nestled close into the playboys neck, an overwhelming amount of panic biles up as Bruce can't help but wonder, Now what? as insecurity begins to rear its ugly head; breaking through his calm exterior as he plots his next course of action.
Not surprisingly, the vigilante doesn't have long to think, for the Joker is already moving, playing the next piece to their disturbing game as he snaps his fingers to gain attention once more on him.
"Earth to Brucie, your not going to leave your girl hanging are you?"
Your girl...
Bruce feels sick, but stomachs the nausea bubbling and inching up his throat.
"I um.." for once, the vigilante unsure of what to say.
Not that it matters...
The Joker, never running out of words.
"Now Batsy, who the fuck said we were finished!?" The statement bold, as if the Prince of Mischief could read the vigilante's thoughts, his calamities.
Batman ignored the words, muttering to himself a string of, "No's." As he tried to make sense of what he had just allowed to happen.
He had exposed himself to the Joker, his worst nemesis, the murderous man that had killed numerous bodies, the man who had on more then 10 occasions, had tried to kill him.
Tried, but never done.
The task, remained uncompleted.
"Now, now Batsy, don't be a bad bat. You had your fun, and now don't you think it's my turn?"
He was greedy.
"No," he panted, face still flushed a rosy pink that the billionaire had long stopped caring about covering up or hiding.
Joker, clearly not caring, smiled only brighter, scars stretching thin against the curves of his mouth.
"Greedy, greedy,boy. Now Batsy, you don't want me to do something we both regret...do you?" And it was as if a light had flashed in front of Bruce's face as he realized what he had done, and was currently doing.
An unsteady emotion of vulnerable threatened to erupt, and Bruce bit it down, folding the back of his cape up and around himself to cover his exposed lower half.
Joker, noticed. Licking his lips in exhilaration at the mess of a man in front of him.
With my enemy...
The green eyed man, seeming to have the same thoughts.
He was grinning maliciously, fingers cocked and curled close to the side of his belt as his fingers twitched by the short blade that was stuffed in the side of his attire.
The Joker practically beamed, as if hoping the vigilante would disobey him.
"I have enough regrets for the both of us." His response is cold, hopefully off putting. Though he knows his Joker would never be turned away from a few sharp words.
Wait...MY Joker...
"By the time where done playing Batsy baby, your going to rue ever fucking existing," the green haired man hisses back, but there's no anger in his voice; instead something far more deadlier lies behind his eyes and Bruce refuses to acknowledge, turning his head.
That was just fine by the clown, already on another tangent as he got up with graceful ease, dusting the rich purple pants off before fixing his bow tie.
"I got you something, Brucie baby, wanna see? Tsk, what am I saying, course you do." He doesn't even wait for a response, doesn't care what the vigilante has to say as he sways his hips in a tantalizing form, forcing Bruce to watch with weary eyes as he can't help but appreciate how good he looks when his body moves. He struts confidently to the middle of the warehouse where Bruce had first laid eyes on him.
"Now why would you do that." Batman is back, full vigilante voice on high alert as he approaches the large crate he had noticed upon first entering the warehouse.
"What can I say, I'm such a stand up guy, I couldn't resist."
Bruce ignores him, knowing that was probably the best course of action as he circles the large crate, checking the sides for booby traps and satisfied upon his quick inspection.
Unfortunately the brunette still wasn't thinking clearly, in new territory with his nemesis as he opens the heavy frame with a loud crack!
Jagged razor blades gleam with rust as they press against the unsuspecting vigilante's tender fingers and Bruce yelps in surprise, almost dropping the lid again as he moved to stand back and inspect the damage.
He shocked that the blades managed to pierce threw his armor, before remembering he hadn't brought his heavy duty suit; cursing himself for the careless mistake.
A steady drip of blood glistens across rough hands as he catches eye of the torn flesh between his thumb and index finger.
"What a gift." He answers dryly, not turning as he wipes away the offending mark, angered that he had slipped up in front of his enemy.
Within seconds, before Bruce can register the quick sound of footsteps on heavy empty cement floors, the Joker presses his body in tight, close to the brunette as he side eyes the damage, cooing almost apologetically as he reaches for the hand.
Bruce bats the long slender fingers away aggressively but the clown is swifter, grabbing it and rubbing harshly against sensitive flesh. Bruce doesn't wince, he wouldn't dare in front of the other man.
"Awe my poor poor Batsy, did you get yourself a booboo? Here, let's take a look."
Bruce want's to pull away, to tell the Prince of Mischief to go fuck himself, but before words can pour from cracked lips the Joker has the hand front and center of his face, eyeing it like a delightful treat.
Warm lips press against the skin ever so gentle, causing the vigilante's skin to crawl as he fights back a disgusted growl over the sheer intimacy of it all. The soft caresses, the way the maniacs mouth parts ever so slightly as a tongue pokes out to lick at the cut.
The sensation stings, and Bruce closes his eyes, refusing to show any sign of pain, and as a result, gets lost in the feeling of the Joker's touch; unconsciously shifting closer for more.
Surprisingly the Joker says nothing, just continues to lap at the wound, the wet sounds stifling in the air as what feels like eternity. The temperature is cool around them and Bruce wearily realizes he's completely naked from the waist down still, a growing blush creeping up against his face.
The Joker finally let's go of the playboys hand and Bruce makes quick work on inspecting the damage, not daring to look at the other man but the Joker doesn't care, instead moving back towards the crate.
"All better now Brucie baby?"
Brucie...
That's right, he knows...
The name, still sending unwanted feelings of desire and panic crawling up the vigilantes spine.
He says nothing in turn and the Joker sighs heavily in annoyance rather then anger.
"Now don't be such a baby, or I'll give you something to really fucking cry about." And the menacing smile is back, as he beckons with his finger back to the offending box, the gift.
Bruce doesn't move this time, a silent unseen smile of pleasure crosses his face when he see's the taller man pout silently, before groaning, throwing his hands up in the air.
"Fiiiine, must I do everything for us Batsy. Honestly, how do you expect to make our relationship last if I'm the only one putting in effort." he scoffs, as if saying the simplest of sentences.
Our relationship... The words echo sullenly.
Bruce swallows the lump down in his throat as he presses his one hand against the other, trying to contain the wound.
Lost in a swirl of dark thoughts, he almost jumps in surprise when the Joker saddles back to the play boy, the biggest shit eating grin etched on his cheeks.
"Hold out your hands Brucie baby," he calls sing songily, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.
Not bating an eye, Bruce glares coldly, trademark, "No." pressed against the hard lines on his face as the clown pointedly ignores it, instead pulling the offending object from behind his back in a Ta-da! fashion.
It takes but a second for the 'gift' to register in the brunette's mind before disgust curls in his chest as he takes a step back, and away from his nemesis.
The collar gleams, a bright sickeningly rich colored purple, and Bruce doesn't have to ask to know that it was specially made for him, and him alone to wear.
His full name wasn't on there, hell not even his own initials.
Thank the fuck for something.
No it wasn't needed.
All that shone, contrasting with the dark violet, was a beaming emerald encrusted J.
The Joker.
An eyebrow raises, as lips form a tight line. Bruce is anything but impressed, trying his best to hide the horror that has settled in.
Instead he goes for casual, shooting him a pointed look that he hopes get's the clear message across.
"Really?"
It doesn't.
"Really really Batsy baby, THE REALEST!" and he's grinning, lips curved high as he bops the billionaire on the nose before turning sharply, the collar firmly in his grasp.
There's something to be said about the way the Prince of Mischief carries himself, the way his whole body reacts in excited glee over the enjoyment of something, wide eyes so innocent that the thought makes Bruce reel in conflicted want, and a sense of protect.
"Heel Batsy, heel," he barks, the sense of innocent virginity broken, as the laughter spreads widely. The billionaire doesn't miss the fact that the Joker calls to him like a dog to their master.
"Fuck you Joker," Bruce spats, feeling nausea spin through his head.
What had started off as a simple few...slips of judgement, had suddenly turned raw, too real.
The Joker wanted to own him, to really make him his.
Bruce had to nip this thing in the bud, before Batman became in danger.
Except the nemesis didn't get mad, in fact the complete opposite happened instead.
Joker threw back his head and laughed, and laughed and laughed. The sickening noise bouncing and rattling against skin.
Batman stiffened, refusing to listen to the sound he knew all to well; like the back of his hand.
Finally when he could take it no more,
"What's so fucking funny, Joker."
The response, so quick that the billionaire is sure the clown was waiting for the question.
"I forgot, Bats cant heel!"
The simplicity of the joke flying over the stoic vigilante as he blinks once, twice.
Simple.Ha. Don't make me laugh.
"Tsk tsk, Brucie Baby, now were are your manners. Don't you know it isn't polite to not laugh at someones joke, especially ..."
He growls predatory, pulling the vigilante closer to him, as lips press against cartilage of the ear.
"Especially when they get you such a pretty pretty gift made just for them.Wouldn't you say?"
How long has he had this for?
But he doesn't ask, he's not foolish after all.
"Now let's play a game."
A game?
Bruce's head churned, he couldn't take a game.
"I don't-"
The Joker cut in, rudely, "Tell me, how long do you think I have known..."
The statement puzzled the vigilante as he tried to conclude what the other man meant, noting how vague the question seemed.
He knew he didn't have to give in, he didn't have to play. He could just say no and walk away..
Yet..
"Know what?"
His nemesis doesn't even pause a breath.
"Who you really are..."
"Bruce.."
and the words,a careless whisper, such softness never spoken so sweet to the billionaire. The unfamiliar sound makes Bruce gag on his own spit, trembling with fear over the need to hear the voice over and over again.
"Enough!" he chokes out, not daring to trust the tremble in his voice as he hopes to god he doesn't hear the answer; doesn't learn the truth.
Joker of course, ignores him, fiddling with the collar in his hand, as he caresses the J, stroking lovingly as he stares intensely into Bruce's eyes, refusing to look away.
"Since the first day we met, Batsy."
"You remember that day...don't you?"
The first day...
A flash of smoke and it's bellowing uncontrollably, curling up around an unfamiliar shadow that creeps threw the night ever so silently.
The color green splashes against crimson red as...
"Yes..." He finds himself choking out weakly, startled by his own vocals that betray him.
The memories...
they come crashing in and Bruce for once, he doesn't fight it.
The Joker's smile curls up in the corners of his mouth, and he smirks knowingly.
He's won for the second time tonight, and they both know it.
**
"J-Joker what the hell is that." Bruce despises himself for how weak he sounds, so raw and vulnerable yet he can't stop his eyes from growing wide or the way his body tightens firmly against the wall as if to shield away the last sense of decency the vigilante pretends to still posses.
The maniac knows it's showtime as he watches his plaything stir nervously underneath him. He must be quick as not to bore his bat, even if they both know that such emotion is impossible for either of them.
But the Joker is cunning and more than aware that if he plays his cards right he can get what he wants, like he always does.
He can get his Bat to say what he wants him to say and do whatever the fuck he wants with one snap of his lean fingers. It's because of these short comings, that Bruce finds himself once more backed against the wall with the Joker eyeing him hungrily.
"Yes Brucie Baby?" and hes batting his eyelashes, displaying the most innocent of smiles.
"Why are you in the possession of such a thing?" and he says it so casual as if speaking about a weapon, and not the hard purple plastic object that the clown is fondly running through his fingers.
"For special occasions I suppose..." he purs, voice fond with a biting remark as he bops Bruce on the nose with the end of the firm dildo.
"Jesus your unbelievable, special occasions like what?? WAIT-God is it fucking used?" Not putting it past the maniac to do such a thing and likely not clean it, noting the clown was not the most in the department of hygiene, minus the always perfectly tailored suits he wore.
The crisp purple with green cuffs and coat tails sparkle brightly against his matching eyes and Bruce suddenly feels more exposed then ever as realization dawns that his nemesis is still fully clothed.
"Once or twice Batsy..." and hes circling, eyes never leaving his prey as the billionaire watches with weary eyes.
The Joker has known his nemesis for so long, his ticks, what goes said silently, and all the times the vigilante holds back.
These are one of those times, the manic quick to pick up on the tell tale signs of Batman hiding something.
The flex in his jaw, the tightening of the eyebrows, the firmness of his back..
The green eyed man's words left his Batman bothered and the near notion has the man feeling positively tickled pink.
He could leave him seething in jealously, an easy power play, but where was the fun in that? The Joker wanted to have his fun in showing his Batsy who was the true king of the game the two played.
"My my my Batsy, who could think envy would look so good on that handsome face of yours," he coos, lightly pressing his palm against the vigilante's right ear.
"Fuck you." he spats, refusing to deny or agree.
The Joker doesn't care, he doesn't need the confirmation from his play thing...yet.
His killer instincts are quick, hes behind Batman in a second, tall lanky body pressed firmly against the rippling muscle he can feel through the thin material.
He wraps his left arm around the firm waist of his enemy, reveling in the feel of pure muscle spread for him and him alone, to touch.
His other hand roughly curls around the vigilantes throat, a small double sided paring knife directed at Bruce's throat.
The tatic isn't to scare the other man, he knows neither him nor Batsy would take the actual plunge what with the vigilantes jugular being so close. The action is simply done to entice a response, a heated fight or flight mode, as Bruce watches the manic with careful eyes.
"Now Batsy darling, what kind of woman do you take me for? Fuck you?? And on the first date none the less, tsk tsk. For shame you naughty Bat."
Bruce squirms under the heavy hand on him, fighting against the pressure, but making sure the Joker is aware that he's listening.
I'm always listening.
"That's a third date kind of deal if you want touch those goods..but you...."
Hands slither in front as the Joker angrily rips at the front of Batman's suit, tearing a strap from the material.
"You probably put out the first night don't you Brucie. The perks of being a billionaire I suppose."
Bruce doesn't respond, he knows the clown isn't waiting for an actual answer nor does the vigilante really want to give one.
The silence works well for both of them until...
Hands press firmly against the vigilantes hips as he aggressively rips at the Bat suit, ripping the strong material in tattered shreds as they flake and dip down to the ground around their feet.
Bruce shivers, now fully naked minus the few spots of material that cling to a well framed chest of pure muscular mass.
The dampness of his own orgasm from earlier chills him to the bone as he refuses to look down at the sight he must surely be.
Cum still drips from the still semi hard cock, as the clown dips his fingers along Bruce's collar bone, fingers dancing before moving, resting underneath his cock.
The Prince of Mischief had forced Bruce to wear the collar he had custom made for him, though in reality, the playboy hadn't fought the issue much, giving in when a chaste kissed was placed upon his exposed chin; body turning to putty despite his disgust as he found himself giving in to whatever the Joker asked of him with no question.
The mere thought of the manic has Bruce twitching in response, biting back a moan as the vigilante can feel the blood begin to drip from his bottom lip.
As the Joker works the rest of the billionaires mostly destroyed suit off, the clown can't help but pause, feeling the tight material that had once hugged at the sculpted frame of Bruce's ass.
The last to come off fully is the cowl, somehow the most significant out all the other clothing, despite Joker already knowing who Batman really was.
Bruce Wayne.
The man the Joker was finally seeing for the first time eye on eye.
There's a pause, one that seems to fill the air for months instead of minutes, and for a life time neither man says anything.
Bruce waits, knowing the Joker will say something- anything to cause a rize out of him.
As the seconds start to drag, the billionaire internally pales, wondering if his nemesis no longer has interest in him anymore now that he has the confirmation he probably desperately seeked.
Would he be done with Bruce now?
The vigilante hated that it worried him that the answer could be yes; begging for anything but.
He surprises them both, when he instead simply stares intensely. Deep eyes look back as they blink free of the mask for the first time.
Slender fingers curl and wrap gently around the semi scruffy jaw and for a moment the brunette winches, expecting the clowns next trick.
He fights back a startled noise when he realizes the clown- his nemesis- is petting him, caressing the rough skin ever so gentle as if holding breakable glass.
The emerald eyes sparkle with excitement, and the Joker's lip twitches, as if almost begging to say something but scared of what might happen in doing so. So he remains silent- eyes betraying the words he can't seem to place as he continues to gaze into the vigilantes face with the most disturbing look of...
Love.
Bruce's mouth runs dry, unsure of what to say.
L...love??
"Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall...Humpty Dumpty had a great fall..."
Or maybe just insanity... The playboy blinks, unable to make sense of the spiraling train of thought the Joker seems to be on, but silently happy for the distraction.
"All the king's horses and all the king's men..." he pauses, eyes shining bright as he leans in, teasing the dildo against the side of his now exposed face.
He waits, as if expecting something and..
Oh.
"Couldn't put Humpty Dumpty together again." Bruce finishes flatly, no longer questioning why he goes along with half the shit that he does; understanding that he just does and he needs to just accept it.
"You know why they couldn't put him back together again, don't you Brucie baby?"
The playboy doesn't hesitate, response immediate as he says calmly," Because he's an egg."
Somehow the 'joke' has the clown reeling in a fit of laughter, clutching his side as one arm still clings around the too exposed vigilante.
"My Bat, my bat, my little Humpty Dumpty Bat, always so literal." He leers forward, scowl on his face as he presses his lips to the vigilante's ear as if about to tell the worlds greatest secret.
"They couldn't put him back together because they called the wrong people for the job. only the Jester can put the poor little Humpty Bat back to pieces.."
"Don't you mean back together again?"
The clown laughs, tsking a naughty boy as he grins ear to ear.
"Now where's the fun in that, Brucie Baby?"
It suddenly clicks, the words he's implying and Bruce feels his face flush hot suddenly, choosing not to respond.
"I'll make you addicted to be Bruce." The words pour out suddenly, catching the playboy by surprise as he sucks in a breath.
I already am... the thought doesn't even disturb him, he's known it to be true since Batman and Joker first danced in fight the very first night.
Suddenly the game shifts and turn again and Joker wraps both arms under each of Bruce's arm pit and violently turns him, shoving him firmly and painfully into the wall as he feels the cold unforgiving purple cock press against the side of the inside of his thigh.
"Ready to be broken darling?"
Bruce tenses, knowing what's about to happen as he tries to steady his breathing, his cold naked body shaking and giving away his facade.
Oh god Is he at least going to use lube??
He won't ask, his pride keeps the words remained shut in his head.
"You want me to use something?" his voice a sickly sweet sound, an over excited tone as if he had heard the billionaires thoughts.
When he doesn't respond, the Joker presses further.
"Course you do, don't you Brucie. I bet those hollywood whorelets get you good and properly ready before they fool around with your pretty ass, don't they." and there's challenge, defiance and anger as he raises a hand, slapping it heavily down against one bare cheek.
Bruce flinches, biting back the whimper that bubbles up.
"No I- I never..." he calls out in omition, voice crumbling and broken as he catches himself last minute in horror at his words.
As the Joker looks up from lust filled eyes, Bruce can't help but look away, swallowing darkly as his brain finally starts to catch up with the rest of him.
What the fuck am I doing right now??
"Say it."
No. I can't.
The vigilante doesn't even shake his head, just stares firmly in front of him.
"Brucie Baby, just fucking say it," the sound of an animalistic growl escapes past stain tainted lips as the manic hisses in frustration.
"Nothing to fucking say," he manages to growl back and internally pats himself on the back.
When did I become such a submissive bitch? He doesn't bother trying to answer, he doesn't want to know.
"Ooh is it story time then Batsy Babe. Or are we going to play a riveting game of Never Have I..."
"No. No games." He's tired, body stiff and cold, exhaustion slowly starting to set in his bones.
"Then be honest." the words whispered, so raw, and real that Bruce's answer slips from his mouth before he can stop himself.
"I...I never been touched....there..." the last part he whispered, body slumping in on himself in a wave of defeat and shame.
"What do you mean..." Eyebrows furrowed in a growl of frustration before realization dawned.
"Oh...OH!" Emerald eyes lighting up in recognition as he cheekily reaches around, curling his pale fingers underneath Bruce's tight buttox as he squeezes a handful before pulling his vigilante closer.
Bruce lets out an undignified squeak as he feels the ground give out from underneath him as he's lifted up by his ass and splayed against the wall.
"You ever use toys on yourself." Voice a startling serious tone, as Bruce blinks to register the question asked.
"Put me down Joker," he growls back, not liking the overwhelming sense of power his nemesis must be feeling towards him.
I can't let him think like that, it's dangerous and this...
This is fucked.
"Bruuuuucieee, answer the question," and hes leaned in so close, the billionaire can taste the rancid breath against his cheek, can feel the warmth.
The smell doesn't bother the vigilante, he's grown accustomed.
The steady appearance of the wet tongue against skin is new, and Bruce has to fight back another whimper between pursed lips as the sensation creeps into his skin; thighs shivering in an uncontrollable wave of want from the press of tongue.
"If you play by my rules you know I always reward..." hes pausing mid lick, letting the dampness start to set on the vigilante before he inches his head back, gazing into the dark eyes of his Batsy.
After a long moment, Bruce finally responds, head tilted down as his body remains still suspended in the air. "No.."
The vigilante watches in amazement as the Joker releases one hand off him, occupying his now free limb with digging in his ear as he brushes unseen ear wax off and onto the billionaires shoulder blade. He doesn't grunt, doesn't protest even slightly, just continues to hold the muscular vigilante up with only one arm currently.
The Joker is lanky; skinny, but Batman learned a long time ago to never underestimate his enemy.
"I'm sorry Brucie, didn't quite hear you, think my ears were blocked. What did you say darling?"
Batman growls, biting his lip as he fights back the anger and shame that have begun to spread across his face.
" I said no, now let me fucking go Joker or you'll pay."
At this, the wild man laughs, running his hand through his acid green spiky hair as his eyes shine with mischief.
"No WHAT Batsy." he menacingly calls.
"I...I haven't used those...
Breathe Bruce. Breathe.
"...Things."
There's a beat of silence, and the clown neither responses nor lets the other man go.
"I thought you said you'd let me go, Joker."
"Surprise! I lied Batsy!" He coos laughing, eyes never leaving the other man's face that's cocked to the side against the wall.
"So my sweet darling, is that what you want from little ol'me? To show you how that feels?" And he doesn't say it, doesn't show it, but he knows the Joker has a hidden message in his words, a unspoken question.
No. I want...
He can't say it, he won't. Bruce was still Batman, and his ego never changed.
The maniac took it as a sign to proceed, pressing his finger against the backside of his ass, as he held onto the toy with the other, moving closer.
Bruce caught the arm quickly, holding it away from his body as the offending object glistened against the cream texture of the Joker's skin.
"I don't want that," he growled, nodding his head at the piece.
"No? Why Batsy dearest I thought you of all people would play ball in the kinky team.
"Unless..." and the delighted smirk is back, lipstick stretching wide with glee.
"There's no unless anything. I'm sick of your games Joker."
The all too common phrase seemed to snap the maniac to attention, eyes clouding over with sudden uncontrollable anger.
"ENOUGH! So you've said. But were a little past that aren't we now Bruce.," he yelled, throwing the offending object away.
"Are we?" the billionaire shot back heatedly.
Sighing, Joker relaxed slightly, fingers slipping out to tap absent mindedly to his forehead as he concentrated for but a moment, eyes closed in thought. A mere second later, and he opened, eyes large with decision.
"What do you want Batsy? What does big old Bruce Wayne want?"
Don't play along, I can still redeem myself. He knows it's a lie. He lost the chance of that long before when the Joker was sucking his cock on the cold hard floor.
His dick twitches at the memory and he twists away, happy when the manic finally puts him down, though he still remains close; crowding his space.
"Do you want me?" this time hes directly in front of the vigilante, eyes wide and searching.
Bruce growled in response, the tone quiet and needy and the Joker knew what unspoken words were uttered as he leaned down and quickly took the vigilante in his mouth.
Hot breath ghosting against his cheek as soft lipstick lips hungrily engulf his own. He doesn't bother trying to fight it- he doesn't want to as he opens his mouth willingly this time and allows his Joker to ravish his mouth and throat.
He knew it was sick, but he couldn't help himself from feeling the way he was. It scared him to think of what would happen next, but soon losing focusing to the present and the little butterfly kisses the Prince of Mischief was currently peppering all up and down the playboys throat.
Satisfied when the beginning signs of a dark purple hickey began to blossom directly underneath his jugular, Joker released his play thing, eyeing him slowly up and down with content.
"My...Myy...you are quite the sight for sore eyes baby," and the familiar heat coils in the billionaires belly as he watches the other man closely."
There's a question on the tip of his tongue that he's dying to ask, but finds his embarrassment proceeds to get in the way. Instead he states, "I suppose one of us could say that..." and he's moving his deep chestnut brown eyes slowly down as he takes in the rich colors of the suit that the Joker is still wearing, fully clothed.
Bruce is completely naked while the Prince of Mischief hasn't taken off one single thing.
Bruce fucking hates that.
"Mm Brucie baby, my eyes are up here," the Joker giggles, moving a finger to cup the chizzled jaw line of his favorite man closer to him.
"So are mine..." he mutters back almost sullenly when he catches the flick of interest to his now hardened cock again.
"Second date Brucie Baby..." he whispers with the flick of his tongue, and the playboy doesn't bother worrying about the implications, too desperate to be touched again.
The Joker, notices. Chuckling darkly as he drinks up the sight.
"Now Brucie Baby, my bat in shimmering armor, my thorn in my side. I'm going to take you now.
And I'm not going to be slow about it, and you can bet your winged ass that I'm not going to prepare you because were would the fun be in that? Besides my Batsy deserves the best." And hes laughing now, unable to keep the noise from bubbling past lips as scars stretch thin.
"I'm going to make you fucking feel everything Bruce. I want you to remember this day for the rest of your fucking life. Everytime you close your eyes, everytime you bed another person. You will never be satisfied by anything but the way that I take care of you."
A low noise of arousal filters low and deep in the billionaires throat as eyes fill heavy with lust at the words.
He's terrified- but in this moment there's nothing else Bruce could want more; and they both knew it.
"Your body will beg for me till the day that you die, and you are fucking mine."
He says nothing, just nods like an idiot, but the clown doesn't care. Just happily purs as he runs jagged nails through Bruce's hair for the first time. Enjoying the way the dark chestnut locks look pressed against his pale digits.
He doesn't know what to expect, just knows that it's going to hurt as his body tenses up at the friction of the brick digging into his chest.
Long fingers move up, raking against his body, feeling the way his neck dips into his shoulder and how his nipple sits erect and overly sensitive to the cold air.
"Don't you understand that Batsy? You are nothing without me, NOTHING."
He bites down hard, perfect teeth staining red with the mark of blood that comes from Bruce's shoulder blade.
The billionaire falters, gasping in pain, before a wet tongue is replaced, licking at the wounds.
The vigilante says nothing, afraid of what noises he might reveal.
He can feel the Jokers long slender fingers working their way down slowly, moving along to grip the curve of Bruce's ass.
This time the billionaire does slip, a groan escaping past sealed lips as he realizes all too late his mistake.
It's like an ON/OFF switch had just been flipped as if Joker received the confirmation he had been waiting for all along.
There's another level to the game and Bruce has just unlocked the bonus round.
His hands are splayed on either side of his ass cheek,
Positioned, he looks with a frown, pondering only for a moment before a wicked grin crosses his face.
Batman knows that face all too well and it only meant one thing, and one thing ever.
Trouble.
"You know what would make this even better my sweet Bat," and hes singing, voice high and innocent." It drives Bruce fucking wild.
"Fun house mirrors!" and hes laughing wickedly, standing up as he aggressively pulls at the vigilantes hair, forcing attention.
Bruce yelped, scrambling to his feet as he can't help but feel the slow steady form of anger begin to build.
"Here baby, get a load of this," he pushes Bruce forward, the billionaire a mere inches from kissing the ground before nimble hands move swift, curling around the collar and yanking him suddenly back into the maniacs arms.
It's only a phrase. A simple sentence.
"Get on your fucking knees..baby."
Yet it sends Batman and Bruce, spiraling into the weakest they ever felt as he feels his trembling body betray him, getting down and into position.
Much to his horror, a tall full wall standing mirror perches in front, displaying everything and anything that Bruce felt in this moment.
"Whaca think baby, aren't we just the prettiest picture you've ever see?" And he's holding Bruce in his lap, long legs sprawled wide as the vigilante lays completely naked in between, exposed and vulnerable.
"...Maybe.."
And the Joker pauses, eyes looking thoughtful and...sweet.. before grinning into a full real smile.
"Always so cocky Batsy..."
His lips brush against Bruce's ear, kissing softly before whispering, "That's what I fucking love about you."
The playboy doesn't even have time to choke on his response before his nemesis is on the move, positioning with ease as wide legs open and the clown is fishing his cock threw the hole in his trouser front. In a blink of an eye Bruce's head is riveting- bouncing off the walls as he's forced to sit down ontop of the Joker's thick cock aggressively. No preparation, no warning. Just electrifying and tearing pain.
"My darling Batsy, will you just look at us." and he's growling possessively, lifting the vigilante up as if he were nothing only to slam him back down, burrowing his cock deeper each time.
A strangled scream splits the air, as Bruce's eyes roll to the back of his head in a pure pained bliss of hot ecstasy.
"I SAID FUCKING LOOK AT US!" and his anger snaps Bruce from his trance, panting heavy as he desperately clings at trying to brace himself against the intruding feeling of Joker's thick long cock. Nails claw at nothing, coming up at empty air as he finds himself unable to brace himself; the whine of no control in the back of his throat.
Much to his disgust, Bruce gives in, though only somewhat.
He didn't have to look ... he didn't have to show anything...
The Joker wrapped his fingers more firmly around Bruce's muscular hip bone, pounding even harder into the raw flesh.
Why show when you can feel.
"My my Brucie, your quite the pretty little picture aren't you?" and he's holding the vigilante's jaw in his long digits, a possessive grip as fingers tease lightly at the playboys own neglected cock.
"Do you want me to Batsy baby, all you have to do is ask?"
The vigilante's cock jerks in arousal at this.
Never.
Instead, a voice, shaky with uncertainty responses.
"I..I-"
"You probably want me to satisfy you first, like all those slutty girls you bring back home do to you, don't they, Mr. Wayne."
And
Holy fuck!
That does something- sending bolts of a wave of pleasuring shooting through his veins as he jerks up at the call of his title...
My name..
My fucking name!
And he's whining, a desperate growl; knowing what he wants but refusing to ask. Begging and turning away as he can't help but want his hot lips against his skin; while punching him square in the jaw in the next.
As his enemy hovers over him, diping and moving down and overtop of Batman,
He knows he could over power the Joker if he needed to, easily.
But that's just it...
Bruce doesn't want that.
He doesn't think he ever could.
"But I'm not one of your good girls am I Brucie?"
"No, I'm that at all. I've been a naughty, naughty boy."
"And what, let me guess you want me to punish you?" The billionaire fains disinterest, taunting his nemesis that he knows all too well as someone that could easily be riled up.
He was right, The Joker growling in a menacing snarl.
"Infact...." he leans closer.
"Want to see how naughty I can really get?" and he's not asking, and both men are aware, dancing around their final performance.
It happens in a second, a heated look exchanged between both men, eyes gleaming with a mix of emotion as both seemingly daring the other to back out.
Neither did, Joke wrapping his thin but defined arms around the top half of the vigilante, pulling him roughly forward then sprawling him forward- hard.
Head gently snaps against the cold floor, and he lets out a groan of pain.
White light blinds and flashes against the vigilantes eyes as he tries to regain his bearings.
"You love the way I treat you Batsy, admit it. You fucking get off on it. Your where always one for playing my silly little games weren't you?"
"We play by my rules," the billionaire hissed, doing his best to assert his dominance, though failing miserably through the moans as his muscular thighs betray every word; shaking in pleasure.
The Joker would have none of that.
"Silly Bat, there was never any rules."
Bright lips press against sweat soaked skin, as The Joker greedily consumes the vigilante's mouth. With a wicked smile, the maniac pressed further, tongue slowly running along the edge of the billionaires before he captured more than just lips- saliva glistening as the maniac's tongue pressed into Bruce's own.
The next moments are a blur- like a dream Bruce feels caught in. Not apart of, but almost watching; like a spectator.
They're kissing- fast and sloppy; desperately needy. And then the next moment is setting and the Joker's snuggling his head in the back of the vigilante's neck, gentle kisses pressed softly against skin; a feeling of cool to the touch.
The sensation leaves the billionaire feeling breathless, eyes closed in blissful ecstasy before it's the next scene and the Joker is changing up the game again.
Soft kisses to the temple are quickly replaced with nails against skin.
The Joker giggling quietly to himself as he very aggressively imprinted his name into the muscular fibers of the vigilantes back.
"Jo-" the billionaires warning voice cuts out, gasping and desperately bracing his body as he noticed the Joker has pulled out completely and was now teasing his hardened cock against the tender rim of his ass.
Holy fuck, holy fuck! What do i do??
He doesn't ask if he's okay, nor if he's ready for their final scene. The Prince of Mischief just knows, and he knows his Batsy all too well as he tightens his hold around his waist and pushes him into his own body, flesh upon flesh.
Bruce's body has been unprepared, unpreped as the area screams in protest with the sudden and constant jolt of each small thrust as the clown aggressively pushes his way in once more, taking whatever and leaving no room for anything more.
The vigilante does his best not to scream out, unaware of the constant murmurs of broken language as the billionaire babbles on in nonsense.
It hurts...
It hurts so fucking much, but he doesn't want it to fucking stop, he can't.
And he's pressing more, and Bruce is taking it like he's supposed to. He can tell his enemy is pleased, the pure desire etched on his face.
He want's to please Joker so fucking much. The desire to satisfy out weighing the actual pain of being stretched to the max.
"My Batsy, my Batsy," he's singing, voice on edge, wild.
And Bruce knows.
He knows he should be worried.
He knows the way the Joker gets, knows how clearly dangerous the green eyed man was.
But he was holding him so tight, so close, and Bruce couldn't help but find himself getting lost to the utter darkness of ecstasy.
He deserved this.
The Joker was his psycho.
"Will you cum for me again my little Bat?"
And Bruce doesn't even bother pretending to protect his ego, simply nodding in desperate agreement as if it was the best idea the Joker ever had.
It IS the best idea he ever had.
The maniac reaches forward, titling the the vigilantes head slightly to the side so the other man could see him from the new angle.
"Then you know what you have to do, don't you Batsy dearest?"
"Y...yes..."
"Say it."
The billionaire flushes with embarrassment, half appalled at the sorry sight he must be with the Joker pounding hard and fast into him; body thrusting erratically to an unknown beat.
"Fuck you."
The Joker scrunches his nose up, before breaking into an easy smooth laugh.
"That's my Batsy."
"Although...if you want to play it that way, then maybe I finally found the ultimate punishment for you after all."
Bruce squirmed uneasy, feeling the heated look he was receiving. He didn't like the coy tone in the clowns voice.
"Maybe I'll just tie you up for days- maybe even weeks. Come down EVERY morning and EVERY night to play..." he lovingly caresses the softness of the billionaires sack, squeezing tenderly as fingers played along the base of the vigilantes cock before taking it in hand with a few lazily slow strokes. Bruce gasps into the touch, whining as he pushes back, chasing after the feeling of the hand. The action is desperate and quick and the vigilante doesn't realize that in doing so he thrusts steely into The Joker's long cock- pushing the clown in deeper.
The billionaire screams, hands spiraled on either side of himself as he tries to gain his bearings.
He loves the way Joker fucks his cock, the way he pulls back slowly, almost out before slamming back into him, hitting the sweet spot that makes Bruce beg incoherent words.
He was addicted, chasing after the pleasure as he lets the feeling of his enemy surround him.
His taste. His touch. His smell.
"But maybe I won't ever finish...playing.. with you. Maybe I'll leave you all pathetic like this."
Eyes growing wide at the realization of the Joker words, it took everything in Bruce's power not to shout out, no! Not to beg in sheer maniac.
"I....I need to le...let you cum in...inside me first and let you fill me completely."
Oh god what am I saying... who have I become??
who the fuck am I?
"Brucie, Brucie, Brucie. That's my good boy. Now was that so hard?"
"Well I mean I AM pretty hard..." he laughs at his own joke as he lazily continues to fuck into Bruce, eyes locked on the mirror as his eyes trail over the image of the two of them.
He growls angrily when he notices his bat is panting heavy with eyes closed. No that simply wouldn't do for the Joker.
Reaching up, he grabs a lock of hair pulling tightly, as he smiles to himself at the reaction it enlists.
Eyes wide-startled, as pupils lock on the mirror before quickly looking away in embarrassment.
"DONT. I want you to see this, look at how nice you look splayed beneath me. It's were you always belonged."
The mirror is beckoning as Bruce looks in horror fascination of himself in the reflection.
The way the Joker had him pressed, one hand wrapped firmly into the dark waves of his hair
The two men made quite the pair and Bruce had to admit he couldn't tear his eyes away from watching as his enemy continued to pound into him hard, noticing his body was littered in bruises.
His breath was ragged, the consistent movement starting to take its toll as Bruce's legs trembled in pleasure.
He was liking the way the two of them looked too much, body beginning to warn him of the tale tie signs of an on coming orgasm.
He realized that the clown had began to play with him again, moving at a steadier pace as fingers pressed against the hardened member.
"What a pretty pretty face. I can't wait for my cum to be on your lips.
"
Moving at a sickeningly slow pace, the maniac pulled his semi- softening cock out, the color of pre cum dripping down at the tip.
Humming thoughtfully he wiped at an edge before placing it to Bruce's lips, commanding.
Joker's cock is...
Fucking perfect.
He growls internally, the rush of sexual desire coating his throat. For just a second he blinks threw haze filled eyes, noting with jealous that the clown had kept all his clothes on, while Bruce is completely naked and exposed.
He will have to make him pay next time.
Next time??
He gasps, jerking his head as realization sets, yet still not fully processing as the Prince of Mischief is capturing his attention once more; pushing more aggressively, forcefully for the Bat to obey.
The billionaire parted his lips as he poked his tongue out, lapping up cautiously as the Joker watched in morbid fascination.
He waited for the sharp taste to touch his tongue, the tell tale signs of spent seed, but it never did arise; mouth tasting nothing but the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted as he takes it all, not leaving a single drop of cum from the Joker's cock as he empties himself completely in the waiting brunette's mouth.
"Good Batsy," the Joker whispers cooingly in Bruce's right ear. As he gently runs slender hands up and down the naked man in encouragement; Bruce cries out in climax, trembling muscular thighs shaking against the arms of his clown.
And Bruce feels....
He doesn't know how he feels, truthfully. In all honesty, his mind still warps in mists of the Joker's taste and the way he made him feel.
He would think of this particular interaction with his nemesis, for the rest of his sleepless nights.
He was sure the Joker would as well, in his own morbid way.
After all it showed, the way he continued to hold onto his Bruce, skin bare and curled; between the Joker's long spread legs. Heavy breaths filled the air as both men rid the last chases of their orgasm together.
He blinks once. Twice. Then common sense clicks in and his eyes widen before he's tipping his head back, his trademark laugh beginning to fester and bubble up through a dark voice until it's all you ever hear.
"Hey Batsy."
"What?"
"I win."
And he was right. His nemesis the Joker had broken threw his barrier and taken from Batman what he wanted.
He was right, the Joker had won.
But so had Bruce.
"I let you win."
And he looks thoughtfully for a moment, eyebrow cocked before he burst into another fit of uncontrollable giggles.
He can't help but watch his nemesis as he slips so fluently in heightened bliss, feeling high in the after glow. For a brief moment in time the pictured mirror is completely perfect.
But all good things come to an end as time continues to pass and Bruce can't help but feel the unsettling dread that's begun to pit in the insides of his stomach.
It's the same feeling's he had all those months ago when the Joker left him to stew in their last interaction. It was the emotion of,
Oh god, what do I say now?
As if by prayer, the sound of cop car sirens wail off in the distance and a familiar voice calls out so suddenly, as if she was waiting, "Mistah J, we got a lil situation with the...you know...
Both men jerk at the voice as even the Joker has the decency to look at least startled.
"Wait!" Joker called out, nervous energy as he looked out frantically; clearly not wanting to be seen in such a compromising situation.
Bruce would of found it almost humorous yet he remained, still dazed from everything, needing a few seconds longer as he blinked slowly to catch up.
When he finally opened his eyes he caught with startled reflexes, the object the clown threw at him.
My cowl?
"Mistah J we can't wait-"
"I mean wait there you bloody idiot!"
Bruce Wayne scrambles to get his mask back on, moving quickly to cover up as he desperately grabs for his cape praying it wasn't torn.
It wasn't- thankfully, and embarrassingly, the billionaire wraps it around as if it were just another regular activity he partook in every Wednesday.
So focused on not getting caught or having his identity in even more jeopardy, he almost forgets his nemesis who stands with silent eyes, watching the scene with an unreadable glint to his eyes.
It takes him a moment but he finally speaks, almost startling the other man if not for his bat-like senses.
"I have a tape you know..." his voice so careless, so casual, but his eyes hinted a warning.
Surprisingly, Bruce didn't feel threatened, simply cocked his head as he looked at his nemesis that was just as easily wrecked looking as himself.
But still fucking clothed... he thought bitterly.
He chooses to live up to his legacy, a strong silent type as the Joker scowls at the undesired reaction.
"I mean it....Bruce. One fucking word to Harley and a live video of our little....fun and games, goes live. I bet it'll only take a few people to put two and two together to also realize your true identity is Batman."
He fucked up.
Bruce laughs, for the first time in a long time, a genuine laugh as his eyes sparkle and light up.
"Really, one call to Harley? And here I thought she'd be jealous of me having little old you all to myself."
Joker growls darkly, making the vigilante laugh more as his nemesis realizes his mistake as well.
There was no way in hell Harley would sit back quietly while 'her' Mister J slept with the enemy.
Bruce knew this, and so did the Joker.
It didn't stop the green eyed man from continuing to lie threw his teeth, a trait that came natural to maniac.
It was a horrible habit to have, but despite himself, Bruce couldn't help but find it...enduring.
Batman hated Joker....
But Bruce...
Bruce was allowed to want whoever...
and what he wanted was clear.
He wanted the Joker.
He always did.
"So I actually took the video instead of her, what of it?" he calls menacingly, breaking the billionaires train of thought.
"Scared of your.... mistress are you?" he calls smoothly, voice the perfect pitch.
The Joker growled a low warning sound and Bruce shook his head, enjoying the power trip.
"Alright I'll humor you this one time. What do I have to do to prevent you from releasing said tape? Beat the shit out of you? Because I'm more then happy to-"
"Now Batsy baby, save it for our third date, wontcha?" And the trademark grin was back, Bruce aching at seeing it again as he realized he had missed it.
Smile or not, Bruce heard the implication behind his words...the hint...
"A third date.. ha.."
"Don't say that little old me is going to have to cause some mischief and mayhem just to get my Bats attention, do I?" he says it with a coy smile, meant to be taken as a joke but the words are too cold, too angry, and both men know it.
But rather choosing to dance around the issue per usual,
For once the Joker remains uncharacteristically quiet and Bruce decides he doesn't like it that one little bit.
I could leave.... chalk this up to temporarily insanity. Nobody would be surprised, not even Alfred.
He'd like to say that he almost turned and left right there and then; finally wining the game between both men. The dance of the Bat and the Jester.
But he looks at the twisted smile of a flashing row of sharp white teeth, the way deep emerald eyes roll like the Zealand green. And he knows... he couldn't say no.
He doesn't bother to take a moment to try and comprehend how terrifying those thoughts could mean. Instead, he pauses, then deciding firmly, turns, making a point to catch his enemies eye.
"What's Batman's favorite part of a joke?"
The Joker startles, expecting the other man to leave without a word. He can't hell but stare, if only for a moment before breaking into a dazzling smile, teeth flashing brighter.
"Well gosh Brucie, you got me stumped. Do I get three chances to guess?"
Things would never be the same...
A loud smack rattled, causing the tall lanky man's head to jerk up; cracking with the side of Batman's fist.
The Joker hissed, the taste of blood pulling below his brow as he reaches up to grab at his head.
"The PUNCH line."
Okay, so some things never change.
A loud explosion sounded off in the far walls of the warehouse and Bruce reaches down for his bat- belt as a grapple shoots out striking its target in the ceiling panel on the first try.
He knows the sirens are getting louder, hes their running out of time. But yet... Bruce can't seem to be able to leave just yet; knowing he wants to say...something.
Thankfully, the Prince of Mischief beats him to it.
"Hey Batsy?"
He turns slightly, cocking a well tuned eyebrow as he waits patiently.
"What."
"There's a reason bat's don't come out in daytime. Your jokes are shit, don't quit your day job sweetheart."
Such arrogance... but Bruce would teach him, eyeing him steadily, pupils deliberately moving slowly up and down to rake the clowns body.
Dark images shuttered,
his nemesis underneath him,
clothes ripped to shreds...
He didn't have to say the words, the Joker knew what he meant. What words failed to say; and so did Bruce.
Let's see how cocky you are when your on your fucking knees taking my cock next time.
Instead, Batman simply scoffs, turning before shaking his head as he hids a smile him and the Joker both know is there.
"I wouldn't dream of it...Joker,darling."