Delight in Disorder Chapter 4
Title: Delight in Disorder Chapter 4/?
Author: Melodyofchaos
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything Batman related, if I did Bats and Joker would wear a lot less clothing whilst together.
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Mpreg, explicit sex,
Summery: After Batman gives in to his hidden desires for one night, he carts off the clown to Arkham, only for the doctors to find the Joker is pregnant. Bruce finds out after hacking into the system after the Joker’s escape and reading his medical file, with a side note saying that some doctors at Arkham are theorizing that the Joker was experimented on in the past.
Big thanks to my wonderful beta, Amanda Saitou
Joker sat upon the dirty floor for a while longer, even as the cold from the concrete floor seeped into the bare skin of his arse. Eventually he got up, and began the search for his clothes. He put them on, although he didn’t think of the motions, his mind too busy churning over the events. He could digest the sex, but after Bats had kissed him gently, it had made the Joker feel rather odd. It wasn’t an unwanted kiss exactly, he would never turn down any attention from Bats after all. It had made him feel odd though, and he couldn’t quite figure out why.
Bruce reached his penthouse quickly, going over the rooftops and gliding where possible. He was lucky no-body spotted him, he was thinking only of the Joker, and his reaction to that last kiss. He wondered how long he sat on the floor for. He smiled a little at the shell-shocked look on his face, however it inspired an odd feeling in the pit of Bruce’s stomach when he realised that the Joker expected Batman to be violent with him, he definitely never expected that Batman could be gentle with him. Although it hadn’t been Batman who had kissed the Joker after their violent coupling, it had been Bruce, and that was what scared Bruce. He couldn’t allow any part of himself to feel anything for the madman, it was wrong, the green-haired maniac had killed Rachel. His one chance for a normal life and that bastard had taken her away in a blast of fire that had destroyed more than Bruce’s hope for a normal life. Bruce knew he couldn’t let his anger from Rachel’s death fade away, even with the epiphany he’d had a few days after her death. It had been a subtle whisper in the back of his head, it had implied that the only reason he missed Rachel was not because he had been in love with her, but because he knew he had never been. Oh he loved her certainly, but it wasn’t a romantic form of love. And that the whispering voice told him, was why he hated the Joker so much, because her death forced him to confront certain parts of himself he would never have dared to.
The Joker, meanwhile, was sneaking back to his current hide-out, hidden deep in the worst parts of the Narrows. He hated that he could see the hulking carcass of Arkham Asylum outlined by the sinking sun. He had never been, but he had made it his business to know everything he could about Gotham and of all the worst things he had heard, they all revolved about the asylum. So he would never let Batman drag him there, if it was humanly possible. He wondered what the Bat was doing and thinking right now. Was he thinking about him? Joker certainly hoped so. The picture of Bats took form in his head as he stretched out on the filthy sheets on the lumpy and old mattress. He shifted, attempting to find a comfortable spot, although he failed miserably. He sighed, both to worn out and still too sated from earlier to follow his thoughts on Bats to its natural conclusion.
Bruce climbed into his large bed, and stretched out. Despite his earlier shower, the tension in his muscles had not dissipated. He sighed to himself. This… thing, whatever it was and wherever it was going, with the Joker had to stop. Bruce could already feel himself slipping into a place where the Joker was human, and where Bruce himself felt emotions he would never have thought he would feel for another person. He knew he couldn’t and wouldn’t fall for the Joker. He closed his eyes, and tried to clear his mind. He failed. Bruce couldn’t get past the images floating around in his head. He wasn’t sure he wanted the images to go away. Images of the Joker as he looked tonight, images of the Joker on his knees, Bruce himself on his knees looking up at the psychotic clown. Bruce sighed once again, and resigned himself to another long and sleepless night.
Bruce’s eyelids fluttered open. He glanced at the clock sitting upon his bedside table and groaned. 2:33am. Why was he awake? He was so tired, he just wanted to sleep. What had he been dreaming about? He couldn’t remember, the dream had disappeared upon waking. “Must have been a nice dream though” Bruce murmured to himself, whilst looking down at the tent in the sheets. He tried to will his erection away, but failing miserably, even his worst turn-offs weren’t working! Bruce sighed and took himself in his hand, conjuring up images of his model companions, imagining them doing all sorts of fantastically wicked things to both each other and himself. His hand began to move faster, twisting around just so when it reached the top. Bruce could feel himself rushing towards orgasm. But then, unbidden, Joker made an appearance into his fantasy. The women disappeared, and all that was left was him and Joker. Just as Bruce was about to penetrate the Joker, he came. Despite this, he still felt unsatisfied somehow. ‘Great, now the bastard has ruined wanking for me’ was Bruce’s first thought. In some deep part of himself he supposed he should be concerned about how easily the Joker’s appearance in his fantasy was accepted. Instead of dwelling upon this, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to slip back into sleep.
Joker groaned as he woke up, finding himself tangled in his sheets. He kicked furiously trying to free himself from the harsh cotton grip. He puffed in annoyance when he looked at the clock once he had gotten free. 2:33am. Joker sat up, swearing, knowing from experience he would not be able to sleep until he had gotten rid of this nervous energy his small frame was suddenly filled with. Maybe he could kill someone. Or blow something up. That normally helped. He sighed, expecting he couldn’t face Bats, not yet. His body needed a little longer to recover from the damage Bats heaped upon it, his mind too, needed time to sort through the jumbled mess. You really wouldn’t think one little kiss would be enough to send his mind into a twirling spiral of chaotic thoughts, but it was. It didn’t help that he now found himself craving more of those gentle touches, more of those soft bitter-sweet kisses. He snorted, Bats would properly be amused to find this was how he could have prevented the Joker from taking lives, although on second thought, as this was Batsy, he wouldn’t be. In fact, if the Joker was to voice these thoughts, it would properly be enough to warrant a beating.
Joker sighed and allowed his tired body to flop down on the uncomfortable and lumpy mattress. His head rested upon a pillow stained with grease-paint, lipstick and several other unidentifiable substances. He knew his body was tired, even as it continued to thrum with a nervous energy, his mind, too, couldn’t, wouldn’t stop thinking, thoughts buzzing around his head keeping him from sleep’s pain-filled and nightmare strewn hold. He didn’t know whether to be relived, or to cry with frustration. Instead of expanding further upon the thoughts currently at the fore-front of his mind, his thoughts floated back to the Bat. His body followed with a predictable reaction. Instead of bothering to ignore it, he sighed and allowed his hand to drift downwards and grasp the hardened flesh with a gasp issuing from a painted mouth. Joker pictured Bats in all of their recent encounters, adding his own fantasies to the memories. He came with a pained groan of ‘Batman’ upon his lips, but at the same time as his release felt the nervous energy dissipate somewhat, so Joker knew he could attempt to catch two hours sleep, before waking up again, either by the urgings of his chaotic mind, or by nightmares so terrible, and so ingrained upon his sub-conscious, he did not remember them at all. In fact, the only reason Joker knew he had nightmares was because a rather ballsy henchmen had had the guts to tell his boss that he screamed in his sleep. The Joker had of course killed him, but only after he had offered to get him some help with his sleeping problems. The Joker clenched his jaw with the memory.
Bruce woke up again. He glanced again at the clock, and groaned again. 3:37am, he’d only been asleep for about an hour. Bruce decided to close his eyes once again, and this time hoped he wouldn’t be awakened by dreams of a green-haired clown. Perhaps Bruce should have noticed he no longer referred to his dreams as nightmares, but in his sleep-deprived state, the slip went unnoticed.
Bruce groaned as the bright sunlight assaulted his eyes, and Alfred’s cheery voice filtered through to his sleepy brain. “Come on, Master Bruce, time to get up, you promised Mr Fox you would come in today, there are several meetings he wishes you to attend”. Bruce groaned and sat up, blearily rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I’ll just go and prepare your breakfast” Alfred said, far too chirpily for Bruce’s liking. He said thank you to Alfred, before heading off for an awakening shower. He dried off quickly, dressed, and headed to the eating area to have his breakfast which he finished in record time. Bruce was soon in his car and off to work, praying the day would go quickly, because as much as Bruce hated it, he found himself not being able to wait to see the Joker, the man was like his own personal brand of Heroin, just as addictive and just as destructive. Bruce sighed as he sat through yet another tedious meeting. He really couldn’t wait until the sun went down and he put on the bat suit and found the green-haired maniac who haunted his dreams, they had worsened since this… thing with the Joker has started.
At last, Bruce had finished at work and could go back to his penthouse. His time away from the Joker was drawing to a close, and as horrible as Bruce felt for wanting the Joker this much, he didn’t think he could go without seeing him, but at the same time he knew what he had to do, he had to fulfil his duty to his beloved city, and for that to happen the Joker had to go to Arkham. Perhaps the doctors there could help him, but even as he thought this, Bruce knew no doctor could help the Joker, because to do that, they would need to understand him, and not a living soul could ever do that. His body was strumming with anticipation, knowing he would find the Joker tonight. He arrived at the penthouse quickly, planning to have a quick meal before suiting up and heading out.
Bruce was just about to put on the cowl when he heard the elevator arriving. Alfred stepped off, and Bruce was almost annoyed, knowing that Alfred would hold him up on his way to find the Joker. To his surprise, Alfred merely explained he wished to clean up a little, and that Bruce was free to go. Bruce was soon on his way into the heart of the Narrows, searching for the Joker. This time, Bruce had a plan, after all, he just needed something to get him over this ridiculous thing with the Joker, that way he could take the clown straight to Arkham, without having to worry he somehow depriving himself of something. Yes, that was the plan, one final sexual encounter with the thrice-dammed clown, and he would be all better.
Bruce was surprised when he found the Joker, it really hadn’t taken long, but long enough to get Bruce’s blood pumping that little bit faster. The Joker too, seemed surprised, not just at his presence, but that Bruce had already pushed him into a dark, dank and narrow alleyway, a place they were unlikely to be found. Joker seemed suspicious, with his green eyes narrowed at Bruce. Ignoring these signs of distrust and hostility, Bruce kissed him like a dying man sucking in precious air, before he was consumed by the blackness, a fitting metaphor for the way Bruce thought this illicit affair would end. Joker did not seem to mind, even though he had a hard, cold stone wall pressing into his back, and Bruce within his armour pushed into his chest, Bruce knew the sharp edges of his armour must be causing the Joker some discomfort, but the green-haired man gave no sign of this, if anything he pressed himself harder into Bruce.
Bruce now felt calm, in a wonderfully sexually excited sort of way; however realising he wanted this skin-to-skin, Bruce decided to move this somewhere near and indoors. He pulled his mouth away from the Joker’s own long enough to ask where the nearest motel was. The Joker happily told him, before frowning and asking how they were going to get in, because, as he snidely pointed out, two murderers can not walk up to reception and ask for a room. Bruce rolled his eyes, and told the Joker the plan, which he agreed to, but only after whining and pointing out he did not plan and didn’t like them. Bruce just ignored him, Joker did do a lot of whining after all, one just learned to block out his voice after a short while.
Bruce waited until the Joker had disappeared around the corner, before stripping off his armour and getting out a folded bag from his utility belt. He stuffed the armour in, and walked around the corner in the motel. Bruce quickly charmed the over made-up blonde receptionist who gave him a room, whilst fluttering her eyelashes at him. With a tight smile Bruce practically ran out of reception, pausing to put back on the cowl. He wasn’t ready for the Joker to learn that secret. He wasn’t sure he ever would be. He didn’t bother with the rest of his armour and walked to the room. He had the feeling Joker would know exactly where to find him. When he unlocked the door, Joker was already sitting on the flowery bedspread, with his purple coat sitting next to him. Bruce snorted and shook his head. “How do you do that?” he asked. Joker smirked.
“Do what, Batsy, darling?” He asked, his voice taking on a tone of innocence that didn’t match the smirk still plastered across his features. Bruce sniggered slightly in reply. Joker’s smile only broadened, obviously pleased that he’d made Bruce laugh. Bruce couldn’t help but think about how sweet he looked when he smiled, and that was just wrong, because he couldn’t be sweet, or anything else that might give an indication of humanity, because Joker had given up that a long time ago. Briefly, the ludicrous thought passed through Bruce’s head that did this mean that what he had been doing with the Joker, what he was about to do with the Joker, was bestiality? He quickly dismissed though, he was just being silly.
He snapped out of his thoughts and moved around to kiss the Joker, straddling the smaller man’s thighs. Joker kissed back enthusiastically, opening his mouth to Bruce’s questing tongue, which then proceeded to map out every inch of the Joker’s mouth, paying extra attention and time to the ropey scars adorning both his cheeks. Bruce liked the way they felt against his tongue, so different to any other person’s mouth. The Joker too, was different to kiss, he never held back, and was a surprisingly good kisser. His mouth always tasted nice, a sweet mix of candyfloss and caramel popcorn. Bruce wondered if that was all the other man ever ate. That would certainly explain the Joker’s near-constant state of hyperactivity. He, however, was not going to take his tongue out of Joker’s mouth long enough to ask.
The Joker was now happily lying underneath him, giving out the most delicious sounds of pleasure as Bruce ground his own hardness into the answering one beneath him. Bruce sat back slightly, giving himself enough room to strip off his own tee-shirt. He slid his arms under the Joker’s shoulders so he could pull him up and slid off the suspenders first, unbuttoned the waistcoat and shirt, as well as removing the hideously patterned tie. When Bruce finally had all the clothing on the Joker’s upper body removed, a task made more difficult by the Joker’s tongue exploring his upper body, he began to work at removing the purple pants. Bruce slid off the bed to remove the Joker’s shoes and brightly patterned argyle socks. He also removed the batboots, and his own socks. He then rose and met the Joker in a heated and passionate kiss. Joker then twisted them around so that Bruce was flat on his back with the Joker pressed against every inch of him. Joker was now exploring Batman’s mouth, taking his turn to explore the other’s mouth, after his own was explored so thoroughly before, he wanted to coax those fantastic sounds out of the Bat’s throat again. Those sound alone were properly enough to get him off, Joker thought to himself with a giggle, he thought about sharing these thoughts with the gorgeous man spread out so alluringly below him but decided against, not realising how closely his thoughts mirrored the other man’s.
Joker had decided that this was enough foreplay. He wanted Bats naked and inside him now. He was, after all, known for having a limited patience (none at all some would say, although never to his face). He stripped off his pants, made easier by Bats having already undone the fastenings. The wiggle he did to get the pants off caused more wonderful moans and groans to be freed from the man underneath him. Joker grinned, both because he was now naked and because Bats was making more of those fantastic sounds. He quickly freed Batsy from his clothes and lay back down on him , both men enjoying their first proper skin to skin contact.
Bruce groaned with the heady pleasure of the Joker undulating against him, this was fine for fore-play but Bruce wanted more. He slipped out from under the slighter man, ignoring his displeasure, and dug through the previously forgotten bag for his utility belt. “What are you doing, Bats?” Joker asked, a snarl noticeable in his voice. “Lube” was the grunted reply. If Bruce had been looking at the Joker, he would have registered widened eyes and shocked features although they soon melted into an expression of pleasurable anticipation. Bruce soon found what he was looking for and stood up, erection jutting proudly forward as he returned to the bed. He climbed onto the bed, and began to kiss the Joker again, some part of Bruce’s brain told him that he and Joker spent a lot of time kissing. For once, Bruce ignored the little voices in his brain and got on with the important task of pleasuring his lover.
As they kissed, Bruce’s slick fingers smoothed their way down the Joker’s back, to reach the entrance. Bruce allowed his fingers to circle the puckered flesh, enjoying the Joker’s own sounds of pleasure. His fingers dipped in, and at last Bruce slipped one finger in the hot, tight velvety channel. He moved it in and out slowly, occasionally twisting it around, until at last he hit a small nub which had the Joker giving a small shriek and pushing back onto his finger. Bruce took advantage of his distraction to add a second finger. Joker moaned again.
Joker was merely tolerating this invasion of his body until Bats touched something inside him. Something that made sparks go off behind his eyelids and that made it feel like an electric current ran down his spine and into his balls. When he came back to himself, Batsy had two fingers inside him and was moving them in and out. He whined slightly and pushed back, wanting Bats to touch the magic spot inside him again. Whilst he couldn’t see, Bruce grinned at the wanton actions of the Joker, breaking out of his utter entrancement at watching his fingers slid in and out of the Joker’s body, imaging it was his cock. Still, he didn’t think he would take him like this, Bruce wanted to be able to kiss him. Joker felt a third finger slid in, and groaned at the burning feeling it caused. He had never wanted to have another person inside him before, but he found himself wanting Bats inside him more than anything. After all, whenever he imagined him and Bats having sex, it was Batsy who was dominated, tied up against an oil barrel or nearly unconscious against a wall. This was very different to the angry hate sex he would have expected from his other half.
The Joker gave a small noise of displeasure as Bruce withdrew his fingers, he smiled enjoying every noise the painted man allowed past his harlot-red lips. He leant down and whispered in the Joker’s ear for him to turn around, which the Joker complied with almost immediately. He ran his hands down his spine, reaching his arse which he lifted up, Joker didn’t need to be told to wrap his legs around Bruce’s shoulders. Bruce guided himself into the Joker, groaning at the hot, slick, velvety tightness that had been so good around his fingers, now wrapped around his cock. Joker, too, moaned under him. Bruce began a slow pace, angling his hips so his cock only glanced of the Joker’s prostate. Joker seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, his head twisting from side to side, along with his sweet sounds of pleasure. Bruce then made a mental note to find another way of describing the Joker other than sweet. Clearly the murdering sociopath underneath him was no more sweet than the decaying corpses of the many people he had murdered.
The Joker was enjoying himself. He had never thought that being penetrated could be this enjoyable. The feeling of Bat’s thick, hard cock splitting him open set all his nerves alight. He liked this position too, he could see every tiny emotion flitting across the Bat’s face as he slowly moved in and out of his body. He could also kiss him any time the whim entered his mind. He leant up and captured Batsy’s mouth with his own, pushing his tongue forcefully into the other man’s welcoming mouth. Bats growled into his mouth, and took control of the kiss, thrusting his tongue in and out of the Joker’s mouth in the same rhythm that his hips snapped in and out of his body. At every inward stroke of Bruce’s hips, sparks erupted under his eyelids and electricity flowed down his spine and into his balls, the pleasure building and building.
Bruce groaned again, it felt so good to be buried inside his nemesis’ body, he didn’t think he could last much longer, but then, he reflected with an inward smirk, Joker seemed to be teetering on the brink too. Bruce gritted his teeth in an attempt to keep his splintering self-control. His thrusts into the willing body beneath him sped up, as his climax approached. His eyes flew open, he hadn’t realised he had closed them, and looked into the Joker’s poison-green eyes, which were alight with passion, pain, ecstasy and the familiar flicker of insanity. Bruce drank it all in, and in his eyes the Joker could see his own emotions reflected back at him, but what both men failed to notice was the other emotion that shone plainly out of their eyes.
In that moment, Bruce began to pump the Joker hard, growing desperate to bring the other man’s climax at the same time his own was inevitably going to hit. Joker screamed out Batman as his orgasm hit, coating his own and Bruce’s chests with the pearly liquid. Bruce felt his own orgasm hit like a freight train, pumping his seed into the Joker’s tight, grasping ass.
Bruce collapsed onto the Joker, who grunted as the air was forced out of him by his considerable weight. Bruce knew his plan, yet found himself slipping into sleep along with the Joker who, by his steadily increasing depth of breathing, was nearly asleep too. He was nearly asleep curled around the Joker’s slight frame when he heard a whispered plea in his ear. “Please, don’t leave me Bats.” Bruce’s own reply was just as quiet, “I won’t”. Both men were soon asleep curled as closely to the other as they could get.