What Happens In Arkham...Part 9
Title: What happens in Arkham...Part 9
Authors: knives99 and heatherhouse .
Fandom: Batman; Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman(Bruce)/The Joker
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Bruce Wayne goes to Arkham in search of The Joker's Secrets and Identity and ends up with more then he bargined for.
Warnings: Slash, Violence, Swearing, Sex.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters and no profit is being made here. Batman and the Joker do not belong to me or my co-author.
Author's Note: This is a RP run story between me and my co-author knives99 . Knives plays Joker and Gordon while I play Bruce/Batman and Alfred.
Bruce didn't spare pleasantries for this man. This was no blond youth with a troubled mind, this was the Joker. He glared at the man. "Alfred?" He called out, finally flicking his eyes away from that painted red smile and walking out into the main of the penthouse, leaving the Joker behind. "Alfred?!" He called louder. He'd never forgive himself if the monster he let out hurt the only family he had left.
“I tied him down. Don't freak out on me...yet." He stared at the cut the butler got on his hand. Still pissed over a ruined glove he stared down Bruce," How about you LOOK AT ME. You had no problems before did you? Didn't you WANT me to look at you?" Chuckling and a smack of lips," What happened to you? Huh? Forget about me?"
Bruce wheeled around on the man. "I needed time! We both needed time away from each other, unless you forgot!" He snapped, holding up his hand, set fingers still wrapped as it healed. He either didn't care or didn't want the Joker to know he was paying attention to the knife. For all intensive purposes the Joker had his undivided attention.
"You promised." He said darkly," You left me there alone. Not a fucking sign other then a promise to come back. THE NEXT DAY." His voice boomed. Hateful," You had me going for a little bit. I thought you were lying about the whole thing about needing to know about me and also telling them what you knew. Lemme guess you told them my name? Heh?"
"The only one, who knows your name, is me." Bruce said firmly. "Do you want to know what I told the Doctor you killed? I told him you were getting better. I told him I had to be there the next day in case you slipped. Cause I had the crazy idea that you could have walked out of Arkham one day, without leaving a massacre in your wake. He told me to trust you, long enough to get my own head on straight."
At least that was comforting. His whole identity was broken off from Jack's and he wanted to have it FUCKING stay that way. Tossing the knife from one hand to the other he slicked back his hair sloppily with a low chuckle," Bruce, you didn't honestly think I was going to remain in Arkham till the day I died..? Spending what I have of my youth and then my old age on days waiting for you to come see me? No, No. Arkham was my challenge from Bats while my fight was his! I was keeping the balance of everything between me, him, and the people around us even. People Die. Stop being so sentimental about people less then.." He was so tempted to say us. Bruce's arguments reminded him of his rants with the bat.
"Stop being so human." He stepped slowly towards Bruce moving his hands as he spoke," What could you begin to understand about me? I'm not a god so I can't always guess what happens next...but if you want to hear an explanation for what went on between us? Fine. You make me think of Batman. There is no Jack. I was playing fucking games with you and then I happened to have an anxiety break of cabin fever. You just happened to be the little whore that was there...Gee...makes me think of someone...doesn’t it for you?" He asked with dark eyes. Even he believed what he said. After he killed Bruce who was going to be left to have the true story? The shrieking pain in his head made him wince.
Bruce didn't back up, instead he looked almost bored, hands in his pockets. "You like to talk, don't you?"
"Why is it that I'm the crazy one when I'm living the logical way, huh? Tell me that." He winced again. His body felt really cold on the inside and he paused with only a foot between him and Bruce.
He saw the wince. "So you're next logical move is to kill me?" Bruce asked. "Do you really think it's going to shut Jack up?" He could smell the grease paint on the Joker's face, locking eyes with him. "Eventually he'll come back. Have fun with that."
“Shut up. I don't want to hear that name. I have nothing to do with Jack." He growled and clutched the knife tight. What had Bruce done to his head in those past few days? Everything around him felt so distorted. “Killing you…You wouldn’t understand any of my reasons.” His expression got darker and almost hurt.”‘ I needed time’ Time for what?! I was good enough to be around till somehow you randomly needed time? It’s fucked up to make promises you can’t keep! You have a serious problem finishing things Brucey. If you didn’t want to come back you should have told me or just-” He snickered and felt his eyes almost want to water. He was feeling so much and didn’t know where it was coming from. The Joker couldn’t hold it in much longer.
He watched, waiting for the break. All he had to do was push it a little. "If you kill me, you'll kill the humanity I forced you to feel. It's not that hard to figure out your reasons, but it's faulty." It wasn't safe to touch the cornered animal, not yet. "I was coming back. They told me you weren't responding to anything or anyone, I scheduled some time with you tomorrow morning and that's how I found out about today. The police found my name on the visitor’s schedule. But you can't stay still for a fucking second because of Batman! Two months in there and you couldn't even wait a week for me!" He hissed, and it frightened him because it felt like jealously, betrayal. He ran a hand absently through his hair. Maybe he had gone insane after all.
It burned him. Bruce wasn’t different and was just pure fire. His body stopped and he moved the hand with the knife to his head feeling things that normally the Joker blocked back. He wasn’t sorry about killing those people, Killing Rachel, Corrupting Harvey Dent, and anything before that or after. What he was feeling inside just reminded him how dead he was outside right now along with the in,” NO!” His hand shook and he dropped the knife feeling his mind cracking hard in sensitive places. Why is it that he felt like he heard this speech before but with other names? “Agguuuhhh...” He couldn’t hold back the loud choke that escaped him. The laughter was too loud and wanting to make him smile so that all the pain would go away. Cause then…cause then he could go out and find Batman…and then…fire…and….bombs…The Joker dropped down on his knee’s and rocked holding his head. Bruce was right here. Tearing away at him like an animal. “I’m not human! I’m not! Not like you! I’M NOT LIKE YOU!” Just like before. That man was fighting back in him. Screaming for air.
Bruce kicked the knife away before he kneeled on the ground in front of the Joker, grasping the mans face, his hands smeared in greasepaint but he ignored it. 'You're more like me then you'd think,' he wanted to say. The ghoulish mask had a man under it that he knew, he wanted that man back. Smiles without madness and awkward pauses, confusion over shear crazed determination. "Even monsters knew how to feel once." Against all the screaming his voice might have been lost but he doubted it. "Jack remembers."
“He’s dead!” He struggled to get his head away. Too hot. It was too hot! Those hands were fire! He moved out his hands to push Bruce back and away. No doubted smearing his make up with his struggles.
Bruce gritted his teeth, grasping strands of sprayed hair to hold on to. Not allowing the man to run away. 'If I had to break you're coming with me,' he thought viciously.
Those burning hands had moved from his face to his hair now. It was like being encircled with heat. The Joker could hear him but he didn’t want to accept that, but Jack did. Jack could feel those words as he struggled against the monster in him. ‘Bruce. Why do I feel that we are so much alike?’ he thought. His hands moved up and grabbed Bruce’s throat and squeezed,” Stop trying to burn me away, Bruce! I have no humanity! I’m a freak! You don’t know the feeling or a life like that!” He started to shake Bruce by the throat,” You don’t know my life!” His grin fought back against Jack but the Joker was loosing his battle. It wasn’t an insane clown smile of victory that he was going to crush the life out of Bruce’s neck. It was a scared, nervous, lonely and insane man with a deformed face.
The Laughter was fading into a low echo and he growled with water forming in his eyes,” GRIN AND BARE IT!” His eyes stung. Crying? Was he going to cry? Yes…Crying. He’d remembered doing it before when he was Jack. It always hurt the most before you cried. It was a special hurt. A hurt the Joker couldn’t take as his grip on Jack loosened and allowed him to come up from a cold hell for air.’ When did it stop being about the fun and the pain?’ he wondered as tears spilled over and made the black around his eyes run,’ When did this become so emotional and real. Why was Bruce the only real thing?
The grip wasn't deathlike, it still made breathing painful, speaking a nightmare. But it was the small price to pay next to the consequences of staying silent. His fingers tightened in the Joker's hair to the point of biting as he felt those hands squeeze. "I'm not...," breathe in, god dammit breathe in! "...trying to bu...rn you." His head tilted back, trying to relieve the pressure on his Adam’s apple, it didn't help. “Trying to...find...you..." 'Grin and bare it? Jesus Christ!' His fingers, scrambling in their search for oxygen left those dirty green locks to the Joker's face and brush away black paint and tears. A grim smile all he could manage as he coughed, wrapped in the Joker's hands. "...Jack."
The grip slowly loosened. ‘Where am I?’ He sobbed and let go. Now on his hands and knee’s watching little black spatters of fluid drip off his face and on the floor he felt all those truths he wanted to bury rise up in his mind. He was facing his insane wants and needs and confusing them. Batman and Chaos now had a third point in mind being slowly voted in by his body and his real heart. ‘What’s happening to me?’
Bruce fell away coughing and dragging air into his lungs, silently watching the man losing control. The growing pool of black on the floor almost like poison being drawn from the wound. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, balling the material in his hand, a landscape of scars and bruises underneath. He had nothing else in reach, so he used it to clean the tears away, the noises he made to quiet the other man down rough in patches from his near throttling.
He slowly started to take deep breaths but the tears kept coming out. His hands were over his face and then slowly wiped down. He looked at one from his curled up position and looked at the wet mix of color all over the purple leather on his hand.
All the shirt was doing was continuing to smear the paint but not remove it. He let out a frustrated growl and tossed the ruined, pricey shirt aside and grabbed hold of the Joker's elbow, slipping another around the man’s waist, he tried to coax him into standing. "Come on."
There was no resistance. The Joker stood with aid and allowed him to be moved. He was so numb that it was doubtful he was all there.
Bruce steered him back into the bathroom, veering off to the large bathroom attached. He still needed to get Alfred free, but he needed to get the Joker cleaned up first. It was disturbing how pliant he was as he made the Joker sit on the raised surface of the bathtub sides as he searched the cupboards for something useful. Bruce kept make-up remover in the panic room for the black he used but he didn't want to risk leaving the man alone to go and get it, or risk the contents of the panic room being seen. He found a bottle of baby oil instead, not perfect, but it was better then nothing. Grabbing a washcloth he crouched next to the Joker and removed the soiled gloves. Then he worked diligently to remove the paint, using the oil to loosen the paint and wipe it away. Soon he'd switched to a wet rag, sponging away the last remnants that clung to the jagged scars and creases in his forehead.
The entire time while Bruce cleared away the face of the Joker and made his scar’s now less detailed from the paint; his mind was in other places. It had never been so silent in his mind before. Never did he feel this empty that he could remember in such a long, long time. ‘Am I dead?’ He wondered. His face remaining blank but somehow tragic as tears spilled out with no sobs or wails. Silent tears. ‘Its so cold... .’
Bruce combed his hand through the greenish blond locks afterwards almost absently. He'd take care of that later but for now it would have to stay. His hand came down instead to slide down the Joker's face and brush across his scars with a gentle swipe of his thumb. "Jack?"
His face moved with the motion of Bruce's thumb and his eyes closed. No other response.
Even though the Joker sat there in tears, only half of his guise missing, Bruce had the alarming thought that what was sitting before him now was easily nothing more then the empty husk of a man. He hadn't said a word since his outburst and this docility scared Bruce more then he wanted to admit. A large part of him would have considered that as a relief, safety for the people of Gotham, a debt for his sins and the people he'd killed. But the part that was growing in him with each passing second was horrified by the idea. He moved before he knew what he was doing, and no sooner did he have his arms around the Joker's waist he'd pulled the rag doll figure down on the floor with him, effectively onto his lap and into his arms. "Don't do this!" He whispered harshly. "Don't stop fighting now, please."
The movement was so sudden. The coolness in his chest was being heated when Bruce's was against his own. He blinked and looked around over Bruce's shoulder. Looking for maybe reason or something to say. He took in a slow shaky breath,”. Why...so serious..?" He said. Thinking it would confirm Bruce he was at least inside that crazy head someplace.
Bruce laughed, sounding relieved as he held the man closer. "Next time you want to kill yourself, go jump off a building okay? Just...don't do that again." He said firmly, he wouldn't say pleadingly.
Carefully and with obvious nervousness The Joker wrapped his arms around Bruce and ran his finger’s into the soft dark hair. This moment felt fine. He felt fine just fine. “If...I was going to kill myself wouldn’t it make sense to take you with me..?”
"Thanks for the consideration," he said dryly, sounding a bit more like himself now that the worst was over. He closed his eyes as fingers slid into his hair. He had no doubt that they would be the death of each other in the end. Whether like this or as the Joker and Batman, they would be the last thing either one ever saw. It didn't bother him; it was the time before that end that worried him. What could they do with one of them in such a constant war against himself? "Did you really come here to kill me?" He asked.
He buried his face into the crook of Bruce’s neck and pushed against him. The heat of the other’s body was so soothing. All he wanted was to feel good again. “Bruce..” He mumbled and held on to him tight.
Bruce dragged a slow breath into his lungs. Fine, for now he'd leave it alone. Instead he gave the man what he needed. Stroking the back of the others neck in lazy light touches, he dropped his mouth down to kiss the skin exposed by the unbuttoned v of a hexagon collar.
The kiss against his skin made him flush a little. It caused his heart to start to thump hard inside his chest. He wanted to have Bruce. The Jok-…Jack wanted to be completed by him. The fire the man brought always melted the ice on his heart and brought all those natural feelings back. Human things Jack used to know. He lifted his face from Bruce’s shoulder and lightly dragged his bottom lip up his neck and then brushed it along his jaw. When he reached his ear and huskily spoke,” I want you, Bruce.”
It's really all he needs. Hands fist the back of both shirt and vest, he pulls back to look into those green eyes and he sees Jack staring back at him. A curious smile plays over Bruce's lips before he leans in and explores Jack's own twisted grin, breathing in sharply as he sealed their mouths closed with a firm kiss. Still kneeling, he pushed the other backwards until his back met the bathroom wall, bodies meeting at pelvis and hip as he angled to gently hold him there as his hands slowly began to undo the vest buttons, then the shirt that lay beneath it.
No fight. He responded to the kiss with need. He readjusted his hold on the other man while they locked lips. Jack was always nervous but now he wasn’t. Slowly button by button as Bruce began to remove his custom made clothing he relaxed as far as he could before one made love. All his trust was in Bruce now as he was made like a gift to him. Peeling away the gift wrapped shell of the Joker and exposing that who he fully was: Jack Napier. The hand in Bruce’s hair gently pets down his head and along the back of his neck. It traveled down feeling the skin on Bruce’s back and finding the familiar bumps of scars. Why did he have them? Should he worry about them now? No. He let Bruce continue with no interruptions.
As nervous hands played across scars earned as Batman and some as Bruce Wayne from his careless days, he wondered if the man even knew that some of the marks he touched were his own work. He kissed Jack harder, to wash it all away, wipe the slate clean for tonight. As he finished with the buttons he pulled both shirt and vest down to the mans elbows. Leaving Jack trapped and bared at the same time, pinned between the cool tile and Bruce's chest. It was a shock at first, so used to the feeling smooth skin beneath his own when he took a partner to bed. A shudder ran through his body at the odd new tingle of scars gliding against scars.
He felt so exposed now. Was sex always feel so open like this? There was no darkness to hide in. His pale chest rose and fell nice and quick while his lung took deep hungry breaths. As soon as Bruce’s kiss grew harder he parted his lips to let him in. The feeling of the other’s chest rubbing him made his nipples stiffen as arousal began. Already he was starting to stiffen in his pants. While one hand played in soft dark hair the other hand traced the tip of his middle finger and ring finger over a scar that could only have been made by a knife.
Bruce groaned against the welcoming mouth, his tongue swiping hungrily at the warmth inside. But he wanted to see. This was the most he'd been able to divest the man of so far, he'd felt but never seen, and he wanted to see. Pulling back from the kiss, he was panting, eyes glassy but clear enough to see the pale skin mapped in its own marks as his hand reached out to trace, eyes following the path of his fingers as he brushed a nipple with the rough pad of a thumb.
It made his skin jump with desire when the nub was touched. The kiss now broken he was regaining air fast. His scarred face a light red from the rise in body heat. You could tell he was very aroused. Jack couldn’t have wanted this more then anything he could think of. He gave a lusty half-lidded expression up at the other man and then ran his tongue over his own bottom lip giving him a hungry face. Why was he staring at him like that? Was Bruce finally over the edge or something?
Brown eyes flicked up in time to see the look directed at him, a devilish smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth as he bent down and trailed his tongue over raised skin.
A very vocal purr and he started to move his hips against Bruce's as best he could in the position they were in. His body was so eager to be ravished and sweating from the inferno that was Bruce's embrace.
The purr traveled through him and straight to his groin, hips bucking up against Jacks. His breath hot and panting against a pale ear as Bruce's hands slid up Jack’s back and pulled the shirt and vest away for good, fingers relieving the coolness of the wall from his shoulders. "Think we can make it to the bed?" He asked huskily, teeth nipping gently just underneath earlobe
"Anything you want.." He answered. The bed sounded so much better the hard bathroom wall. He attempted to move from the wall and towards the door.
It was odd once they were on their feet again. Both naked to the waist and rumpled, Bruce wasn't sure how they were going to make it to the bed. But not being someone unused to the bedroom, he knew there were a few things that could be taken care of along the way. Like his hands tugging at the belt and zipper of Jacks pinstriped pants as he led him toward the bed and sat down first, pulling Jack down with him.
Things got fast when his belt and zipper were being removed. His heart pounded hard now in his chest and he felt himself twitch at the motions over his erection. He could tell Bruce was a professional at these things...and knew just what to do for everything. It wouldn’t have shocked him if Bruce turned out to have a side table drawer full of condoms and tingling lubricants. Once on the bed he wasted no time attacking Bruce’s neck. His skin had the faint taste of sweat on it. Did he have no air conditioning in that panic room he’d appeared from? His hands were working on Bruce’s lower garments with clumsy speed. He was nervous.
Bruce let out throaty groan and tilted his neck up to that mouth. He was surprised that a man who'd managed to rule his life for weeks as the Joker was suddenly clumsy with what he did. But this wasn't that man, the Joker would have been adept at a quick, mindless fuck. But this was different, with emotions involved and Jack was stumbling, and assurance better then any vocal admission. Bruce let his hands move between them and lace through Jacks to help him undo the hooks and zipper, sighing as his arousal was only confined now in a pair of boxers. But he was more worried with getting Jacks pants off instead of his own. Moving the purple pants and whatever he was wearing underneath down those slim hips.
He grabbed and hooked his fingers into the waistline of Bruce’s pants and boxers. Sitting up he started to work them off. Growing more excited with each bit of skin exposed till his entire body was exposed. Scars. So many scars. Why did he have them? Gun shot scars, Dog bite scars, knife wounds, and some he couldn’t tell. What was it Bruce did for a living again? Then his attention moved and he slid down and ran his hands down along the other man’s hips and upper thighs. Looking at his erection and taking in the size. “..Big.” He said in a small voice. He took it in his hand with a shy way about it licked around the head. The skin was so soft and there was a sticky, sweet, taste about it.
Bruce's hips bucked in response, a hiss escaping through clenched teeth. "Shit!" His cock twitched, fully erect at the sudden attention. His head fell back on the bed as he tried to pull Jack up to him.
Then came resistance. Jack didn’t want to be moved. He wanted to watch Bruce writhe under him. He wasn’t ready to do anything till he got his full visual feel on just how much Bruce wanted him right now. His mouth plunged down and filled with Bruce’s rock hard cock. It was somewhere during this he wondered if his scars could be noticed when he slid his mouth slightly up and down the now slick flesh. Oh- and the fun doesn’t stop there. Jack KNEW how to use his tongue and seemed to have talent at rolling his tongue along the underside. Something that should hint to Bruce that this was not the first time he'd done something like this before.
And Bruce was suddenly not in control of the situation anymore. "Fuck!" He snapped as he felt a ruined mouth take him in to a blistering warmth. The muscles in his legs and stomach corded, going rigid as a hand fisted in those green locks. He started to pant and twitch as a skilled tongue was put into play, eyes closing as he hooked a foot in the crook of Jack's knee and moved his hands over and under those wiry shoulders. All it took was a push back on the chest and a tug with his foot to dislodged and pull Jack to him, not to mention a great deal of will power and tried to roll them over.
He couldn’t believe how quickly and easily he'd been maneuvered from his position. One moment all he’d known to his eyes was Bruce: crying out and grabbing on to him. Feeding of the pleasure Jack was giving to him with his mouth. Then he was on his back with Bruce over him. He licked his bottom lip and smiled,” Too much?” He asked huskily.
Bruce tried to regain his breathing while holding down the grinning man in case he got anymore wicked little ideas set in his mind. He was starting to realize that whatever personality was dominant the other was still actively participating. "Maybe...for the moment. I do want to make it through tonight at least," Bruce tried to joke. "At this point I'm just taping your mouth shut if you freak out again." He swore, both eyes and voice dark as he seized either side of the pants Jack was still wearing and tugged them down sharply.
He turned to look away. Still grinning and still aroused. As his pants moved away you could see boxers under them in festive colors. On his right thigh was a serious knife wound and on the back of his calf it looked like someone had failed an attempt to cut the achilles tendon. Jack moved his arms up so his wrists were over his eyes. He felt strange all over.. Under the boxer’s he was aching.” Bruce..” He moaned.
Bruce made short work of the pants and after raising an eyebrow at the boxers had those on the floor as well. With a small smirk he left the colorful argyle socks alone as he traveled back up and snorted at the sudden inability of Jack's to look at him. During the shaky hands routine he might have believed it but not after he'd felt what that mouth could do moments ago. He reached down between them without fanfare or warning, watching as his hand wrapped around Jack's cock and pumped it once.
His hips jumped at the attention. Those hands over his eyes moved to the sides of his head while it leaned back. Jack groaned and shut his eyes trying to even out his breathing as he felt a horrible urge to force Bruce to move his hand hard and fast till the point of pain came along. He tried to keep his self control. His right hand moved out to hold over Bruce’s while at the same time he parted his legs some. Jack wanted to encourage all possible idea’s to his aching cock.
Bruce took the invitation, lifting his thumb up to swirl the pre-cum glistening at the tip of Jack's cock to use as lubrication and started a slow rhythm that he knew it wouldn't keep the man happy for long. Stroke, pump, his thumb gliding over the throbbing vein. He bent down as he watched the man react and moan, sending shivers down his spine as he traced the long cut across Jack's thigh with burning curiosity. Who the hell had gotten such a good cut on a man who practically slept with a knife on hand? But something else was burning brighter at the moment and Bruce forcibly claimed Jack's lips and he moved their combined hands faster.
Sex was never like this according to Jack’s memory. This was almost the ultimate. He moaned against Bruce’s mouth and rolled his hips with Bruce’s teasing and stroking. “Mmhn..~” He grabbed a handful of dark hair with his free hand and lightly pulled. How much would it take to get Bruce to scream before he lost all sense to pleasure? ‘I want him to push me to the edge. I want him wild.’ He managed to think. His legs moved around Bruce and pulled him down against him. “I..I want…” Jack was nervous to ask for more. The answer he would get made him nervous.
Bruce hissed at the tug and bit down on Jack's lower lip before he was suddenly trapped against that wiry body, bare skin against skin. He'd be lying if he said it was anything but fucking fantastic. He'd never had such a contradictory partner in bed before. Next to Jack's physical actions, his words remained unsure. So despite the fact that Bruce's painful erection was ground into Jack's hip, he gave the other man his complete attention. "What?" He asked breathlessly, kissing the left scar along his face before locking eyes with him. "Tell me what you want." He was prepared to do anything for this man right now, even knowing of the danger in that, he would still do it.
It was delicious and made him worry at about a 5 to 1 scale. It was a doubt in the back of his mind. Still one thing keeping him from- He stared back at the brown eyes gazing down at him. It was like all of his answers were right there. No argument needed with what logic those brown orb’s shown. His breathing was then allowed to grow quick and he pulled Bruce down hard against him and nuzzled his neck,” I want you to fuck me stupid.”
Bruce was crushed without complaint, the bind of limbs and body making his lips part in a wordless moan. He let his eyes fall shut as those words registered, his body going still. His hand gliding down Jack's body in a slow and studying way, as if he committed each curve and dip to memory until he reached one of the lean legs wrapped around his waist. Grasping under the knee he pulled the limb away to free himself. His expression was unreadable, brown eyes overcast with something that Bruce knew well, but he doubted the Joker or even Jack had seen it often enough to name it. He leaned down before the man underneath him could think the worst and brushed a hand over one scarred cheek. "Don't move."
That look-That look that Bruce just gave him. He couldn’t understand it. What was it? It made anxiety creep up his back and then away after a rough hand gently rubbed over his scar’s. He nodded.
Bruce proved Jack's earlier speculations true as he came back from the nightstand with a bottle of lube. Even though his usual bedfellows were female, it didn't make the gesture of painless sex an unwelcome addition. Kneeling between Jack's legs, Bruce coaxed them farther apart as he coated two fingers and slowly probed and pressed in without a novices uncomfortable jabs against any sensitive nerves. Six years out of the public eye had helped hone his training as Batman, but it didn't mean he hadn't indulged in a few other curiosities formed by a previously sheltered life.
The intrusion was always strange when Jack or the Joker ever indulged men willingly as a bottom. Being made love to was acceptance and it was dominance. Bruce taking him was Bruce taking Jack as his. He shuddered as he was entered and he went through the routine of relaxing himself for Bruce. He moaned,” You…want me..?” He asked like he wanted assurance.
Bruce leaned down and kissed him roughly, all need and unchecked passion for a long moment before he reigned it in again. Breathing hard he locked eyes with Jack. "Yes."
“Then…do it to me.” He said,” Fucking tear me apart.” Jack said with obvious hunger in his voice. Ready. It didn’t matter if Bruce hurt him! Besides it didn’t matter when Bruce hurt him because hurt always led to pleasure in the end. He still needed that extra edge.
And here, Bruce hesitated. Rough sex he'd had before, even angry sex that bordered on the point of safety words. But Jack...he wanted pain with pleasure, something it seemed was not singular to the Joker. So even as his moral ground shuddered and a primal part of him stirred, Bruce hesitated. Slipping his fingers out, he set the lube aside and bent Jacks knees up to his chest and positioned himself. "Take a breath," he said before he thrust in hard enough to see stars for a moment.
A loud cry almost bordering a scream as Bruce shoved himself inside Jack. Yes it hurt. ‘A good hurt!’ he thought to himself when his mind returned from wherever pain made him fade into. He reached up over his head and grabbed on to the bed sheets. “Go…don’t wait…” He wanted to enjoy the hurt till it met that point of being undistinguishable from pleasure before switching over to just pure pleasure.
Bruce didn't argue, knowing how much more it would hurt otherwise. The scream, the pleasure and pain mixed in with the first breach made his stomach roll but pitched his senses onto a whole new level at the same time. He pulled back and thrust in again, nearly dry and let out a sympathetic gasp of pain as he did, but he didn't stop.
“Ahhhnn!” He looked like he was suffering. Of course you could tell it was at first real suffering then slowly rolled into good suffering. He was tearing at the sheets over his head as Bruce fucked him hard. “Y-Yes.” He watched Bruce over him and smiled. Admiring his handsome face and body and memorizing him and how he moved and sounded as he took his pleasure for Jack’s body. If things could only be like this always. One of the hands tearing into the sheets let go and reached up to grab one of Bruce’s strong shoulders. ‘What…are you thinking..?’ Was Jack’s last rational thought before his prostate was hit against. He screamed.
The screams tore at his ears, and finally Bruce couldn't take it anymore. Hooking Jack's knees over his shoulders, he drove in deeper and leaned down to swallow the scream in a kiss. Sliding his hands underneath Jack's shoulders he held on and pulled the other man into each thrust, aiming and striking that point that would make it all wash over the brink of pain and into something else entirely. Breathing harshly through his nose, Bruce would not release those distorted lips, not for the world. If nothing else so he didn't have to hear the screams as every thrust racked his body with raw heat and pleasure.
He had no sense left in his head. All he could process was Bruce and that mixed feeling he was making inside him. His face was in pure ecstasy and he could barely concentrate on kissing back. His toes spread inside his socks and he felt his cock throb with each hit to his prostate. “Mhf..!” Both arms moved around Bruce’s’ neck. They were so tightly wound together; Melted as one.
Air, he needed air. Pulling away from the kiss, he had enough control over his body long enough to see the change on Jack's face before he buried his face into the crook of a neck. Shit, he was close! His body tightened, the heat building to almost unbearable temperatures as he reached between them, the sweat slick of their skin making it easier as he grasped Jack's cock and started to beat a frantic rhythm along with the way Bruce was pounding into him. A string of fluent curse words and senseless murmurs spilled from Bruce's lips as they got closer, closer.
It was like bolt of lightening. “B..Bruce…Hhaannhh!!” His back arched and he fought for air as he felt himself spill his white hot seed into Bruce’s hand. All his toes curled up tight along with all his other muscles. This was when Bruce’s thrusts hurt the most. When his insides tensed around Bruce good and tight the erratic thrusting felt like a hot knife cutting through him. It was a genuine hurt enough to bring tears to his eyes again.
Bruce came hard a few thrusts later, each one lancing through him until he finally tipped over the edge and bit down on a scream. His body shudders before the shockwaves finally subside and he collects enough sense in the aftermath to realized he's crushing the body underneath him. He quickly propped himself up, hand and stomach sticky as he looked down at the total opposite of what he'd expected. "Jack?" He asked with concern, taking in the pained green eyes brimmed with tears.
He was catching his breath and getting over the tears slowly. His legs where quivering once Bruce finished and he put his arms around him to pull him down again over him stroking his hair,” It was good...it’s okay...” He chuckled and then turned his face away to look at the door,” Do you think he heard?” If he recalled right he tied a certain butler down to a chair and gagged him. No telling if he had heard the screams and moaning.
"Who?" Bruce asked, brain still faintly foggy as he tried to soothe Jack's body from the heavy handling. A moment later it clicked. "Oh shit!" His forehead falling heavily on Jack's chest, Alfred was going to kill him. "If he didn't hear me, he definitely heard you. I think the whole building heard you."
He laughed. No doubt the old man was blushing or fuming over the situation at hand. Jack looked at Bruce still smiling,” Go, I’ll be right here.”
Bruce eyed him for a moment before cupping his jaw. "Don't leave." It was a request as he kissed Jack before rolling out of bed and grabbing a pair of sweats to pull on. He had the foresight to at least move into the bathroom long enough to clean off his hand and stomach, he didn't need to give Alfred more ammo then the man was already efficiently equipped with at the moment.
Jack didn’t move from the position he was in. Leave? Where did he have to go other then some abandoned building? No, No, No. That wasn’t going to do when this bed felt sooooooooooo good. He laid still watching Bruce pull on some clothing, run in the bathroom, and then run out again and towards the door. A slow smirk came on his face.
Bruce tried to tame his wild hair as he walked out into the hallway, spotting his own soiled shirt and the Joker's knife on the floor. He absently kicked the shirt into the bedroom and shut the door as he took the knife with him. They'd practically been shouting at the tops of their lungs in the hallway like a bad case of domestic violence. This was going to be interesting. "Alfred?" He called out calmer then he had before and heard a muffled shouting come from the kitchen. When he found the butler he was quite the sight. The Joker must not have planned to find Alfred here because he'd used a kitchen rag to gag the man and a power cord ripped from some poor appliance to bind him to a chair. From the look he was getting it was probably best to take the gag off last.
Once Bruce was out of sight Jack sat up in the bed and winced. His lower half ached. Sliding his hand down his body and between his thighs he felt around lightly before bringing his hand up to see the damage. Three fingers with semen and blood on them. He was going to have to clean that or it’d be horrible later. His mind switched modes then and he looked around the room. What a nice room. He never had a nice room before. Then he stood up and walked to the door listening for sounds. What was Bruce doing again?
It took very quick work with the knife to get Alfred free, he regretted the speed when his once upon a time guardian began talking in a brisk tone. "I believe you've taken the phrase 'you've made your bed now sleep in it' a little too literally, Master Bruce. Though sleeping is hardly what I'd call the sounds I heard." Bruce had the decency to blush before he set the knife on the counter.
"Alfred...you don't understand." He ran a hand over his face, suddenly feeling the hours he'd spent out on patrol. "It's complicated."
"Well then allow me to uncomplicate it, sir." Alfred said, catching Bruce's attention with a furrowed brow. "The Joker breaks out of Arkham, taking no less then thirty lives in the process, then goes off to kill some poor bloke who thought he was doing the world a favor. And to finish it off, he comes here to kill you. Simple enough for you?" Alfred asked. Bruce held up his hands irritably.
Bruce reigned in his temper, running a hand through his hair that after being messed around with by Jack's fingers refused to lie flat. "Look, something happened that I can't explain, all right. Back in Arkham and now here, I think he can change, he's already starting to, he didn't do anything more then tie you up Alfred." His mind was grasping at straws, he had no idea why he'd pushed all the Joker's past evils aside for Jack. It was too easy to forget when he had the man in his arms. Alfred watched him silently before sighing, looking tired and old in that moment.
"Then I'll continue to simplify things, shall I? The hard truth is, Master Wayne. That all wrongs, even the ones we could never hope to forgive, seem justifiable if it keeps the ones we love near us." He said grimly.
The arguments where very hard to hear but Jack could tell the old man wasn’t pleased with whatever Bruce told to him. He opened the door and prowled out partially. Snickering came to mind. Snickering and little burns of curiosity as burning green eyes scanned around. He approached the corner so he was just out of sight to listen in more. If he was going to be talked about he was going to be there to hear it! No one would be there to defend him. No one ever did. His lower half ached again.
He turned his head some looking down. The mess was going down the back of his thighs and starting to dry, Messy. A strange mood swing of anger then worry hit him. When he looked back at the strong tone the older man was using. Why was Bruce taking that from some butler? He stared at the expression on Bruce’s face and frowned some. Was that Butler an important person? A strange bout of Jealously sparked in Jack’s heart when the Butler mentioned the word love. It was then he put on the Joker’s grin and stare and came out around the corner laughing in a monotone,” Oh jeeves…Don’t give him such a hard time..”
Bruce was speechless by Alfred's words, that couldn't be the explanation. Whatever thoughts he had on the subject would have to be saved for later musings when a familiar voice did not herald the approach of Jack. Bruce had his back to the hallway, but judging by Alfred's sudden flicker of shock which quickly turned to stern disapproval on a appropriateness level instead of a moral one, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Just putting things in perspective as it were," Alfred said calmly, a cold tinge to his words but not as much as Bruce would have expected. He turned to say something to the man who'd just made his presence known and let out a noise of pure frustration over the nude figure before pinching the bridge of his nose. He was too tired to deal with this.
“No, you were being a prick.” Jack said in his Best-Joker-In-The-World voice. He came up behind Bruce and put his hands on each of his shoulder’s smiling still,” Why make perspective out of something as simple as sex?” He moved his arms around Bruce’s neck. The possessive body language might get across to Bruce that he didn’t like the butler so much. He stuck out his tongue,” Go clean something.”
Bruce grasped the other mans slim hips hard. "Jack, cut it out!' He snapped, suddenly. Alfred seemed to start at the idea that the Joker had a name, but Bruce ignored it. He didn't have the patience for this game, not right now. "Alfred is not just hired help and after tying him up the least you can do is cut the crap for about ten minutes," he said, though his tone was gentler then the words were as he searched those green eyes, begged him to act like a human for someone other then Bruce. He wanted Alfred to see the reason.
He looked at Bruce, then to the butler, then back. His smile didn’t fade and he cocked a brow. “I think he should be counting his blessings.” Then he held on to Bruce tighter.
Bruce sighed. "Alfred, can you excuse us for a second?" He asked. When he got no response, Bruce looked at the Butler with an almost pleading look. "Please?"
Alfred looked incredibly torn about leaving his master alone with a madman, but he finally resigned himself to it and nodded. "I'll be just in the other room." He assured, making it sound like a warning to the Joker as well as he walked out.
Bruce's dark eyes were sharp when they snapped back to Jack as he extracted himself from the mans naked limbs. "Care to explain?"
He put his hands behind his head like he was trying to pose or something. His smile still didn’t fade,” Why are you taking guff from an old man? You look like some sad puppy...” His smile grew and he turned away walking back for the bedroom,” I don’t see any reason to let him talk to you like that…when you’ve got me.”
"Because Alfred raised me," Bruce said without explanation or apology. He was going to go on until Jack turned around and he clearly saw the blood running down the back of his pale legs. Looking down at the floor there was a small trail of blood drops that he'd left in his wake. Bruce had been so caught up with everything and getting Alfred out that he hadn't taken the time to make sure Jack had really been all right. He felt his stomach heave as he walked up behind Jack and laid a hand gently placed a hand on his ass. "And he understands what's going on between the two of us better then I do."
He paused at the touch. His body froze up at the explanation. Anger welled up and he turned looking at Bruce darkly,” It’s none of his business and I should kill him.” He then turned his face into a scowl,” Why does he need to understand it? Why does it need understanding?”
Bruce's face was calmer in comparison. "Because I needed one. He told me what I needed to hear," he said and curved his arm around a bare waist, careful of the blood as he tried to lead them back into the bedroom. "Come on, let’s get you cleaned up."
He let Bruce lead him pouting. Then he sped up his walking and then rushed into the bed room and jumped under the cover’s,” Nooo! I’m staying here.” He whined.
Bruce blinked. Arms full of Joker one moment and staring a large lump under the bed covers the next. It would have been funny if the petulant act wasn't grating on his nerves. "You're bleeding!" He snapped irritably. "You can get back in the bed after I've looked at you."
"I'm fine!" He barked.
"Fine," Bruce growled. Turning on his heel towards the bathroom he came back moment later with a first aid kit and a wet cloth in hand. He didn't even give Jack fair warning before he ripped the sheet back to get at him.
He turned and moved to start a crawl that would turn into a run. No way was he going to get cleaned up right now! Not while he was aggravated by that stupid nosy butler! " Hey!" He cried and attempted an escape.
Bruce was having none of it and pinned him down. "Lay still or I'll force feed you the valium they gave me for my hand." He warned.
He struggled," I don't want you to! Its fine! It doesn’t even hurt!"
"Really?" He asked, unconvinced and ground Jack's hips and ass back into the bed.
"Nnh..!!" He bit into his lip. It sort of stung and ached but it wasn’t that bad.
Bruce sighed. "Turn over, at least let me clean away the blood."
A growl but he obeyed.
The little display made Bruce smirk but he quickly got to work by coaxing Jack to spread his legs wider as he ran the warm washcloth over the backs of his legs and inner thighs, cleaning away semen and blood and the general grit and dirt the man had accumulated since his escape from Arkham. He even spread the cheeks gently to clean away any clotted blood and check for any severe damage left behind.
It made his face flush and his heart thump hard in his chest. Was this what it was like to be embarrassed again? It was kind of like being dunked in a pool of hot water. Jack moved his arms and buried his face into them. Not wanting Bruce to notice the emotion across his face. He had no serious damage. Just dirty from hard and very rough sex. He mumbled something into the bed.
"Missed that," Bruce quipped as he moved his attention back down those legs, his weary eyes noticing that the sun was finding a permanent spot in the sky now. "Want to repeat that?" He asked setting the cloth and kit aside.
"...It was nothing." He said waiting to be told he could move.
Bruce ran a curious finger over the scar so close to the achilles, but at the dodge he finally gave up and let himself flop onto the bed next to Jack. "If you say so," he said tiredly.
A yawn. Jack turned over on to his back and stretched his arms over his head. The escape, the killings, the running, and then the sex had worn down the man. He closed his eyes and went still. “It felt good. Will we get to do it again?” He asked softly.
Bruce glanced over at his strange bedfellow as sleep took him. Too tired for riddles, deception and lies, too tired to care if the Joker would snap back in vivid reality and slit Bruce's throat while he slept. Bruce reached across the small space between them and rubbed the end of one green strand until the blond started to shine through. He smiled. "I hope so."
“Go to sleep. “ He whispered. The smile slowly looking like it was dying to relax. Another yawn, and then nothing else.
Authors: knives99 and heatherhouse .
Fandom: Batman; Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman(Bruce)/The Joker
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Bruce Wayne goes to Arkham in search of The Joker's Secrets and Identity and ends up with more then he bargined for.
Warnings: Slash, Violence, Swearing, Sex.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters and no profit is being made here. Batman and the Joker do not belong to me or my co-author.
Author's Note: This is a RP run story between me and my co-author knives99 . Knives plays Joker and Gordon while I play Bruce/Batman and Alfred.
Bruce didn't spare pleasantries for this man. This was no blond youth with a troubled mind, this was the Joker. He glared at the man. "Alfred?" He called out, finally flicking his eyes away from that painted red smile and walking out into the main of the penthouse, leaving the Joker behind. "Alfred?!" He called louder. He'd never forgive himself if the monster he let out hurt the only family he had left.
“I tied him down. Don't freak out on me...yet." He stared at the cut the butler got on his hand. Still pissed over a ruined glove he stared down Bruce," How about you LOOK AT ME. You had no problems before did you? Didn't you WANT me to look at you?" Chuckling and a smack of lips," What happened to you? Huh? Forget about me?"
Bruce wheeled around on the man. "I needed time! We both needed time away from each other, unless you forgot!" He snapped, holding up his hand, set fingers still wrapped as it healed. He either didn't care or didn't want the Joker to know he was paying attention to the knife. For all intensive purposes the Joker had his undivided attention.
"You promised." He said darkly," You left me there alone. Not a fucking sign other then a promise to come back. THE NEXT DAY." His voice boomed. Hateful," You had me going for a little bit. I thought you were lying about the whole thing about needing to know about me and also telling them what you knew. Lemme guess you told them my name? Heh?"
"The only one, who knows your name, is me." Bruce said firmly. "Do you want to know what I told the Doctor you killed? I told him you were getting better. I told him I had to be there the next day in case you slipped. Cause I had the crazy idea that you could have walked out of Arkham one day, without leaving a massacre in your wake. He told me to trust you, long enough to get my own head on straight."
At least that was comforting. His whole identity was broken off from Jack's and he wanted to have it FUCKING stay that way. Tossing the knife from one hand to the other he slicked back his hair sloppily with a low chuckle," Bruce, you didn't honestly think I was going to remain in Arkham till the day I died..? Spending what I have of my youth and then my old age on days waiting for you to come see me? No, No. Arkham was my challenge from Bats while my fight was his! I was keeping the balance of everything between me, him, and the people around us even. People Die. Stop being so sentimental about people less then.." He was so tempted to say us. Bruce's arguments reminded him of his rants with the bat.
"Stop being so human." He stepped slowly towards Bruce moving his hands as he spoke," What could you begin to understand about me? I'm not a god so I can't always guess what happens next...but if you want to hear an explanation for what went on between us? Fine. You make me think of Batman. There is no Jack. I was playing fucking games with you and then I happened to have an anxiety break of cabin fever. You just happened to be the little whore that was there...Gee...makes me think of someone...doesn’t it for you?" He asked with dark eyes. Even he believed what he said. After he killed Bruce who was going to be left to have the true story? The shrieking pain in his head made him wince.
Bruce didn't back up, instead he looked almost bored, hands in his pockets. "You like to talk, don't you?"
"Why is it that I'm the crazy one when I'm living the logical way, huh? Tell me that." He winced again. His body felt really cold on the inside and he paused with only a foot between him and Bruce.
He saw the wince. "So you're next logical move is to kill me?" Bruce asked. "Do you really think it's going to shut Jack up?" He could smell the grease paint on the Joker's face, locking eyes with him. "Eventually he'll come back. Have fun with that."
“Shut up. I don't want to hear that name. I have nothing to do with Jack." He growled and clutched the knife tight. What had Bruce done to his head in those past few days? Everything around him felt so distorted. “Killing you…You wouldn’t understand any of my reasons.” His expression got darker and almost hurt.”‘ I needed time’ Time for what?! I was good enough to be around till somehow you randomly needed time? It’s fucked up to make promises you can’t keep! You have a serious problem finishing things Brucey. If you didn’t want to come back you should have told me or just-” He snickered and felt his eyes almost want to water. He was feeling so much and didn’t know where it was coming from. The Joker couldn’t hold it in much longer.
He watched, waiting for the break. All he had to do was push it a little. "If you kill me, you'll kill the humanity I forced you to feel. It's not that hard to figure out your reasons, but it's faulty." It wasn't safe to touch the cornered animal, not yet. "I was coming back. They told me you weren't responding to anything or anyone, I scheduled some time with you tomorrow morning and that's how I found out about today. The police found my name on the visitor’s schedule. But you can't stay still for a fucking second because of Batman! Two months in there and you couldn't even wait a week for me!" He hissed, and it frightened him because it felt like jealously, betrayal. He ran a hand absently through his hair. Maybe he had gone insane after all.
It burned him. Bruce wasn’t different and was just pure fire. His body stopped and he moved the hand with the knife to his head feeling things that normally the Joker blocked back. He wasn’t sorry about killing those people, Killing Rachel, Corrupting Harvey Dent, and anything before that or after. What he was feeling inside just reminded him how dead he was outside right now along with the in,” NO!” His hand shook and he dropped the knife feeling his mind cracking hard in sensitive places. Why is it that he felt like he heard this speech before but with other names? “Agguuuhhh...” He couldn’t hold back the loud choke that escaped him. The laughter was too loud and wanting to make him smile so that all the pain would go away. Cause then…cause then he could go out and find Batman…and then…fire…and….bombs…The Joker dropped down on his knee’s and rocked holding his head. Bruce was right here. Tearing away at him like an animal. “I’m not human! I’m not! Not like you! I’M NOT LIKE YOU!” Just like before. That man was fighting back in him. Screaming for air.
Bruce kicked the knife away before he kneeled on the ground in front of the Joker, grasping the mans face, his hands smeared in greasepaint but he ignored it. 'You're more like me then you'd think,' he wanted to say. The ghoulish mask had a man under it that he knew, he wanted that man back. Smiles without madness and awkward pauses, confusion over shear crazed determination. "Even monsters knew how to feel once." Against all the screaming his voice might have been lost but he doubted it. "Jack remembers."
“He’s dead!” He struggled to get his head away. Too hot. It was too hot! Those hands were fire! He moved out his hands to push Bruce back and away. No doubted smearing his make up with his struggles.
Bruce gritted his teeth, grasping strands of sprayed hair to hold on to. Not allowing the man to run away. 'If I had to break you're coming with me,' he thought viciously.
Those burning hands had moved from his face to his hair now. It was like being encircled with heat. The Joker could hear him but he didn’t want to accept that, but Jack did. Jack could feel those words as he struggled against the monster in him. ‘Bruce. Why do I feel that we are so much alike?’ he thought. His hands moved up and grabbed Bruce’s throat and squeezed,” Stop trying to burn me away, Bruce! I have no humanity! I’m a freak! You don’t know the feeling or a life like that!” He started to shake Bruce by the throat,” You don’t know my life!” His grin fought back against Jack but the Joker was loosing his battle. It wasn’t an insane clown smile of victory that he was going to crush the life out of Bruce’s neck. It was a scared, nervous, lonely and insane man with a deformed face.
The Laughter was fading into a low echo and he growled with water forming in his eyes,” GRIN AND BARE IT!” His eyes stung. Crying? Was he going to cry? Yes…Crying. He’d remembered doing it before when he was Jack. It always hurt the most before you cried. It was a special hurt. A hurt the Joker couldn’t take as his grip on Jack loosened and allowed him to come up from a cold hell for air.’ When did it stop being about the fun and the pain?’ he wondered as tears spilled over and made the black around his eyes run,’ When did this become so emotional and real. Why was Bruce the only real thing?
The grip wasn't deathlike, it still made breathing painful, speaking a nightmare. But it was the small price to pay next to the consequences of staying silent. His fingers tightened in the Joker's hair to the point of biting as he felt those hands squeeze. "I'm not...," breathe in, god dammit breathe in! "...trying to bu...rn you." His head tilted back, trying to relieve the pressure on his Adam’s apple, it didn't help. “Trying to...find...you..." 'Grin and bare it? Jesus Christ!' His fingers, scrambling in their search for oxygen left those dirty green locks to the Joker's face and brush away black paint and tears. A grim smile all he could manage as he coughed, wrapped in the Joker's hands. "...Jack."
The grip slowly loosened. ‘Where am I?’ He sobbed and let go. Now on his hands and knee’s watching little black spatters of fluid drip off his face and on the floor he felt all those truths he wanted to bury rise up in his mind. He was facing his insane wants and needs and confusing them. Batman and Chaos now had a third point in mind being slowly voted in by his body and his real heart. ‘What’s happening to me?’
Bruce fell away coughing and dragging air into his lungs, silently watching the man losing control. The growing pool of black on the floor almost like poison being drawn from the wound. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, balling the material in his hand, a landscape of scars and bruises underneath. He had nothing else in reach, so he used it to clean the tears away, the noises he made to quiet the other man down rough in patches from his near throttling.
He slowly started to take deep breaths but the tears kept coming out. His hands were over his face and then slowly wiped down. He looked at one from his curled up position and looked at the wet mix of color all over the purple leather on his hand.
All the shirt was doing was continuing to smear the paint but not remove it. He let out a frustrated growl and tossed the ruined, pricey shirt aside and grabbed hold of the Joker's elbow, slipping another around the man’s waist, he tried to coax him into standing. "Come on."
There was no resistance. The Joker stood with aid and allowed him to be moved. He was so numb that it was doubtful he was all there.
Bruce steered him back into the bathroom, veering off to the large bathroom attached. He still needed to get Alfred free, but he needed to get the Joker cleaned up first. It was disturbing how pliant he was as he made the Joker sit on the raised surface of the bathtub sides as he searched the cupboards for something useful. Bruce kept make-up remover in the panic room for the black he used but he didn't want to risk leaving the man alone to go and get it, or risk the contents of the panic room being seen. He found a bottle of baby oil instead, not perfect, but it was better then nothing. Grabbing a washcloth he crouched next to the Joker and removed the soiled gloves. Then he worked diligently to remove the paint, using the oil to loosen the paint and wipe it away. Soon he'd switched to a wet rag, sponging away the last remnants that clung to the jagged scars and creases in his forehead.
The entire time while Bruce cleared away the face of the Joker and made his scar’s now less detailed from the paint; his mind was in other places. It had never been so silent in his mind before. Never did he feel this empty that he could remember in such a long, long time. ‘Am I dead?’ He wondered. His face remaining blank but somehow tragic as tears spilled out with no sobs or wails. Silent tears. ‘Its so cold... .’
Bruce combed his hand through the greenish blond locks afterwards almost absently. He'd take care of that later but for now it would have to stay. His hand came down instead to slide down the Joker's face and brush across his scars with a gentle swipe of his thumb. "Jack?"
His face moved with the motion of Bruce's thumb and his eyes closed. No other response.
Even though the Joker sat there in tears, only half of his guise missing, Bruce had the alarming thought that what was sitting before him now was easily nothing more then the empty husk of a man. He hadn't said a word since his outburst and this docility scared Bruce more then he wanted to admit. A large part of him would have considered that as a relief, safety for the people of Gotham, a debt for his sins and the people he'd killed. But the part that was growing in him with each passing second was horrified by the idea. He moved before he knew what he was doing, and no sooner did he have his arms around the Joker's waist he'd pulled the rag doll figure down on the floor with him, effectively onto his lap and into his arms. "Don't do this!" He whispered harshly. "Don't stop fighting now, please."
The movement was so sudden. The coolness in his chest was being heated when Bruce's was against his own. He blinked and looked around over Bruce's shoulder. Looking for maybe reason or something to say. He took in a slow shaky breath,”. Why...so serious..?" He said. Thinking it would confirm Bruce he was at least inside that crazy head someplace.
Bruce laughed, sounding relieved as he held the man closer. "Next time you want to kill yourself, go jump off a building okay? Just...don't do that again." He said firmly, he wouldn't say pleadingly.
Carefully and with obvious nervousness The Joker wrapped his arms around Bruce and ran his finger’s into the soft dark hair. This moment felt fine. He felt fine just fine. “If...I was going to kill myself wouldn’t it make sense to take you with me..?”
"Thanks for the consideration," he said dryly, sounding a bit more like himself now that the worst was over. He closed his eyes as fingers slid into his hair. He had no doubt that they would be the death of each other in the end. Whether like this or as the Joker and Batman, they would be the last thing either one ever saw. It didn't bother him; it was the time before that end that worried him. What could they do with one of them in such a constant war against himself? "Did you really come here to kill me?" He asked.
He buried his face into the crook of Bruce’s neck and pushed against him. The heat of the other’s body was so soothing. All he wanted was to feel good again. “Bruce..” He mumbled and held on to him tight.
Bruce dragged a slow breath into his lungs. Fine, for now he'd leave it alone. Instead he gave the man what he needed. Stroking the back of the others neck in lazy light touches, he dropped his mouth down to kiss the skin exposed by the unbuttoned v of a hexagon collar.
The kiss against his skin made him flush a little. It caused his heart to start to thump hard inside his chest. He wanted to have Bruce. The Jok-…Jack wanted to be completed by him. The fire the man brought always melted the ice on his heart and brought all those natural feelings back. Human things Jack used to know. He lifted his face from Bruce’s shoulder and lightly dragged his bottom lip up his neck and then brushed it along his jaw. When he reached his ear and huskily spoke,” I want you, Bruce.”
It's really all he needs. Hands fist the back of both shirt and vest, he pulls back to look into those green eyes and he sees Jack staring back at him. A curious smile plays over Bruce's lips before he leans in and explores Jack's own twisted grin, breathing in sharply as he sealed their mouths closed with a firm kiss. Still kneeling, he pushed the other backwards until his back met the bathroom wall, bodies meeting at pelvis and hip as he angled to gently hold him there as his hands slowly began to undo the vest buttons, then the shirt that lay beneath it.
No fight. He responded to the kiss with need. He readjusted his hold on the other man while they locked lips. Jack was always nervous but now he wasn’t. Slowly button by button as Bruce began to remove his custom made clothing he relaxed as far as he could before one made love. All his trust was in Bruce now as he was made like a gift to him. Peeling away the gift wrapped shell of the Joker and exposing that who he fully was: Jack Napier. The hand in Bruce’s hair gently pets down his head and along the back of his neck. It traveled down feeling the skin on Bruce’s back and finding the familiar bumps of scars. Why did he have them? Should he worry about them now? No. He let Bruce continue with no interruptions.
As nervous hands played across scars earned as Batman and some as Bruce Wayne from his careless days, he wondered if the man even knew that some of the marks he touched were his own work. He kissed Jack harder, to wash it all away, wipe the slate clean for tonight. As he finished with the buttons he pulled both shirt and vest down to the mans elbows. Leaving Jack trapped and bared at the same time, pinned between the cool tile and Bruce's chest. It was a shock at first, so used to the feeling smooth skin beneath his own when he took a partner to bed. A shudder ran through his body at the odd new tingle of scars gliding against scars.
He felt so exposed now. Was sex always feel so open like this? There was no darkness to hide in. His pale chest rose and fell nice and quick while his lung took deep hungry breaths. As soon as Bruce’s kiss grew harder he parted his lips to let him in. The feeling of the other’s chest rubbing him made his nipples stiffen as arousal began. Already he was starting to stiffen in his pants. While one hand played in soft dark hair the other hand traced the tip of his middle finger and ring finger over a scar that could only have been made by a knife.
Bruce groaned against the welcoming mouth, his tongue swiping hungrily at the warmth inside. But he wanted to see. This was the most he'd been able to divest the man of so far, he'd felt but never seen, and he wanted to see. Pulling back from the kiss, he was panting, eyes glassy but clear enough to see the pale skin mapped in its own marks as his hand reached out to trace, eyes following the path of his fingers as he brushed a nipple with the rough pad of a thumb.
It made his skin jump with desire when the nub was touched. The kiss now broken he was regaining air fast. His scarred face a light red from the rise in body heat. You could tell he was very aroused. Jack couldn’t have wanted this more then anything he could think of. He gave a lusty half-lidded expression up at the other man and then ran his tongue over his own bottom lip giving him a hungry face. Why was he staring at him like that? Was Bruce finally over the edge or something?
Brown eyes flicked up in time to see the look directed at him, a devilish smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth as he bent down and trailed his tongue over raised skin.
A very vocal purr and he started to move his hips against Bruce's as best he could in the position they were in. His body was so eager to be ravished and sweating from the inferno that was Bruce's embrace.
The purr traveled through him and straight to his groin, hips bucking up against Jacks. His breath hot and panting against a pale ear as Bruce's hands slid up Jack’s back and pulled the shirt and vest away for good, fingers relieving the coolness of the wall from his shoulders. "Think we can make it to the bed?" He asked huskily, teeth nipping gently just underneath earlobe
"Anything you want.." He answered. The bed sounded so much better the hard bathroom wall. He attempted to move from the wall and towards the door.
It was odd once they were on their feet again. Both naked to the waist and rumpled, Bruce wasn't sure how they were going to make it to the bed. But not being someone unused to the bedroom, he knew there were a few things that could be taken care of along the way. Like his hands tugging at the belt and zipper of Jacks pinstriped pants as he led him toward the bed and sat down first, pulling Jack down with him.
Things got fast when his belt and zipper were being removed. His heart pounded hard now in his chest and he felt himself twitch at the motions over his erection. He could tell Bruce was a professional at these things...and knew just what to do for everything. It wouldn’t have shocked him if Bruce turned out to have a side table drawer full of condoms and tingling lubricants. Once on the bed he wasted no time attacking Bruce’s neck. His skin had the faint taste of sweat on it. Did he have no air conditioning in that panic room he’d appeared from? His hands were working on Bruce’s lower garments with clumsy speed. He was nervous.
Bruce let out throaty groan and tilted his neck up to that mouth. He was surprised that a man who'd managed to rule his life for weeks as the Joker was suddenly clumsy with what he did. But this wasn't that man, the Joker would have been adept at a quick, mindless fuck. But this was different, with emotions involved and Jack was stumbling, and assurance better then any vocal admission. Bruce let his hands move between them and lace through Jacks to help him undo the hooks and zipper, sighing as his arousal was only confined now in a pair of boxers. But he was more worried with getting Jacks pants off instead of his own. Moving the purple pants and whatever he was wearing underneath down those slim hips.
He grabbed and hooked his fingers into the waistline of Bruce’s pants and boxers. Sitting up he started to work them off. Growing more excited with each bit of skin exposed till his entire body was exposed. Scars. So many scars. Why did he have them? Gun shot scars, Dog bite scars, knife wounds, and some he couldn’t tell. What was it Bruce did for a living again? Then his attention moved and he slid down and ran his hands down along the other man’s hips and upper thighs. Looking at his erection and taking in the size. “..Big.” He said in a small voice. He took it in his hand with a shy way about it licked around the head. The skin was so soft and there was a sticky, sweet, taste about it.
Bruce's hips bucked in response, a hiss escaping through clenched teeth. "Shit!" His cock twitched, fully erect at the sudden attention. His head fell back on the bed as he tried to pull Jack up to him.
Then came resistance. Jack didn’t want to be moved. He wanted to watch Bruce writhe under him. He wasn’t ready to do anything till he got his full visual feel on just how much Bruce wanted him right now. His mouth plunged down and filled with Bruce’s rock hard cock. It was somewhere during this he wondered if his scars could be noticed when he slid his mouth slightly up and down the now slick flesh. Oh- and the fun doesn’t stop there. Jack KNEW how to use his tongue and seemed to have talent at rolling his tongue along the underside. Something that should hint to Bruce that this was not the first time he'd done something like this before.
And Bruce was suddenly not in control of the situation anymore. "Fuck!" He snapped as he felt a ruined mouth take him in to a blistering warmth. The muscles in his legs and stomach corded, going rigid as a hand fisted in those green locks. He started to pant and twitch as a skilled tongue was put into play, eyes closing as he hooked a foot in the crook of Jack's knee and moved his hands over and under those wiry shoulders. All it took was a push back on the chest and a tug with his foot to dislodged and pull Jack to him, not to mention a great deal of will power and tried to roll them over.
He couldn’t believe how quickly and easily he'd been maneuvered from his position. One moment all he’d known to his eyes was Bruce: crying out and grabbing on to him. Feeding of the pleasure Jack was giving to him with his mouth. Then he was on his back with Bruce over him. He licked his bottom lip and smiled,” Too much?” He asked huskily.
Bruce tried to regain his breathing while holding down the grinning man in case he got anymore wicked little ideas set in his mind. He was starting to realize that whatever personality was dominant the other was still actively participating. "Maybe...for the moment. I do want to make it through tonight at least," Bruce tried to joke. "At this point I'm just taping your mouth shut if you freak out again." He swore, both eyes and voice dark as he seized either side of the pants Jack was still wearing and tugged them down sharply.
He turned to look away. Still grinning and still aroused. As his pants moved away you could see boxers under them in festive colors. On his right thigh was a serious knife wound and on the back of his calf it looked like someone had failed an attempt to cut the achilles tendon. Jack moved his arms up so his wrists were over his eyes. He felt strange all over.. Under the boxer’s he was aching.” Bruce..” He moaned.
Bruce made short work of the pants and after raising an eyebrow at the boxers had those on the floor as well. With a small smirk he left the colorful argyle socks alone as he traveled back up and snorted at the sudden inability of Jack's to look at him. During the shaky hands routine he might have believed it but not after he'd felt what that mouth could do moments ago. He reached down between them without fanfare or warning, watching as his hand wrapped around Jack's cock and pumped it once.
His hips jumped at the attention. Those hands over his eyes moved to the sides of his head while it leaned back. Jack groaned and shut his eyes trying to even out his breathing as he felt a horrible urge to force Bruce to move his hand hard and fast till the point of pain came along. He tried to keep his self control. His right hand moved out to hold over Bruce’s while at the same time he parted his legs some. Jack wanted to encourage all possible idea’s to his aching cock.
Bruce took the invitation, lifting his thumb up to swirl the pre-cum glistening at the tip of Jack's cock to use as lubrication and started a slow rhythm that he knew it wouldn't keep the man happy for long. Stroke, pump, his thumb gliding over the throbbing vein. He bent down as he watched the man react and moan, sending shivers down his spine as he traced the long cut across Jack's thigh with burning curiosity. Who the hell had gotten such a good cut on a man who practically slept with a knife on hand? But something else was burning brighter at the moment and Bruce forcibly claimed Jack's lips and he moved their combined hands faster.
Sex was never like this according to Jack’s memory. This was almost the ultimate. He moaned against Bruce’s mouth and rolled his hips with Bruce’s teasing and stroking. “Mmhn..~” He grabbed a handful of dark hair with his free hand and lightly pulled. How much would it take to get Bruce to scream before he lost all sense to pleasure? ‘I want him to push me to the edge. I want him wild.’ He managed to think. His legs moved around Bruce and pulled him down against him. “I..I want…” Jack was nervous to ask for more. The answer he would get made him nervous.
Bruce hissed at the tug and bit down on Jack's lower lip before he was suddenly trapped against that wiry body, bare skin against skin. He'd be lying if he said it was anything but fucking fantastic. He'd never had such a contradictory partner in bed before. Next to Jack's physical actions, his words remained unsure. So despite the fact that Bruce's painful erection was ground into Jack's hip, he gave the other man his complete attention. "What?" He asked breathlessly, kissing the left scar along his face before locking eyes with him. "Tell me what you want." He was prepared to do anything for this man right now, even knowing of the danger in that, he would still do it.
It was delicious and made him worry at about a 5 to 1 scale. It was a doubt in the back of his mind. Still one thing keeping him from- He stared back at the brown eyes gazing down at him. It was like all of his answers were right there. No argument needed with what logic those brown orb’s shown. His breathing was then allowed to grow quick and he pulled Bruce down hard against him and nuzzled his neck,” I want you to fuck me stupid.”
Bruce was crushed without complaint, the bind of limbs and body making his lips part in a wordless moan. He let his eyes fall shut as those words registered, his body going still. His hand gliding down Jack's body in a slow and studying way, as if he committed each curve and dip to memory until he reached one of the lean legs wrapped around his waist. Grasping under the knee he pulled the limb away to free himself. His expression was unreadable, brown eyes overcast with something that Bruce knew well, but he doubted the Joker or even Jack had seen it often enough to name it. He leaned down before the man underneath him could think the worst and brushed a hand over one scarred cheek. "Don't move."
That look-That look that Bruce just gave him. He couldn’t understand it. What was it? It made anxiety creep up his back and then away after a rough hand gently rubbed over his scar’s. He nodded.
Bruce proved Jack's earlier speculations true as he came back from the nightstand with a bottle of lube. Even though his usual bedfellows were female, it didn't make the gesture of painless sex an unwelcome addition. Kneeling between Jack's legs, Bruce coaxed them farther apart as he coated two fingers and slowly probed and pressed in without a novices uncomfortable jabs against any sensitive nerves. Six years out of the public eye had helped hone his training as Batman, but it didn't mean he hadn't indulged in a few other curiosities formed by a previously sheltered life.
The intrusion was always strange when Jack or the Joker ever indulged men willingly as a bottom. Being made love to was acceptance and it was dominance. Bruce taking him was Bruce taking Jack as his. He shuddered as he was entered and he went through the routine of relaxing himself for Bruce. He moaned,” You…want me..?” He asked like he wanted assurance.
Bruce leaned down and kissed him roughly, all need and unchecked passion for a long moment before he reigned it in again. Breathing hard he locked eyes with Jack. "Yes."
“Then…do it to me.” He said,” Fucking tear me apart.” Jack said with obvious hunger in his voice. Ready. It didn’t matter if Bruce hurt him! Besides it didn’t matter when Bruce hurt him because hurt always led to pleasure in the end. He still needed that extra edge.
And here, Bruce hesitated. Rough sex he'd had before, even angry sex that bordered on the point of safety words. But Jack...he wanted pain with pleasure, something it seemed was not singular to the Joker. So even as his moral ground shuddered and a primal part of him stirred, Bruce hesitated. Slipping his fingers out, he set the lube aside and bent Jacks knees up to his chest and positioned himself. "Take a breath," he said before he thrust in hard enough to see stars for a moment.
A loud cry almost bordering a scream as Bruce shoved himself inside Jack. Yes it hurt. ‘A good hurt!’ he thought to himself when his mind returned from wherever pain made him fade into. He reached up over his head and grabbed on to the bed sheets. “Go…don’t wait…” He wanted to enjoy the hurt till it met that point of being undistinguishable from pleasure before switching over to just pure pleasure.
Bruce didn't argue, knowing how much more it would hurt otherwise. The scream, the pleasure and pain mixed in with the first breach made his stomach roll but pitched his senses onto a whole new level at the same time. He pulled back and thrust in again, nearly dry and let out a sympathetic gasp of pain as he did, but he didn't stop.
“Ahhhnn!” He looked like he was suffering. Of course you could tell it was at first real suffering then slowly rolled into good suffering. He was tearing at the sheets over his head as Bruce fucked him hard. “Y-Yes.” He watched Bruce over him and smiled. Admiring his handsome face and body and memorizing him and how he moved and sounded as he took his pleasure for Jack’s body. If things could only be like this always. One of the hands tearing into the sheets let go and reached up to grab one of Bruce’s strong shoulders. ‘What…are you thinking..?’ Was Jack’s last rational thought before his prostate was hit against. He screamed.
The screams tore at his ears, and finally Bruce couldn't take it anymore. Hooking Jack's knees over his shoulders, he drove in deeper and leaned down to swallow the scream in a kiss. Sliding his hands underneath Jack's shoulders he held on and pulled the other man into each thrust, aiming and striking that point that would make it all wash over the brink of pain and into something else entirely. Breathing harshly through his nose, Bruce would not release those distorted lips, not for the world. If nothing else so he didn't have to hear the screams as every thrust racked his body with raw heat and pleasure.
He had no sense left in his head. All he could process was Bruce and that mixed feeling he was making inside him. His face was in pure ecstasy and he could barely concentrate on kissing back. His toes spread inside his socks and he felt his cock throb with each hit to his prostate. “Mhf..!” Both arms moved around Bruce’s’ neck. They were so tightly wound together; Melted as one.
Air, he needed air. Pulling away from the kiss, he had enough control over his body long enough to see the change on Jack's face before he buried his face into the crook of a neck. Shit, he was close! His body tightened, the heat building to almost unbearable temperatures as he reached between them, the sweat slick of their skin making it easier as he grasped Jack's cock and started to beat a frantic rhythm along with the way Bruce was pounding into him. A string of fluent curse words and senseless murmurs spilled from Bruce's lips as they got closer, closer.
It was like bolt of lightening. “B..Bruce…Hhaannhh!!” His back arched and he fought for air as he felt himself spill his white hot seed into Bruce’s hand. All his toes curled up tight along with all his other muscles. This was when Bruce’s thrusts hurt the most. When his insides tensed around Bruce good and tight the erratic thrusting felt like a hot knife cutting through him. It was a genuine hurt enough to bring tears to his eyes again.
Bruce came hard a few thrusts later, each one lancing through him until he finally tipped over the edge and bit down on a scream. His body shudders before the shockwaves finally subside and he collects enough sense in the aftermath to realized he's crushing the body underneath him. He quickly propped himself up, hand and stomach sticky as he looked down at the total opposite of what he'd expected. "Jack?" He asked with concern, taking in the pained green eyes brimmed with tears.
He was catching his breath and getting over the tears slowly. His legs where quivering once Bruce finished and he put his arms around him to pull him down again over him stroking his hair,” It was good...it’s okay...” He chuckled and then turned his face away to look at the door,” Do you think he heard?” If he recalled right he tied a certain butler down to a chair and gagged him. No telling if he had heard the screams and moaning.
"Who?" Bruce asked, brain still faintly foggy as he tried to soothe Jack's body from the heavy handling. A moment later it clicked. "Oh shit!" His forehead falling heavily on Jack's chest, Alfred was going to kill him. "If he didn't hear me, he definitely heard you. I think the whole building heard you."
He laughed. No doubt the old man was blushing or fuming over the situation at hand. Jack looked at Bruce still smiling,” Go, I’ll be right here.”
Bruce eyed him for a moment before cupping his jaw. "Don't leave." It was a request as he kissed Jack before rolling out of bed and grabbing a pair of sweats to pull on. He had the foresight to at least move into the bathroom long enough to clean off his hand and stomach, he didn't need to give Alfred more ammo then the man was already efficiently equipped with at the moment.
Jack didn’t move from the position he was in. Leave? Where did he have to go other then some abandoned building? No, No, No. That wasn’t going to do when this bed felt sooooooooooo good. He laid still watching Bruce pull on some clothing, run in the bathroom, and then run out again and towards the door. A slow smirk came on his face.
Bruce tried to tame his wild hair as he walked out into the hallway, spotting his own soiled shirt and the Joker's knife on the floor. He absently kicked the shirt into the bedroom and shut the door as he took the knife with him. They'd practically been shouting at the tops of their lungs in the hallway like a bad case of domestic violence. This was going to be interesting. "Alfred?" He called out calmer then he had before and heard a muffled shouting come from the kitchen. When he found the butler he was quite the sight. The Joker must not have planned to find Alfred here because he'd used a kitchen rag to gag the man and a power cord ripped from some poor appliance to bind him to a chair. From the look he was getting it was probably best to take the gag off last.
Once Bruce was out of sight Jack sat up in the bed and winced. His lower half ached. Sliding his hand down his body and between his thighs he felt around lightly before bringing his hand up to see the damage. Three fingers with semen and blood on them. He was going to have to clean that or it’d be horrible later. His mind switched modes then and he looked around the room. What a nice room. He never had a nice room before. Then he stood up and walked to the door listening for sounds. What was Bruce doing again?
It took very quick work with the knife to get Alfred free, he regretted the speed when his once upon a time guardian began talking in a brisk tone. "I believe you've taken the phrase 'you've made your bed now sleep in it' a little too literally, Master Bruce. Though sleeping is hardly what I'd call the sounds I heard." Bruce had the decency to blush before he set the knife on the counter.
"Alfred...you don't understand." He ran a hand over his face, suddenly feeling the hours he'd spent out on patrol. "It's complicated."
"Well then allow me to uncomplicate it, sir." Alfred said, catching Bruce's attention with a furrowed brow. "The Joker breaks out of Arkham, taking no less then thirty lives in the process, then goes off to kill some poor bloke who thought he was doing the world a favor. And to finish it off, he comes here to kill you. Simple enough for you?" Alfred asked. Bruce held up his hands irritably.
Bruce reigned in his temper, running a hand through his hair that after being messed around with by Jack's fingers refused to lie flat. "Look, something happened that I can't explain, all right. Back in Arkham and now here, I think he can change, he's already starting to, he didn't do anything more then tie you up Alfred." His mind was grasping at straws, he had no idea why he'd pushed all the Joker's past evils aside for Jack. It was too easy to forget when he had the man in his arms. Alfred watched him silently before sighing, looking tired and old in that moment.
"Then I'll continue to simplify things, shall I? The hard truth is, Master Wayne. That all wrongs, even the ones we could never hope to forgive, seem justifiable if it keeps the ones we love near us." He said grimly.
The arguments where very hard to hear but Jack could tell the old man wasn’t pleased with whatever Bruce told to him. He opened the door and prowled out partially. Snickering came to mind. Snickering and little burns of curiosity as burning green eyes scanned around. He approached the corner so he was just out of sight to listen in more. If he was going to be talked about he was going to be there to hear it! No one would be there to defend him. No one ever did. His lower half ached again.
He turned his head some looking down. The mess was going down the back of his thighs and starting to dry, Messy. A strange mood swing of anger then worry hit him. When he looked back at the strong tone the older man was using. Why was Bruce taking that from some butler? He stared at the expression on Bruce’s face and frowned some. Was that Butler an important person? A strange bout of Jealously sparked in Jack’s heart when the Butler mentioned the word love. It was then he put on the Joker’s grin and stare and came out around the corner laughing in a monotone,” Oh jeeves…Don’t give him such a hard time..”
Bruce was speechless by Alfred's words, that couldn't be the explanation. Whatever thoughts he had on the subject would have to be saved for later musings when a familiar voice did not herald the approach of Jack. Bruce had his back to the hallway, but judging by Alfred's sudden flicker of shock which quickly turned to stern disapproval on a appropriateness level instead of a moral one, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Just putting things in perspective as it were," Alfred said calmly, a cold tinge to his words but not as much as Bruce would have expected. He turned to say something to the man who'd just made his presence known and let out a noise of pure frustration over the nude figure before pinching the bridge of his nose. He was too tired to deal with this.
“No, you were being a prick.” Jack said in his Best-Joker-In-The-World voice. He came up behind Bruce and put his hands on each of his shoulder’s smiling still,” Why make perspective out of something as simple as sex?” He moved his arms around Bruce’s neck. The possessive body language might get across to Bruce that he didn’t like the butler so much. He stuck out his tongue,” Go clean something.”
Bruce grasped the other mans slim hips hard. "Jack, cut it out!' He snapped, suddenly. Alfred seemed to start at the idea that the Joker had a name, but Bruce ignored it. He didn't have the patience for this game, not right now. "Alfred is not just hired help and after tying him up the least you can do is cut the crap for about ten minutes," he said, though his tone was gentler then the words were as he searched those green eyes, begged him to act like a human for someone other then Bruce. He wanted Alfred to see the reason.
He looked at Bruce, then to the butler, then back. His smile didn’t fade and he cocked a brow. “I think he should be counting his blessings.” Then he held on to Bruce tighter.
Bruce sighed. "Alfred, can you excuse us for a second?" He asked. When he got no response, Bruce looked at the Butler with an almost pleading look. "Please?"
Alfred looked incredibly torn about leaving his master alone with a madman, but he finally resigned himself to it and nodded. "I'll be just in the other room." He assured, making it sound like a warning to the Joker as well as he walked out.
Bruce's dark eyes were sharp when they snapped back to Jack as he extracted himself from the mans naked limbs. "Care to explain?"
He put his hands behind his head like he was trying to pose or something. His smile still didn’t fade,” Why are you taking guff from an old man? You look like some sad puppy...” His smile grew and he turned away walking back for the bedroom,” I don’t see any reason to let him talk to you like that…when you’ve got me.”
"Because Alfred raised me," Bruce said without explanation or apology. He was going to go on until Jack turned around and he clearly saw the blood running down the back of his pale legs. Looking down at the floor there was a small trail of blood drops that he'd left in his wake. Bruce had been so caught up with everything and getting Alfred out that he hadn't taken the time to make sure Jack had really been all right. He felt his stomach heave as he walked up behind Jack and laid a hand gently placed a hand on his ass. "And he understands what's going on between the two of us better then I do."
He paused at the touch. His body froze up at the explanation. Anger welled up and he turned looking at Bruce darkly,” It’s none of his business and I should kill him.” He then turned his face into a scowl,” Why does he need to understand it? Why does it need understanding?”
Bruce's face was calmer in comparison. "Because I needed one. He told me what I needed to hear," he said and curved his arm around a bare waist, careful of the blood as he tried to lead them back into the bedroom. "Come on, let’s get you cleaned up."
He let Bruce lead him pouting. Then he sped up his walking and then rushed into the bed room and jumped under the cover’s,” Nooo! I’m staying here.” He whined.
Bruce blinked. Arms full of Joker one moment and staring a large lump under the bed covers the next. It would have been funny if the petulant act wasn't grating on his nerves. "You're bleeding!" He snapped irritably. "You can get back in the bed after I've looked at you."
"I'm fine!" He barked.
"Fine," Bruce growled. Turning on his heel towards the bathroom he came back moment later with a first aid kit and a wet cloth in hand. He didn't even give Jack fair warning before he ripped the sheet back to get at him.
He turned and moved to start a crawl that would turn into a run. No way was he going to get cleaned up right now! Not while he was aggravated by that stupid nosy butler! " Hey!" He cried and attempted an escape.
Bruce was having none of it and pinned him down. "Lay still or I'll force feed you the valium they gave me for my hand." He warned.
He struggled," I don't want you to! Its fine! It doesn’t even hurt!"
"Really?" He asked, unconvinced and ground Jack's hips and ass back into the bed.
"Nnh..!!" He bit into his lip. It sort of stung and ached but it wasn’t that bad.
Bruce sighed. "Turn over, at least let me clean away the blood."
A growl but he obeyed.
The little display made Bruce smirk but he quickly got to work by coaxing Jack to spread his legs wider as he ran the warm washcloth over the backs of his legs and inner thighs, cleaning away semen and blood and the general grit and dirt the man had accumulated since his escape from Arkham. He even spread the cheeks gently to clean away any clotted blood and check for any severe damage left behind.
It made his face flush and his heart thump hard in his chest. Was this what it was like to be embarrassed again? It was kind of like being dunked in a pool of hot water. Jack moved his arms and buried his face into them. Not wanting Bruce to notice the emotion across his face. He had no serious damage. Just dirty from hard and very rough sex. He mumbled something into the bed.
"Missed that," Bruce quipped as he moved his attention back down those legs, his weary eyes noticing that the sun was finding a permanent spot in the sky now. "Want to repeat that?" He asked setting the cloth and kit aside.
"...It was nothing." He said waiting to be told he could move.
Bruce ran a curious finger over the scar so close to the achilles, but at the dodge he finally gave up and let himself flop onto the bed next to Jack. "If you say so," he said tiredly.
A yawn. Jack turned over on to his back and stretched his arms over his head. The escape, the killings, the running, and then the sex had worn down the man. He closed his eyes and went still. “It felt good. Will we get to do it again?” He asked softly.
Bruce glanced over at his strange bedfellow as sleep took him. Too tired for riddles, deception and lies, too tired to care if the Joker would snap back in vivid reality and slit Bruce's throat while he slept. Bruce reached across the small space between them and rubbed the end of one green strand until the blond started to shine through. He smiled. "I hope so."
“Go to sleep. “ He whispered. The smile slowly looking like it was dying to relax. Another yawn, and then nothing else.