What Happens In Arkham...Part 15
Title: What happens In Arkham...Part 15
Authors: knives99 and heatherhouse .
Fandom: Batman; Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman(Bruce)/The Joker
Rating: R
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, Prescription drug use.
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.
A/N: 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.
P.S.: knives99 and I are so sorry it took us this long to post again. We have the chapters finished we just had to have the time to edit it and work kept us both busy and apart for a while. But we're back and hope you all forgive us and enjoy the new chapter.
Broken, bleeding, and burning with guilt. Jack walked exhaustedly to the pent house. He already assumed they knew he was gone. Part of him wanted to run away from what Bruce would say to him. The other part just wanted to be held and not feel so strange. Why? Why couldnít he kill? Bruce. Bruce Wayne had corrupted his love for the dark knight! He wanted to hate him but his heart wouldnít let him. Bruce had imprinted himself on his heart. His bloody hand mashed the button of the comm to the pent house. In a hoarse voice he asked,î Alfred? Are you awake?î
Alfred was up and waiting for the younger man with a look that was caught somewhere between relief and disappointment. "Decided to come back then, I see." The butler said in a cold monotone. He took in the sight of blood all over the younger man and sighed. His voice was tired now. "I hope it was worth it, lad." He said before moving towards Jack. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Jack hugged Alfred around the neck tight enough to almost crush the older man's throat. He shivered and whispered on a near sob. "Please...Please..." He choked out a painful sob and tears spilled down on to Alfred's coat. "I...I can't see him...I am scared..." He begged. He buried his face into Alfred's throat and cried hard.
Alfred was shocked at first. He'd expected some cold or even dismissive remark in response, but not even Jack's childish behavior over the last few weeks had prepared him for the man to cling on and cry to him. After a moment, as the shock of it started to wear off, he reached up to touch the mans back. "Jack...did you kill anyone?" He asked quietly.
"He hates me now....because I left...because I'm bad.." He pushed the older man back into the elevator to get to the top of the penthouse. He let go and sat down in the corner with his legs curled under him. "...Why....Why am I....weak?" Blood, dirt, sweat, and grime made his hair and face dirty. His cloths were ruffled. And the bruises forming on his body made him stiffer. It was if he were posing. Yet, he was in his own little world, terrified of his punishment with Bruce. Nothing else. Nothing could make him tremble more at the idea of what he could have destroyed tonight. His head was down and he was silent. Tears dripped down his face and landed on the steel floor of the elevator.
With his head down he looked like a wounded animal, his hands close against his body, his entire thin frame shaking, and he giggled into silent sobs. The slowly went silent again. He wrapped up in a little ball with his back to the wall.
The blood ran freely from his mouth and lumps on his face and head. He grabbed two handfuls of blond hair and tugged on it anxiously. His body curled into itself and he whimpered. "I...I don't want him...to be mad..." His gravelly hoarse voice whispered.
Alfred didn't, couldn't refuse the mans movements. Stepping back into the elevator, he made sure no one had seen the young mans entrance or his present break down before slipping the card in the panel. The doors pinged but did nothing to drown out Jack's whimpering words. He sighed and turned to crouch by the sniveling child of a man, cuddled up to himself like he'd expect another beating on top of the one he'd already soundly received. "If you'd have thought of the consequences before running off, then Bruce wouldn't return home tonight angry. You broke a very important promise, Jack." He said but despite his words, tried to soothe the creature that could snap at him any moment with sharp teeth rather then nod understandingly.
Lifting his head and looking at Alfred, his face was full of innocent child-like guilt, but somewhere deep inside those wild flaming green orbs was a burning fire. Apparently, from the look in his eyes, he wanted to infect someone with the same passionate desire. "Return?" Tears trailed down his face and he blinked at Alfred. "He is not here? He...he is out there?"
Alfred nodded, touching Jack's head like anyone would to soothe a distraught child. "He went to look for you when we realized you'd run off." He explained calmly. "But he'll be back shortly. Just enough time to get you cleaned up somewhat." He assured as the door dinged open and Alfred tried to lead Jack into the penthouse.
They ended up limping together until they came across a couch. Jack collapsed on it and panted heavily as he recovered from the explusition of energy to get there. He look at Alfred pleadingly a moment, and then laid down on the couch and sobbed. "I'm not perfect. It doesn't matter right?" He thought aloud. He grabbed his head and writhed. "So...hot...So many voices...so many emotions...I'm tingling."
Letting Jack sink into the couch, he sighed and patted the mans shoulder. "No one's perfect, lad." He replied but doubted the man even heard him. His brow furrowed at the new round of babbling though. "I'll get you some water and something to clear your thoughts up." He promised as he moved for the kitchen. He knew Bruce had sworn off Valium for the troubled man but Alfred was sure it would do Jack a world of good right now.
Taking the pills was what started this hell in the first place. When Alfred returned and approached Jack with water and the pills he glared at the butler. "I'm in pain! I need it." Jack felt like he was suffocating. And then suddenly his breathing slowed and he closed his eyes. Fainting from a shift in blood pressure from the stress he was under.
It was blessing for both parties that unconscious was how Bruce found Jack when he arrived. The vigilante was still riled up from his little street cleaning and had half a mind to tear into the man responsible for tonightís fiasco. But finding him passed out and badly beaten stopped Bruce in his tracks, replaying the scene from the Narrows in his mind in vivid colors. Sighing, he shocked Alfred who hadn't noticed Bruce's return as he moved forward to scoop Jack up in his arms. "Master Bruce, are you..." Bruce just shook his head tiredly. "I've got him, Alfred. You can turn in for the night." He said dismissively as he carried Jack to the bedroom, aware of the old mans eyes on him the whole time.
Completely limp in Bruce's arms Jack looked troubled in his sleep, his brow furrowing. In his body fit perfectly snug in Bruce's arms, and he bounced slightly with each step. Then his lips started working and he uttered,î Bruce..."
Jack's eyes began to leak tears again and he inhaled sharply in his sleep at the pain he was feeling. Hahahahahaha...It hurts. Why? Silently he turned in and curled more into Bruce as he was carried.
Bruce tensed slightly as he felt the man start to wake. He could see from the low lighting in the bedroom how the blood was drying on in unseemly places on the broken planes of Jack's face. He set the beaten body on top of the sheets and sighed as he sat beside Jack and brushed the blond hair aside that hadn't been tainted with flecks of red yet.
Blond eyebrows raised and he turned his face into the touch, subconsciously searching out the feeling and exploring it. The madman was in pain but you could tell he wasn't suffering. So the damage done could be severe or not. A little blood was still running from his head and his breathing was a little wheezy.
Running a hand down the scarred cheek, Bruce moved to fetch the first aid kit. But once he reached the bathroom he had to stop and look at himself. This wasn't who Bruce had set out to be. This wasn't the life he'd planned to create. Jack was slipping in and out of a quickly descending state of paranoia and violence. Today was the bad day, but how much longer could Bruce keep praying for a good one? His eyes fell on the bottle of Valium Alfred had opened earlier. He could slip one in between Jack's teeth and keep the man under for a good six hours at best. It wouldn't even take half that time to have him secured in a cell back at Arkham.
Jack stirred from the bed and sat up. Once he was sitting up right he opened his eyes and got a view of the dimly lit room. He groggily pulled off his shirt and let it hang sloppily on his arms. His face was puffy from crying and the beating he'd taken. Instead of calling for his lover, he laid back down and tossed the shirt to the floor. Then he pulled the pillow to the bed over his head and whimpered. The voices were still clawing at the back of his mind, the guilt still making him burn all over. A muffled sob echoed in the room.
Bruce stared at himself in the mirror for a few minutes, trying to see just who he was in this moment. Was he the vigilante who would finally do what was right, or Jack's lover whose only job was to take care of the tormented maniac? He flinched at his own reflection and turned away from it. He was the coward tonight. Taking the kit from a drawer he moved back into the bedroom and paused in the doorway at the sound of crying. He shut the bathroom door for Jack's benefit, so he knew Bruce was there now.
Hearing the door shut, he at least registered the fact someone was in the room with him. He forced himself out from under the pillow and stared at Bruce, standing at the door to the bathroom. He pulled his legs up and held them against his chest. "...I can't do this.." He whispered after a moments silence. "I want it to end. I just want it all to stop." A voice spoke thought his mind sharply causing his eyes to dilate for a moment as he answered it. "Batman is waiting for me..." Then he brought his hands to his head and covered his ears. He sniffled and tears dripped down and got caught in the grooves of his scars. He made a very tiny cry of pain and laid on his side awkwardly on the bed. He struggled to keep the tears from coming.
Anger rose up in his stomach too hot and fast for him to control before his lips curled in a sneer and his eyes narrowed. "Is that who you were out there looking for, Jack?" He didn't raise his voice. But the coldness in his tone didn't need volume, only that dead silence to slice in like a butterfly knife.
Taking a deep breath through his nose he looked at Bruce directly again and licked at his scars on reflex. "I wasn't looking for him...it wasn't me...it wasn't even my idea...I just was...compelled."
Bruce tensed slightly as he felt the man start to wake. He could see from the low lighting in the bedroom how the blood was drying on in unseemly places on the broken planes of Jack's face. He set the beaten body on top of the sheets and sighed as he sat beside Jack and brushed the blond hair aside that hadn't been tainted with flecks of red yet.
Blond eyebrows raised and he turned his face into the touch, subconsciously searching out the feeling and exploring it. The madman was in pain but you could tell he wasn't suffering. So the damage done could be severe or not. A little blood was still running from his head and his breathing was a little wheezy.
Running a hand down the scarred cheek, Bruce moved to fetch the first aid kit. But once he reached the bathroom he had to stop and look at himself. This wasn't who Bruce had set out to be. This wasn't the life he'd planned to create. Jack was slipping in and out of a quickly descending state of paranoia and violence. Today was the bad day, but how much longer could Bruce keep praying for a good one? His eyes fell on the bottle of Valium Alfred had opened earlier. He could slip one in between Jack's teeth and keep the man under for a good six hours at best. It wouldn't even take half that time to have him secured in a cell back at Arkham.
Jack stirred from the bed and sat up. Once he was sitting up right he opened his eyes and got a view of the dimly lit room. He groggily pulled off his shirt and let it hang sloppily on his arms. His face was puffy from crying and the beating he'd taken. Instead of calling for his lover, he laid back down and tossed the shirt to the floor. Then he pulled the pillow to the bed over his head and whimpered. The voices were still clawing at the back of his mind, the guilt still making him burn all over. A muffled sob echoed in the room.
Bruce stared at himself in the mirror for a few minutes, trying to see just who he was in this moment. Was he the vigilante who would finally do what was right, or Jack's lover whose only job was to take care of the tormented maniac? He flinched at his own reflection and turned away from it. He was the coward tonight. Taking the kit from a drawer he moved back into the bedroom and paused in the doorway at the sound of crying. He shut the bathroom door for Jack's benefit, so he knew Bruce was there now.
Hearing the door shut, he at least registered the fact someone was in the room with him. He forced himself out from under the pillow and stared at Bruce, standing at the door to the bathroom. He pulled his legs up and held them against his chest. "...I can't do this.." He whispered after a moments silence. "I want it to end. I just want it all to stop." A voice spoke thought his mind sharply causing his eyes to dilate for a moment as he answered it. "Batman is waiting for me..." Then he brought his hands to his head and covered his ears. He sniffled and tears dripped down and got caught in the grooves of his scars. He made a very tiny cry of pain and laid on his side awkwardly on the bed. He struggled to keep the tears from coming.
Anger rose up in his stomach too hot and fast for him to control before his lips curled in a sneer and his eyes narrowed. "Is that who you were out there looking for, Jack?" He didn't raise his voice. But the coldness in his tone didn't need volume, only that dead silence to slice in like a butterfly knife.
Taking a deep breath through his nose he looked at Bruce directly again and licked at his scars on reflex. "I wasn't looking for him...it wasn't me...it wasn't even my idea...I just was...compelled."
"Compelled to do what? Get yourself killed?" He demanded, getting closer to the bed. "Do you have any idea how long I was looking for you? I thought you'd gone out to pick up your old habits, Jack. You promised me you'd stay in the penthouse." Bruce hadn't realized just how worried he'd been. What they were had been balanced on the edge of a knife tonight and they just barely made it through because for some reason Jack had stopped.
Jack stared at Bruce, lost and confused, and slowly that stare became a hurt frown. "I..I didn't..." He stood up to face Bruce on his feet incase the man threw himself at him they'd both land on something soft when they began to fight. "I DIDN'T. I was so close." Something about the way Jack was looking at Bruce was becoming quickly frightening. He grinned manically despite the constant flow of tears down his cheeks. "I could have killed that thug. And another person. And another person. And then another person. And then within a few hours I'll have collected enough souls to tip the balance and get his attention." His stare drifted and his eyes dilated and the strange tone to his voice faded and went soft as he choked out a sob.
"But I find that...these days with you here.." The evil smile faded and he broke down into his hands. "You've tainted me with your fiery light!" He sniffled and looked up at Bruce again. "You've done what all the best doctors in Arkham, the police, and innocent could not." Jack clawed at the spot on chest and dug his nails in, cringing. "I can feel it inside of here. The still indifference, broken. I...I've found some type of humanity inside the walls of your lonely world."
Bruce didn't move, he didn't utter a word as he saw the Joker start to surface in his lovers face, the way he spoke as if killing was a artful, heady process. But he felt himself get colder, wondering if the first aid kit would word as a bludgeoning tool if the man suddenly became violent. The coward and the fool was what Bruce was tonight and Jack was just showing him what Alfred had been begging him to see all along. He'd had hope when Jack had stopped in the Narrows. Then he sobbed and Bruce's eyes focused suddenly. He was dumbstruck by the change for a moment. It was when Jack started to hurt himself that Bruce darted forward and grabbed the mans thin wrists. "Jack, don't!" He snapped out of instinct and held him securely. He pulled the man to his chest, locking eyes with Jack's frantic ones. "It's okay." He soothed quietly. He reached up to card his fingers through Jack's hair. "You're home, it's all right."
Being pulled close, Jack stared up at the wall behind Bruce. "No its not." He sobbed and buried his face into Bruce's muscular chest. "He is waiting for me. What if he came looking for me?"
Bruce closed his eyes, resting his chin on Jack's head. "He won't find you here. He'll never find you here, I promise." He soothed.
Jack blinked and looked up at Bruce, giving him a curious look. "Bruce.." His face flushed lightly and his face was still swollen and wet from his tears. He wrapped his arms around Bruce's neck and watched him watching him. "I broke a promise to you...I shouldn't have acted on my impulses. It's just...so hard with all the voices."
He looked down and grasped Jack's chin, careful of all the cuts and bruises. "Did you kill anyone tonight, Jack?" It was a serious question, not an accusation. But because Bruce couldn't admit to knowing the answer it had to come from Jack's own lips.
His jaw quivered and he shook his head. "No."
Bruce nodded, something in his chest loosening. "All right." He pulled back enough to make Jack sit down on the bed. "Then lets get you cleaned up and get some sleep, okay?"
Smiling a little he looked Bruce in the eye. His hand lifted and he caressed his lover's cheek. "I'll be okay.." This wasn't true though. The blood and dirt on his skin was very apparent.
Bruce gave him a meaningful look and pushed the stubborn man down on the bed. "Not if the cuts get infected." His tone was not to be argued as he shrugged off the suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves to take care of Jack's battered face and body.
Jack was bare beside his pants and damp shoes and socks. He stared at Bruce and continued to cry silently. His ribs were badly bruised and his temple was bleeding. "No! I don't want to be treated.." He turned over on his stomach to block Bruce from touching the injuries.
"Jack." He snapped, trying to grab the man and hold him still but not use so much force that Jack tried to fight him. "Just hold still for a few minutes."
Pushing himself up he tried to crawl, but it caused his ribs to ache from the bruising. Reaching out he vainly grabbed a handful of bed linen and pulled it down hard. "But.." He argued.
"But what?" Bruce asked angrily, letting go because he sure as hell wasn't going to chase the man around the bed. "What reason could you possibly have for not wanting to be patched up?"
Jack turned around and face Bruce by looking down between his legs at the end of the bed. "...Fine."
Bruce tilted his head, raising a brow at Jack's angle and wrapped his hand around the mans ankle, tugging his leg out from under him. "Good." He stated flatly. "Now come back here and sit down."
Jack willingly sat still, his legs jumping anxiously under him as he allowed Bruce to treat his pains. While Bruce treated him he finally stopped crying, he stared back at Bruce as he was examined. Then as he was treated he noticed Bruce was still wearing his dress shirt. Blushing he reached out and began unbuttoning the other man's clothes, despite if he got in the way or not. "...you need less clothes." He commented and then sniffled.
"Stop that." Bruce said and pushed Jack's hands away as he was trying to clean a cut on Jack's forehead. "I'm trying to do something."
But Jack insisted. He undid another button the second he had the chance to do it again. "Bruce.." He muttered and gave a wanting look to his boyfriend.
The look in Jack's eyes was what made the vigilante pause. The brush of fingers as his clothes were tugged at reminded him of all the aborted moments in the last week where he'd been all too aware oh how Jack had felt rejected. So he didn't argue as the man started to unbutton his shirt again.
Once Jack had Bruce's shirt open he ran his fingers over the scarred muscular chest. It was warm, soft, and bumpy with scars and muscle. Jack looked up into Bruce's eyes again and cocked head. "...I..I really didn't kill anyone...your voice was in my mind..."
He watched the path of Jack's fingers before meeting those green eyes. "I believe you." He said with the quiet confidence of knowing. Bruce cupped his hand against Jack's cheek and tilted his head up to kiss his lover gently.
Kissing him back he wrapped his thin arms around Bruce and pulled him to laying on top of him. He made the kiss deeper and forced his way into the other man's mouth. "Mmm.." Jack loved the rich flavorful taste that lingered on the playboy's tongue. Shifting under Bruce he spread his legs and urged their hips to meet. He groaned when his bruised ribs ached. The pain only made his loins stir further into life.
Bruce braced his arms against the bed as they went down, keeping his full weight off the smaller man. He was distracted by the way Jack's tongue tried to work it's way inside his mouth and opened up for it, tongue colliding and wrestling against each other as Bruce groaned. He grasped a thigh and hiked it up from the bed to grind against Jack fully. Pulling back, it was all a flurry of motion then. Pulling back to undo Jack's pants and yank them down, taking the sneakers off in the same motion as he tossed them away and slammed his mouth back down against Jack's hungrily.
In a desperate move, Jack grabbed Bruce and flipped them on the bed. He sat astride Bruce's thighs, hunched over, kissing him rough enough that both of them would have a swollen lips. His hips ground down against him, again he groaned with pain, but it felt just to good to stop. His hands started to undo the other man's pants, but he didn't have enough patience for removing them or going to get the lube. With a growl he nipped Bruce's lower lip hard and pulled back. He worked Bruce out of his pants and boxers through the hole in them and stroked slowly to make his cock stiff. With hooded eyes he stared down at his mate. A little blood was still running down his face.
Finding himself on his back with Jack hovering over him should have been some kind of warning sign, set off alarms to throw a punch. Instead he gripped a handful of Jack's hair and fought back against the bruising kiss. He growled when Jack pulled away, ready to yank the blond back down when those hands started to work his pants open impatiently. Bruce groaned, bucking his hips up to hurry Jack along and grunted once those long fingers wrapped around him. Bruce grit his teeth and bucked up into that those slow strokes. It didn't take long to get him hard and while Jack was preoccupied and Bruce still had some sense left he rolled them again and started to rut into the mans hand. He wasn't going to fuck the man with his pants and boxers still on, so he shoved Jack's hands away to quickly kick his own clothes off.
The clown bristled sensing the violence in his lover and he grew even more excited, he throbbed painfully both between his legs and his ribs. Once pants and boxers were gone, Jack tried to take control again. Sticking three fingers into his mouth he began to suckle on them to get them wet. He watched Bruce below him with dilated eyes. His free hand started to tease Bruce's cock with feather light touches. Then when the digits were wet enough he sat up on his knees in his straddle on the billionares lap. With a mewling sound he pushed two fingers inside himself and began to scissor them apart. His head leaned back, his golden curls tickling his sweat slick neck. His cock twitched and stood at attention in Bruce's vision, paitently waiting for attention from either of them.
Jack took advantage of Bruce's time stripping. He laid back on the bed and spread his legs, then he sucked his fingers till they were wet enough. Putting his hand between his legs, he gave Bruce an excellent show of preparing himself. He purred and watched Bruce with a predatory look in his eyes. "Rrr..." He bared his yellow teeth playfully. Grabbing his own cock he stroked at the same time he fingered himself and his hips bucked into his own hand. "Mmm.." He watched Bruce and grinned
Bruce watched the way he laid himself out on display, opened himself for the playboy and felt his heart do double time in his chest. He quickly moved back over to claim his lips and swallow the groans as Jack worked himself. Reaching down, he cupped his hand around Jack's and made him push those fingers deeper inside himself.
He tensed only for a second before he gave a mewl of delight, his inner muscle stimulated from naturally clenching. Jack nipped at Bruce's lips and made the kiss as passionate as he could, as if he thought this wouldn't last forever or even the night. It almost felt like it was the last time. It made Jack start to silently cry as he kissed and moaned and bucked. With a shaking gasp he broke the kiss and whispered," I love you...forever..." The last word was moaned and he gave a shudder of pleasure as his own fingers pushed against his full prostate, his thumb teased the head of his own cock.
If the very sight of Jack falling apart under him was enough to break something primal open inside of Bruce. But the words that fall from those mangled lips....It nearly broke something else. His free hand clenched in the sheets, almost tearing them as waves of guilt and fear wash through him, almost dousing out his arousal. But he can't, or Jack will see. He'll see the lie Bruce really is. And instead he swallows the words with his mouth and pulls Jack's fingers out of himself. Reaching for Jack's cock, he took the precome beading there and used it as lube to slick himself up. He didn't even break for air as he lined himself up and pushed inside the tight, willing body.
Jack gasped and for a moment cringed with pain upon the first breach. "Nng..." He closed his eyes tight and tried his best to control his breathing. "B...Bruce?" He breathed. Jack could feel the heat coming off both of them.
Panting, he held still for a moment, feeling the body shudder under him. Clenching his teeth, he let Jack relax, ease up for him. In the meantime, Bruce dropped his head to kiss the mans eyelids. "I'm here...it's okay." He shushed and continued to kiss each bandaged cut and blooming bruise on Jack's face as he started to slowly roll his hips, each time pushing himself in a little deeper.
Jack growled his agreement and wrapped himself tight around Bruce. His body rocked against Bruce to make each thrust deeper. "Ahhh..." He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. His hand worked fast up and down his cock and he moaned. "Bruce..." He whined.
Bruce knew they wouldn't last long, not with Jack working himself overtime and clamping down around him with each thrust. Bruce's hand closed around Jack's and they both worked his cock as Bruce started to thrust hard and fast, gasping in the crook of his lovers neck as he managed to bottom out with each snap of his hips.
"Mmm!" He bucked his hips wildly and eagerly into the thrusts and began to pant. "Bruce...Bruce...Bruce..." It was his mantra as the pressure built and built.
Bruce thrust harder with each panting breath of his name, angling his hips to strike at Jack's prostate. His hand squeezed and fisted his lover as he pistoned in and out, lunging forward he claimed those mangled, beautiful lips.
Lips mashing against Bruce's he cried out once the right spot was hit. He and Bruce worked his cock faster and he panted heavily. "Mmmmmnnnggg..."
He bit Jack's lower lip and growled. "Come for me, Jack." He growled and thrust deep and hard as he fisted Jack to the root.
With a hitching gasp his whole body arched up into Bruce's body and he started to come in quick messy bursts, large droplets of pearly white seed got all over them both. Jack leaned back his head, and in his ecstasy he let out a whine and his eyes watered a little as if he was starting to cry again. The moment quickly passed. This was his home.
Authors: knives99 and heatherhouse .
Fandom: Batman; Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman(Bruce)/The Joker
Rating: R
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, Prescription drug use.
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.
A/N: 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.
P.S.: knives99 and I are so sorry it took us this long to post again. We have the chapters finished we just had to have the time to edit it and work kept us both busy and apart for a while. But we're back and hope you all forgive us and enjoy the new chapter.
Broken, bleeding, and burning with guilt. Jack walked exhaustedly to the pent house. He already assumed they knew he was gone. Part of him wanted to run away from what Bruce would say to him. The other part just wanted to be held and not feel so strange. Why? Why couldnít he kill? Bruce. Bruce Wayne had corrupted his love for the dark knight! He wanted to hate him but his heart wouldnít let him. Bruce had imprinted himself on his heart. His bloody hand mashed the button of the comm to the pent house. In a hoarse voice he asked,î Alfred? Are you awake?î
Alfred was up and waiting for the younger man with a look that was caught somewhere between relief and disappointment. "Decided to come back then, I see." The butler said in a cold monotone. He took in the sight of blood all over the younger man and sighed. His voice was tired now. "I hope it was worth it, lad." He said before moving towards Jack. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Jack hugged Alfred around the neck tight enough to almost crush the older man's throat. He shivered and whispered on a near sob. "Please...Please..." He choked out a painful sob and tears spilled down on to Alfred's coat. "I...I can't see him...I am scared..." He begged. He buried his face into Alfred's throat and cried hard.
Alfred was shocked at first. He'd expected some cold or even dismissive remark in response, but not even Jack's childish behavior over the last few weeks had prepared him for the man to cling on and cry to him. After a moment, as the shock of it started to wear off, he reached up to touch the mans back. "Jack...did you kill anyone?" He asked quietly.
"He hates me now....because I left...because I'm bad.." He pushed the older man back into the elevator to get to the top of the penthouse. He let go and sat down in the corner with his legs curled under him. "...Why....Why am I....weak?" Blood, dirt, sweat, and grime made his hair and face dirty. His cloths were ruffled. And the bruises forming on his body made him stiffer. It was if he were posing. Yet, he was in his own little world, terrified of his punishment with Bruce. Nothing else. Nothing could make him tremble more at the idea of what he could have destroyed tonight. His head was down and he was silent. Tears dripped down his face and landed on the steel floor of the elevator.
With his head down he looked like a wounded animal, his hands close against his body, his entire thin frame shaking, and he giggled into silent sobs. The slowly went silent again. He wrapped up in a little ball with his back to the wall.
The blood ran freely from his mouth and lumps on his face and head. He grabbed two handfuls of blond hair and tugged on it anxiously. His body curled into itself and he whimpered. "I...I don't want him...to be mad..." His gravelly hoarse voice whispered.
Alfred didn't, couldn't refuse the mans movements. Stepping back into the elevator, he made sure no one had seen the young mans entrance or his present break down before slipping the card in the panel. The doors pinged but did nothing to drown out Jack's whimpering words. He sighed and turned to crouch by the sniveling child of a man, cuddled up to himself like he'd expect another beating on top of the one he'd already soundly received. "If you'd have thought of the consequences before running off, then Bruce wouldn't return home tonight angry. You broke a very important promise, Jack." He said but despite his words, tried to soothe the creature that could snap at him any moment with sharp teeth rather then nod understandingly.
Lifting his head and looking at Alfred, his face was full of innocent child-like guilt, but somewhere deep inside those wild flaming green orbs was a burning fire. Apparently, from the look in his eyes, he wanted to infect someone with the same passionate desire. "Return?" Tears trailed down his face and he blinked at Alfred. "He is not here? He...he is out there?"
Alfred nodded, touching Jack's head like anyone would to soothe a distraught child. "He went to look for you when we realized you'd run off." He explained calmly. "But he'll be back shortly. Just enough time to get you cleaned up somewhat." He assured as the door dinged open and Alfred tried to lead Jack into the penthouse.
They ended up limping together until they came across a couch. Jack collapsed on it and panted heavily as he recovered from the explusition of energy to get there. He look at Alfred pleadingly a moment, and then laid down on the couch and sobbed. "I'm not perfect. It doesn't matter right?" He thought aloud. He grabbed his head and writhed. "So...hot...So many voices...so many emotions...I'm tingling."
Letting Jack sink into the couch, he sighed and patted the mans shoulder. "No one's perfect, lad." He replied but doubted the man even heard him. His brow furrowed at the new round of babbling though. "I'll get you some water and something to clear your thoughts up." He promised as he moved for the kitchen. He knew Bruce had sworn off Valium for the troubled man but Alfred was sure it would do Jack a world of good right now.
Taking the pills was what started this hell in the first place. When Alfred returned and approached Jack with water and the pills he glared at the butler. "I'm in pain! I need it." Jack felt like he was suffocating. And then suddenly his breathing slowed and he closed his eyes. Fainting from a shift in blood pressure from the stress he was under.
It was blessing for both parties that unconscious was how Bruce found Jack when he arrived. The vigilante was still riled up from his little street cleaning and had half a mind to tear into the man responsible for tonightís fiasco. But finding him passed out and badly beaten stopped Bruce in his tracks, replaying the scene from the Narrows in his mind in vivid colors. Sighing, he shocked Alfred who hadn't noticed Bruce's return as he moved forward to scoop Jack up in his arms. "Master Bruce, are you..." Bruce just shook his head tiredly. "I've got him, Alfred. You can turn in for the night." He said dismissively as he carried Jack to the bedroom, aware of the old mans eyes on him the whole time.
Completely limp in Bruce's arms Jack looked troubled in his sleep, his brow furrowing. In his body fit perfectly snug in Bruce's arms, and he bounced slightly with each step. Then his lips started working and he uttered,î Bruce..."
Jack's eyes began to leak tears again and he inhaled sharply in his sleep at the pain he was feeling. Hahahahahaha...It hurts. Why? Silently he turned in and curled more into Bruce as he was carried.
Bruce tensed slightly as he felt the man start to wake. He could see from the low lighting in the bedroom how the blood was drying on in unseemly places on the broken planes of Jack's face. He set the beaten body on top of the sheets and sighed as he sat beside Jack and brushed the blond hair aside that hadn't been tainted with flecks of red yet.
Blond eyebrows raised and he turned his face into the touch, subconsciously searching out the feeling and exploring it. The madman was in pain but you could tell he wasn't suffering. So the damage done could be severe or not. A little blood was still running from his head and his breathing was a little wheezy.
Running a hand down the scarred cheek, Bruce moved to fetch the first aid kit. But once he reached the bathroom he had to stop and look at himself. This wasn't who Bruce had set out to be. This wasn't the life he'd planned to create. Jack was slipping in and out of a quickly descending state of paranoia and violence. Today was the bad day, but how much longer could Bruce keep praying for a good one? His eyes fell on the bottle of Valium Alfred had opened earlier. He could slip one in between Jack's teeth and keep the man under for a good six hours at best. It wouldn't even take half that time to have him secured in a cell back at Arkham.
Jack stirred from the bed and sat up. Once he was sitting up right he opened his eyes and got a view of the dimly lit room. He groggily pulled off his shirt and let it hang sloppily on his arms. His face was puffy from crying and the beating he'd taken. Instead of calling for his lover, he laid back down and tossed the shirt to the floor. Then he pulled the pillow to the bed over his head and whimpered. The voices were still clawing at the back of his mind, the guilt still making him burn all over. A muffled sob echoed in the room.
Bruce stared at himself in the mirror for a few minutes, trying to see just who he was in this moment. Was he the vigilante who would finally do what was right, or Jack's lover whose only job was to take care of the tormented maniac? He flinched at his own reflection and turned away from it. He was the coward tonight. Taking the kit from a drawer he moved back into the bedroom and paused in the doorway at the sound of crying. He shut the bathroom door for Jack's benefit, so he knew Bruce was there now.
Hearing the door shut, he at least registered the fact someone was in the room with him. He forced himself out from under the pillow and stared at Bruce, standing at the door to the bathroom. He pulled his legs up and held them against his chest. "...I can't do this.." He whispered after a moments silence. "I want it to end. I just want it all to stop." A voice spoke thought his mind sharply causing his eyes to dilate for a moment as he answered it. "Batman is waiting for me..." Then he brought his hands to his head and covered his ears. He sniffled and tears dripped down and got caught in the grooves of his scars. He made a very tiny cry of pain and laid on his side awkwardly on the bed. He struggled to keep the tears from coming.
Anger rose up in his stomach too hot and fast for him to control before his lips curled in a sneer and his eyes narrowed. "Is that who you were out there looking for, Jack?" He didn't raise his voice. But the coldness in his tone didn't need volume, only that dead silence to slice in like a butterfly knife.
Taking a deep breath through his nose he looked at Bruce directly again and licked at his scars on reflex. "I wasn't looking for him...it wasn't me...it wasn't even my idea...I just was...compelled."
Bruce tensed slightly as he felt the man start to wake. He could see from the low lighting in the bedroom how the blood was drying on in unseemly places on the broken planes of Jack's face. He set the beaten body on top of the sheets and sighed as he sat beside Jack and brushed the blond hair aside that hadn't been tainted with flecks of red yet.
Blond eyebrows raised and he turned his face into the touch, subconsciously searching out the feeling and exploring it. The madman was in pain but you could tell he wasn't suffering. So the damage done could be severe or not. A little blood was still running from his head and his breathing was a little wheezy.
Running a hand down the scarred cheek, Bruce moved to fetch the first aid kit. But once he reached the bathroom he had to stop and look at himself. This wasn't who Bruce had set out to be. This wasn't the life he'd planned to create. Jack was slipping in and out of a quickly descending state of paranoia and violence. Today was the bad day, but how much longer could Bruce keep praying for a good one? His eyes fell on the bottle of Valium Alfred had opened earlier. He could slip one in between Jack's teeth and keep the man under for a good six hours at best. It wouldn't even take half that time to have him secured in a cell back at Arkham.
Jack stirred from the bed and sat up. Once he was sitting up right he opened his eyes and got a view of the dimly lit room. He groggily pulled off his shirt and let it hang sloppily on his arms. His face was puffy from crying and the beating he'd taken. Instead of calling for his lover, he laid back down and tossed the shirt to the floor. Then he pulled the pillow to the bed over his head and whimpered. The voices were still clawing at the back of his mind, the guilt still making him burn all over. A muffled sob echoed in the room.
Bruce stared at himself in the mirror for a few minutes, trying to see just who he was in this moment. Was he the vigilante who would finally do what was right, or Jack's lover whose only job was to take care of the tormented maniac? He flinched at his own reflection and turned away from it. He was the coward tonight. Taking the kit from a drawer he moved back into the bedroom and paused in the doorway at the sound of crying. He shut the bathroom door for Jack's benefit, so he knew Bruce was there now.
Hearing the door shut, he at least registered the fact someone was in the room with him. He forced himself out from under the pillow and stared at Bruce, standing at the door to the bathroom. He pulled his legs up and held them against his chest. "...I can't do this.." He whispered after a moments silence. "I want it to end. I just want it all to stop." A voice spoke thought his mind sharply causing his eyes to dilate for a moment as he answered it. "Batman is waiting for me..." Then he brought his hands to his head and covered his ears. He sniffled and tears dripped down and got caught in the grooves of his scars. He made a very tiny cry of pain and laid on his side awkwardly on the bed. He struggled to keep the tears from coming.
Anger rose up in his stomach too hot and fast for him to control before his lips curled in a sneer and his eyes narrowed. "Is that who you were out there looking for, Jack?" He didn't raise his voice. But the coldness in his tone didn't need volume, only that dead silence to slice in like a butterfly knife.
Taking a deep breath through his nose he looked at Bruce directly again and licked at his scars on reflex. "I wasn't looking for him...it wasn't me...it wasn't even my idea...I just was...compelled."
"Compelled to do what? Get yourself killed?" He demanded, getting closer to the bed. "Do you have any idea how long I was looking for you? I thought you'd gone out to pick up your old habits, Jack. You promised me you'd stay in the penthouse." Bruce hadn't realized just how worried he'd been. What they were had been balanced on the edge of a knife tonight and they just barely made it through because for some reason Jack had stopped.
Jack stared at Bruce, lost and confused, and slowly that stare became a hurt frown. "I..I didn't..." He stood up to face Bruce on his feet incase the man threw himself at him they'd both land on something soft when they began to fight. "I DIDN'T. I was so close." Something about the way Jack was looking at Bruce was becoming quickly frightening. He grinned manically despite the constant flow of tears down his cheeks. "I could have killed that thug. And another person. And another person. And then another person. And then within a few hours I'll have collected enough souls to tip the balance and get his attention." His stare drifted and his eyes dilated and the strange tone to his voice faded and went soft as he choked out a sob.
"But I find that...these days with you here.." The evil smile faded and he broke down into his hands. "You've tainted me with your fiery light!" He sniffled and looked up at Bruce again. "You've done what all the best doctors in Arkham, the police, and innocent could not." Jack clawed at the spot on chest and dug his nails in, cringing. "I can feel it inside of here. The still indifference, broken. I...I've found some type of humanity inside the walls of your lonely world."
Bruce didn't move, he didn't utter a word as he saw the Joker start to surface in his lovers face, the way he spoke as if killing was a artful, heady process. But he felt himself get colder, wondering if the first aid kit would word as a bludgeoning tool if the man suddenly became violent. The coward and the fool was what Bruce was tonight and Jack was just showing him what Alfred had been begging him to see all along. He'd had hope when Jack had stopped in the Narrows. Then he sobbed and Bruce's eyes focused suddenly. He was dumbstruck by the change for a moment. It was when Jack started to hurt himself that Bruce darted forward and grabbed the mans thin wrists. "Jack, don't!" He snapped out of instinct and held him securely. He pulled the man to his chest, locking eyes with Jack's frantic ones. "It's okay." He soothed quietly. He reached up to card his fingers through Jack's hair. "You're home, it's all right."
Being pulled close, Jack stared up at the wall behind Bruce. "No its not." He sobbed and buried his face into Bruce's muscular chest. "He is waiting for me. What if he came looking for me?"
Bruce closed his eyes, resting his chin on Jack's head. "He won't find you here. He'll never find you here, I promise." He soothed.
Jack blinked and looked up at Bruce, giving him a curious look. "Bruce.." His face flushed lightly and his face was still swollen and wet from his tears. He wrapped his arms around Bruce's neck and watched him watching him. "I broke a promise to you...I shouldn't have acted on my impulses. It's just...so hard with all the voices."
He looked down and grasped Jack's chin, careful of all the cuts and bruises. "Did you kill anyone tonight, Jack?" It was a serious question, not an accusation. But because Bruce couldn't admit to knowing the answer it had to come from Jack's own lips.
His jaw quivered and he shook his head. "No."
Bruce nodded, something in his chest loosening. "All right." He pulled back enough to make Jack sit down on the bed. "Then lets get you cleaned up and get some sleep, okay?"
Smiling a little he looked Bruce in the eye. His hand lifted and he caressed his lover's cheek. "I'll be okay.." This wasn't true though. The blood and dirt on his skin was very apparent.
Bruce gave him a meaningful look and pushed the stubborn man down on the bed. "Not if the cuts get infected." His tone was not to be argued as he shrugged off the suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves to take care of Jack's battered face and body.
Jack was bare beside his pants and damp shoes and socks. He stared at Bruce and continued to cry silently. His ribs were badly bruised and his temple was bleeding. "No! I don't want to be treated.." He turned over on his stomach to block Bruce from touching the injuries.
"Jack." He snapped, trying to grab the man and hold him still but not use so much force that Jack tried to fight him. "Just hold still for a few minutes."
Pushing himself up he tried to crawl, but it caused his ribs to ache from the bruising. Reaching out he vainly grabbed a handful of bed linen and pulled it down hard. "But.." He argued.
"But what?" Bruce asked angrily, letting go because he sure as hell wasn't going to chase the man around the bed. "What reason could you possibly have for not wanting to be patched up?"
Jack turned around and face Bruce by looking down between his legs at the end of the bed. "...Fine."
Bruce tilted his head, raising a brow at Jack's angle and wrapped his hand around the mans ankle, tugging his leg out from under him. "Good." He stated flatly. "Now come back here and sit down."
Jack willingly sat still, his legs jumping anxiously under him as he allowed Bruce to treat his pains. While Bruce treated him he finally stopped crying, he stared back at Bruce as he was examined. Then as he was treated he noticed Bruce was still wearing his dress shirt. Blushing he reached out and began unbuttoning the other man's clothes, despite if he got in the way or not. "...you need less clothes." He commented and then sniffled.
"Stop that." Bruce said and pushed Jack's hands away as he was trying to clean a cut on Jack's forehead. "I'm trying to do something."
But Jack insisted. He undid another button the second he had the chance to do it again. "Bruce.." He muttered and gave a wanting look to his boyfriend.
The look in Jack's eyes was what made the vigilante pause. The brush of fingers as his clothes were tugged at reminded him of all the aborted moments in the last week where he'd been all too aware oh how Jack had felt rejected. So he didn't argue as the man started to unbutton his shirt again.
Once Jack had Bruce's shirt open he ran his fingers over the scarred muscular chest. It was warm, soft, and bumpy with scars and muscle. Jack looked up into Bruce's eyes again and cocked head. "...I..I really didn't kill anyone...your voice was in my mind..."
He watched the path of Jack's fingers before meeting those green eyes. "I believe you." He said with the quiet confidence of knowing. Bruce cupped his hand against Jack's cheek and tilted his head up to kiss his lover gently.
Kissing him back he wrapped his thin arms around Bruce and pulled him to laying on top of him. He made the kiss deeper and forced his way into the other man's mouth. "Mmm.." Jack loved the rich flavorful taste that lingered on the playboy's tongue. Shifting under Bruce he spread his legs and urged their hips to meet. He groaned when his bruised ribs ached. The pain only made his loins stir further into life.
Bruce braced his arms against the bed as they went down, keeping his full weight off the smaller man. He was distracted by the way Jack's tongue tried to work it's way inside his mouth and opened up for it, tongue colliding and wrestling against each other as Bruce groaned. He grasped a thigh and hiked it up from the bed to grind against Jack fully. Pulling back, it was all a flurry of motion then. Pulling back to undo Jack's pants and yank them down, taking the sneakers off in the same motion as he tossed them away and slammed his mouth back down against Jack's hungrily.
In a desperate move, Jack grabbed Bruce and flipped them on the bed. He sat astride Bruce's thighs, hunched over, kissing him rough enough that both of them would have a swollen lips. His hips ground down against him, again he groaned with pain, but it felt just to good to stop. His hands started to undo the other man's pants, but he didn't have enough patience for removing them or going to get the lube. With a growl he nipped Bruce's lower lip hard and pulled back. He worked Bruce out of his pants and boxers through the hole in them and stroked slowly to make his cock stiff. With hooded eyes he stared down at his mate. A little blood was still running down his face.
Finding himself on his back with Jack hovering over him should have been some kind of warning sign, set off alarms to throw a punch. Instead he gripped a handful of Jack's hair and fought back against the bruising kiss. He growled when Jack pulled away, ready to yank the blond back down when those hands started to work his pants open impatiently. Bruce groaned, bucking his hips up to hurry Jack along and grunted once those long fingers wrapped around him. Bruce grit his teeth and bucked up into that those slow strokes. It didn't take long to get him hard and while Jack was preoccupied and Bruce still had some sense left he rolled them again and started to rut into the mans hand. He wasn't going to fuck the man with his pants and boxers still on, so he shoved Jack's hands away to quickly kick his own clothes off.
The clown bristled sensing the violence in his lover and he grew even more excited, he throbbed painfully both between his legs and his ribs. Once pants and boxers were gone, Jack tried to take control again. Sticking three fingers into his mouth he began to suckle on them to get them wet. He watched Bruce below him with dilated eyes. His free hand started to tease Bruce's cock with feather light touches. Then when the digits were wet enough he sat up on his knees in his straddle on the billionares lap. With a mewling sound he pushed two fingers inside himself and began to scissor them apart. His head leaned back, his golden curls tickling his sweat slick neck. His cock twitched and stood at attention in Bruce's vision, paitently waiting for attention from either of them.
Jack took advantage of Bruce's time stripping. He laid back on the bed and spread his legs, then he sucked his fingers till they were wet enough. Putting his hand between his legs, he gave Bruce an excellent show of preparing himself. He purred and watched Bruce with a predatory look in his eyes. "Rrr..." He bared his yellow teeth playfully. Grabbing his own cock he stroked at the same time he fingered himself and his hips bucked into his own hand. "Mmm.." He watched Bruce and grinned
Bruce watched the way he laid himself out on display, opened himself for the playboy and felt his heart do double time in his chest. He quickly moved back over to claim his lips and swallow the groans as Jack worked himself. Reaching down, he cupped his hand around Jack's and made him push those fingers deeper inside himself.
He tensed only for a second before he gave a mewl of delight, his inner muscle stimulated from naturally clenching. Jack nipped at Bruce's lips and made the kiss as passionate as he could, as if he thought this wouldn't last forever or even the night. It almost felt like it was the last time. It made Jack start to silently cry as he kissed and moaned and bucked. With a shaking gasp he broke the kiss and whispered," I love you...forever..." The last word was moaned and he gave a shudder of pleasure as his own fingers pushed against his full prostate, his thumb teased the head of his own cock.
If the very sight of Jack falling apart under him was enough to break something primal open inside of Bruce. But the words that fall from those mangled lips....It nearly broke something else. His free hand clenched in the sheets, almost tearing them as waves of guilt and fear wash through him, almost dousing out his arousal. But he can't, or Jack will see. He'll see the lie Bruce really is. And instead he swallows the words with his mouth and pulls Jack's fingers out of himself. Reaching for Jack's cock, he took the precome beading there and used it as lube to slick himself up. He didn't even break for air as he lined himself up and pushed inside the tight, willing body.
Jack gasped and for a moment cringed with pain upon the first breach. "Nng..." He closed his eyes tight and tried his best to control his breathing. "B...Bruce?" He breathed. Jack could feel the heat coming off both of them.
Panting, he held still for a moment, feeling the body shudder under him. Clenching his teeth, he let Jack relax, ease up for him. In the meantime, Bruce dropped his head to kiss the mans eyelids. "I'm here...it's okay." He shushed and continued to kiss each bandaged cut and blooming bruise on Jack's face as he started to slowly roll his hips, each time pushing himself in a little deeper.
Jack growled his agreement and wrapped himself tight around Bruce. His body rocked against Bruce to make each thrust deeper. "Ahhh..." He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. His hand worked fast up and down his cock and he moaned. "Bruce..." He whined.
Bruce knew they wouldn't last long, not with Jack working himself overtime and clamping down around him with each thrust. Bruce's hand closed around Jack's and they both worked his cock as Bruce started to thrust hard and fast, gasping in the crook of his lovers neck as he managed to bottom out with each snap of his hips.
"Mmm!" He bucked his hips wildly and eagerly into the thrusts and began to pant. "Bruce...Bruce...Bruce..." It was his mantra as the pressure built and built.
Bruce thrust harder with each panting breath of his name, angling his hips to strike at Jack's prostate. His hand squeezed and fisted his lover as he pistoned in and out, lunging forward he claimed those mangled, beautiful lips.
Lips mashing against Bruce's he cried out once the right spot was hit. He and Bruce worked his cock faster and he panted heavily. "Mmmmmnnnggg..."
He bit Jack's lower lip and growled. "Come for me, Jack." He growled and thrust deep and hard as he fisted Jack to the root.
With a hitching gasp his whole body arched up into Bruce's body and he started to come in quick messy bursts, large droplets of pearly white seed got all over them both. Jack leaned back his head, and in his ecstasy he let out a whine and his eyes watered a little as if he was starting to cry again. The moment quickly passed. This was his home.