Bound
Title: Bound
Author: heatherhouse
Prompt: Bad Luck
Word Count: 2,842
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or Joker, or this may have happened on my watch.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Light bondage, dub-con, sex
Summary: Sometimes bad luck, then good luck can land you right back into bad luck. And then you get lost somewhere after that.
A/N: Okay, this idea has been swimming in my head for three months now, yes, three months! I finally wrote it for this prompt but be aware that it was written down finally at three in the morning. So any typos are going to be blamed on that and I promise to fix them when I'm more awake. Have fun with the porn!
It started with the weather, as a perfectly clear night became a downpour straight from a nightmare scenario in a matter of minutes. It weighed down his body, the armor gaining ten extra pounds, slowing him down. The rain made every surface slick and hazardous, even for the man he was chasing over the slanted rooftops of Gotham City it was a challenge to keep your footing. With all those layers, the mad mans usual Spring Heeled Jack spryness was proved as useless as Batman’s flight. Keeping them firmly grounded on their own two feet in a mad dash through the night. That was until he came across a heavy purple overcoat carefully stuffed in a rooftop vent. The Joker was trying to gain ground.
He took off across the rooftops again, the footing becoming more treacherous as he picked up speed. This city was not going to shake him so easily, defiant as ever he jumped the alleyway gaps without missing a beat, heart racing as every landing came with an unsure outcome.
Then a sharp whistle, shrill enough to pierce through the pounding rain made him stop in mid run and turn to the building across from him.
“Oh, Batsy!” The Joker half crooned half screeched, waving his hand at the fuming vigilante with unfiltered glee. Dirty green hair plastered to his face as the make-up seem to melt off him in watercolor rivulets. And for a moment he was stopped by the sight of the man reveling in the ruining effects of rain, his tailored clothes clinging to his thin frame like a drowned cat, or something more...
“Well, are you coming, or do we stand here all night?” The Joker growled with annoyance as they stood on opposite buildings, opposite sides of the street.
And like that the trance was broken and Batman didn’t care how the melting madman had gotten to the other side of the street, he would not get much farther then that. Gritting his teeth, the cape useless. His eyes never left the suddenly jittering man across from him as he grabbed the grappling gun from his belt and fired. He didn’t even wait for the tell tale tightness of the cord before he swung off towards the Joker.
And that was his mistake, his blunder as the wire never went taunt as he never gave it enough time to find an anchor and he felt his stomach rise into his chest as the familiar swing became a graceless plummet to the ground below.
It was a blessing he didn’t feel the landing.
---
Waking was an odd mix of pain and aching heat of a totally different breed that you did not associate with falling off a six story building. He groaned, mind already alive and racing as to how he’d survived when he tried to move, and found that utterly impossible.
His body twisted, the side of his face pressing against the hard surface under his cheek as he struggled against his restraints. He hissed suddenly when the movements made his lower half move over the object he was tied to and felt a jolt of unexplainable arousal shoot through is body. His hands were tied behind his back, cape gone, chest and neck secured down to the cylinder he was bent over. From the sharp smell in his nose, it was an oil drum and the same rope that had his upper body secure was tied around the drum to keep his legs splayed wide and stationary. He couldn’t move an inch, the sound of straining ropes a taunting hope that he could somehow get free, but the position had him completely immobilized.
“You know...”
Bruce suddenly froze, every muscle tightening in his body which made his lower half squirm and jolt all at once. But that drawling voice never wavered.
“If that dumpster hadn’t been just below you when you fell I don’t think this position would have quiet the same effect.” Even through the kevlar he could feel the clown drag his gloved hand up one armored thigh and he shifted in his bonds to no avail to get away from it. That voice suddenly far too close. “Don’t you agree, Batsy?”
“Get off of me!” He roared, trying to ram his head back into the Joker’s face, grab at the clowns clothes with his bound hands.
But the mad man was quick and giggled as he rocked away, hand still laying possessively on Bruce’s inner thigh where he still felt that odd sensitivity. He was not a masochist like the Joker, he should not be getting off on the pain from his fall.
“Or...or you’ll do what, hmm?” The Joker asked, humming through his lips as the wet slide of tongue over lip was heard clearly when Bruce had to rely on sound instead of sight to track the man. “Looks to me like you owe me for that little stunt you pulled...”
Bruce grit his teeth as the hand on his thigh suddenly moved up to grasp him through the kevlar cup protecting his cock from those gloved fingers. But while he couldn’t feel the hand he could sure as hell feel the heat and the pressure as the Joker’s pressed up against the sheltered skin.
The ropes groaned and it covered up the small sound that escaped Bruce’s lips as a startling blossom of heat spread through his body. He rallied against it a second later.
“Get your filthy hands off me!”
“Hmmm,” The Joker hummed as he seemed to soak in every reaction he got from the bat. “How about a magic trick instead.” He said in a low croon as the hand suddenly disappeared.
Bruce hated himself for it, but he relaxed against the barrel with relief when that pressure was gone only to hear the clasps of the batsuit click open with ease and a cold breeze wash over the skin from his lower back to the back of his thighs.
“Ta da!” The Joker proclaimed proudly as the kevlar piece hit the ground with a dull thud. “You were out for, uh...a while. So I got to playing around with a few things. You know, to relieve all those long hours you were away.”
Bruce was in too much shock to react for a moment, breathing heavily as he tried to wrap is mind around what was happening. Then a single bare digit pushed inside of him and Bruce sucked cold air in between clenched teeth. The finger pressing into him was dry but Bruce’s insides were in fact not dry. It sent a sick realization coiling through Bruce’s stomach as the Joker chuckled.
“I got in a little practice while you were snoozing.” He purred and rammed the finger farther in, making Bruce arch and growl.
“Bastard!”
“Love you too, Bats.” He crooned low, hooking his finger inside to feel the bats thigh clench underneath his free hand. “Bet you’ve figured out what that little tingling sensation was now, huh? Figured I’d compensate for all those other unpleasant aches you might be feeling right about now.”
The creak of leather filtered through the air between them as Bruce’s hands curled into fists, teeth digging into his lip as he breathed harshly through his nose. He would not let this psychopath do this to him!
“What does this...prove...what do you want...”
“All I want...” Joker said slowly, calmly as his palm slid up Bruce’s bare thigh before those fingers wiggled and forced their way under the parts of the suit that still covered his hips. “Is what’s mine,” then his blunt nails suddenly dug into Bruce’s hip, making the vigilante hiss in pain. “What you almost took away from me tonight and I’m going to make sure I don’t miss out on it in case you plan to do something so incredibly stupid again.”
The clowns aim suddenly became clear and Bruce’s struggles began anew. “Not a chance!” He shouted.
And suddenly the Joker’s finger came in brief contact with something that made Bruce’s whole body shudder and forced a startled grunt past his lips.
“Ooo! Found it.” The Joker purred happily and pushed more firmly on the vigilantes prostrate.
Bruce was panting, his whole body a boneless mess as his cock pressed painfully against the restraints of his suit still left in place.
“Want to co-oper-ate now, Batsy?”
Bruce was losing control over his body, his voice wavering as he tried to fight it. “Go...to hell...”
“Oh ho ho, listen to that baritone!” He said with gusto, leaning down to press mangled and lipstick covered lips against the raised line of Bruce’s spine, slipping a second finger into Bruce at the same time. “Didn’t know you had it in you.” He murmured.
The vibrations of the Joker’s voice against his skin and the second finger, stretching and pushing against his prostrate almost had Bruce spilling over with pleasure and hot fury. But the Joker, as quickly as he’d invaded the vigilantes body, slid his fingers out to a harsh expel of breath from Bruce’s body as he slumped against the barrel.
It was a short reprieve however as he heard the Joker moan, almost whine in the back of his throat and felt the mad mans hard, clothed cock press into his ass, eliciting more wordless moans from the man standing behind him.
“Yessssss...”
Bruce struggled weakly, most of the fight dying down with his inability to tell what he wanted and didn’t want anymore. The Joker made the decision for him, holding his hips still as he ground against his enemies ass with abandon. The lustful groans and grunts from the other man sliced through Bruce like the hard grind against his ass made him shudder and bite his lip until he tasted copper, keeping the sounds he knew his enemy wanted to hear at bay as best he could.
The Joker suddenly growled and reached between Bruce’s spread legs, fingers moving frantically for the cup covering him. What he at one point thought of as an impenetrable guard fell away like so much paper mache under the Joker’s determined digits. His cock gripped unforgivingly in those long fingers, a thumb teased and flicking over the tip.
“Fuck!” He cursed harshly, tasting gasoline on his lips as they pressed into the barrel.
“Just... getting it...Brucie?” The Joker panted, a little chuckle when he felt Bruce’s body tense for an entirely different reason. Then there was a sudden click too close to Bruce’s ear and he felt a sick falling sensation as the cowl was pulled off his head and tossed to the ground in front of him.
He was suddenly naked and at the Joker’s mercy. Never mind that he still had more then half the batsuit still on, he was completely bare beneath his nemesis and they both knew it. Bruce pressed his face down into the barrel.
“A, tah, tah, tah!” The Joker reprimanded sharply as his hand fisted in Bruce’s damp hair and jerked his head up as far as the ropes would allow, turning the vigilantes face to look at his enemy.
What Bruce saw was a pair of bright, sparkling acid green eyes staring back at him, boring a lust drunk stare into his own. His face more pink and flushed then white, red and black. His chest heaving as he held Bruce’s eyes and rocked into his ass, groaning.
Sweat dripping down his temples to sting his eyes, Bruce did not look away and watched as a knowing, all too knowing smile spread across the Joker’s face. Bruce felt his gut churn with dread and anticipation at the same time as the grip loosened on his hair and slipped away completely. The Joker released Bruce’s dick and took a step back from his body all together. And Bruce made the first real noise he’d allowed himself all night, one of disappointment.
The smile turned into a smirk and Bruce glared at the Joker. And as if it were a silent cue the maniac had his pants undone and pooled around his ankles in a matter of seconds, eyes never leaving Bruce’s. Daring the vigilante to stop him. But when nothing came the Joker quickly snatched up a bottle from a nearby table.
It was only then that Bruce let his eyes drop to look at the other man, cock straining and erect. And if the way the Joker winced and hissed as he coated himself said anything, painful.
It was all he could do before looking away, a throaty laugh marking the action.
Bruce tensed as the Joker grabbed his hips and the hard feel of his cock pressed against Bruce’s puckered entrance. He grunted as the man wasted no time, pushing in a little as they both let out indecent exclamations and curses. But they both got impatient, and Joker took care of the problem with one swift thrust of his hips that rocked the barrel and made Bruce strain and pull at his restraints as his head was thrown back with a sharp intake of breath that sounded like it’d rubbed his throat raw.
It was the best and worst thing he’d ever felt in his life. The pain moved all the way up his spine and the pleasure all the way down to his toes and clashed somewhere in the middle as he panted, trying to regain some kind of sense.
“Oooooooo...” The single letter was dragged from the Joker’s lips in one obscene string as his back remained arched, standing on his toes as he held onto Bruce for balance. Then not a moment after he pulled out and thrust back in and Bruce met him halfway with a mixed moan.
The Joker built up a punishing rhythm, a frantic push and pull of his hips that left Bruce gasping and unable to do more then make garbled noises and curses in comparison to the Joker’s throaty groans and whines.
It was tearing him apart from the inside, then the Joker took firm hold of Bruce’s cock again and started fisting it furiously. The friction was dry but it was what made him cry out, hands curling into tight fists around his restraints as his balls tightened and he spilled over the Joker’s hand, body convulsing and shuddering.
The Joker continued to piston his hips in and out of Bruce’s ass for a few more seconds before he came with garbled mess of nonsense and whines on his lips, spilling his seed deep in his enemies body before he collapsed over Bruce and the room fell into a deafening silence.
It was impossible to measure the time spent with just the sound of each other breathing. But when Bruce’s body no longer had the strength to move, only then did the Joker pull out of him with a wince and cut the bonds that held the vigilante in place. He felt them fall away as the Joker took his time to saw at the ropes with one of his switchblades. Every muscle found some way to relax against the barrel as he was given room to move, but the Joker didn’t untie his hands.
Hooking soiled fingers in the collar of the suit, the Joker dragged Bruce into a standing position that brought every ache new and old to the forefront. The Joker attacked the bit of armor that covered Bruce’s throat and it fell to theground soon after. Mangeled lips latching on his throat, biting and sucking at a racing pulse point. Bruce groaned.
Bruce shifted away and the Joker growled, clawing at the armor over his chest and shoulders, mouth fastened on like an animal determined to mark it’s mate. Bruce’s throat felt raw by the time the Joker had finished and cut the last bond holding his wrists.
Even though they both knew that nothing had truly been untied as much as they'd been tightened.
"See you soon, lover." The Joker crooned in his ear before the pressure of his body was gone. Leaving Bruce alone with gasoline on his lips.
Author: heatherhouse
Prompt: Bad Luck
Word Count: 2,842
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or Joker, or this may have happened on my watch.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Light bondage, dub-con, sex
Summary: Sometimes bad luck, then good luck can land you right back into bad luck. And then you get lost somewhere after that.
A/N: Okay, this idea has been swimming in my head for three months now, yes, three months! I finally wrote it for this prompt but be aware that it was written down finally at three in the morning. So any typos are going to be blamed on that and I promise to fix them when I'm more awake. Have fun with the porn!
It started with the weather, as a perfectly clear night became a downpour straight from a nightmare scenario in a matter of minutes. It weighed down his body, the armor gaining ten extra pounds, slowing him down. The rain made every surface slick and hazardous, even for the man he was chasing over the slanted rooftops of Gotham City it was a challenge to keep your footing. With all those layers, the mad mans usual Spring Heeled Jack spryness was proved as useless as Batman’s flight. Keeping them firmly grounded on their own two feet in a mad dash through the night. That was until he came across a heavy purple overcoat carefully stuffed in a rooftop vent. The Joker was trying to gain ground.
He took off across the rooftops again, the footing becoming more treacherous as he picked up speed. This city was not going to shake him so easily, defiant as ever he jumped the alleyway gaps without missing a beat, heart racing as every landing came with an unsure outcome.
Then a sharp whistle, shrill enough to pierce through the pounding rain made him stop in mid run and turn to the building across from him.
“Oh, Batsy!” The Joker half crooned half screeched, waving his hand at the fuming vigilante with unfiltered glee. Dirty green hair plastered to his face as the make-up seem to melt off him in watercolor rivulets. And for a moment he was stopped by the sight of the man reveling in the ruining effects of rain, his tailored clothes clinging to his thin frame like a drowned cat, or something more...
“Well, are you coming, or do we stand here all night?” The Joker growled with annoyance as they stood on opposite buildings, opposite sides of the street.
And like that the trance was broken and Batman didn’t care how the melting madman had gotten to the other side of the street, he would not get much farther then that. Gritting his teeth, the cape useless. His eyes never left the suddenly jittering man across from him as he grabbed the grappling gun from his belt and fired. He didn’t even wait for the tell tale tightness of the cord before he swung off towards the Joker.
And that was his mistake, his blunder as the wire never went taunt as he never gave it enough time to find an anchor and he felt his stomach rise into his chest as the familiar swing became a graceless plummet to the ground below.
It was a blessing he didn’t feel the landing.
---
Waking was an odd mix of pain and aching heat of a totally different breed that you did not associate with falling off a six story building. He groaned, mind already alive and racing as to how he’d survived when he tried to move, and found that utterly impossible.
His body twisted, the side of his face pressing against the hard surface under his cheek as he struggled against his restraints. He hissed suddenly when the movements made his lower half move over the object he was tied to and felt a jolt of unexplainable arousal shoot through is body. His hands were tied behind his back, cape gone, chest and neck secured down to the cylinder he was bent over. From the sharp smell in his nose, it was an oil drum and the same rope that had his upper body secure was tied around the drum to keep his legs splayed wide and stationary. He couldn’t move an inch, the sound of straining ropes a taunting hope that he could somehow get free, but the position had him completely immobilized.
“You know...”
Bruce suddenly froze, every muscle tightening in his body which made his lower half squirm and jolt all at once. But that drawling voice never wavered.
“If that dumpster hadn’t been just below you when you fell I don’t think this position would have quiet the same effect.” Even through the kevlar he could feel the clown drag his gloved hand up one armored thigh and he shifted in his bonds to no avail to get away from it. That voice suddenly far too close. “Don’t you agree, Batsy?”
“Get off of me!” He roared, trying to ram his head back into the Joker’s face, grab at the clowns clothes with his bound hands.
But the mad man was quick and giggled as he rocked away, hand still laying possessively on Bruce’s inner thigh where he still felt that odd sensitivity. He was not a masochist like the Joker, he should not be getting off on the pain from his fall.
“Or...or you’ll do what, hmm?” The Joker asked, humming through his lips as the wet slide of tongue over lip was heard clearly when Bruce had to rely on sound instead of sight to track the man. “Looks to me like you owe me for that little stunt you pulled...”
Bruce grit his teeth as the hand on his thigh suddenly moved up to grasp him through the kevlar cup protecting his cock from those gloved fingers. But while he couldn’t feel the hand he could sure as hell feel the heat and the pressure as the Joker’s pressed up against the sheltered skin.
The ropes groaned and it covered up the small sound that escaped Bruce’s lips as a startling blossom of heat spread through his body. He rallied against it a second later.
“Get your filthy hands off me!”
“Hmmm,” The Joker hummed as he seemed to soak in every reaction he got from the bat. “How about a magic trick instead.” He said in a low croon as the hand suddenly disappeared.
Bruce hated himself for it, but he relaxed against the barrel with relief when that pressure was gone only to hear the clasps of the batsuit click open with ease and a cold breeze wash over the skin from his lower back to the back of his thighs.
“Ta da!” The Joker proclaimed proudly as the kevlar piece hit the ground with a dull thud. “You were out for, uh...a while. So I got to playing around with a few things. You know, to relieve all those long hours you were away.”
Bruce was in too much shock to react for a moment, breathing heavily as he tried to wrap is mind around what was happening. Then a single bare digit pushed inside of him and Bruce sucked cold air in between clenched teeth. The finger pressing into him was dry but Bruce’s insides were in fact not dry. It sent a sick realization coiling through Bruce’s stomach as the Joker chuckled.
“I got in a little practice while you were snoozing.” He purred and rammed the finger farther in, making Bruce arch and growl.
“Bastard!”
“Love you too, Bats.” He crooned low, hooking his finger inside to feel the bats thigh clench underneath his free hand. “Bet you’ve figured out what that little tingling sensation was now, huh? Figured I’d compensate for all those other unpleasant aches you might be feeling right about now.”
The creak of leather filtered through the air between them as Bruce’s hands curled into fists, teeth digging into his lip as he breathed harshly through his nose. He would not let this psychopath do this to him!
“What does this...prove...what do you want...”
“All I want...” Joker said slowly, calmly as his palm slid up Bruce’s bare thigh before those fingers wiggled and forced their way under the parts of the suit that still covered his hips. “Is what’s mine,” then his blunt nails suddenly dug into Bruce’s hip, making the vigilante hiss in pain. “What you almost took away from me tonight and I’m going to make sure I don’t miss out on it in case you plan to do something so incredibly stupid again.”
The clowns aim suddenly became clear and Bruce’s struggles began anew. “Not a chance!” He shouted.
And suddenly the Joker’s finger came in brief contact with something that made Bruce’s whole body shudder and forced a startled grunt past his lips.
“Ooo! Found it.” The Joker purred happily and pushed more firmly on the vigilantes prostrate.
Bruce was panting, his whole body a boneless mess as his cock pressed painfully against the restraints of his suit still left in place.
“Want to co-oper-ate now, Batsy?”
Bruce was losing control over his body, his voice wavering as he tried to fight it. “Go...to hell...”
“Oh ho ho, listen to that baritone!” He said with gusto, leaning down to press mangled and lipstick covered lips against the raised line of Bruce’s spine, slipping a second finger into Bruce at the same time. “Didn’t know you had it in you.” He murmured.
The vibrations of the Joker’s voice against his skin and the second finger, stretching and pushing against his prostrate almost had Bruce spilling over with pleasure and hot fury. But the Joker, as quickly as he’d invaded the vigilantes body, slid his fingers out to a harsh expel of breath from Bruce’s body as he slumped against the barrel.
It was a short reprieve however as he heard the Joker moan, almost whine in the back of his throat and felt the mad mans hard, clothed cock press into his ass, eliciting more wordless moans from the man standing behind him.
“Yessssss...”
Bruce struggled weakly, most of the fight dying down with his inability to tell what he wanted and didn’t want anymore. The Joker made the decision for him, holding his hips still as he ground against his enemies ass with abandon. The lustful groans and grunts from the other man sliced through Bruce like the hard grind against his ass made him shudder and bite his lip until he tasted copper, keeping the sounds he knew his enemy wanted to hear at bay as best he could.
The Joker suddenly growled and reached between Bruce’s spread legs, fingers moving frantically for the cup covering him. What he at one point thought of as an impenetrable guard fell away like so much paper mache under the Joker’s determined digits. His cock gripped unforgivingly in those long fingers, a thumb teased and flicking over the tip.
“Fuck!” He cursed harshly, tasting gasoline on his lips as they pressed into the barrel.
“Just... getting it...Brucie?” The Joker panted, a little chuckle when he felt Bruce’s body tense for an entirely different reason. Then there was a sudden click too close to Bruce’s ear and he felt a sick falling sensation as the cowl was pulled off his head and tossed to the ground in front of him.
He was suddenly naked and at the Joker’s mercy. Never mind that he still had more then half the batsuit still on, he was completely bare beneath his nemesis and they both knew it. Bruce pressed his face down into the barrel.
“A, tah, tah, tah!” The Joker reprimanded sharply as his hand fisted in Bruce’s damp hair and jerked his head up as far as the ropes would allow, turning the vigilantes face to look at his enemy.
What Bruce saw was a pair of bright, sparkling acid green eyes staring back at him, boring a lust drunk stare into his own. His face more pink and flushed then white, red and black. His chest heaving as he held Bruce’s eyes and rocked into his ass, groaning.
Sweat dripping down his temples to sting his eyes, Bruce did not look away and watched as a knowing, all too knowing smile spread across the Joker’s face. Bruce felt his gut churn with dread and anticipation at the same time as the grip loosened on his hair and slipped away completely. The Joker released Bruce’s dick and took a step back from his body all together. And Bruce made the first real noise he’d allowed himself all night, one of disappointment.
The smile turned into a smirk and Bruce glared at the Joker. And as if it were a silent cue the maniac had his pants undone and pooled around his ankles in a matter of seconds, eyes never leaving Bruce’s. Daring the vigilante to stop him. But when nothing came the Joker quickly snatched up a bottle from a nearby table.
It was only then that Bruce let his eyes drop to look at the other man, cock straining and erect. And if the way the Joker winced and hissed as he coated himself said anything, painful.
It was all he could do before looking away, a throaty laugh marking the action.
Bruce tensed as the Joker grabbed his hips and the hard feel of his cock pressed against Bruce’s puckered entrance. He grunted as the man wasted no time, pushing in a little as they both let out indecent exclamations and curses. But they both got impatient, and Joker took care of the problem with one swift thrust of his hips that rocked the barrel and made Bruce strain and pull at his restraints as his head was thrown back with a sharp intake of breath that sounded like it’d rubbed his throat raw.
It was the best and worst thing he’d ever felt in his life. The pain moved all the way up his spine and the pleasure all the way down to his toes and clashed somewhere in the middle as he panted, trying to regain some kind of sense.
“Oooooooo...” The single letter was dragged from the Joker’s lips in one obscene string as his back remained arched, standing on his toes as he held onto Bruce for balance. Then not a moment after he pulled out and thrust back in and Bruce met him halfway with a mixed moan.
The Joker built up a punishing rhythm, a frantic push and pull of his hips that left Bruce gasping and unable to do more then make garbled noises and curses in comparison to the Joker’s throaty groans and whines.
It was tearing him apart from the inside, then the Joker took firm hold of Bruce’s cock again and started fisting it furiously. The friction was dry but it was what made him cry out, hands curling into tight fists around his restraints as his balls tightened and he spilled over the Joker’s hand, body convulsing and shuddering.
The Joker continued to piston his hips in and out of Bruce’s ass for a few more seconds before he came with garbled mess of nonsense and whines on his lips, spilling his seed deep in his enemies body before he collapsed over Bruce and the room fell into a deafening silence.
It was impossible to measure the time spent with just the sound of each other breathing. But when Bruce’s body no longer had the strength to move, only then did the Joker pull out of him with a wince and cut the bonds that held the vigilante in place. He felt them fall away as the Joker took his time to saw at the ropes with one of his switchblades. Every muscle found some way to relax against the barrel as he was given room to move, but the Joker didn’t untie his hands.
Hooking soiled fingers in the collar of the suit, the Joker dragged Bruce into a standing position that brought every ache new and old to the forefront. The Joker attacked the bit of armor that covered Bruce’s throat and it fell to theground soon after. Mangeled lips latching on his throat, biting and sucking at a racing pulse point. Bruce groaned.
Bruce shifted away and the Joker growled, clawing at the armor over his chest and shoulders, mouth fastened on like an animal determined to mark it’s mate. Bruce’s throat felt raw by the time the Joker had finished and cut the last bond holding his wrists.
Even though they both knew that nothing had truly been untied as much as they'd been tightened.
"See you soon, lover." The Joker crooned in his ear before the pressure of his body was gone. Leaving Bruce alone with gasoline on his lips.