Team Knight- Round 5- Fic

[newbluemoon]

 Title: Vicissitude
Author: newbluemoon
Prompt: First sight
Rating: R
Disclaimer:  I only own my warped mind and I don't really want it. Everything else is DC's.
Summary: Our favourite clown prince of crime recalls his first time seeing his darling Bat.
Warnings: Pre-slash, masturbation, references to m/m contact, bible references made by an atheist so they're probably wrong. XD
Word Count: 4027

Author's Notes: I managed to write this remarkably fast, and I'm actually astounded by how quick I wrote it. Which probably means it's unreasonably crappy. XD This is written in 1st person from Joker's POV and I don't think I captured him well at all, but I guess it will have to do for now. (:


* * *

In the beginning, there was nothing. Well if I'm honest- and when am I not honest?- that's not exactly true; there was a lot of grey. So much grey, swirling around and around, mixing into a seamless line of repetition in the wind, coating the air with the pungent stench of boooring. There was monotony stirring in the clouds, waiting like acid rain to pour down on unsuspecting heads, melting them like the face of a district attorney. There was a void. A hollow, empty desert, filled to the brim with a day on loop. A small heist, maybe? Perhaps there was an assassination. Maybe two. Who knows? It wasn't relevant then, and it certainly isn't relevant now.

Even the wind was barren back then. There was no underlying hint of threat held within the grip of a gust of icy air. No tempestuous, volatile excitement whispering in the fresh brutal breeze of this gem of a city as it slithered through the darkness like a ba- Heh. No, not then. I remember the taste of something not quite finished; like a cookie missing that vital ingredient. I spat it out. But I kept tasting, looking for that perfect... cookie. Everything was lacking a certain something. I nearly drove myself- heh- out of my mind trying to put my finger on it, but no matter how many times I pulled out a fistful of my beautiful chartreuse coloured locks, I just couldn't place it. The only thing I knew, was that the existence I lived out, the latent life that was more than a puppet on strings, but not quite the puppeteer, it wasn't going to be permanent. I knew that right away. When you matter, you know it. It tingles inside of you in dusty corners every time you look over the exact same blank, mirthless face on a different body over and over again and you just have to grin, wide and face splitting, because these zombies, these 'people'? They just don't exist. And it's hysterical because they don't even know! They think they mean something. And that's why they cry isn't it? Weeping for a life they never used and will never get the chance to. They don't understand that they're just chess pieces in this cosmic game we play. And it was frustrating to say the least. No-one knew. Not a single soul but me. And we all know, there's no point in a joke with no-one to laugh along with. So the days carried on. Grey, grey, grey. I was right the first time. In the beginning, there was nothing.

But then, then something changed. I don't know where I was or what I was doing, it didn't matter. But I could feel something shift in the air. Reality had stopped being warped. Out of nowhere, things had a pinch of 'real' to them. Something had erupted in the ether and my senses went wild. I needed to know what is was. But I'm a patient man, and there's nothing worse than rushing the punchline to a joke, so I waited. I sat there with a smile on my face, feeling the buzz of a distant electric fire as it began to consume the mundane ebb and flow of savage boredom, spontaneously combusting into something alive. There was something different about the city. And it made every single atom of my body vibrate with the knowledge that finally the joke could be told.

There were whispers of corruption, okay they were more like screams, but everyone knew it was something more this time. This case with the pretty lawyer-girl and the pretty doctor-boy was important. Even the clones out there walking the never ending slabs of cement could tell that much. But they didn't know why. Oh no, but I did. I knew something special was coming. It felt pre-ordained, I won't lie. Like a sick sense of a fatal prophecy coming true and ripping lives open like gall wounds and watching the flesh fester. It was beautiful. I would sit there bouncing up and down, climbing walls, walking alleys, just waiting. There were moments of doubt, moments of weakness because why was it taking so long? I had begun to feel the creeping fingers of paranoia sink into my lovely maimed flesh as if my body questioned the sensations that I knew I could feel. More voices, more shapes and swirls and patterns and people that were never there. But it couldn't be, it couldn't be, I could feel it, I knewsomethingwasdifferentsomethinghadcha-

And then there was a night a little too foggy. A little too cold for the time of year and just a tad too dark for a city illuminated with bright lights. And the hurricanes inside my head subsided like an angry fit under a sleeping pill because all the time I spent waiting disappeared. Time stopped being linear again. Became insignificant because it, he, was finally here. I went to sleep that night.

When I woke up. There were reports of men tied to lights, of signs in the sky, of a man in a bat suit and I stood and cackled for what could have been hours, seconds, minutes, I couldn't tell because he'd ripped open the time-space continuum, changed the entire universe with just that simple news report. Tears ran down my face and I wheezed and coughed and cried out names that wouldn't form the first syllable because it was just so perfect. The news was a distant hum in the background, filling my aura with talk of a masked vigilante but I wasn't paying attention. I knew these people were talking about my other half. I could feel in inside the marrow of my bones, the tingling surface of my skin. He was going to be mine. Their opinions meant very little.

So I went out to track down and observe this creature they called 'Batman' and it was such a ridiculous name. Ludicrous! Insaaane. And soososo perfect for a Joker. I found him at a clichéd rusty warehouse at the rusty docks a few days before the attacks in the Narrows caused by that bearded fellow. He was looming around in corners, using the darkness as his own personal cape. Bending the elements to his will as he sprang down and subdued some little punk, not even worth a scratch on this godly creation's, this monster's shiny-shiny armour. I didn't even have to bite my painted lips to conceal laughter- none came. I crouched there in my little hidey-hole, mouth agape, eyes wider than a stoner's, in shock. In awe. The way his body moved! The never ending blur of limbs coming up and crashing down with non-lethal precision. Carefully calculating each move, and yet never planning. The way his head whipped around, more alert than lasers, at any new semblance of threat.

He knew I was there. He must've done. But he didn't acknowledge me, didn't look in my direction. But I caught the tiniest of shivers coat his body. This brutal, savage force shuddered for me!! Like he could sense my gaze on him. That was the instant I knew that he knew something explosive was coming on fast. And not those silly little warm up rounds with Ichabod and Mr Miyagi either. But something so potent, so undeniably, desperately inevitable that the universe quaked in anticipation of its arrival. A little something called 'forever' and it had just arrived. And it was so fucking funny, I could've doubled over then and there, shrieking and foaming at the mouth under the hilarity because it was so imminent! And he didn't even know who I was yet! So, I brought my hand up to my mouth, about to clear my throat and announce myself to this spectacular freak when a band of thugs appeared, dragging in containers of sorts, alerting my (because he was instantly mine, I needed no confirmation of this fact) Bat to their presence and he hurled himself towards them with an incredible effortless force.

And those fists were back, lashing out, striking and knocking out with little exertion. What those muscles must be capable of! It was an incredible concept. The fearlessness, the rage the passion in the way he took those two-bit idiots out flowed through the space between us and penetrated the surface of my eyeballs and I was hooked. It was the only thing I'd ever seen of any relevance, and I was immediately addicted. His body trapped in that finely sculpted armour moved in ways I could never have imagined. He projected power and authority, danger dripping off him in buckets. He was magnificent. And those eyes!! I'm not one for gushing girlishly... well not often anyway, it's not like I can help it with my Bat, now is it? But those peepers of his just ripped out the pulp of my world and stomped on it with a ferocious vehement. The rich cobalt blue colour twinkled with life and mixed with the dark colour of rage as he stormed through the criminals, unleashing his raw bat-fury full force in turbulent waves of vigorous might. And they glistened under the wicked moonlight pouring in through the filthy windows. For the first time, I saw a pair of eyes that weren't empty, that weren't dead and I wanted them on me. I needed them to look at me. I would make sure I captured that gaze and for it to never truly leave mine again. The blue of the sea meeting the green of the earth. How fucking appropriate. Opposite sides making a whole. Can't have on without the other. Destined. It was in the air. And to imagine that look, so pure and unfiltered directed at me, boring in to the inner coils of my pink, spongy brain, scraping through everything that made me me, it was so...Oh.

Breath escaped my lungs like a mad patient out of an asylum. There was a sensation unlike any I'd ever felt before. And something, heh, something wasn't lying so, uh, motionless as before. He moved something in me with that look, with those muscles and with that power and I felt dazed. Nothing would be the same after this. I felt a compulsion, an urge to touch, I didn't know why. How could I? And the concept was so funny, I didn't know what to do; laugh, yell, give in. And I was just about to do all of the above, but there was a whip of a cape. I looked up. He was gone.

I lay in a grimy bed that night, in a house belonging to the lucky chap who met his end during my celebrations after I finally left the spot where my world changed forever, a grin on my face that was so much more than just scars, every sparse inch of my body aflame with intoxicating elation. My mind tumbled with the images my eager eyes had taken in, recounting them, playing them back, but not like the old rickety clips coated with cavities and projected on ripped screens of my usual memories. No. Everything was in high quality. So crisp. I could see every movement in the finest definition, smell the scents of the room I stood in perfectly, I could still hear those grunts.

I shifted awkwardly as the Bat's fist connected with an oh so serious, grave face in my mind, unleashing a delicious river of russet-coloured liquid out of the little thugs mouth. Oh god, just what would it feel like for him to spill my blood? For me to be the one on the uh, receiving end? I writhed around in the mangy sheets, not at all used to the feelings that swelled within my cells, pumping venomously dangerous blood around my body, my breath quicker than I ever heard it before. I looked down. My pants were tight around the groin, and I could see the evidence of the arrival of my missing piece as clear as day, standing up through purple material. I don't second guess myself. Ever. My impulses haven't lead me astray yet, so I went with the flow and touched. Just a little. And then some more, all the while imagining the beautiful wacky bat-character with his herculean strength and strong jaw and centipede-blue eyes. The pants had to go. Off with their heads!! And I was touching skin, skin that wasn't supposed to respond that way, but I wrapped my hand around myself, pumping like my senses told me I should. And I giggled so loud, I could've woken up the neighbours, had I not evicted them a few hours prior. Each laugh was perforated by a low, gasping moan and I wanted to be disgusted with myself for such a human response. But the thoughts of the man in Kevlar kept coming, the fight becoming twisted and transferring itself onto me, until I was the one his fists were meeting. The rage belonged to me. And stars popped under my tightly squeezed eyelids- and whoa when did I even close them?- as I ,worked my fist on my pulsing cock. Heh, what a funny word. Cock. Dick, penis, member. Phallus. Batmanbatmanbatman.

Pleasure spiked through my veins, circling deliciously deep within me, igniting a passion I was more than happy to keep sleeping. But now that it was awake, oh boy was it awake! I felt something sticky pooling at the head of my length- and it's quite an impressive length, thank you- and laughter attempted to shake my sweat-licked framed but I just couldn't stop the moans from coming this time. Because Batman was beating me downdowndown into the pavement, not relenting, watching my skin bruise like the delicate little peach I am. And I could see in imaginary-Bat's eyes, he liked it. I knew right then and there, hand on my hard-on, face distorted in psychiatrist-worthy sick pleasure, that Batman was going to enjoy me. And that thought had me arching and bucking like a whore cheap enough to match the lipstick coated on my face. I'd need to get some more of that, something told me more than a bit of it would be lost in red smears on a certain someone's uniform in the coming months.

I added a little tug, a bit of a twist and viola! I was almost there, whoever said orgasms were hard were a filthy, dirty liar. I was already edging on completion, these thoughts driving every last one of my senses and neurons absolutely wild. It felt like the entire world was melting like candle wax in the sky and falling down on top of me, consuming me as I fell into a deep chasm of ecstasy. I just couldn't place why I hadn't done this before. It was so rich in pleasure, and the Batman was giving it to me. Oh, right now it was just little ol' me. But not in the future. Oh no. I knew the Batman would take a special liking to me. The fun we were going to have!!

My balls were pounding now as I reached the edge of this dandy new game, the power of the vigilante still worming through my thoughts. Each punch, imaginary yet more real than anything I'd ever experienced before, burned with precious pleasure-pain and I dug my nails into my dick, the pain laced with an undeniable feeling and shivers racked the rope of my spine and I twisted around and around, toes curling, lip tucked in, and my, my someone's got a mouth on them don't they, Joker old boy? Tisk. Your mother would wash it out for you. Hehehehee...

The Batman was laying swift, iron kicks into my ribs now. Making me wheeze and splutter, coughing up blood that could only be spilt by him. I pictured a knife in his hand, carving my body, taking me as his, like I knew I would make him mine. And it was so hysterical,it wasn't even funny any more. But I wanted that pain, I wanted it from him. To see him thrive in such sweet chaos, like I knew he could. He could take anarchy and make it his bitch if he wanted. He could swim in the choppy seas of death and destruction with me. I tasted copper in my mouth. It was like the purest holy water, grounding me in this limbo. My senses were overloaded and I danced with revelry, dreaming of this man I never knew and yet knew better than myself. I bit down hard on my lip, sucking out the liquid like some kind of vampire. Like a vampire bat. Bat. Hurt me Batman.

C'mon, IwantyoutodoitIwantyoutodit! HITME.

In my mind, the final blow came and so did I, shaking and exploding in a way I only thought the most well thought out bombs could. It felt peculiar but fucking fantastic. More of that same gooey fluid flowed from me and my mouth fell open and what I must've looked like! I lay there, shivering in the aftershocks, feeling the foreign warm buzz take me over. A grin washed over my features and I must've been positively glowing for all the heat my skin was radiating. I looked down at my come-coated body and laughed long and hard. I'd looked into the future and seen its glory. So I brought a shaky, semen covered hand up to my headed and saluted the future version of myself in respect and admiration. I'm saluting right back now. It was all so hilarious, so right, so royally fucked up. So Batman and Joker. He just didn't know it yet.

The very next day I made haste and got right to work. I had an armed robbery and double homicide to prepare for. The Bat would know I was coming.

* * *

It seems so long ago now looking back, and it should- so many years have passed since then, and yet it doesn't at all. Every second is a fresh new heartbeat pulsing in my brain. The memory lives like it's the present. But we've been dancing for years, he and I, and it's more exciting then I could've ever imagined back then. I'll never tire of this man with his pointy ears and gravel-raw voice or his never ending brooding session. He's far too much fun. What would life be like without his useless morals and incorruptible methods of crime fighting? Well, maybe not quite so 'incorruptible'.

You see, just like that night all those moons ago, way back before all the Cats and Crocs and Crazies, back even before fried girlfriends and molten District Attorneys, I can feel the same kind of edge to the atmosphere. Something is going to change tonight. He thinks I haven't noticed. Stupid, gorgeous Bats. My Batsy. Mine, all mine. But I have. See, he's been a little too enthusiastic recently. There's been a bit too much of his usually well-hidden glee exposed in that hard glare of his when we fight. He's not supposed to smirk at my lewd comments, but he does. And it shocked me the first time, stole the smile right off of my lips, but it was there. The teeniest knowing, slanted smile I've ever seen, and most deinfitley the most picturesque sight in this whole damn city. And he's been spending far too much time pressing into my backside as he pins me against his lovely little Batmobile. He doesn't even back off when I press back, waggling my rear against his groin. Testing. Even when I moan, because how can I not moan when the bat cock is pushing against my ass, he carries on, breaking boundaries and rules, telling me in his not-so-elloquent manner that he's not quite as wholesome as he's been making out all these years.

Eventually, he'll pull back, feigning disgust and hatred, but I can see the furnace burn in his sapphire orbs as he hauls me into his car. I'm not pig-headed, my name's not Edward, but I know he wants something from me that's a little less socially acceptable than the normal brand of a superhero/villain relationship. But the Bat and I have never been normal. Oh, you should've seen the look on Superman's face the first time he saw my poopsy and I tango! The Bat remained oblivious, but I caught the way the alien's eyes sprang open as Batman's behaviour got a little too close to intimacy with his darling clown. His sadism, my masochism all on show for the girlscout to gawk at. Batsy didn't even ask what I was laughing so hard at, but I had a feeling Supes knew.

I've been dropping hints for years, since our first meeting. A little pet name here and there, a lingering touch, a bouquet of flowers evey now and then and I know my Bat isn't naïve enough to remain oblivious. I'm pretty sure that after that first private chat of ours, he knew my true feelings. He's astute that way, and I didn't exactly hide them. Why should I? I'm not ashamed. There's no-one else to be embarrassed for. No-one exists but he and I. He tries to pretend he thinks otherwise, but I know he knows it's the truth. But his ties to these tragically dull people hinder him time and time again from acting on what his inner demons want. Need. But not tonight. Nu-uh. It's like a gas in the air, slowly, invisibly making its way toward its victim, then striking down, chocking and obliterating. I know tonight will be the night. I chuckle lightly and inspect my knife, wiping a smear against the lapels of a quivering hostage I have tied up as I wait for my Batman. My true other half. I stare out the dust-kissed window into the inky night sky and I tell my hostage a little story to pass the time. A story about a clown and a knight who masquerades as a prince and all the chaos they cause. It's pure fantasy of course, but I don't let him know that. And I don't let him know that tonight I'm going to get a little taste of that fairytale perfect chaos with my darling either; that's between me and the Bat.

He'll come to me, ruthless violence on full blast, pretending he cares about these hostages. He doesn't. Hasn't for at least a year. It's all an excuse to play. We'll fight, I'll make jokes, we'll dance, he'll restrain me and play the hero, I'll let him. And there will be looks that linger for a heartbeat too long, a touch more than a bit too heated and tonight, there will be something a lot more raw. Finally, he'll release everything that has been boiling between us for the past three and a half years and we'll sizzle and come apart and melt together for the first time. Thank fuck, there's only so much time a clown can spend with blue balls. Corruption will at last grace his impenetrable stance, even if it's not the particular brand of corruption that I've been making it out to the world I want from him. It will be the sweetest tasting self-destruction of them all. I can already taste it in the air. Tonight, my Bat will be more 'mine' than he has ever been before. Because madness and gravity only take a little push but apparently coital relations between enemies takes years of building unresolved sexual tension. But that doesn't matter now. We're so freaking close. A light comes on in the sky. He's coming.

Let the games begin.