I know you feel me; that's my blood on your hands. (The Dark Knight)
Title: I know you feel me; that's my blood on your hands.
Author: Kate (deanscookie)
Rating: PG-13 for violence and innuendo
Category: Slash; Batman/Joker
Word Count: 622
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Batman's running in endless circles with the Joker and he needs to know why.
Disclaimer: It belongs to DC and Warner Bros. Dammit.
Notes: While I didn't think The Dark Knight was as superawesomely-awesome-great-amazing-epic as most people did, I did like the Joker and the Joker/Batman relationship very much. So, I claimed them at un_love_you and here we go! :) This is for prompt #13 I want to hurt you. Beta'd by the amazing papered.
"I KNOW YOU FEEL ME; THAT'S MY BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS."
The Bat strikes him hard across the chin. A carnival of lights explode across his vision and he falls, wheezing and cackling.
The sharp, metallic tang tastes like home.
"Again, again," he coughs, dragging himself to his feet. "C'mon, Batsy!"
"You're sick."
The low, growling voice sends goosebumps across his skin. Like an avalanche, heavy stones crashing down a hill to bury him in darkness. Scraping and sliding together, against his skin, until there's nothing left of him but blood and pain.
He wants more. He needs more. More pain, more anger, more of Batman's hard hands on his flesh.
He throws himself at the Bat, howling with laughter and waving his fists wildly.
Batman closes one hand around his throat and swings him around, slamming him into the ground. The mad laughter is cut off as all of the air leaves his chest.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Batman's voice is angry, desperate, confused; his dark, cowled face leaned down so it's just inches away.
He can feel the Bat's heavy breathing on his cheek, smell the sweat, blood and agony.
More!
"That's all you got? Tsk, tsk! You know, Dent's little girlfriend hit harder than that and she-"
The Bat's fist swings so fast he doesn't see it coming. But he knows it came because the carnival is back and he's pretty sure his nose is broken. Oh, well. It's not like his face could get any worse.
He's silent for once, simply staring at Batman.
And Batman's staring back: eyes glinting sharply, frantically scanning his face, trying to understand.
"Do you really not know? Do you not see it, Batsy?" He can't believe that the masked man doesn't realize it yet.
"Tell me why."
He sighs, longsuffering. "Because I need you."
"Why?" The Bat's in his face, furious again.
He twists his mouth up in a smile. "Why, for the same reason you need me, of course. To feel."
Those black eyes are panicking now. "I don't know what you mean."
"Sure you do."
The Bat's scrambling away. "You're insane!"
He follows, reaching out and snagging the black cape fluttering in the wind, pulling Batman closer again. He licks his lips and whispers into the night.
"Tell me it's not the same for you, then. Tell me that you're not empty and cold when you're not fighting me. Tell me you don't go home and lie awake every night dreaming of my blood on your hands. Tell me you don't spend every day feeling lost, desperate, until you see me on the news. Burning your precious city to ash and waiting for you."
The Bat's trembling now, but not trying to move away.
He leans in closer, his lips against Batman's cheek. "Tell me that spilling my blood, breaking my bones with your bare hands, doesn't get you off more than anything else in the world."
He licks his lips again, tastes the Bat's cheek, tastes sweat.
"It does for me. I don't feel anything, anyone. Nothing, nothing but you. And your hands, and your voice against my skin. And I need-more. It's never enough, I need more, more, more..."
His hands are wandering now, over the Bat's broad chest, fingers tracing imaginary patterns.
"C'mon, Batsy," he hisses again, baring his teeth, scraping Batman's cheek. "Hurt me real good."
And then Batman's shoving him away, jumping up. "Stay away from me," he growls, but there's a tremor in those words. The Bat turns and disappears silently into night.
Silent. Always silent.
Until the laughter. Wild, mad, uncontrollable.
"You didn't tell me, Batman! You-you didn't-"
He's cackling too hard to speak anymore. He had thought he was winning, but he was wrong.
He's already won.
The Bat is his.
FINIS.
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Author: Kate (deanscookie)
Rating: PG-13 for violence and innuendo
Category: Slash; Batman/Joker
Word Count: 622
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Batman's running in endless circles with the Joker and he needs to know why.
Disclaimer: It belongs to DC and Warner Bros. Dammit.
Notes: While I didn't think The Dark Knight was as superawesomely-awesome-great-amazing-epic as most people did, I did like the Joker and the Joker/Batman relationship very much. So, I claimed them at un_love_you and here we go! :) This is for prompt #13 I want to hurt you. Beta'd by the amazing papered.
"I KNOW YOU FEEL ME; THAT'S MY BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS."
The Bat strikes him hard across the chin. A carnival of lights explode across his vision and he falls, wheezing and cackling.
The sharp, metallic tang tastes like home.
"Again, again," he coughs, dragging himself to his feet. "C'mon, Batsy!"
"You're sick."
The low, growling voice sends goosebumps across his skin. Like an avalanche, heavy stones crashing down a hill to bury him in darkness. Scraping and sliding together, against his skin, until there's nothing left of him but blood and pain.
He wants more. He needs more. More pain, more anger, more of Batman's hard hands on his flesh.
He throws himself at the Bat, howling with laughter and waving his fists wildly.
Batman closes one hand around his throat and swings him around, slamming him into the ground. The mad laughter is cut off as all of the air leaves his chest.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Batman's voice is angry, desperate, confused; his dark, cowled face leaned down so it's just inches away.
He can feel the Bat's heavy breathing on his cheek, smell the sweat, blood and agony.
More!
"That's all you got? Tsk, tsk! You know, Dent's little girlfriend hit harder than that and she-"
The Bat's fist swings so fast he doesn't see it coming. But he knows it came because the carnival is back and he's pretty sure his nose is broken. Oh, well. It's not like his face could get any worse.
He's silent for once, simply staring at Batman.
And Batman's staring back: eyes glinting sharply, frantically scanning his face, trying to understand.
"Do you really not know? Do you not see it, Batsy?" He can't believe that the masked man doesn't realize it yet.
"Tell me why."
He sighs, longsuffering. "Because I need you."
"Why?" The Bat's in his face, furious again.
He twists his mouth up in a smile. "Why, for the same reason you need me, of course. To feel."
Those black eyes are panicking now. "I don't know what you mean."
"Sure you do."
The Bat's scrambling away. "You're insane!"
He follows, reaching out and snagging the black cape fluttering in the wind, pulling Batman closer again. He licks his lips and whispers into the night.
"Tell me it's not the same for you, then. Tell me that you're not empty and cold when you're not fighting me. Tell me you don't go home and lie awake every night dreaming of my blood on your hands. Tell me you don't spend every day feeling lost, desperate, until you see me on the news. Burning your precious city to ash and waiting for you."
The Bat's trembling now, but not trying to move away.
He leans in closer, his lips against Batman's cheek. "Tell me that spilling my blood, breaking my bones with your bare hands, doesn't get you off more than anything else in the world."
He licks his lips again, tastes the Bat's cheek, tastes sweat.
"It does for me. I don't feel anything, anyone. Nothing, nothing but you. And your hands, and your voice against my skin. And I need-more. It's never enough, I need more, more, more..."
His hands are wandering now, over the Bat's broad chest, fingers tracing imaginary patterns.
"C'mon, Batsy," he hisses again, baring his teeth, scraping Batman's cheek. "Hurt me real good."
And then Batman's shoving him away, jumping up. "Stay away from me," he growls, but there's a tremor in those words. The Bat turns and disappears silently into night.
Silent. Always silent.
Until the laughter. Wild, mad, uncontrollable.
"You didn't tell me, Batman! You-you didn't-"
He's cackling too hard to speak anymore. He had thought he was winning, but he was wrong.
He's already won.
The Bat is his.
FINIS.
• Feedback is yummy, sparkly love. <3
• Like it? Want more? Friend it!