Slipping Into Entropy - Part 32 - NSFW
In the morning, Bruce woke too early. He'd slept deeply, but woke uncomfortably, like he hadn't moved all night. He wanted to go back to sleep, and drifted in and out of it. As soon as he found it, something would pull him back into the waking world. It must have happened at least five times, each making him groggy and disoriented and thoroughly sick of the experience.
Joker had remained where he was, fortified in his corner. He'd spotted a little fridge in the corner of the room, known it must contain at least alcohol... but decided, for once, that that idea wasn't wise. As much as he wanted to drown the turmoil and relax, he had to be on his guard against Bat now. It was challenging enough to bring the man down without being drunk as well.
When Bruce finally pulled himself out of bed, not finding the Joker in the immediate area, he assumed the man had either gone to sleep in another room, or left. The latter idea put him ill at ease. He brushed his teeth and took a quick shower, soaking up the warmth and trying to let it work out the knots in his arms and neck, but it could only do so much. Dressing in a pair of jeans and a tee shirt when he was finished, he hurried through the morning routine. It woke him up sufficiently though. Enough so to venture into the living room.
The dark-rimmed eyes of the sleep deprived turned at once to the figure entering the room, kitchen knife held ready in true paranoid fashion. There were no smiles or teasing for the Bat this morning. "...awake, then?"
Bruce was at once relieved and apprehensive about finding the Joker awake and waiting for him in a corner of the gilded room. After a brief pause, he moved into it. "You look like you could use a cup of coffee even more than I do." He ventured into the kitchen with one eye on the Joker and his knives.
Eyes following him cautiously as he moved across the room, his fingers tightened on the knife as his mind tried to gauge whether it'd be enough should the Bat try to take him. Maybe. Maybe not. He remembered the man saying something about wanting to go somewhere that he wouldn't like to lead him in their farce of a tour. He wondered whether Bruce still had that in mind, or if it had all gone out the window with the trust between them.
The aroma of coffee soon wafted throughout the room. Bruce dug through the refrigerator, finding already prepared sandwiches. Not much for breakfast food, but he was alright with that. He took them and the coffee back to the living room, taking a seat on a small coffee table opposite the Joker's corner. "Don't suppose you'd be interested in breakfast?" he offered, unwrapping one of the sandwiches.
Gaze flickering between his suddenly-polite captor and the offered food, Joker hesitated, his distrust plainly showing on his face. ...what is he up to? Levering himself to his feet, the madman pondered the pros and cons of spurning the show of hospitality before hunger won out over caution and spite. Approaching slowly, his hand white-knuckled on the knife handle, he stopped just outside of Bruce's reach.
Bruce scooted over on the table. Probably not the most practical of chairs, but he didn't mind. Breaking it was the least of his worries on this trip. He set a cup and a sandwich in the open space and began eating his own.
Inching forward, Joker snatched the sandwich and retreated back to his corner, not wanting to burden both hands and render himself defenseless. Leaning back against the gaudy papered walls, he virtually inhaled what he'd been given; for a man who usually never complained about it, he seemed to be constantly starving.
Bruce drank his coffee and watched the Joker. This was madness. The situation. The both of them. All of it. So he sat, and watched, and wondered if the caffeine would kick start his brain into sense again or not. The Joker, suddenly on edge around him, obviously thought things between them had changed last night as far as loyalty and trust went; he didn't. The thing that upturned his sanity between then and now was the the other man's impromptu confession.
Joker only seemed to get more nervous and off-balance the more Bruce stared. "...stop looking at me," he finally hissed, wolfing down the last of the sandwich. Setting the wrapper aside on another small end table, he glanced at the coffee, wondering if he dared get close again to take it.
Bruce's eyes fell to the cup in his hands at the Joker's request. They stayed there as he turned things over silently. He could feel the eyes on him and on the steaming cup at his side. It didn't matter if he could see Joker or not.
"..........thank you." Not looking up. Not looking up. "For coming here. For.....everything."
There was silence, then a sort of choked sound halfway between laughter and sobbing. Joker just stared at Bruce like he'd suddenly become mad, his free hand pressed against the aching bullet wound. "Thank you? The Bat thanks me. He demands all my secrets without giving any in return, makes my existence a hell, and then thanks me. Eh-ha HA...heha..." Slipping into a crouch without warning, Joker suddenly shut his eyes, both hands gripping his head as he rocked on his heels.
Biting back a very harsh reply about who exactly had shown up out of the blue with certain demands bent on wrecking lives, Bruce sat there staring at a still cup of coffee in his hands, waiting for the Joker to ride it out. Eventually his eyes flashed up to drill imaginary lasers into the laughing man's skull.
Crawling forward and lurching back to his feet, the green haired man finally crept close again to snatch up the coffee mug, baring missing sloshing it all over himself in his haste to get back out of reach. Resigned to whatever the Bat had decided, he he gladly downed the coffee. He had a feeling he was going to need to be as alert as possible today.
Bruce rose and left him there in the corner. He went to the kitchen and dumped out the rest of his drink. He needed to get ahold of his head again. Everything felt off kilter. He leaned over the sink trying to reign the world in again. It was like being dizzy, but it was all in his head. He could see no way out of the hell they'd brought upon themselves.
"So, Bat. Did you make a decision? Or are you going to drag me through some new hellhole today and never tell me your mind?" Joker called, quickly emptying his cup. He still felt exhausted, but a little more energy was better than nothing.
Eyes still closed, Bruce focused on the voice behind him. "I'll be going there no matter what I decide. And whether you're with me or not." His hands clenched and unclenched, the anxiety, the.....fear, inside of him manifesting itself outwardly in a way he usually had better control of. He could leap off buildings, drive though explosions of flame and shrapnel, go undercover and become friendly with men who would kill him in a second if they knew who he really was. He could give press conferences, speak calmly in front of thousands of people, live in the most desolate places of the world and survive. And what he was about to do scared him more than any of it.
He turned around and stood at the threshold of the kitchen and the living room. "I want to end this battle." And it was.....more than that. If the Joker were gone......if the man he'd come to know over the past week was suddenly on the opposite side of the fence again, the story of Bruce's life wouldn't make sense anymore. Somehow............somehow....... "I don't want you to go. I don't want to fight you, at least, not like.....not like that." He swallowed, the words were difficult to speak, difficult to allow existence out in the world. "I won't let harm come to you any longer. And......you don't have to be afraid of me." Once this decision was made, Bruce knew he wouldn't go back on it. If he was making the wrong one, he wouldn't be able to undo it. He should have felt like he was giving up his life, but it.....didn't. Life was hard. That was just the way things were. "I need you, here, with me."
As much as Bruce had said that there would be no more need for fear, the madman's eyes were filled with it. For all that he professed that he wanted it, was drawn toward such a conclusion, it was the same sort of magnetic compulsion that brought a moth into the heart of a flame. A part of him still screamed for him to stop, fight and run away, live wild and free on the very edge of society and civilization.
His hands clenched unconsciously, and he started out of his shocked trance to find a knife still in his hand. "...how do I know what you mean, whether you'll keep your word?"
"Because I know what you're asking for now." Bruce stood as still as a statue. He barely blinked as he addressed the Joker. "And because.....I feel it, too." He wanted to lower his head, but staved off the motion. "I fought for Rachel until the day she died. And long after." The muscles in his jaw clenched tight. "Once I mean it.....I can't stop."
Swallowing hard, Joker kept staring back fearfully, not even a twinge of a smile pulling at his mouth. With such a serious expression and the lack of exaggerated makeup, it was all the more apparent just how much younger the man really was. Despite himself, he took slow, hesitant steps forward, looking lost and out of place.
Seeing this, Bruce's stationary pose dissolved. His expression thawed, and he closed the distance between them. Hands found their way to the shorter man's upper arms, making sure he was real, maybe even giving him a moment to see that Bruce was as well. He wasn't sure what to do, but he couldn't remove his eyes from the Joker's.
He started when hands grasped his arms, the fear in his eyes flashing even brighter for a moment with the sensation of being trapped and drawn in. He'd do any number of atrocities without flinching, but his nerves failed him at the thought of someone else having so much power and control over him again. The knife finally fell from his numb fingers, hitting the carpet with a dull thud. His hands found their way to Bruce's waist, the touch light with uncertainty as he tried to divine an answer from the other man's gaze.
Bruce sighed as though the weight of the world had eased from his shoulders. His eyes closed. His universe contracted down to nothing outside a radius of five feet. His hands ghosted up the Joker's arms and into his hair. Bruce looked to see an expression likely quite similar to his own. It helped to ease his reservations. Finally, he leaned forward and kissed him.
The man's green eyes rolled back into his head, the fear still present... but something drawing him further in, obsession deepened into something he never knew he possessed. Hands drifting up from Bruce's waist to duck under his shirt, encircle the warmth hidden underneath, he finally sighed and gave in, rising up on the balls of his feet to return the kiss.
It felt glorious. It felt horrific. It was torture and bliss, living and dying all at once. Joker wondered whether he'd regret it and wish the Bat had killed him when he'd asked.
Shivers created by the Joker's hands ran up and down Bruce's spine. He pressed closer, fingers kneading through Joker's hair. When the kiss broke, he didn't move. He was pressed, forehead to forehead with the other man, holding that way as it sank in.
Joker's eyes had gone dark, gazing back at Bruce as if he couldn't quite believe what was happening. Something seemed to finally click with him, and his arms tightened, his nail digging into Bruce's skin like claws as he pulled him closer until the lines of their bodies were flush together. "...be careful. Don't chain me down and... take away what... I need, I am. I couldn't survive that."
"Just don't hurt anyone anymore," Bruce gasped out. "If you need a fight, you can fight me." His heart was pounding in his chest, his arms were trembling with the shock of what he was letting go. "Do that....." his breath faltered, "and I'll let you go free."
Joker's eyes filled with a sort of sorrowful amusement. "I don't know if I can. I can promise to try." He wasn't sure whether he could put it in words, make the other man understand. "...things just... happen. Make it worth my while, give me something else... and I promise to try." Rising up on his toes again, a flicker of his usual manic smile returned. "...I may take you up on that fighting, though."
Already out of his element, Bruce flushed at this. He tilted his head, dipping closer, letting his breath mingle with the Joker's. Strange how the visibility of his scars was a small comfort. "I'll still be there to stop you." His tongue ran over the cut on the lower lip. "I'll do whatever I can....."
"I'm counting on it. I enjoy a challenge." Closing his eyes at the velvet touch, a small chuckle escaped him. "...don't ever think you're going to tame me, though. You'll have to fight for every last inch if I don't decide to give it. Or find some other way to convince me," he suggested, leaning in to nip at Bruce's throat.
"Joker....," Bruce sighed. "Shut. Up."
He took hold of the green matted head and brought it up to his own, taking those lips in fully this time. His hands strayed languidly through the Joker's hair, and for once his movements weren't quite so hurried. He had to admit to himself that he had no idea how this would work. But, since they had formed even a minute understanding, what the Joker said was true; he hadn't betrayed Bruce so far. Not yet. Bruce was gambling with his own life and the lives of everyone he cared for now. Such a short time in the Joker's presence was not much to base trust on at all......but it was intoxicating. He'd gotten glimpses of things he'd never suspected before. It was a gamble, a big one. But even he could sense that he was slipping......and the only way to proceed without bloodshed....well.....
Moaning in return, his own fingers wandered as Bruce stroked through his hair. The feeling was odd and new to him, yet strangely pleasing and comforting. Biting the taller man's lower lip hungrily, his hands slipped away from the warmth to duck into the space between them, fumbling with the buttons holding his lover's shirt in place.
There was still room for the Bat to betray him; he was nothing if not the product of experience, and experience had taught him to always be prepared. Still, the situation and Bruce's reaction to it made that probability less likely than before. He decided to enjoy it while he could and hope that it was real, lasting.
Bruce didn't notice his buttons had been undone until Joker's hands were slipping inside his shirt. Finally he released the other man's mouth. Kissing the Joker wasn't like kissing anyone he ever had before. Maybe Bruce's fascination amplified the effect and it was all in his mind, but he swore the man knew at least subconsciously what interest those scars could hold.
Noticing the look Bruce was giving him, Joker returned it with a sly tilt to his head. He knew. "...go ahead, Bats," he purred, sliding one hand to Bruce's wrist and guiding him up to the jagged ruins on one side of his face. "Touch all you want. I'm not going to complain." Done with his shirt, the lunatic's hands moved on to lower articles of clothing. His eyes, however, never left Bruce's face.
The Joker's scars felt like....like any deep scars, except that they were located on such a malleable area of the face. For as often as Bruce had pretended to ignore them when they'd first met, he really couldn't get over them. They didn't so much make Joker look like he was literally smiling as they were simply an added feature to his face. Striking, even without the makeup. Maybe more so.
Watching Bruce's expression as the man explored the artificial ravines marking his flesh, he finally managed to work past another barrier. Dipping a hand below the darkhaired man's waistline, his fingers sought out the heat he knew would be there, finding it easily. Gently stroking around already-damp ridges, his scars moved under Bruce's fingertips as he smirked.
With a sudden intake of breath, Bruce's jaw went slack and heat couldn't decide whether to rush to his face or pool under the Joker's hand. A part of his mind registered just how proud Joker looked - of his face or what he was doing with that hand, Bruce didn't know. With a groan he reclaimed Joker's lips and began pulling the man's shirt free of his pants in return.
A ripple of victorious pleasure rocked him as his actions seemed to win him an enthusiastic assault. Rewarding his lover by wrapping his hand around the man's length, he squeezed and slid his fingers over the head, teasing him with the friction. He yielded immediately when he felt an answering pressure at his mouth, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. He would never have believed that he'd be so helplessly under another's sway before, much less that it would happen in so short a time, but here he was. He didn't even want to think of what he'd do for his Bat if he only asked. He's mine, now. Really mine... The thought sent another wave of violent, possessive feelings through Joker, pressing him forward.
The enthusiasm didn't go unnoticed. Each motion of the Joker's hand pulled Bruce's mind further into disarray. He finally got Joker's pants halfway down his hips, just enough to get what he wanted. First he mimicked the other man's motions, keeping time with him, then he brought their hips and hands together, wrapping his larger hand around the both of them.
Drawing a sharp breath when he was paid back a little of his own medicine, he was content only for a few moments. Growling into Bruce's mouth, he broke the kiss, his eyes alight and fierce. "Don't tell me this is going to be all? I want more," he grumbled, his free hand darting up to tangle in dark hair, tugging gently.
Bruce snarled in response, his hair pulled and those lips gone, but the rest of him was on fire. With sudden force, he shoved the Joker off him who teetered backward a few steps before Bruce caught up with him again. The backs of his legs ran into the couch, but Bruce basically bowled him into it anyway. "I thought. I told you. To be quiet." He caught one leg up between the Joker's before he pulled the other man's pants the rest of the way down. "And let me work."
"Hmm. Are you going to make me be quiet?" Joker laughed back. As much as he teased, the slender man didn't seem to mind Bruce's dominant demeanor in the slightest; on the contrary, it only brought a deeper flush to his face and spark to his eyes. "I like to take turns every once in awhile, you know. At the very least, you might grab some lotion this time. It wouldn't do if you tore something important, now would it?" Although half-serious, the man was clearly leading Bruce on, tugging on his chain to see what reaction he'd get.
Pushing himself up while one hand wandered through strands of green hair, Bruce considered the other man with a sly expression. "I thought you enjoyed the pain." Pulling free of the tendrils of hair, he matted it back and away from the Joker's face. He glanced around the area, eyes falling on the little coffee table. There was a drawer in the center of it, and Bruce cocked his head to the side, pulling it open, wondering if..... Of course. "For Bruce Wayne, hotels like this always carry lube."
Pulling out a little bottle, he gave it a curious look. Funny thing, he actually didn't know how this had started. He made it a point to snag as many beautiful girls as he could hold when traveling, but one way or another by many most unfortunate accidents, they rarely made it through the door of his rooms. But now, it spread like wildfire wherever he would go. He began to suspect some pretty interesting tales were circulating about him among the gold digging housekeepers.
"Mmm. It's nice to have a variety, though. I'd offer to let you carve a matching initial, but the bullet hole might ruin it right now." Watching the ripples of muscle flowing beneath Bruce's skin as he moved, he couldn't help but lick his lips. "...since when did you start doing that because you thought I might like it? I had thought you had started it as a sort of punishment. Or you thought it was. I hadn't realized we'd gone from needing Anger Management classes to 'being a considerate lover'," he chuckled, wondering if Bats would enforce his request to be silent.
One corner of Bruce's mouth quirked up. He ground his hips down with the Joker's, wanting his pants off now. He pulled them down his hips only to meet with the Joker's skin again a moment later. Bruce shut him up by shoving his tongue down that scarred mouth. His hands, now complete with oil, wandered down Joker's sides, not caring how much of it went where exactly. At least he was making use of it for a change. He coated their erections with it, easing the motion between them. With a generous application to his fingers, lingering before those green eyes in order to watch the movement, he slipped them inside the man lying beneath him.
Eyes widening at the difference in sensation, Joker's body stiffened under Bruce, inhaling sharply before moaning into his opposite's mouth. He hadn't missed the man's half-smile, and it sent perfect tingles up and down his spine. Twining his fingers in Bruce's dark hair, he moved slightly and tilted his hips, encouraging him with a mischievous glint in his eye. That's the thing, Bat: when you win, you get to enjoy the prize.
Heat and tension pooled in the pit of Bruce's stomach as he changed the angle of his hand to match the Joker's hips. He was moving as though offering up his entire body to Bruce, or at least the sensation. Releasing Joker's lips, Bruce curled over him, opposite the way the slighter man's spine curved outward, biting and licking at the man's neck. He couldn't decide if all his dearly valued patience had left him or if this was a new sense to be savored.
The response was immediate, a cry of pleasure and a turning of his head to offer a greater expanse of delicate, sensitive flesh. Bruce could tear at his neck until his lifeblood spilt out on the floor, if he wanted to; Joker wouldn't deny him. One hand still stroking through his lover's hair, the other wandered further down, blissfully scratching light lines over his powerful frame as his breath caught.
A slight shiver trailed after Joker's fingers. They called Bruce closer. He answered, pulling himself flush against the body beneath him and lifting the Joker's hips further by catching an arm underneath his lower back. After what to him felt like far too long, he pulled his fingers free and positioned his hips to take their place. In one long plunge, he was buried deep inside.
Joker's head tilted back, eyes shut as his mouth opened in a keening wail of pleasure. Without thinking, he snaked his arms and legs around Bruce, pulling them together as close as possible. It was more than just a physical sensation; this was different than any other time they'd joined before. It felt like the connection between them, the dance between light and dark, had finally been accepted and embraced, bonding them in a different way.
It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. He wondered if Bruce felt it too, but was too caught up in the dizzying rush to ponder for long.
Bruce was suddenly seeing stars behind his eyelids. The way Joker bucked up to meet him, moving so fluidly with wild enthusiasm, was driving him mad. He must be mad now, for all his anger was gone and he couldn't muster it back. He didn't know where it went, it had simply evaporated. He felt like the highest man on earth, with the Joker underneath him, the man who had made his life miserable and euphoric one after another, and he didn't need anything right now to reinforce that feeling.
The greenhaired man simply writhed beneath him and tried to hold on for dear life, gradually reaching his arms behind his head to grab onto arm of the couch, trying to anchor himself as Bruce continued to thrust all coherent thoughts out of his mind. His breath coming in pants and low moans, Joker slitted his eyes open to glance at Bat and nearly lost himself right then, drinking in his expression. He'd given in completely, and after doing so, Bruce had followed.
Bruce caught the Joker's gaze, and snarled back, feeling like the king of the earth. He felt it was a sufficient reply, or perhaps words had just failed him at the moment. He was gasping and groaning regularly, both arms now wrapped under the Joker's back, pulling him down to meet Bruce's hips with every thrust. The tension was coiling inside him, sweat was pooling in the dips and crevices of his back, the hair swinging down from his forehead damp with it.
Joker suddenly tightened around him, screaming bloody murder and arching up against the thrusts meeting his body at a steadily increasing pace. Unlike before, he didn't just cling, then go limp; the madman seemed to be overwhelmed with his climax, flailing wildly and writhing before finally grabbing onto Bruce, his nails digging bloody furrows down his back.
Shouting along with him, Bruce drove him into the couch until he released just as hard, the strong muscles in his arms, legs, and torso bunching together to keep the wormlike Joker in place. The frantic wiggling, squirming, clamp around his body drove the fire inside him to new heights. So much so that he didn't know where the blood on the Joker's hands had come from as a small stream of it ran down his arm.
Joker didn't even notice the rivulets, every inch of his skin tingling as he lay beneath Bruce and panted with exhaustion. A night without sleep had not been kind, and after such an overload of nerves he didn't feel like doing anything more than curling up and sleeping, perhaps to have another round later. His eyes flicking sideways at a disheveled mane of dark hair, he raised and turned his head just enough to bite the man's neck.
Bruce, having collapsed, groaned at the nip. Tremulous aftershocks threatened every now and again. It was going to take some time for his blood pressure and heart rate to go back to normal. He buried his face in the sweat soaked curls that lay pooled around the Joker's head, and willed his breath to back to regularity.
The sound provoked a bout of low, wicked laughter from the man beneath, sparing him another lovebite, running his tongue over sweat-slicked skin instead. "...see, Bat? You have a lot more fun when you give in..." As much as Bruce had probably felt powerful and in control in the last few minutes, Joker reveled in the fact that he had rendered his opposite so speechless, helpless in his grasp. The thought just made him tighten around his lover again, keeping him close with a smug grin drifting across his features. ...who knew you could win by losing?
The embrace warmed cooling sweat across Bruce's skin, who didn't realize it was there until the Joker's limbs moved around him. He sighed into the other man's ear, at first willing himself not to move away, then... then deciding that he would rather not anyway. He could think about very little at this point. For a while, all he had thought was that he was mad, over and over like a little mantra. Now, everything was silence in his head, neither in a good way, nor a bad way, just......quiet. Eyes half open, he was awake, yet felt barely conscious. It was a while before he realized what it meant, that this was the most relaxed he had been in days.
Somehow giddy and sleepy at the same time, the madman was resisting the pull of exhaustion as much as he was able, not wanting to miss a second of this turn of events. Nuzzling at Bruce's neck, grinning manically all the while, he whispered into his ear. "...keep doing that, and you may be able to ask me for whatever you want. I think they heard us all the way down at the ground floor," he laughed. "You'll let me have a turn next time, yes? I'd like to see you writhing and screaming beneath me..."
Finally Bruce's eyes blinked open all the way. Blood that had been oh so wonderfully seeping back into his head changed direction and abruptly headed south again against his will. He lifted his head, fixing his gaze on the Joker and slowly shook it in disbelief. "I may never understand you." And with that his arms relaxed and he let his head fall back to its original position, unwilling to move anymore than that.
Joker just cackled, not having missed the internal twitching that had followed his comments. "I think that, Bruce, is the point. Besides, what does it matter what makes me tick? You know what winds me up, and that's all you need." Muscles flexing, he struggled, trying to shift their positions. "...move, Bat."
Feeling his skin flush, Bruce rolled to the side as much as possible, the couch being somewhat of a small place for two full grown men. "I'd need a streak of luck a mile wide to keep all of what winds you up straight." While he felt rather lazy now, he was waken by surprise at Joker's sudden enthusiasm. It was slightly infectious.
Green eyes blazing with the crackling, insane energy that always seemed to make up the core of his being, he tugged them further until he was on top, leaning over Bruce with a leer. "...you could always ask. You never know, I might feel like giving you a straight answer when you do. Maybe." Pushing himself up until they slid apart, he sighed. Glancing briefly at his bloodied hands, he scanned around for the bottle the other man had found, snatching it up once he spotted it.
"Maybe, " Bruce repeated after him. The Joker was like a cat locked in a room with a canary the way he was eying up Bruce. Bruce glanced down to find the J carved into his chest glaring up at him. Joker had given it to him the last time they'd done this and he hadn't really looked at it or considered it since without the other man's attention. Joker's shot wound, which was actually healing well considering, took its relative mirror image. Staring up at him under loosed bangs, Bruce waited.
The insane man pounced on him, not seeming to know entirely if he wanted to devour him or fuck him. Tangling fingers in Bruce's hair to pull his head back, gracing his mouth with a particularly savage kiss, his other hand worked blindly, coating himself with the slick liquid from the bottle. Releasing his lips, Joker moved his attention to the man's neck, shoulders and chest, alternating between tenderness and near-violence. Coating his hand when he was finished with himself, he turned mischievous eyes up to his lover's face as he slipped two fingers inside, growling.
Bruce arched his back up and into the motion, the Joker's violence stirring him back to life with startling force. As he allowed the man to bite him, claw at him, wrestling with his arms while his mouth had access to Bruce's neck, his defenses prepared for it. They played war so well together. When those fingers began stroking just the right way, he threw his head back and gave an an answering snarl, baring his teeth in true form at the Joker when he came back down. "Do it."
Smiling in response, he moved into position, then joined them together in one sudden thrust, one hand on Bruce's hip while the other cradled his head. He seemed fascinated just watching the changes on the larger man's face, the way his darker side was drawn out through his actions, every little flicker as he hit just the right angle. He grinned suddenly, leaning down. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen. What do you think they'd say, the police and those you fight, if they knew the big, bad Bat was conquered by his own prey, hmm?"
One of Bruce's hands shot up to the Joker's head, catching him by the scalp and jerking him down the few inches between them. His kiss wasn't pretty. He gnashed his teeth into the Joker's mouth, biting, tearing, drawing blood while no small amount of lust coiled up inside him. That very familiar anger reared its head, but there was a different edge to it this time. It twisted through him in little waves, wanting to hurt the Joker and to buck up against him harder and harder at the same time.
While his actions would have horrified a normal lover, causing them to reel back in pain and fear, Joker closed his eyes and moaned, moving faster and harder in response. It was a twisted dance between them, sadist and masochist perfectly matched, reveling in the bloody violence as well as the delicate touches. Joker felt like he was riding a whirlwind, in control for the moment but in danger of having it turn on him at any second. Having such a powerful creature in his thrall, much less the object of his obsession, was nothing short of ecstasy.
When Bruce tore his lips away from the Joker's, leaning back so that he could take in the man above him fully, his mouth was a bloody mess. It coated his lips and ran down the sides of his face while he was caught somewhere between a grin and a snarl. If he could have seen himself later, he would have been startled.
Joker stared down at the sight, enraptured, pausing for a moment to take the image in and burn it into his memory before taking the invitation, pushing as deep as he could. He had to admit that, besides Bruce's tendency for sadistic behavior, he had no idea of what would please the man. Settling for a rhythm that pleased him, he mimicked the tempo with his hand, gazing down at his lover with a sort of burning longing. He had what he wanted, but the hunger was still unbearable.
Bruce was arching and pushing his neck into the cushions behind him. After the pause, Joker had redoubled his efforts and they were sending Bruce into heaven. Everything came to him amplified. He was being attacked from everywhere, Joker's fist around him, the ever quickening thrust inside of him, angling just right to set his nerves on fire with every pass. Joker himself, looming like a demon over Bruce, his hair falling forward in tendrils, the tendons in his neck and shoulders pulled taut, eyes gleaming inside of dark sleep-deprived circles like holes in his face. Bruce was on the brink of either coming or combusting.
Licking bloodied lips, he attacked Bruce's chest, never breaking tempo as he traced his tongue around the dark circles on each side before pulling them lightly with his teeth. Moving up and along his shoulders until he reached the steel cords of the hero's neck, every muscle tensed from the assault, he bit along its arch. Ending up at Bruce's ear, he sped up once again, his free hand moving underneath his lover's shoulder and neck to pull him closer. "...scream."
Bruce's eyes slipped shut and his mouth fell open as a shudder ran down his spine, pooling in his groin while his hips bucked up roughly, losing all rhythm. This, he could do. For a second, just a second, he sensed the killer in the Joker's voice. It came as harsh gasps first, but it was that voice which wrenched his own free. Raising his voice up to the ceiling, it truly felt like falling.
The sense of power and control over the man, a man that so adamantly refused to be broken for long, was what finally sent him careening over the edge, urged on by screams. Screaming for him. Voicing his own ecstasy, his grip tightened as he moved frantically for those last few seconds, feeling the body tense under him as well. Snarling and grinning like some hell-sent, green eyed demon, he turned Bruce's head forcefully, making him meet his eyes. There was a pause as the man's eyelids fluttered open, and Joker leaned close. "Scream for me!"
Slickness coated the Joker's hand as Bruce, teeth bared, howled in his face. Blood and saliva ran down his chin, and as though Joker were a mirror image, it was impossible to tell which was bleeding. Bruce's body went rigid, muscles all over tightened. His fists found their way into green snarls and held on as he rode it out.
Joker's eyes closed for a moment as tightening muscles finished him off, sending shuddering waves up his spine and releasing the pool of heat at his core. His own frame slowly giving way, he kissed Bruce for the last few moments, swallowing up the last of the exquisite sounds he'd managed to pull out of his lover. Spent, fatigue as well as contentment settling into his body, the madman went limp, his pulse still humming as he tried to catch his breath.
Bruce's cheeks burned red from the Joker's kiss. Comparative to everything else, it was gentle, and he didn't know how he should take that. Was it a thanks, or was it triumph over his defeat? He was too tired to think on it long either way. He lay where he had been, breathing hard and spent, Joker's weight atop him, just as lifeless as he felt.
Burrowed against the crook of Bruce's neck, Joker didn't want to move. He felt warm, comfortable, unpressured to act on anything... and despite everything, safe and happy. He still wasn't completely positive that the Bat wouldn't hurt him, but the mornings revelations and events were reassuring. Running fingers through his partner's hair, the clown wondered briefly if he wasn't dreaming. ...I thought he'd never give in. Never.
The touch was nice.... It took some of the sweat away from Bruce's brow. He couldn't help being nervous like this, but......he could allow it, and allow himself to relax.
If this was going to be his path now, he was going to have to get used to it.
One of his own hands stroked through the Joker's hair in return, slowly, from the base of his neck up. He felt like he could easily slip into unconsciousness again.
Joker stilled, his skin tingling at the feeling. ...not dreaming. I don't think. It's always so hard to tell... He sighed, letting Bruce do whatever he wished. He vaguely remembered something about another place the man wanted to visit today, somewhere he thought would be unpleasant. He could hardly imagine what place Batman might know where he'd be uncomfortable... unless he meant to be dragging him to another part of High Society.
Drifting in and out of the waking world, Bruce's mind was brought down to the bare elements of their circumstances. Warm skin and a heavy weight covered him, fingers massaged his scalp, and sounds of contentment seeped out of the other man. Neither the past nor the future bothered him, everything existed right there in that moment. He finally lost the battle with the waking world, though admittedly he hadn't put up much of a fight.
Just as exhausted as the hero, if not more so, Joker soon followed suit, drifting off against the warmth of the body wrapped around his and the comforting, familiar smell. Despite everything, the dreams that followed were still full of unspoken horrors.
A/N: He's the Goddamn Bruce Wayne. He always has lube. XD
And still we are not finished. While we are planning and writing, Muka has asked me to make a tracklist of the soundtrack songs with all their lyrics and why I picked the songs. Gods dammit, Muka, you enjoy torturing me and making more work, don't you? -.-; That said, look for a track listing sometime in the future. Because apparently Joker isn't the only one who's masochistic.
And yes, dear Muka. This is what I was talking about when we were discussing Joker topping vs. bottoming and how it has to be done right.