overlithe (overlithe) wrote in batmanjoker, @ 2009-05-04 22:03:00 |
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Current mood: | bored |
Entry tags: | author: mirandafox, fanfic, kink: bondage, kink: dub-con, one-shot fic, rating: nc17 |
Reflections.
Original poster: mirandafox
Title: Reflections.
Disclaimer: All characters featured are the intellectual property of D.C. Comics and Time Warner. No infringement is intended with their usage.
Universe: Nolanverse.
Summary: Bruce wants to know what the Joker really fears.
Word Count: 2,491.
Rating: NC-17.
Pairing: Batman/Joker.
The Joker had been surprised, but pleased nonetheless, when Batman had actually suggested a little off-duty meeting. It had always been he - the Joker - who initiated everything. Even before their relationship had taken a rather odd, but certainly not unpleasant, turn.
At first, the Joker had been suspicious. It wasn’t in Bats’ nature to do something like this, largely because it meant acknowledging they were lovers and he’d been doing an excellent job of avoiding doing so for months. Could this not be some sneaky set up devised with Commissioner Gordon to hand the Joker yet another one-way ticket to Arkham Asylum, the dullest place on earth?
Overall, he tended to doubt it.
If Bats were going to try and pull something like that, he would’ve done it already. Maybe, just maybe…he was actually starting to loosen up a bit. Okay, so that idea made the Joker guffaw every time it came to him but, he reasoned, it wasn’t impossible.
-
Bruce gazed down at the garbage-strewn streets below him with a mixture of sadness and fury. Sadness for the good people who had to call this place home due to extreme poverty, and fury that no one else was interested in helping them get away from this hellish place.
That, however, was soon to change. Bruce had decided to fund a huge regeneration project in the Narrows. In fact, the building he was standing in now – a decayed, practically unliveable apartment block – was due to be torn down next month. He’d made sure the few remaining tenants had been re-housed, so the place was completely deserted, save for himself.
Which was why Bruce had invited the Joker here. A rare grin crept across his face as he re-checked to make sure everything was in place. The Joker was in for one hell of a shock when he got there. What Bruce had planned was something he was definitely not going to like. At all.
-
An excitable rapping on the dilapidated door announced the Clown Prince’s typically theatrical arrival. Bruce tried not to seem too excited, knowing that would be a dead giveaway that things weren’t quite what they seemed. The Joker was nothing if not shrewd. He also took great delight in the fact that their…meet ups were a source of angst for Bruce and he wasn’t entirely sure they would be quite so appealing if the Joker realised that was no longer the case.
Bruce opened the door, taking in the sight before him. The cracked, caked makeup, scarred mouth, yellow teeth that had clearly never been seen by an orthodontist in many years…he should have been utterly revolting. At one time, the Joker’s countenance had, quite literally, been the stuff of Bruce’s nightmares. He had lost count of how many times he had replayed Rachel’s death in his head, only in the dream version he saw the Joker watching him, face twisted with sadistic glee as he observed Batman’s failure over and over again.
Those dreams had stopped after they had fucked for the first time. Bruce didn’t really want to give too much thought as to what that could possibly mean.
He nodded curtly and opened the door a little wider, stepping back to let the Joker in.
“No kiss? I’m heartbroken! You’re so coooold Brucey.”
Bruce did allow himself a small smile then. “I thought that was what you liked best about me.”
“Oh, it is! Especially - ” the Joker flicked his tongue across his scars as he looked Bruce up and down, smearing his bright red lipstick a little. “ – When I get to make you melt.”
Bruce simply stared at him dubiously. “That’s the worst line I’ve ever heard.”
The Joker rolled his eyes and tutted, but offered no further commentary. He was distracted by what he could see over Bruce’s shoulder.
“Oooh. Oh my,” the Joker breathed. “Bruce, I had no idea…” Despite himself, Bruce was pleased with his reaction. As much as he hated this man and often wished him harm, he nevertheless was drawn to him as a lover. As such, his lover’s approval was pleasing, even though it was going to be short-lived.
“So,” the Joker said, turning back to face Bruce. “Who’s handcuffing who?”
Bruce kept his expression neutral. “Go lie on the bed and stop talking.”
“Excellent.”
The Joker undressed and did as asked, but when he lay on his back and willingly held his wrists above his head, Bruce stopped him.
“No, no, I want you on your front.”
“But you said - ”
“Shut up and do it!” Bruce snapped impatiently. Before the Joker had arrived, he had turned the bed around so the head of it was facing the outer room and the foot was jammed up against the wall.
The Joker bitched and moaned about Bruce and his ‘God complex’ or some such nonsense, but rolled over anyway. Bruce secured his wrists, trying to ignore the flush creeping across his cheeks. Even though they had done similar things together plenty of times, he still felt utterly embarrassed by it. Bruce wasn’t sure if it was because the Joker was a man or because he was a man who also happened to be a murderer.
Pushing his inner monologue aside, Bruce couldn’t help but run a hand down the Joker’s broad and surprisingly unmarked back, loving the feeling of his skin, which was softer and cleaner than usual. It appeared that the Joker had actually taken a bath recently, something he had not done before that Bruce could recall.
His hand continued it’s descent, the Joker letting out a hum of approval when it slid over his undeniably gorgeous ass. Bruce couldn’t resist giving it a little pinch, causing the Joker to flinch and giggle.
Satisfied, Bruce stood up and left the room. The Joker peered over his shoulder, straining to see what he was doing.
A few minutes later, Bruce reappeared, carrying a full-length mirror. It was rather like the ones they had in department stores, with it’s own stand. The Joker’s smile grew impossibly wide when he saw it and Bruce felt a twinge of guilt over the fact he was about to ruin the fun for him.
“Hang on, that’s not all,” Bruce said, heading for the kitchen, or what passed for the kitchen anyway. It was really nothing more than a grubby little rectangular room with barely enough room for basic appliances.
The Joker sighed loudly. “Not that I don’t appreciate all the planning – and I certainly do, by the way, this is the only kind of scheming I like – but could you possibly hurry this up?”
Bruce came straight back into the room with a damp cloth clutched in his right hand. “That fast enough for you?”
“Yeah, I suppose…what’s that for?” He asked, nodding towards the cloth.
“Your makeup,” Bruce replied simply.
There was a heavy pause. Bruce watched the Joker’s face become twisted with an anger he had never seen before, not even when the ferries hadn’t blown up as the Joker had been so sure they would.
“WHAT!?”
“You heard.” He crouched down in front of his lover, reaching out almost tenderly. The Joker tried to squirm away, bearing his disgusting teeth in a feral snarl.
“Don’t. Touch. Me.”
Bruce ignored him and began to firmly scrub at the Joker’s skin, stripping away the layers of hardened makeup, his armour as it were. It took longer than anticipated because of how thickly caked on it was. Bruce sat back on his heels when he was finished, contemplating the sight of the Joker’s naked face. The Joker was silent, his fury apparently now beyond words.
The Joker’s skin was freckly and – no denying it – he was attractive, if you overlooked the scars. Bruce could easily imagine that he had been quite striking before the scarring and it was another thing for him to be intrigued by.
Before Bruce could give it anymore thought, the Joker finally found his voice again. “What the hell do you think your playing at? Is this what you brought me here for?”
“No.” Bruce said. “We’re gonna have sex too.”
The Joker’s gaze flicked to the mirror and understanding dawned at last. “I never thought I’d be saying this to you,” he said slowly. “But you cannot be serious.”
“Well, I didn’t expect you’d like the set-up,” Bruce replied with a shrug. He picked the lube up off of the bedside table, his heart beating faster with anticipation of, at the very least, an interesting night ahead.
The Joker was clearly perplexed. “Uh, what’s the point then? If you were going to call quits on us, I would’ve preferred a beating, to be frank.”
Bruce started to undress, ignoring him. He sat down on the edge of the bed and finally answered the Joker’s question. “Because I had a feeling it would humiliate you.”
The Joker gave him a look that seemed an awful lot like…he was actually a little bit impressed. It was quickly replaced by anger once again but the edge seemed to have gone. After all, hadn’t the sex been initiated by the Joker with the express reason of further humiliating Batman? He had no real right to complain because the tables had been turned.
“I won’t look,” the clown growled.
Bruce leaned over and whispered in his left ear, “yes, you will.”
“Fuck you.”
Bruce chuckled low in his throat and gave the Joker’s ear a sharp nip in response. The Joker jerked back and tried to pull away. Ignoring his struggles, Bruce began to kiss slowly down his neck, biting him hard at the nape. Despite himself, the Joker let out a moan, arching into the rough touch.
“Not so bad, is it?” Bruce whispered as he kept going, lower and lower, enjoying the reactions, especially knowing the Joker probably hated the fact he was enjoying it.
The Joker didn’t answer and Bruce could see from the reflection in the mirror that his eyes were tightly shut. There was really only one way Bruce knew to force him to watch and the idea made him grin widely.
He slicked his fingers with lube, ignoring the sighs and huffs from his lover, and slowly pushed one in. The Joker’s attitude improved almost immediately, but he was still keeping his eyes shut and still mumbling insults. But those quickly turned to moans and muttered pleasure. This, above all, was why Bruce had kept coming back to the Joker, despite all the pain and immeasurable guilt he suffered through afterwards.
For an hour or two, it was Bruce who had the control over this untameable force of nature. The kind of control he had only ever held once before and even then, it had not been held for long. The Joker had once boasted that he always had an ace in the hole and so far, the boast had proven true.
Bruce kept going, adding a second finger, then a third, deliberately drawing it out as long as possible, bringing the Joker to the edge and then keeping him there, knowing it would drive him crazy and make him beg for it.
“C’mon, c’mon, please! We haven’t got all night…well, you haven’t anyway, heh!”
Ignoring him, Bruce leaned over the Joker’s back, making sure not to put all his weight on him. “You want this?”
“YES!”
“Open your eyes.”
The Joker saw immediately that he had been completely suckered. “Oh…oh, I get it now! Heheha, very clever Bats. But I’m afraid my answer is still no.”
“Well, we’ll see won’t we?”
-
The Joker massaged his wrists absently. He didn’t mind the stinging where the handcuffs had rubbed; actually it was a very nice feeling. Nothing really ever mattered in life unless there was pain involved somehow, as far as he was concerned. If the Joker were honest, he was intent on soothing the raw flesh as a means of ignoring Bruce Wayne.
The sadist in him had to admire dear old Bats’ balls. In fact, the Joker wasn’t angry at all anymore. Whether it was because the sex had been utterly mind-blowing (which was just wrong, even by the Joker’s non-existent standards of right and wrong) or because it signalled a huge step forward in Operation: Corrupt The Batman he wasn’t sure.
What he did know was that seeing that face, the one from the quotidian life the Joker no longer remembered nor wanted to remember, didn’t disgust him anymore. He didn’t like looking at it, it might as well belong to a stranger, but he didn’t loathe the sight of it anymore either.
Bruce came back in from what the Joker guessed was the kitchen. For the first time in a long time, he seemed just the slightest bit nervous. Brucey clearly wasn’t entirely sure what the Joker’s reaction was going to be at being beaten at his own game.
“It’s okay, Bats. I, uh, won’t be cutting anything off.” He giggled at the look of disgust on Bruce’s face at the joke.
“How reassuring.”
Scowling, the Joker rose to his feet and approached the other man, locking gazes. Okay, so he was still a leetle bit angry that his very favourite toy had tried playing head games with him for a change.
“Just so I don’t wonder,” the Joker said. “What gave you the idea for this, ah, little set-up?”
Bruce stared at him for a long time, apparently not sure how to answer. When the Joker made as if to leave, he caught him by the shoulder and spun him back to face him.
“I was reading your Arkham file last week,” he said. “One of the doctors talked about how violently you reacted when they first took your make-up off. They also noticed you wouldn’t really look at your reflection when you were there.”
“So?”
“So…I had a theory and I wanted to see if I was right.”
The Joker cocked his head, genuinely intrigued now. “What theory, exactly?”
Bruce reached up and gently caressed the Joker’s still-bare face. “That you’re afraid of him, whoever he was. You don’t like being reminded that you were someone else. See, the thing is…you say you have no fear but, in a way, fear is what drives you.”
The Joker snorted and smacked the oddly gentle hand away. “No. That’s not it at all. I’m not afraid of anything.”
As with everything the Joker said, it wasn’t essentially a lie. He couldn’t be afraid of whoever the hell he had been once, because that person didn’t exist any longer; ergo there was no one out there he feared.
“Really.” Was all Bruce said.