overlithe (overlithe) wrote in batmanjoker, @ 2009-05-21 08:43:00 |
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Current location: | USA |
Current mood: | cheerful |
Current music: | morning noises |
Entry tags: | author: ragcat, chaptered story: the date, fanfic, knight vs anarchy round 9, rating: r, team anarchy |
Team Anarchy-Round 9-"The Date, Part V"--fic
Original poster: ragcat
Title: The Date, Pt. V
Author: Ragcat
Prompt: Carve Your Name Into My Arm--Every Me and Every You, Placebo
Word Count: 2921
Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, Joker, or DC Comics or Nolanverse anything.
Rating: R
Warnings: Oral Sex,Slash, Language, Ouch-y things
Summary: Bruce has an unexpected series of unwelcome visitors.
Part I: http://community.livejournal.com/batman
Part IV: http://community.livejournal.com/batman
* * *
Whistling cheerfully, Bruce unlocked the door to his luxury office suite on the top floor of Wayne Towers. He deposited his briefcase next to his very large lacquered-top desk, and was just about to seat himself in his custom made black leather desk chair when the peaceful solitude of his domain was shattered by a low, devilish laugh.
Bruce whirled around to see the Joker, out of costume and contentedly perched on the bank of rich oak filing cabinets lining the wall, stretched out with one knee pulled up and his head propped on his left hand. His long blond curls were illuminated by the light from the window behind him, creating a halo-like aura that reminded Bruce of a perverse angel.
He was grinning like the damn Cheshire cat, a dazzling grin that sent a shot of desire through the brunet's groin, and Bruce was furious with himself for feeling a rush of delighted excitement that caused his stomach to jump. This was wrong, so very, very wrong....
"Jack! What the hell! How did you find me, how did you get in here?" barked Bruce.
"Bor-ring. Ask me something interesting." The Joker swung his long legs off the cabinet and smoothly hopped to the floor. He then gracefully pulled himself into an upright posture, flicking at invisible detritus on the sleeves of his sport jacket.
Bruce flexed his fists. How was this man able to hit him square in the lust-center of his brain while at the same time making him want to beat the living crap out of him?
"All right, how's this--would you like to be able to walk out of here on your own, or would you prefer to be carried out on a stretcher?"
"Aw, gee, aren't you the tough guy. I'm a wiry little scrapper, aren't ya afraid you might scuff up that custom Italian suit?" Jack waved a finger up and down at Bruce's sartorial splendor.
"Come on over here and we'll see."
The surprise guest sauntered toward Bruce who instinctively stepped behind his desk where he had a few things he could use as weapons, such as a letter opener, a heavy paperweight, scissors...oh, shit, what was he thinking? He didn't want to battle the Joker in his own office.
"Just keep your distance. Now, again, how the hell did you get in here?"
"Oh, who the hell cares? Aren't you glad to see me?"
"Glad to see you! You have no business being here!"
"Oh, now, that's just not true."
"How do you figure?"
"Haven't you ever heard of a follow-up visit?"
"A follow-up....what?"
"I'm a professional, Mr...Smith, heh-heh...my clients' satisfaction is my number one priority...I just wanted to drop by and see how you were doing after our...session, the other night...." The Joker now leaned expansively on Bruce's desk, his hands spread wide apart, the dark eyes shimmering with something Bruce couldn't identify--menace? Mischief?...Desire?
"Session? That was...look, I don't want you here, what happened the other night served its purpose, but that's all. You did a very good job, but I don't want to see you ever again, don't you understand? And, how the hell did you find me, I want to know!"
The Joker picked up Bruce's gold name plaque and examined it with interest. He turned it to face its owner and waggled it playfully.
"I realize I've breached the agency's client confidentiality policy, Mr. Waaayne, but I neglected to get your contact information after fulfilling your...exacting requirements for my services the other night...you're not going to lodge a complaint about me, are you?" The Joker's grin had spun into a wicked smile.
"I'm going to bodily throw you out of here if you don't leave on your own...."
"Umm, now that sounds interesting, but I actually came here for a very specific purpose."
"If you think you're going to blackmail me, forget it...."
"Blackmail you?" The Joker put on an exaggeratedly hurt expression. "What must you think of me! I wouldn't do that! The agency'd fire me for sure...."
"You're not here to blackmail me?"
"Uh-uh."
"Then, what the hell do you want?"
"Ah, a relevant question! Now you're talking....Look handsome, I just want another date with you." The Joker hopped up onto Bruce's desk, pulled up his knees and wrapped his arms around them. He cocked an eyebrow, awaiting Bruce's reaction.
"What? You're cra...hey, get off my desk, you're going to scratch it..."
The Joker rolled his eyes, and continued, "Jesus, rich nancy boys....Look, we had a great time together, right?"
Bruce just stared.
"Sure we did! I thought we really hit it off! We've got a lot in common, don't you think?"
"I most certainly do not...." spat Bruce.
"Really? Well, anyway, I just thought, hey, wouldn't it be nice to see my new pal again? You know, on a strictly recreational occasion?"
"Listen, I am done with you, I will not be 'seeing' you again, nor do I ever want to find you in my office...."
The Joker shook his head sorrowfully.
"Aw, now you're mad. I was a little impulsive, hey, do you not like that? I'll just jot that down in your profile for future reference, let's see, 'Not into the spontaneity thing...." the Joker frowned thoughtfully as he pretended to write on an invisible clip board.
"GET OUT!"
"Oh, come on Brucey, can't you loosen up a little? You suuure did the other night...." The clown lasciviously licked his lips and winked.
Bruce was just contemplating wrapping his hands around the bastard's scrawny neck, to shut him up if nothing else, when a frantic-sounding female voice came over Bruce's intercom. It was his personal secretary, Janine.
"Mr. Wayne! There's someone here to see you immediately, and he won't take no for an answer!"
"Janine, I'm very busy right now, whoever it is will have to wait!"
"He's not willing to wait! He's....hey, you can't go in there! Come back here, please!"
Just then there was a rapid-fire knock on Bruce's office door. He and the Joker glanced at each other.
"Get out of here!" hissed Bruce.
"Sure, and how would you recommend I do that, got a secret exit or something?"
"No! Ok, then, hide!" Bruce gestured toward a door which led to his private bathroom.
"Ok..." To Bruce's dismay, the Joker scrambled over the expanse of Bruce's desk-top, knocking several things to the floor, and joined him behind it. They were nose to nose for a brief moment, then Jack dropped down, folded himself up and slid into the secluded leg-space under the desk.
"Hey, this is cozy, there's room enough for two, come on down!"
"I don't think so, just stay there and be quiet..." The Joker giggled and reached up to grab Bruce's crotch.
"Stop that!" Bruce roughly grabbed the offending hand and flung it away from himself.
Just as the Joker's hand obediently disappeared back under the desk, the door opened and a large, heavy-set man lumbered in.
"Wayne, I'm sorry, but I don't have time for formalities..." boomed a thick, Texas drawl. Close at his heels was Bruce's secretary.
"Mr. Wayne, I'm so sorry, I tried to stop him, but..." Janine wailed.
"It's all right, I'll take care of this. Bobby Ray, how are you doing? What brings you back to Gotham so soon?" Janine, flustered, backed out of the room, and the two businessmen shook hands and took their seats, the Texan in front of Bruce's desk, the billionaire behind it. Momentarily forgetting his unwelcome visitor under the desk, Bruce was startled when he swung his foot sharply forward and ran into something soft--the Joker's stomach--and was horrified to hear a muffled exhalation of pain. He anxiously watched Bobby Ray's face, but the big man was oblivious. Bruce recalled the Texan was a tad hard of hearing.
The Texan did notice Bruce's gasp of pain in response to the Joker's retaliatory bite on his ankle.
"What the hell's the matter with you, Wayne? Got a crawdad up your shorts?"
"N-no, just a little foot cramp, sorry, now, where were we? Oh, yes, how can I help you, Bobby Ray?"
"Wayne, do you keep up with the news?" Johnson asked accusingly.
"The news? Well, yes, more or less...."
"Then you are aware that there is a madman loose in the streets of Gotham?"
"A...madman?" Bruce took a deep breath. "I don't...uh, I'm not sure what you're referring to...."
"There's this bastard in a clown mask pullin' bank jobs and jewelry heists all over town, and the crazy fucker got one of my banks night afore last--I want to know what the hell you're gonna do about it!"
Bruce's face twisted into a deep frown.
"I'm sorry to hear that, but what in the world do you think I can do about it?" Bruce asked, mystified. There was no way the man could know of his Batman persona....
"That bank is in one of YOUR buildings, and I have several branches in other Wayne properties, too! Now, I expect you to do something about your crummy security systems or I will pull my business right out of your lousy real estate market and...." The man went on in the same vein for a long while.
Bruce did his best to appear properly concerned and sympathetic to his guest, but found it increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that the Joker had untied and pulled off one of his shoes. That was disturbing enough, but then his sock was pulled off. Then, his pants leg was pulled up to mid-calf and the clown was now ministering to the deep teeth marks he had left earlier by running his tongue soothingly over the indentations before he began helpfully licking a path downward toward Bruce's exposed toes.
The brunet hastily tried to jerk and twist his foot away, desperate to maintain a placid countenance, but well aware of how difficult the situation was about to become due to the fact that Bruce was extremely ticklish on his feet, and that the Joker now held his foot with a solid grip, and that wet tongue was headed to the sole of his....
The Texan stared, perplexed, as Bruce yelped and shot up and out of his chair.
"What the HELL'S the matter with you, boy?" the man demanded churlishly. He didn't register the muffled laughter that wafted from under the desk directly into Bruce's ears....
"N-nothing, it's just that foot cramp came back and...."
"Wayne, have you heard a single word I've said?"
"Yes, yes I have, and I can assure you, I will have someone take care of...your problem right away. I appreciate your giving me the opportunity to correct...."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, don't piss on me and tell me that it's raining, cowboy. Just know that if I lose another dollar to that, what's he calling himself, that JOKER bastard, I'll pack up all my money and take it back to Texas, understand?"
"Absolutely." The men shook hands again and the big Texas banker swaggered out of the office.
Dazed, Bruce sat down again, trying to remember who the hell was in charge of rental property security systems, when he suddenly realized the Joker had surfaced, knelt between his thighs, pulled his fly open and was busily going about the task of taking Bruce's cock out of his pants.
"Now, STOP THAT! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE...." Bruce blurted furiously as he instinctively struggled to evade those long, curious fingers delving inside his boxer shorts.
"Sh-sh-sh, just relax a minute...slippery little devil, isn't it?" asked Jack, his face a study in concentration as Bruce writhed uselessly in his chair.
"STOP IT!"
"Well, it won't take itself out!"
"GET AWAY FROM ME!"
"Oh, don't be such a killjoy, this is a complimentary customer appreciation gift, no extra charge...."
"NO! NO, stop it! Don't! STOP!...Uh, don't, um, stop...don't stop, oh, shit...."
The Joker's scarred lips were doing dirty, delicious things to the quickly awakening member, his tongue was warm and knowing, and Bruce could feel control and logic melting away into the clown's demanding mouth, soon leaving him in a semi-catatonic state of pleasure and relaxation that was most unprofessional.
The Joker had one hand wrapped low, and was attending to the upper area with suction alternating with licking action, when Janine abruptly flung open Bruce's office door.
"Mr. Wayne, I am very upset! May I speak with you a moment?" she asked tearfully.
The startled billionaire jerked his body forward, desperate to prevent his secretary from noticing the mop of curly blond hair inexplicably nesting in his lap, but the move forced the back of the Joker's head to violently meet the sharp edge of Bruce's middle drawer, and the surprise mixed with the pain caused the clown to unintentionally bite down hard on the object in his mouth, which resulted in a strangled scream from the billionaire.
Janine stared in horror as her boss, grasping at his crotch and whirling around to protect his modesty, frantically yelled "Get OUT!!" over his shoulder at her. Bursting into a renewed bout of tears, she ran from the office and slammed the door behind her.
The Joker came out from under the desk, ruefully rubbing the back of his head, then checking his fingers for blood, as Bruce miserably sank back into his chair, panting with stifled moans as the aftershock of the injury fully hit his brain.
"Will you PLEASE get out, now?" he wheezed painfully. Jack regarded him with some concern.
"No, no, no, we have to treat that, big guy. See why I carry an emergency kit with me on client calls? Ya never know what's going to happen. 'Course, I didn't think I'd need it today...."
"Just get out...." Bruce pleaded.
"Uh-uh, human bites are very dangerous! Come on, come on, let's go take care of this...." Authoritatively, he yanked Bruce out of the chair and began dragging him toward the bathroom.
"Wait a minute!" Bruce hastily grabbed for his falling trousers as he stumbled after the clown. He allowed himself to be led to the sink, where Jack ran some warm water onto a washcloth and knelt in front of the dark-haired man to examine the damage.
"Hmm, well, I definitely left my mark on you....that broke the skin, top and, uh, bottom," he announced as he began to clean the affected area. "I bet that hurts!" he commented cheerily.
"It hurts like fucking crazy...." Bruce moaned piteously.
"Yeah, well I got more bad news for ya," the Joker stated as he rose to his feet and checked the medicine cabinet. "The only antiseptic you have is rubbing alcohol."
"NO!" shouted Bruce, vainly trying to scramble away from the criminal's ministrations.
"Just hold still, don't be such a baby! You don't want to get an infection, do you?" They struggled briefly until the Joker clamped an arm around Bruce's waist in an iron grasp and unceremoniously poured half the bottle over Bruce's penis. Bruce gave a sharp, high-pitched screech like one in torment.
"OH SHIT! Shit, shit, shit...." Bruce gurgled in agony, bending in two and clutching himself. How he wished they were in some alley, he in his Kevlar, him in his greasepaint, so that Bats could smash his obnoxious little face in....
"Hey, you're not the only one that got hurt, you know. My head hurts, and it's your fault!" said the jester accusingly.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck...." Bruce moaned.
The Joker stared in consternation like a kid with a broken toy. He sniffed irritably before announcing sarcastically, "Well, this has been fun, but I should be going...." Obviously, his plan to figure out where he'd previously met the big guy had taken a bad turn. He'd never relax enough to spill the beans now. He'd have to take another, uh, stab at it another day. Resignedly, Jack turned, still rubbing the back of his head, and Bruce's pain-clouded vision cleared enough to realize that the bastard really was leaving.
"Wait!" he rasped.
"What?" Jack turned back impatiently.
"Don't you want to plan our date?" Bruce asked weakly. What the fuck? Had he really SAID that?? Oh, God....
Jack stared a moment, then his face dissolved into a pleased grin. Maybe he could get his question answered after all....
"Well, sure! How about Wednesday? Maybe you'll have healed up by then...."
"Ok..." agreed Bruce hopelessly.
"And, if not...."--The Joker was at Bruce's side in an instant--"maybe we can just...talk. You know--get to know each other a little better." He pressed a deep kiss on the ailing billionaire's lips and was then gone in a flash, leaving Bruce to numbly stare after him.
The worst of the pain having finally passed, Bruce bent over the sink and washed his face. Before pulling up his pants, he gingerly examined the wounded areas. Teeth marks. The damn Joker's teeth marks, carved into the most sensitive skin on his body!! And here he was, planning to see the madman again in two day's time....
Clearly, he was going insane. Clearly, he needed to ...something triggered a thought in Bruce's memory. He opened the medicine cabinet.
There, in plain sight, sat a fresh tube of soothing antiseptic pain-relieving gel, guaranteed not to burn. Bruce picked it up and glared at the doorway, as if the clown were still in the room.
Clearly, Batman needed to arrange for a nice long unprofessional encounter with the Joker....one that would result in the clown needing lots of bandages...and a lot of rubbing alcohol.