overlithe (overlithe) wrote in batmanjoker, @ 2009-05-28 01:18:00 |
|
|||
Current location: | Nowhere Special |
Current mood: | thirsty |
Current music: | Static |
Entry tags: | author: thesingingbush, gotham idol round 1 |
Gotham Idol Round 1 - [thesingingbush] - Fic - [A Butler, A Bedroom, And A Video Camera]
Original poster: thesingingbush
Title: A Butler, A Bedroom, And A Video Camera
Author: thesingingbush
Disclaimer: I didn't see anything, I didn't hear anything, I didn't say anything, I didn't do anything, I don't own anything. As far as anyone's concerned, this is all a dream. Now try and sue that. XD
Rating: R (Maybe NSFW?)
Prompt: Action
Word Count: 2,827
Team: Team Knight
Summary: While cleaning up Master Wayne's bedroom, Alfred finds a video camera and accidentally watches something he wished he didn't see...
(A/N: Yaay!! My first graphic scene that doesn't involve violence!!! =D Everyone, please be gentle when commenting to this, because it is my first time writing umm....*blush* this sort of thing...u///u. Let me know if it's good, bad, needs improvement, whatever. I want to make it really good, so plz tell me how I did!!)
UPDATED: Thanks to thanks_to_god for reminding me, I added the ending piece which I was originally going to put in at the end, but of course forgot. Thank you again, Kissy!! Wuv U!! ^///^
Alfred finished wiping down the counters in the kitchen. He had personally washed and put away the dishes he and Bruce had dirtied up earlier that afternoon. He gave the kitchen one last look-around to make sure everything was at it's best before exiting and moving on to the Billionaire's quarters.
Master Wayne's bedroom was always the last thing Alfred cleaned when giving the Manor its usual once-over. The only reason he did this was because of all the rooms occupied, that one was used the least on any given day. So it required the least amount of attention. At his current age, he was always exhausted when nearing the end of a day's thorough cleaning, so this sort of thing was very welcome. He could take his time and mainly just fuss with a wrinkled sheet here and a leftover water glass there. Nothing too serious.
He only naturally assumed today would be just like all those other days, respectfully. And it was. Sort of.
Alfred made his way down the hall to the bedroom. When he went inside -unsurprising- everything was left in the exact same place since the last time he had tidied up in there. Alfred was use to it, but it still didn't stop him from pausing to scan the room, heaving a sigh through his nose of disapproval. The young heir needed sleep, and ever since Rachel died, it seemed he hardly got that anymore. If at all. And when he did, it was always at his desk, in the office during a meeting (of course) or down in the batcave, slumped over a computer screen. One time the old butler found him fast asleep standing up slowly tipping in one direction to the other. It was awful, but nothing he said or did seemed to get through to the exhausted heir. He was overworked, and unhappy. And that was that.
He went straight to work, starting with the bathroom. He took little time in cleaning it, taking an unconscious thought that it had been used recently.
Soon he moved onto the main room, dusting here, fixing there. When he reached the bed he paused, hands hovering above the sheets. The butler stared at it a little puzzled. It may have been two weeks since he last made it, but he could've sworn the top covering was tan.
It was a light salmon color now. Quite frankly a near perfect match to the previous. Anyone who might look at a before and after photo of the bed would most likely never notice the difference. But there was, and Alfred did notice. And that confused him. He was the only one who cleaned this room and changed this bed. So how (or even more along the lines of why) would anyone change it? Since no one else took up residence in the Manor the old butler could only assume it was the young heir who did it, but for the life of him he couldn't understand why. When Bruce was younger he would change it only when he had done something he didn't want anyone to find out about.
But that was then, so why...?
Alfred shook his head lightly, thinking it was of no importance as to why it had been done. He had grown tired as of late, and considered it more of a blessing that the sheets had been changed at all. It was kind of nice to not have to do it himself this time, even if it was once. So much of his usual tasks were beginning to be more difficult with each passing day. He could feel the effects of his age more pronounced each time he finished one thing and moved on to another. Even walking up and down the stairs was becoming a great challenge. He also felt himself not caring anymore, about what needed to be picked up, or reapplied.
He even started to not care for the idea of bringing Bruce his breakfast in the morning. Or even asking him if he needed anything at all.
Alfred disliked the idea that it was because of his age, and placed it more along the lines that he was just tired and needed a well deserved break. But how could he tell Bruce that? He had never taken one before, nor had he the inkling that he felt he needed to. It would mean that there was something wrong, and the last thing he wanted in the world was to give his ward one more thing to worry over. So he tossed the thought -and any physical pain he felt- aside and told himself he can live with it.
The old man did his best in straightening all the wrinkles out of the sheets and fluffed one or two pillows, for no other reason than to give himself the feeling of accomplishing something there. Before he moved away from the bed he had pushed in the nightstand's drawer in. Neither bothering to look what was inside of it nor wondering why it was slightly open in the first place.
He moved on to the other side of the room and slowly began to migrate his way towards the front door again. There was a flat screen TV hooked up directly against the wall facing the bed. It had been put there for Bruce to be able to watch the news in his room if there was any sudden breaking story that needed his immediate attention. Alfred wiped across its screen and along its sides for any dust particles that had settled themselves on it.
Upon finishing that he moved to the bookcase next to it, dusting and straightening lightly there as well. He had almost finished with his task when he heard something clunk to the floor. He was about to look down at what it was when he jumped at the sound of the TV coming to life. He had gripped one hand to his chest and gasped. On the screen seemed to be a mirror image of the room he was in now, but only lopsided. The butler followed a black chord that was coming out from behind the flatscreen and followed its gaze to the floor. He picked up what appeared to be a video camera. As he did so, he could see from the corner of his eye the world on the television was righting itself rather wobbly. When he turned the front end to face him, he saw his haggard looking face blazed across the screen staring back at him.
He figured it was some new camera Bruce had installed to keep watch over his room when he was away. But, as to why he'd buy this one and not just ask Alfred to hook up another hidden security one back in instead confused him. Especially when the young billionaire had asked at one point to have any and all recording devices be taken out of his room to begin with. He new Bruce had his reasons for this, and decided to leave it well enough alone.
When it seemed to Alfred that Bruce had the camera off and it only turned back on because of the fall, he attempted to shut it off and put it back where he found it.
Laying heavily on the 'attempt to' part.
He turned the camera around in his hands, mumbling to himself about why people can't just flat out have a button the says 'off' on today's new technology. He couldn't figure out how to shut it down. The only thing he knew for certain, was that the red button usually meant record, so he knew to stay away from that one. When nothing seemed to give him the slightest hint that this button was the one, he started to push any and all of them.
The first one brought up the time, and the second one seemed to stop the recording and play what was already on it. He looked at the TV screen again and saw an empty Wayne bedroom. He pushed another button, which caused the whole scene to fast-forward. Mumbling a curse, he looked from the device to the screen seeing no difference. At one point it appeared that a rather fast moving Wayne had entered to sit on the edge of his bed briefly with his head in his hands, to moments later scuttling off to the bathroom. The old butler felt a pang of sadness overtake him at seeing that temporary bit of depression for which he had not been present to help comfort. He now more than ever wanted the damn thing off.
Seconds went by as he pushed a few more buttons, until he became startled at a sound that suddenly shot from the TV and into the room. He snapped his head up at what sounded like someone screaming...and...
Really wished he hadn't looked.
He blinked. He blinked again. And again. His mouth dropped open as he felt his heart stop and fall out onto the floor. He swallowed hard as he stared at one of the most graphic sex scenes he had never imagined. The bed filled the entire screen as the sounds coming from the speakers was loud, desperate, and so full of lust it would've given Venus an orgasm. The man was thrusting hard and deep into the woman underneath him, who let out a responding moan of pleasure each and every time. Her legs were raised high into the air and held wide apart by the man. She dug her nails all along his back, laughing. They were going at it like starving wild animals.
When he realized that the one on top was a certain billionaire he immediately felt his face heat up and looked away, trying now everything short of smashing the camera to the ground just to turn the damn thing off. He had no right to see something so private as this in Bruce's life. He couldn't stop the thought of now figuring out what the true meaning of the camera being there.
But before he could get to trying out anymore controls, he raised his eyes briefly to the screen when he heard that laugh again and couldn't quite place why it sounded so familiar...
Until he caught sight of a flash of green which caused him to freeze in horror at the so-called 'woman' in the scene.
Not thinking about his actions anymore, the poor old butler moved gaping mouthed over until he was directly in front of the screen. He took a step forward.
"Oh God no, it can't be..." he whispered to the Bruce on the screen. "Please, let it be a trollop with snot-colored hair. Not, not..." He gripped the device tightly in his hands.
Alfred tried so hard to pretend that he wasn't seeing the young remaining Wayne plunge himself completely into the body of that white painted faced devil, that potent evil entity that caused so much destruction.
He tried so desperately hard to force himself in believing that Bruce wasn't rodgering a man.
He tried and tried, but the evidence was blazingly clear and refused to be ignored; Bruce was fucking the Joker.
And in the family Manor!!
When Alfred felt his insides twist in an awful way, letting him know in advance that he was going to hurl, he looked back down with renewed energy and through blurred vision he set to work to turn that disgusting sight off. Never once thinking all he had to do was either turn off the TV, or pull the chord out from the back of the flatscreen. Then at least it would be on the camera and not obnoxiously in his face.
He pushed another button which seemed to shut off the noise, and when he looked excitedly at the screen, he let out a cry when he saw that he had ended up rewinding it. He pushed two more buttons (wondering just how many knobs this stupid thing had, and how useless it appeared most of them were) thinking to himself how much he hates new technology when the scene slowed down from having the room become farther away and Bruce moving from an extreme close up to moving backwards, to suddenly moving at normal speed Bruce moving up close to the view screen then zooming its focus solely on the bed. Alfred could hear another voice in the background, and was soon greeted with the sight of something that literally made him do a double-take.
The Joker had walked into the shot dressed from head-to-toe in the most scantily clad school girl uniform the elderly butler had ever seen. They were speaking to each other, but Alfred heard none of it as all he noticed was that cursed smile, that maddening laugh, but even more distracting was Bruce's reaction. Good Lord, he actually seems to be enjoying what he sees. Alfred watched shaken and helpless as he saw Bruce roughly push the clown onto the bed and for lack of a better description ripped what little clothes were on the Joker to begin with. The Joker for his part laughed and returned the favor, clawing and even biting at the young Wayne's clothes with his teeth, growling.
Bruce reached a hand out and over to the nightstand drawer and retrieved a tube of something which seemed to both please and disappoint the Joker. Alfred's face fell as he turned around and looked at the same drawer from the screen. He didn't even want to know what was in there, but the back of his mind had a pretty good idea.
He turned back when he heard a hiss of breath soon followed by a moan, and saw to his utter shock that Bruce had shoved one finger in, soon followed by another...
Alfred gagged and had to cover his mouth. He took a few steps back and away from the sight before him as he saw the young playboy flip the madman onto his stomach like it was nothing and ram himself hard into the clown's arse. He squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the TV scream with pain and ecstasy mixed together. The poor old butler dropped the camera to the floor and jogged into the bathroom to finally relieve himself in the toilet. He sat there kneeling in front of it with no thoughts at all, except for how much he wished he couldn't hear it anymore. He turned around and reached for the door, slamming it shut. He rested his forehead on the seat, and after realizing he could still hear it and letting the images burn into his memory, the old man broke down and cried.
He fisted both hands and slowly shook his head not wanting to believe what he just witnessed.
Eventually, when he felt a bit of his strength returning, he flushed the toilet, pulled himself up to the sink and washed his mouth. He then straightened himself out in a dignified way and began to meticulously re-clean the bathroom in a mechanical way.
When he had finished it twice, he exited the room only to be greeted with a blank screen and silence. He didn't know how long he was in there, but for however long that was, the video had run its course and most likely rewound itself. He never did figure out how to turn it off.
His gaze eventually fell absent-mindedly to the bed with its now salmon colored sheets. Well, now he at least knew he wasn't crazy and the sheets really had been changed.
Alfred soon walked over to the little innocent looking camera on the floor and placed it approximately back where he found it. Then, with an unreadable face he turned on his heel and mumbled out loud--
"I think now is the time for that well deserved vacation. I certainly am going to bloody well need it now more than ever."
*****
His leg wouldn't stop bouncing. Lucius was saying something of great importance that needed to be discussed, but he wasn't listening. He couldn't listen. His mind was back at home, worried sick of what he might have done. Could he possibly have been that careless? Would he really have done such a thing? His stomach twisted and flipped as his mind began to form various scenarios of horrendous possibilities. Repercussions that sent his moral being spiraling down an endless black fall. He started to bite his fingernails, causing a few of them to bleed. If he didn't have ulcers before, he sure as hell was getting them now. That question, that god-awful question he didn't want to think about, but was now plaguing his soul and slowly tearing at his sanity. Panic rose in him as Bruce ran that question through his head for the hundredth time that day;
Did I remember to put the camera away??