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Dirty Little Secret	By : SelinaKyle Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 3478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Dirty Little Secret
- 1
A hard throbbing soreness attacked the side of his head. The cowled facade moved carefully and tensed his eyes in a deep concentration so as to avert more pain. He was struggling between remembering what happened before the black out and where he was now. When he gained some focus he scanned his surroundings. A sense of bewilderment overcame him.

This certainly was not……where was he?

“Ugh,” Batman grunted to let more aches subside and wear off. He inhaled deeply and leaned back, lost in a trance of confusion and thought. The smells, the place was….? The sudden rush triggered the first of many alerts that quickly put the Dark Knight on the defense despite his state. The memories started pouring back into his brain. The haze in front of him was still making it difficult to deduce where he was.

Black. A complete abyss of nothingness, a rabbit hole that subdued him. It was getting harder to think. It hurt his head. In attempting to put a hand to his temple to massage away the blasted migraine, he soon found that he was being tugged back.

Both of them in fact.

A sudden shift in perception obliterated any remnants of soreness but also posed new questions and concerns.

He tilted his head again to investigate the alien environment that prevented him from moving. He was tied at the wrists and the fact that he was bare at the chest with his cowl still intact added more drive to his quest at finding out the meaning of all this! Even the world’s greatest detective did not learn that he was tied at the ankles as well until he shifted his feet. Or at least he tried too. His tension rose. What kind of sick mind would-?

Joker.

The docks.

A blow to the head.

Probably Harley.

He writhed and struggled to free himself from the rope tightly wrapped around his joints. He was also apparently lying on some sort of wide bench or table with a sheet that covered his lower half. His utility belt and attire were cast away at the side, far from his reach. Batman began to scrape the rope on the edge to his side, laboriously trying to break free from his binds only to be greeted by a voice whose high timbres he had associated with chaos that he had endured and battled since that night outside of the theatre.

“Good evening sweetheart,” the voice teased. Its echoes shook the corridors of Batman’s mind. Batman ignored the greeting and pursued his administration but to no avail.

“Trying to leave me already? I’m hurt.” Ruby lips parted when a warm wet tongue ran seductively on the top. While concentrating on scraping the wretched constraint, Batman raised his head as far as he could to locate the shrill voice, coming from a corner adjacent to him. The Dark Knight sneered at the mock.

“Why didn’t you just go all the way?” A deep resonating growl shot back, not letting limited movement prevent him from intimidation. A pair of crimson lips stretched into a suggestive smile and smacked. “Oh I didn’t think it would be fun if I did, and besides, it would take away from the mystery and I know you’re kinky about that.” Joker purred silkily. Seeing the man he had combated with and on rooftops delighted him to no end. By this time Batman had stopped grinding the rope and channeled his attention to pulling despite limited success. “Where’s Harley!” the Dark Knight protested not really giving a rat’s ass where the nuisance of a jester was, instead praying to the powers that be that it would stall the madman, even for just a little bit.

“I sent her on a scavenger hunt,” The homicidal maniac answered quickly, motioning out of the shadows and towards the tied up detective. “I told the little bubblehead I’d take her to the zoo if she would do an itsy bitsy favor for me.” He smiled with close lips, giving him a sinister profile. Batman sneered. Great. Just great. “Yep, some Rembrandts, a rhinoceros beetle, and a disco ball, looks like it’s just gonna be you and me all alone for quite a while now.” The clown giggled at his bondaged Bat who looked like a he was involved in a circus freak show that dabbled with S/M. When Batman finally got a full glimpse of the Joker, a sick feeling began to swell and it wasn’t so much as his devilish grin, it was what he was donning that made his insides twist. The look on Batman’s face assured the Clown Prince that the tied up man had something on his mind that he could not bring himself to ask.

“Hmmm?” the psychopath mused and glanced down at the knee length red satin robe which was worn loosely around his neck and chest invitingly. “You don’t like?” He asked as he stretched his arms in a perverse modeling guise before taking a few steps towards the captured crusader. “You should have seen what Harley got me.” Batman disgruntled with the sight spat at the green haired madman, dead set on keeping him away.

“Oh, dear, Harley just scrubbed that,” Joker cited as he looked at the wet spot on the floor and placed a thin white hand on his hallowed cheek, the gesture reeking of mock concern. “….that simply will not do, Batman. Didn’t you know there is more than one way to swap spit?” Batman snarled at the comment and shook the bind violently. His full strength fully restored to him by this time. He loosened the rope with one strong jerk but failed to completely break it. “What’s a matter Batman, clown got your tongue?” The Harlequin of Hate cooed as he slithered closer, growing even more menacing by the moment. The strength and size of Batman was nothing compared to his smaller more fragile frame. With his valuables completely out of his reach, Batman was growing more and more fraught.

“You know, if you stop struggling like that, I might be able to do something about those pesky cables…”Joker gesticulated with a waving finger. He was barely hovering over the Dark Knight when he piped up again.

“Just see what happens if you get any closer, clown!” His voice was latent with an animalistic vibe that graced the Joker’s lust for provocation. He had the Big Bad Bat wrapped around his thin finger and there was nothing he could do!

This was getting good.

His compulsion to rattle his Bat sent electrical convulsions around his body and without hesitation decided to push the envelope even further. He stood a few inches away from the Dark Knight, resting his palms on the edge of the table, breaching the Bat’s tolerance. “How’s your little birdy?” The clown’s tone had changed into a deep, throaty accent. A sudden transformation from the teasing voice a few moments earlier.

Damn you.

Batman gave him the cold shoulder. “My, aren’t we feisty?” Joker’s eyes lit up. The silence would be sustained for only so long. “With you, it’s second nature”. Batman spat back. He stopped resisting his confined movement and relied on intimidation as a substitute but not final alternative.

“But I haven’t done anything yet, Batsy.” The thin pasty faced man leaned in, inches from Batman’s face. “Not yet.” A low chuckle vibrated in his throat. The boiling tension rose exponentially within his captive. “So, tell me, how is Robin?” Bastard just had to strike a chord.

Jason. Even Tim and Dick had the unfortunate chance of crossing paths with the murderous clown. But Batman knew all to well which one Joker was after.

Batman let the legacy of his second ward bloat within him. It slowly ate him alive. He couldn’t get away from this one, no matter how hard he tried.

“You don’t remember!” Batman barked. The words were difficult to execute despite being prompt. The exchange was testing his sanity. A devious smile formed on ruby lips. “Mmmmm, remember what I said about past tense? He was making you all jittery every time you and I had a date. You should be glad I got rid of the little spore…”

Filthy rotten sonofa-!

“He was my son!” Batman snarled. Full on rage boiled over. “So they put me at the funny farm and they let you go Scot free with child endangerment, how droll.” Joker pouted. Batman’s eyes tensed while his adversary’s excitement bubbled. It was not enough to quench the homicidal maniac.

“I see you’ve made a fine specimen of the big one. He’s such a fine lad, that taut young body and the moon outlining his chiseled build and ass, I bet you did more than help him with his homework.” No matter how many times the psychopath pressed that matter into his face; the very suggestion burned at his mind. No one could shake the sacred relationship he held with Robin. All three of them.

“Why you-!” like a mad dog, Batman shook his restraints, not at all like he was only moments earlier. “Temper, temper,” Joker cooed. Batman could smell the stench of sarcasm through the words, “….we mustn’t let the past tie us down.” The clown licked his lips and traced his long fingertips from the headboard to just over the muscle bound form lying in front of him. Curiosity claimed the Joker as a wandering hand hovered over the firm flat stomach. Batman observed the change Joker’s emerald eyes. He wasn’t sure what to make of the transformation. Flimsy white digits ran up and down in a rhythmic pattern on Batman’s body. This was a whole new venue for the both of them. Batman dismissed it as a plot to get to him despite the tingles it created. Even the Joker had to admit that he was surprised at not hearing so much as a peep from the detective. He studied the form he was touching in a careful, almost tender manner.

Batman himself was growing impatient from the lack of communication despite his distaste of anything coming out of the Joker’s mouth. The fool was reeling. Throughout the years and during their encounters, the Clown Prince studied the form of the man who pinned him down and slammed him against walls. No matter how many times he was within physical propinquity, he never had a chance to explore the build under the Kevlar and rubber. He never got to do what he desired.

Until now.

As he thought, Joker’s palms went from massaging the ripped stomach to the sides. He felt an odd stir and took note of a perfect ridge on the skin that covered the ribcage. It was neat with three scars. Joker’s emerald eyes met with the slit less orbs.

“Ooooh, what’s this, playing rough with the pretty kitty?” Batman let out a non-commental growl, not letting a small affair with Selina, Catwoman, interfere with his current state.

The Ace of Knaves took the silent glance as a permit to continue. His mind was brewing the next concoction of mischief. A devious smirk challenged the Dark Knight who could not escape the gentle strokes. Joker pressed in closer, adding to his own growing satisfaction of having the Bat whose physique evoked the build of a Roman god within reach rather than creating further anxiety for him. The jester turned his attention from the pulsating sensations within him back to the Batman who pathetically tried to ignore the touch. Joker moaned softly, soaking up the contact that he thought he would never reach beyond his wildest dreams! His eyes settled on a bare defined arm stretching out towards him. Its bulging measurements were tempting and who was the Joker to resist and not investigate?

Upon closing the gap, Batman studied his enemy’s features. The frail white chest attached to the graceful neck lassoed his mind. It teased and baffled him to think that it belonged to someone who battled wits with him. It could also explain why he was so terrible at hand to hand combat often resulting with bruises and cuts. How he healed so fast added to his fascination with this mystery. He didn’t even feel the white hand thumb over a scar on his deltoid, an old wound that had special significance to this situation. Batman’s breathing pattern escalated to a faster pace. He squirmed at the memory over the actual touch.

“Hmm,” a low seductive groan was let out of the Joker, gaining satisfaction of shaking the bound Bat out of his mental shackles. Blood rushed throughout the lithe body, hitting him like a tidal wave. But he was not finished. He pressed Batman about the scar on his arm.

“That was you.” Hearing that voice after awhile tickled the clown’s senses. “Ohhh,” He marveled at the cut. He looked at it as a signature, a mark of possession. “Years ago” Batman choked on the words, trying desperately to switch the Joker’s interest elsewhere. Instead he got something that would forever challenge the perceptions of the most deadly of his enemies on whole new level. Joker pressed his lips onto the gash, snapping Batman’s eyes open at full attention. It was hard to pin this as a ploy considering the pattern in which they were delivered. Passionate. Delicious. Joker pulled up a chair and sat on it sideways, crossing his legs.

Joker pulled out a small kitchen knife out of his pocket and cut the rope wrapped tightly around the wrist of the detective. He also took a quick moment to loosen the rope at the ankles without completely destroying the restraint. He didn’t want his Bat straying. He stretched out the forearm and studied it meticulously. It was burly and large compared to the waifish ones he possessed. He uncurled the fingers that were tensed at his icy stroke, but Batman dared not to struggle against the clown’s wishes. An incoherent river of thoughts swirled in his mind and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He let out a rough sigh when he felt Joker’s lips brush against his wrists. Like a hungry lion devouring his prey, Joker attacked the skin with his kisses. Batman shifted from his position, trying not to disturb the Clown Prince who turned his acidic eyes towards the Bat. Joker stopped momentarily. His eyes bespoke a dead set fascination as he kicked the metal chair out of the way ignoring the loud clanging noise it created. Joker propped himself up at the edge of the bench and hoisted himself up further to meet the Batman who used his free arm to press against the snow skinned man. Joker took the arm and resumed running gentle kisses on it.

“What does the weed always say?” Joker sighed as he felt the Dark Knight’s hand wrap around his neck. No matter how easy it would seem, Batman could not bring himself to crush it. One squeeze and it would all end: The murders, the crimes. Batman/Bruce battled himself internally, not really sure himself if he could go through with it even with feeling the skin on the petite neck. It was soft, delicate skin. Not something you would expect a murderer’s to feel. It was beginning to take a toll on Batman.

“You’re sick,” was all he could muster. It was very tricky for his large masculine hand to not travel from the collar and sneak under the fabric. “Then make me feel better,” Joker taunted as he pressed himself lower and added pressure to Batman’s hips. The next moments were testing his patience incalculably. He never regarded the Joker as a physical creature. He couldn’t bring himself to think that even when Barbara was injured. Maybe he didn’t want too. He was someone who tested the very edges of a person’s sanity. He almost broke Jim. Twice. Batman tried frantically to keep the clown at bay but his hands created a delectable cadence that consumed him. Joker let a low rumble voice escape his throat before looking down at his Bat with a sensuous poise.

Then without warning, Joker rose from his position and stretched himself out to meet the Bat’s gaze. His face only a breath away from him. He noted a look in the Batman’s eyes that would not be mistaken for anything else. Bruce was melting, the cowl gave him some backbone but even that could only do so much. The green-haired mad man leaned in closer, letting a faint scent seep into Batman’s senses. Gardenia. He couldn’t underestimate the Joker this time. Vesper and Silver wore a perfume with the scent. It had to be goddamn gardenia.

“I want you”, the clown mused, nuzzling the chin with his hooked nose. “Get away!” Batman mumbled under his breath. The Bat was dying and Bruce was holding onto dear life. “Don’t make it so hard on yourself, you know you want too.” Joker whispered in his ear. A sinful smile choked out the last few breathes out of the Bat that grasped at Bruce Wayne’s psyche. “You know you can’t resist…” “Shut up!” Batman/Bruce barked. Joker knew that words would not be enough if he wanted the Dark Knight to come out and play. He brushed his lips against his ear which was exposed after he pulled the Kevlar while his captive rested for just the occasion. His tongue tickled the lobe like a brazen whore. “Come out and dance with me Batman.” With that, the Joker broke the chain on Bruce’s other wrist and the one that held back his basic human instinct. A low moan fled crimson lips as Joker brushed kisses on Batman’s chin. It was a final nail to the coffin as Bruce Wayne’s playboy inhibitions consumed him when he felt Joker’s hungry mouth greet and devour his. An irresistible ardor overwhelmed the two arch foes.

I want to kiss you in Paris

I want to hold your hand in Rome

I want to run naked in the rainstorm

Make love in a train cross country

You put this in me

So now what, so now what?

As if seemingly on their own, his warm arms reached up and wrapped themselves behind Joker’s back, bringing him closer. Joker lowered himself letting his light weight cover Bruce. Long arms snaked their way from under him and enclosed themselves on the cowled face, cradling it. They let out soft moans as they furthered the passion between them. Joker’s petite mouth did not deter Bruce who found the sensations all to appealing to struggle against.

Wanting, needing, waiting

For you to justify my love

Hoping, praying

For you to justify my love

Joker took the extra time to be gentle, not letting the man beneath him slip away. He had come too far for it to end so quickly. A warm tongue made its way into Bruce’s mouth, greeting his. Joker was anything but a gorgeous woman whom he usually consorted with, but his kiss was something that no female he wooed would ever compare too. Bruce closed his eyes and envisioned the daughter of the Demon in his embrace to block out any insecurity

What are you gonna do?

What are you gonna do?

Talk to me-Tell me your dreams

Am I in them?

Tell me your fears

Are you scared?

Tell me your stories

I’m not afraid of who you are

Joker could feel the Bat thinking. He was beginning to lose zeal in their interaction. He seemed less involved, less interested. At a loss. Joker took the initiative and ran a few more kisses before pulling back and biting Batman’s lower lip along with him. As he did, Joker pressed slow teasing insinuations on his hips against Batman’s, tempting him at a forbidden dance.

When he let go, Batman let out a rough sigh. A combination of pain and defeat overpowered him. As Joker let go, Batman gazed up at his mortal enemy. He noted the emotion the bled from those beautiful shades of green. They were something that he would never forget. Joker’s eyes spoke of anger, lust, and challenge, the latter probably from the fact that Bruce still held him back, not fully letting him go all the way. Joker got him once tonight. He wasn’t about to let him get away this time. The daring gaze in the Joker’s eyes had aroused the Bat once more, arising to the defiance. He was used to being the playboy but not the toy for another boy. With that thought, Batman brushed a curl off Joker’s face and pulled him back towards him, engaging the Prince in a loving lip lock again. Joker was staggering internally. His dominance was pulled under the rug by a man he had battled on a multitude of occasions. Not that he was complaining.

Poor is the man

Whose pleasures depend

On the permission of another

Love me, that’s right, love me

The Clown Prince of Crime did not even notice that his detective was rising up, pushing him into a sitting position, thus finally snapping the restraints at his ankles. His hot breath in his mouth twisted his attention span. Joker’s thin hands held the Dark Knight’s head close, not wanting to let go of that warmth. Batman’s hands in the mean time ran hungrily up and down the red satin on his back. The sudden wave of intimacy had overwhelmed the Joker so much that he pulled away to catch his breath, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. The playboy within the Bat took advantage of the situation and pressed warm, hungry kisses on the cheek and neck. Joker welcomed the change and let out low pleasurable sighs at the exchange, letting his beloved Bat do what he wanted.

Wanting, needing, waiting

For you to justify my love

I’m open and ready

For you to justify my love

As if that was not enough, Batman began to pin the clown down assuming an ancient male response. As he did so, the sheet that covered his legs exposed bare flesh until finally tipping over, letting Batman do what he hungered for. He wasn’t thinking about his reputation as Gotham’s most eligible bachelor, it didn’t cross his mind about the possible tarnishing of his name at Wayne Enterprises. Caution was thrown to the wind when Batman pressed his muscle bound build onto Joker’s who accepted the reversed role by spreading his thighs and letting the detective undo his robe and meet with his white trembling body.

“Ooooohhhhh”, Joker let out a feeling of euphoria while his ex enemy excitedly returned the favor of which he so long was denied. Batman’s animalistic grunts were music to his ears. Batman meanwhile focused his attention on placing rabid kisses on the waifish neck that had seduced him moments earlier. Both Bat and Clown did not think about what was coming out of this trade. One was focused on his own satisfaction while the other was happy to receive. In the inner corridors of their minds, both could hear a loud banging noise off in the distance, a sort of thunder that acknowledged their union. Both of them heard it echo in the halls but neither of them stopped. They were both caught up in the moment that they did not discern the clang until…..

“Puddiiiiiiiiiiiiin!” A loud squeaky voice shook the walls of the hideaway. Harley Quinn made her way down the hall with a bag of goodies from her little errand. The red and black clad clown girl began searching the house looking for any sign of her beau.

“Mistah J, I didn’t know if you wanted a real disco ball or not so I borrowed Red’s key chain and those paintings were a real bitch to find! You know I had a real hard time finding those things! Can you believe I had to drive all the way to Metropolis!” Harley settled the items on the floor by her feet, in order to make her search easier. She searched each of the inner pathways of the Gothic architecture one by one. “Puddin………?”

Pamela Isley was brewing a concoction while glancing over her friend who looked like a zombie on her couch. It was strange even for Ivy who was used to her happy go lucky nature. “So what did you say happened, Harl?” The red haired beauty sat beside her best friend, drink at hand and ready for offering. “Red, it was unreal. Mistah J, he was…it was surreal…..” as Harley trailed off without an explanation, Poison Ivy noted the glassy look in the moll’s grey eyes. This simply would not do. If she had something important to tell her then dammit she will find out. With that, the jade skinned woman plucked a seed from a nearby plant and put it in the drink. She used this in substitute of what homo sapiens used as vodka. Once the seed dissolved, Ivy handed the drink to her friend. “Now, cupcake,” Ivy mused in a motherly fashion, she had to find out. “…tell me exactly what happened…”

Postscript: Hiya! I hope you liked it! I wrote this as an 'answer' to the myriad of JokerHarley fanfics If you are one of those sensitive/rabid shippers, I would love to hear your thoughts, and please....complete sentances and grammar are a must if you want me to take you seriously. If not, go bungee jump without a safetly cable.
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Dirty Little Secret