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Even Bats Fall	By : BlueBastard Category: DC Verse Movies > The Dark Knight Views: 6333 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own The Dark Knight or Batman Begins and I do not make a profit from writing this piece of fiction

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
A/N: Lol, you guys are insanely awesome. I'm crankin' out the updates cuz I'm actually trying to *finish* a fanfic for a change. Surprise surprise. I find that if I stop, my muse tends to drift to the next story. Let's hope that's not the case, shall we?
Oh, and did I ever mention reviews feed the ravenous muse? She really is somethin'.
Who woulda thunk that nurse was really the Joker? Hah.
More YouTube vids that are pretty kool:
Joker/Bruce - Monster by AidelimBatman And Joker - Animal I Have Become by Centperk
-o-o-o-
"Looking... for something...?" That familiar cackle.
"*Joker*." Batman growled, an uneasiness settling in his gut. How had he FOUND him? Why was he HERE?
And more importantly, how had he gotten a hold of that KEY?
Joker turned fully around, laughing outright as he pulled down the surgical mask that covered his painted face. He hooted, "I wondered if you, heh eheh, would *notice*."
Batman growled.
Joker spun in place, fingers daintily holding the hem of his nurse outfit, "You like the new threads? Comes handy in, er, fitting in. Though... I can't really say I approve of the new digs. Bo-ring. Not to mention too many needy people, sheesh. And the atmosphere needs some work. I bet um..." Joker looked pointedly out the door before a slow grin creased his face paint a little more, looking at the Bat through dangling locks, "*I* could liven the place up a little."
When all Batman did was glower at him, Joker lightened up from his murderous mood to give a glamorous wink, "I wore it today JUST for you."
At the stressed word, the clown had lifted his skirt just that much higher, flashing his bare upper thighs. Batman's eyes widened before he tore his gaze elsewhere, keeping the green haired menace in his peripherals. Joker brought scandalous to a whole different level. Not to mention, he did pull of the nurse uniform very well for a... uh... deranged psychopath.
Something Batman would *never* say aloud as long as he lived.
"Stop doing me favors." Batman's tone dipped low, brooking no room for argument.
Why couldn't the mad man just leave him the hell alone?
Though he was pleased to FINALLY get the Bat to use his scratched vocal chords, Joker pouted, prowling forward as he stated, "Well you're no fun, Batsy."
He started a little hop and skip, twirling the small keychain around his finger, closing the gap between them.
Seeing the crazed clown creep closer had the Dark Knight's hair on edge, and he quickly jerked to a standing position, though his movements were severely limited by the tug of handcuffs on his right wrist. He couldn't move much further than a step or two from the bed, pulling his chained wrist behind him, as though that would hide the fact that he was practically immobile.
Of course, heaving the whole bed across the room seemed a pretty good possibility. A smashed Joker couldn't really do anything to him. Then again, it being the Joker, he would *still* find a way to push his buttons, even as a puddle of skin and bones on the floor.
"Give me the key, Joker..." Batman rumbled, Kevlar glinting darkly in the white-washed room.
Joker held it out enticingly, cackling when he jerked it out of reach at the Bat's fast swipe. The painted jester grinned, "Mmmm no."
"Give it to me." The Dark Knight repeated gratingly, holding out an upturned palm.
"I cooouuuuld, but... I won't. Heh eheh heh heh." Joker thrilled at the whole predicament, even as the Bat gave a fiercer scowl. Imagine the clown's surprise after he had delivered an agonizingly slow death to Bat's supposed murderer, only to glance out the window and see an ambulance pulling up alongside the corpses. But ONE of the corpses had been breathing. The one that landed on the vehicle.
The one he was *very* glad to see alive before him.
He had to hold back his excitement at just blowing the whole damn hospital up and taking the Bat away. He may have been actually HURT after all. And Joker may like to dress the part, but he was no true nurse. Sure he could patch up a bloody wound, take out a bullet or two. But he wasn't a doc. At least, not THAT kind. He had to make sure his Bats was golden.
And how could he even doubt.
A thirty story drop would kill any normal man.
But since when did his Bats ever fall in THAT sort of crowd?
The fall barely shook the muscled vigilante, the Bat looking none the worse for wear, minus a few scrapes and bruises. A particular scratch on Batsy's lip had his eyes riveted, mind niggling in familiarity. But he let it pass for the desire to taste the blood on *his* Bat's lips. The dried red mocked him, taunting him, and he licked his own lips.
He just wanted a taste.
Surely he deserved it after all the weeks of inattention.
When the Joker stepped closer, too close, Batman snarled, forcing his body to be still. As much as he wanted to flee, as much as his blood rushed at the thought of the Joker touching him, he would show no weakness. Not in front of THIS man.
"Come any closer and I WILL beat you senseless." Batman uttered warningly, eyes burning. Free fist clenching, even as he yanked at the handcuffs, attempting to match the Joker's step for measured step. He wouldn't back down. No matter how the panic rattled in his sore ribcage.
"I thought, heh heh, you wanted THIS." Joker dangled the key just achingly out of reach, loving how that brown gaze melted the piece of metal at his fingertips. But the Bat knew better than to grab for it again.
He was fast.
But Joker was *faster*.
"I do." Batman turned his gaze to the clown, anger churning in those brown depths.
But the move Joker pulled had even Batman in a loop.
The silver key dangled, then disappeared promptly in that scarred mouth.
Inner Bruce and Batman together were speechless.
"Come and get it..." Joker grinned, enjoying the blinked look of surprise and utter disbelief in the Bat's eyes, before he snickered, "unless you're too, er, *scared* of course-"
The Batman raged at the word. He would show the Joker. Before Bruce could clamp down on his impulsiveness, Batman had hooked the Joker around the small of his back, dragging the fighting form of the clown bodily to him. The painted menace had just enough time to expel a breath of forced air at the yanked contact of uniformed clothe against hardened Kevlar, before a strong mouth claimed his, muscled tongue easily prying past his frozen, scarred lips. He was so taken aback at the sudden, and definitely unexpected, reaction, that it was no trouble at all for the Bats to fish the key from between Joker's lax tongue and tonsils.
Snagging the bitter rust of metal, trying his damnedest NOT to relish in the moist warmth of the Joker's surprisingly pliant mouth, Batman withdrew, victory coming with that bitter taste on his tongue. That and a lingering sense of... well, *Joker* wafting in his senses.
As Batman pulled back, he blinked within his cowl and found a slack jawed Joker, stupefied expression on the other's painted face.
Joker himself was utterly, completely, moronically flabbergasted. He teased. He taunted. He had even full on molested the Bats, his one true desire, that one night. But he never dreamed...
If all it took was a little game of persuasion, heh heh, well...
Joker was a being of instinct. He didn't question the how or the why. Didn't question his want, the ever-present NEED to have the Bat's attention. Didn't question the inexplicable actions of the other.
All he knew, all he cared about, was that he WANTED more.
He all but sprang on the unexpected Batman, with such force that the Dark Knight nearly toppled over onto the bed. But quick reflexes had the Bat grab the railing to steady himself, the frame taking the brunt of Joker's momentum as it rattled hard against the wall. What Batman should have been doing was holding the Joker at bay, the man's slender limbs intertwining with the Bat's.
Bruce had just enough time to register strong legs locked around his waist, lightly muscled arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers curling around the back of his head. Then the Joker's mouth was on his. *Devouring* his lips. Batman's muffled protest was swallowed and consumed by the ravenous scarred mouth, tongue darting in the unguarded opening of one Dark Knight. Alarm didn't even begin to cover the feeling coursing through Batman's nerves. As Bruce, it was an inevitability that the Joker could overpower him. But as the Bat, it was a whole different story.
But it was a feeling Joker thrived on.
Joker couldn't get close enough.
He arched against the armor, stretching himself like a cat even as he curled around the stronger man. He could feel the vigilante tense, then begin to struggle, futile in his one-armed attempts to pry the wiry form of the Joker from his Kevlar enshrouded body. The sound of the handcuffs rattling at the Bat's hearty tugs signaled the vigilante's determination. But Joker wasn't ready to let go. Would never be, had he a choice. He gripped the struggling Bat tighter, fingers clenching around that cowled head, pressing tight lips more firmly into his own. He rolled his hips sensually, pleased to get a startled gasp from the other, slithering his tongue quickly deeper into the warm cavern, almost forgetting his intentions until the pink muscle bumped into the stolen key.
Right. The, er, game plan.
With much effort, Joker forced himself to pull away, key tucked safely back in his own mouth. He clambered slowly back to his own two feet, body shivering at the missing warmth of the other. His only solace was the harsh breathing of the silent Bat a foot in front of him, dark eyes brimming with a tumble of unreadable emotions. The Bat was always hard to read, but Joker didn't mind. It's what kept everything so fresh. So... interesting.
Bruce was flitting through so many emotions -rage, uncertainty, something MORE- that he could hardly tell *what* was going through his head. His fist clenched, taking a step forward as he settled on the more familiar of them all, "This is NOT a game, Joker. I need that key."
"You know how to get it, Batsy." Joker's eyes danced with mirth. Wondering. Daring. Hoping.
"The cops will be here any minute." Batman growled lowly, face tilted down as shadows darkened his features. Refusing. Denying.
"Then *I*, heh, would suggest *you*...HURRY..." Joker remarked with a tilted smirk, his insides all fluttery with anticipation. What would his Bats do, with all the chips knocked down?
The air visibly constricted around that ebony caped form, the vigilante focusing all his energy on a single emotion. His most comforting one to his stubborn ego. The Bat obviously couldn't understand *why* he'd even WANT this. But Joker KNEW. Had known for a while. They were *meant* for each other. He had tried explaining before.
And it looked like another explanation of the obviousness would have to wait, seeing as how a Kevlar armor plated fist was gripping his uniform's collar insistently.
Batman couldn't think. *Wouldn't* think of just how eagerly he wanted to give in. To take the Joker and explore his mouth more fully. But this was wrong, on so many levels. The painted clown had practically had his *way* with him back at the restaurant. Back in the cell that dark night. And every moment before and in between. He was *tired* of being played. So instead of thinking, instead of calculating, instead of looking over the angles, Batman did the one thing he failed to do with *everyone* else EXCEPT the Joker. He just... reacted.
How his fist grabbed the Joker, bodily heaving the man easily with one hand, over his head as he twisted his torso to follow the motion through. How the Joker let out a hoot at the sudden move, obviously enjoying himself even though he was slammed *hard* on the flimsy mattress -bouncing once, twice, three times- at the sheer force of Batman's throw. Just like in the interrogation room, except cozier, since it was softer than the hard metal table. Joker's eyes lit up, remembering the same moment, as he glanced up at Batman expectantly, still laughing.
"Heh eheh heh, all the *familiar* places, right Batsy?" Joker cackled, eager for the attention he had been missing for what felt like DECADES.
But this just made Bruce angrier.
And Batman, in turn, growled, "Shut. Up."
How could the jester be irrevocably happy with *anything* the Dark Knight did, even if it was to beat him to a bloody pulp? It was maddening. It was wrong. So wrong. Then why did it send a spiked thrill to Batman's core? Why did HE feel like the one deprived?
Joker cackled. This was more fun than he had ever had in months. More so than his fling with the Billionaire, only in the fact that it was HIS Bats defeated the other memory. With a vengeance. And ooooh, did the caped crusader look angry. And hungry? Ravenously angry then. The Bat couldn't fool him, Joker KNEW the Bat missed this as much as he did.
And he laughed harder as the realization showed in those widened brown eyes, narrowing viciously as it struck a nerve in Batman's angry visage.
"Shut. Up!" Batman's snarl sent a wonderful shiver from head to toe, the masked man towering lethally on the side of the bed. Shackled, sure, but ever so imposing despite the fact.
Suddenly the Bat was straddling him, making the Joker pause for a moment. Waiting for the inevitable blow. The symphony of plated knuckles against bones and skin. But it never came.
Instead there was the glorious feeling of warm lips on Joker's scarred ones. Joker couldn't believe it. He was doing it again! The seriously repressed Bats was KISSING him again! Joker's gleeful giggles were slowly swallowed by that forceful mouth, tongue plowing into his welcoming one, battling for the key that writhed innocently between their tongues. The laughter stopped as Joker melted like putty under that muscled body, those strong hands pressing him down, knees straddled harshly on either side of Joker's thighs. Holding the jester in place, as if he WANTED to get out. Being beaten by the man felt good, but THIS, Joker was discovering, THIS was even *better*.
Batman growled as the painted menace nipped his lip. The Joker was enjoying this! Of course he was. But then, as Batman bit angrily back, his dark stirrings realized he must have been as well. The second growl rumbled from his chest. No. He was only doing this to get the key. Only playing the sick man's twisted game for his freedom. But the way the Joker keened and arched up into him, bulge rubbing achingly against Batman's thighs, had him suppress a moan himself. He froze solid, Bruce Wayne's meticulous mind picking over the new bits of evidence. But Batman clamped down on it. He was a wrathful vengeance. Pure action with no thought of consequences, as long as the results held true. He would GET that key. Even if this was the only way to get it.
Not the only way, inner Bruce muttered, recalling fists and knuckles in the darkest nights.
But Batman just redoubled his efforts. Bruce Wayne had left the Bat caged too long. And all that energy was coiled, brimming inside with a rumbling crackle of hidden thunder.
He was merciless in his onslaught of the Joker's mouth, tongues clashing and battling for dominance, for the victory of that key. And the painted jester was *game*. That slippery appendage twisted, rolled, tugged to the sides, keeping his chess piece away from the ruthless Knight. Growling, the Bat hooked his free arm around the small back of the clown, forcing the more slender man to arch fully up against him. His chained right had enough slack to grip the back of Joker's neck, increasing the intensity of the kiss tenfold. He could feel the wound on his lip split open once more, bright red coating it anew, fresh stinging clanging around his other senses. But he ignored it as he *finally* gripped the key and wrenched forcefully back, chest heaving for breath.
The Joker looked blissfully dazed, a hint of disbelief coloring his painted features. The red of his grin was smeared, and Batman did NOT want to think of the 'how', 'where' or 'why' at the moment. He had the key. All other musings could wait.
Ignoring the dazed man beneath him and the ominous stirrings within, Batman spit the key into his free palm, reaching over that heaving chest to his cuffs, pushing the key into the lock with a little more effort than it would normally take.
But he should've noted those darkening pits staring hard at him. The burning hunger growing. The senses returning full force. The Joker was not an opponent to overlook, even for a second.
Joker had sampled the copper hint of the forbidden darkness, the Bat's blood ringing on his taste-buds. Even now the fresh blood gleamed at him on those nicely swollen lips, tight with the Bat's ever-serious concentration on the task at hand. And red from the smear of his face paint.
Red...
Because the Bat had been *kissing* him.
"More." The Joker's snarl was feral. His hunger insatiable. He thought these lingering touches, mouth watering kisses, and small teasing would keep the madness at bay. But he had been separated too long, had thought he *lost* his Bats after the tower incident. And he just kept seeking more. More warmth. More strength. More of the BAT.
That pointed cowl jerked to him at the last moment. Too late.
Before Batman could turn the key in the lock, to free himself from the cuffed prison, Joker had pounced. With power in that lightly muscled form, Batman found himself winded, toppled onto his back, cuffs sliding along the railing to follow his position as he was forced on the other end of the bed. The tables turned, the Joker straddling *him* now. A surge of panic rattled his spine, Batman glaring.
"Joker-" He warned.
But the painted man was back at it, mouth leaving no room to speak as lips collided once more. The Joker had him by the plates of his pectoral armor, resolute fingers digging a hold as he yanked the vigilante upright to meet him halfway. The Bat could pretend, but the Joker would not. Could not. He wanted this, and he didn't care if he needed to use *force*. Batman would give it to him, or he would TAKE it.
Batman was frozen stiff at the audacity-
-there wasn't even a KEY in his-
Then he started to struggle. To fight back. Fight the overwhelming heat that threatened to drag him, cape and all, to the dark depths he could NOT allow himself to go. But it was laughingly easy for the painted menace to pin him down, cuffed as Batman was. And taken largely by surprise.
That maddening pink slip of a tongue was working his mouth hard, lapping at Batman's lip even as the Dark Knight gave a harsh hiss. The jester's strength was immeasurable, and it took everything Bruce had to tear away, plopping forcefully back on the thin mattress. His senses were reasonably jarred, his lips prickling with the loss of the moist warmth. But it only took him moments to realize the Joker's hands were madly scrambling to divest him of his utility belt, to get at places *below*."
"Joker, stop this!" Batman grated, the pooling heat making his own erection throb safely beneath the confines of his armor. If the Joker-
He couldn't.
Batman couldn't let him know.
Know how that painted mad man was *affecting* him.
He was the Dark Knight. A symbol for all that was good in the city. The dark vengeance that no normal citizen could shoulder. He was justice incarnate. He could not actually WANT to bed this lunatic. The Joker was the opposite of everything he stood for. The chaos against his order. The madness to his truth.
The last Kevlar plate to his protective cup! It was held in the Joker's hands, flung back over his shoulder with the careless grace of a man about to get his just desserts.
"Joker!" Batman's teeth were bared, grappling desperately with the man atop him. But it was useless, one arm cuffed, the other pinned easily, Joker proceeded to pull the titanium-dipped tri-weave fibers down to expose the beast of a cock he knew Batman sported.
The moment his raging hard on was exposed, Bruce's cheeks flushed darkly. He struggled like a man possessed, Batman attempting to buck the maniac off of him. The cuffs rattled with the strain, but the positioning had his trapped arm stretched too far to be any use. But Joker kept a death grip on the free arm, memorizing every inch and throbbing fold of the glorious shaft before him. There was even a gleaming drop of pre cum glinting on the bobbing tip.
Joker wet his lip, ignoring the trembling fury of the Dark Knight beneath him. Bats wanted to be free. But Joker had been craving this MORE. More than Batman's desire to be free.
His Bats almost died. Almost disappeared before then, but nearly DIED this time. He could've lost him forever.
And instead of following his senseless morals, saving that pathetic Reese, Bats had saved HIM. If there was any question before, it was completely abolished now. Bats NEEDED him. WANTED him around. And the Joker was more than willing to show his gratitude.
And take some of the spoils himself, of course.
"Want this." Joker rambled to himself, "Need this. Need it."
He curled forward to swipe the teasing drop from the straining tip, and it. Tasted. Glorious.
The mangled cry of the Joker's name made those blue eyes refocus on the furious Bat beneath him. Though those cheeks were flushed in more than anger. If he didn't have the throbbing evidence ready and straining before his very eyes, he would not have been certain at all of the Bat's, well, *interest* in this little endeavor.
"Someone's been hiding more than one. Little. SECRET." Joker was smirking, but this was no joke. If it were, the punchline would end in one of them being screwed. Both, if he had any say in it, actually.
"You're a sick man, Joker. YOU. Need. HELP." Batman rumbled in the deep voice of his that would rattle the souls of weaker men, the rasp able to grate more than simple cheese. It could cut through reinforced steel itself.
Joker leaned forward, anything but fear glimmering in his eyes as he licked his lips, whispering in his own nasally tone, "Well, from, heh heh, one sick man to another, let ME help YOU."
Without any warning, without further enticement, Joker had lifted his hips and rammed his unprepared entrance down onto the Bat's dripping cock to the hilt. Their screams were in unison. Both a mixture of pained pleasure. Batman choked, never having felt such an intense velvet heat that encased him now. And this was the JOKER. The infuriating villain that constantly sought his attention. Constantly nipped at his heels. Was constantly on his mind one way or another.
And that painted man was currently on top of him, face twisted in pure bliss and agony, fully sheathed in the Bat's angrily pulsing cock. Joker was in heaven. Either that or an extremely pleasurable part of Hell. Heck, maybe both. But it didn't matter. He had waited so long... and the feeling was simply, indescribable.
Batman's thighs trembled with the restraint, body wanting to thrust up into that maniac's body until the Joker screamed with completion. To have that mouth busy doing something other than constantly cackling all the time. But he held back. He could NOT give in. He could not allow the Joker to just do what he pleased and expect to get away with it.
He could not...
Then it looked like the clown was ready to move again. And Batman feared it would be his undoing. He pulled, strained at his chained arm and pinned arm, but nothing gave. Neither the cuffs nor Joker's unbreakable grip. When physical efforts failed, he quickly became vocal in his protests.
"Joker," Batman choked, a swirl of sensations threatening to drown him, "don't you DARE-"
"NO!" Joker's bark was rabid, eyes snapping open to lock vivid blue eyes with his captive audience below, "*You* don't get to tell me what to do. You LEFT me." Batman winced at the raw hurt that radiated from that voice, forcing his gaze to remain on those accusing eyes. The dark pits softened after that admittance, the Joker's tone still quivering as he repeated with a wet swipe of his tongue, like a man with an addiction, "I need this. Need it. Won't let you take it away, Batsy. WON'T. Not *this* time."
He lifted himself quickly before impaling himself once more on the gloriously full feeling of his Bat's cock, grunting.
It tore a guttural groan from the mostly armored Batman beneath him, those masked eyes sliding shut in denial.
But Joker wasn't having that.
Wouldn't give his Bats the luxury of picturing someone -anyone else- doing this to him.
"Atatata ta, no. Hm, NO. Look at me Bats. LOOK. AT. ME." Joker demanded harshly, pumping his body up and down forcefully at each enunciated word, spittle flying from his crazed mouth.
"Ngh..." Bat shook his head slowly, feeling drugged. He couldn't. Wouldn't.
"I could make it quick." Honeyed words fell from scarred lips, the wet slurp of a small lick on painted lips, "Wouldn't want your, ah, COP friends to come in and find you like this, would we?"
He could see the frown mar that oh-so-serious face, and Joker leaned closer, "Wouldn't wanna ruin what's left of your, er, re-pu-TA-TION, would we? Heh eheh, heh."
Feeling like his eye lids were made of concrete, Batman cracked them open, seeing the instant delight on the clown's face at the Bat willingly revealing his churning brown orbs.
"Better." Joker sighed, "And as you know, I'm a man of my *word*."
Without further warning, Joker set off at a furious pace as he started ramming the Bat's rod into his welcoming heat.
Joker stared openly at the caped crusader below him, Kevlar gleaming as hard as those eyes that glared up at him. The attention. The fury. All honed at HIM. It was delicious. Especially those sounds that came out. Those primal groans and grunts the Joker inspired with every roll of his nurse clad hips. He hadn't worn any underwear. And while this certainly had not been on the agenda, it was a welcome foresight. No waiting. Just put a coin in the wound up Bat machine and. Just. GO.
Batman gripped the sheets and his cape beneath him, body trembling from the onslaught that sparked a fire at every nerve ending. The nurse outfit hitched at every thrust the Joker did, and soon the clown's own throbbing shaft was exposed, the rubbing of fabric against the sensitive anatomy tearing mewls of pleasure from the deranged psychopath above him. But Batman had to give it to the man, the Joker definitely knew how to ride cock.
Bruce Wayne was a puddle of goo, wanting so much to just ram his hips upwards, lost in the sensations. But Batman held back. The Joker may have had a 'date' with the billionaire playboy, but that did not sit well in Batman's book. The man was a murderer. A criminal mastermind.
But fuck did he fit gorgeously well on his straining endowment.
True to his word, Joker was rapid in his movements, quick to draw them closer to the end.
Joker wanted this. Wanted it. So bad.
Then Joker managed to make Batsy hit that SPOT and the jester's body jerked so nicely, an electric flare of pleasure jetting through him. He sought for it again, wanting friction against the bundle of nerves in his ass, the sensation better than any before. The Bats made him feel so... FULL. Draining away the cold emptiness inside. Filling him with his heated manhood, chasing away the cold. The loneliness. He attempted to find it again, bucking desperately, but it eluded him.
With a wordless snarl, he released the Bat's free arm, in favor of pumping himself in time with his frantic movements, seeking out that pleasurable angle once more.
So caught up in watching the inexplicably HOT play of emotions on that painted face, Batman almost didn't realize his slight freedom of movement. Almost.
He quickly jerked his arm to his trapped right, while the Joker was suitably distracted. He twisted the key and with a click, the cuffs fell free. That slight sound had the Joker's eyes snap open, almost too lost in the sensations to notice. Panic flared in that blue gaze. He was close. So close!
A growl and a swirl of the dark cape, and Batman was on top once more, slamming the Joker on his back, though they were still connected where it counted. He started to pull out, causing a frantic whimpering from the painted menace below him. Joker grappled hand to hand with him, legs attempting to tighten around the retreating form.
"No Bats-" He started to cry out.
Only to have his mouth stretched open in a wordless cry as the vigilante promptly slammed back into him, finding that perfect angle in the first try. Sparks flew before his eyes, the sensation pulsing deeply at the Joker's core. His toes curled, his heart beat, and he could barely breath. Barely move.
"Is *this* what you want, Joker?" Batman's growl sent a spike of heat to stir directly to his loins, "For me to FUCK you to the ground?"
The man was primal. Out of control. It fit so well on that gleaming ebony form. So perfect on those hardened features. That alone nearly made Joker cum. He was free, the Bats was FREE, and instead of running off, he was plowing into Joker's tight entrance without mercy. Without regard for the jester's comfort, hiking his legs wide, as he growled furiously. Pounding into him with all he was worth. Just how Joker LIKED it.
Joker managed to nod wordlessly.
Yes. YES.
A thousand times yes.
Batman could feel the heat coiling tighter. Tighter. His end was coming, and so was the Joker's. While his mind screamed outright that this was WRONG, his body no longer listened. This man played with him. Taunted him. Teased him. But the Bat inside was just as twisted. Wanted this. Wanted to see this carnal act through to its completion. He was Batman. And he could dish out just as savagely as he could take. The loose cuffs rattled with each brutal thrust. The bed frame shook against the wall in a testament to the Bat's fury.
Joker couldn't take much more. He took himself in his desperate hand, feeling like he would fall apart if he didn't reach the pinnacle soon.
But with a growl, Batman swatted the hand away, releasing one of the Joker's trembling thighs to do so.
"Bats-" Joker keened desperately. Needy. The tone plucking easily at the coursing heat running through Batman's veins. The heat that took control of his mind and body.
The heat inspired by the Joker begging beneath him.
With a guttural grunt, Batman took the Joker in his own gloved hand, delivering a friction only the vigilante could, to Joker's weeping cock.
Joker cried out at that, never knowing just how GOOD his Bats could be with his hands. Useful for more things than dealing harsh blows, then. And he knew just how much restraint that powerful hand was showing, pumping his tender shaft just *right*.
And his cock was hitting perfectly in Joker's writhing core, if the steadily increasing mantra of, "Bats, Bats, *Bats*!" was any indication.
They were close. Both of them.
Bruce Wayne wasn't thinking. Batman didn't give him time to. All he wanted, at that moment, was to have the crazy clown scream his name.
Batman stopped, earning a choked snarl from the green-haired man beneath him. He leaned his devil's horns close, voice guttural and without mercy as he demanded roughly, "BEG for it, Joker."
Joker didn't even hesitate.
The pleas streamed from his scarred lips, grabbing at the Batman, fearing the vigilante would leave him high and dry, "Please Bats. Fuck me, fuck me hard. Pound me, I want you to do it. Do it. Do it, c'mon! Batsy, please!"
And Batman did.
He unleashed a torrent of thrusts so powerful the bed cracked against the walls. He pumped Joker's aching organ without mercy, hitting the one spot with his cock again and again and again.
Joker saw the stars and more, body growing rigid from the stimulation. He tensed and came harder than he ever had in his life, screaming in ecstasy, "BATMAN!!!"
And the Dark Knight followed closely after. The sight, the sound, the feel of Joker clenching around him was too much. Too much to handle without giving in. He roared his own deep release, seed spilling rapidly into the Joker's tight hole, the excess dribbling out.
Batman wanted to collapse in exhaustion. His body spent and satiated like never before. He felt as if he had run a few hundred laps around Gotham in record time. And from the looks of it, Joker looked to be in about the same boat.
-o-o-o-
Bruce Wayne sat in his penthouse chair, staring out the large glass wall, the dark city bathed in predawn light. Alfred had called again, but he hadn't picked up the phone. Couldn't.
Not yet.
The handsome billionaire turned to glare accusingly at the pointed mask in his lap. The cowl seemed to glare back.
What has he done?
It was as Ra's Al Ghul had said. He feared most what lay within him. His own power. His own rage. But the former mentor, later turned nemesis, had failed to mention one more on that damning list.
His own desires.
He was scared once more. As he had been as a boy.
This thing with the Joker. It terrified him more than anything in the world.
But he couldn't just be Bruce Wayne. He was the Batman. And the Dark Knight had a few more things to do for the city. A few more thugs to take care of. He only hoped he could avoid the cops that were out for him.
And hopefully the Joker as well.
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Even Bats Fall