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Black Diamonds	By : Triyune Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 2459 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don’t own Batman nor the Joker and I don't make money from writing this fic. Lyrics by The Beatles/George Harrison; Nine Inch Nails/Trent Reznor; Depeche Mode/Martin Gore; Genesis; Madness; Wolfsheim

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
Summary:
After a rough night and a caffeine flash, the Joker is up for retaliation. However, things get out of control, as usual, and he finds himself in quite an unusual situation again which demands just his compliance.

Just a play

I woke up when it was still dark. The repetitive low sound behind me told me that he was still asleep. 5am. I knew that it was 5am because the guards used to sadistically wake every inmate at 5am just to have them waiting for breakfast until 9. I didn’t want to admit it, but Arkham had left a scar in my heart. It wasn’t the fun place it had used to be for me some years ago anymore. There was a kind of darkness there which found no match in the world outside of it. Although my bones hurt I kept lying on my side, I didn’t want to wake him. In fact, I wanted to have some time for myself.
When I touch you
Had he been right? Had I been wrong to kill them? I had done it the way I had always been doing it, it was kinda natural for me to kill them without regrets. In my cheesy wonky world, idiot people deserved to die; it would make way for the creative ones to rise and change the town. From time to time, you had to clear up the forest for the rare, young trees to grow, otherwise, they’d never see the light.
Knowing that my view was just as wrong as his view of the world, I shifted though, moving away from him a little since his knee was touching my ass. I tried to let go of these thoughts and to fall back asleep.
Feeling your skin
However, that glorious plan didn’t work out since only the ghosts of Arkham kept haunting me as I was neurotically touching that subject of my escape again and again and I slid from the bed as silently as possible, leaving the sleeping room and heading for the kitchen towards the light.
Alfred sat there, reading the newspapers, drinking coffee. When he heard me he looked up with a disinterested face. By now, we had a silent agreement. Probably, I looked the way I felt, since he got up and started working on the coffee machine.
That alone was a depressing realization. Some time ago, I had tried so hard to keep up that facade, to appear as the invincible, indomitable nightmare of all upright men, and now I didn’t even bother to move my lips for a smile anymore.
When I sat down, I realized that it wasn’t necessary anymore. Neither he nor his butler wouldn’t get anything out of me acting the cold, distanced madman. He had managed to free me from my inhibitions. I could look at him with a serious face without feeling vulnerable. I had not known what I had been looking for, but now that I had found it I knew that I had been missing it.
“Had a rough night, eh?” the butler teased me finally when he put the cup in front of me and sat down as well.
I took a deep breath and glared at him.
“He must’ve realized that the Arkham massacre was caused by you, naw? I told him right from the beginning, but he wouldn’t believe me.”
“Thanks for your trust in me.”
“Always a pleasure.”
We spent the next minutes in silence, he taking great delight in seeing me so down and I pitying myself. Just until the moment when the lifebuoy crashed with my head in the shape of a sudden bolt of optimism.
Usually, that happened when I had been up for about half an hour, when the serotonin flooded my brain and woke me up. I hurried to drink the coffee.
“I need to take a car. Preferably that Cadillac your Master likes to boast about when he’s invited to strange gala parties.”
“Sir,” he threw that towards me with gritted teeth to let me know that he meant the title to sound as sarcastic as possible, “the black one?”
“No. The old one. I’ve seen it on TV, it is lovvely,” I smiled.
“Yes, it is indeed,” the butler replied sourly.
“Will you show me the way to it?”
“As you please,” the butler pressed forth between his teeth.
It was a nice feeling to have him doing what I wanted him to do. I couldn’t figure out why he did that; maybe he was hoping for me to fuck things up and get his Master angry enough to throw me out of the house. Or he knew that he had to do what I told him because I was his Master’s appendix. In for a penny, in for a pound. Anyway, Pennyworth showed me the way to the garage where I inspected the Cadillac, still only dressed in underpants. I smirked and left to get dressed.
____________

“Alfred, you seen him?”
“He had gotten up early and left then.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“How?”
“He took the Cadillac.”
“Which one?”
“Take a wild guess, Master Bruce.”
“Oh shit.”
That moment, Master Bruce remembered that he had kept that stuff in the glove box. When the girls were in low spirits, it would always help to lift them up. Master Bruce hoped that he would not open the glove box.
Master Bruce turned around then, worrying. He had been left alone again. Had he overreacted, yesterday, after the news? He hadn’t wanted to hurt him and though, he had wanted to teach him a lesson. Tell him that it was inacceptable for him to have him happily slaying people ever after. He could not have taken him wrong again, could he.
Just then he remembered about the tracker in all of his cars, but when he was about to switch on the search engine he stopped. It felt like betraying him. If he expected him to trust him he would need to trust the Joker as well. Otherwise, it was just some foul game. Torn between worries and trust issues, he sighed and went back to the kitchen to have a third cup of coffee. He was preparing for a long, long wait.
When I touch you...deep within
Meanwhile, I was driving through the streets of Gotham, mischievously smirking behind the tinted glasses of that pink Cadillac. What a feeling.
However, I was not randomly cruising around; I was heading for a certain shop. Ten minutes later, I had parked the car and entered the locality.
Handsome Tory smiled when he saw me. We had always been good pals since he was my favourite hairdresser. After exchanging the newest news I sat down and explained to him what I needed today. He was excited.
So was I.
Toe covered the mirror in front of me and disappeared. Staring at the grey blanket I was thinking of him visiting the hairdresser. I’d love to watch that some day.
After a few minutes, Toe returned with a brush and a small bowl. When he put the first load of hair dye on my head I could feel my heart beating in my throat.
I was a coward. At heart, I was such a coward. But I hid it with a broad grin. I had learned to grin when I was afraid of something. As it convinced the others of me being fearless it started to work on me as well until the fear was gone.
Usually.
When Toe was done with half of my head I was about to jump from the chair and leave, but I told myself to get on with it. I owed him something. It was the first time I made the acquaintance of the bad conscience. Not for the men I had killed.
For him.
Licking my lips, I closed my eyes and tried to welcome the surfacing feelings. As I changed outside, I changed inside as well. Unfamiliar, forgotten feelings.
Toe was done finally and put some plastic foil on my head. He didn’t ask why. He never asked why. He just did it, whatever it was and that was why I had been coming to him for a decade now. Toe left again and returned with two Martinis. We had always been doing it that way.
“It’s been quite some time, I guess you have either been to Arkham for a shave again or you did it yourself. Wanna be the beau, you got a gurl now?” he said, smirking as boldly as possible.
“Not exactly,” I replied without looking at him.
Toe was leaning against the wall, obviously knowing that something was very delicate about my wish with which I had come to him. Handsome Tory was a hairdresser. Hairdressers were curious as fuck. To conclude, Handsome Tory was curious as fuck.
“Not exactly? What you mean, you got a tranny? Would suit you,” he added and I could hear him smirking.
“Yeah, it’s a tranny. Her name is Cherry and she can squeeze your balls to death with her thighs. Unshaved thighs, you know. I like them unshaved and smelly.”
That was the moment when I could see that he regretted having asked me.
A sudden bolt of possessiveness and sentimentality at the same time opened my mouth in the most unpredictable way.
“It’s a man I’ve been knowing for a long time.”
I stared at the grey fabric. Toe stared at me. The grey fabric stared back at me. Heat clumsily ascended and left a trace on my cheeks.
“You’re gay?”
“Not exactly.”
“How can you be not exactly gay?”
“I can be whatever I please,” I replied sourly. The Martini was sweet as sugar, compared to my current mood.
“I don’t mind fags.”
“Look, it does absolutely not matter what I am and am not and whether you mind or don’t mind, can you just dye my hair?!”
“Hey hey, I did already, Mr. screamy steamy squeamish.”
He was the only one who could step on my toes without fearing to get shot in the head from behind. Simply because I couldn’t trust any other hairdresser.
“You think I don’t know about the complicated problems of closet fags, lesbos, drag authorities and straights? I’m a hairdresser for Goddess’ sake,” he added casually.
“Don’t you lump me in with those”`
“Hey in case you didn’t listen to me, CLOSET FAGS. LESBOS. DRAG AUTHORITIES. and STRAIGHTS.”
Swallowing down my growing anger, I dissociated, and I was an expert at dissociating.
“How can I show him that I like him?”
I did not believe what I had said right now. It didn’t sound like me. And though, I had a plan.
Toe pursed his lips. He was a pro at that. I knew that I’d just need to caress his ego a bit and he’d turn soft and gentle.
“Listen to him and care about what he says and wants. That’s the mysterious secret of all successful loveplay.”
“That’s all?”
“Mostly, yes. All other things are linked to that. Whether you bring him flowers or don’t disturb him when he’s working, it’s all about respect. Nothing more than that.”
Handsome Tory made me feel like a 16-year-old, standing behind the window of the girl’s loo, trying to get a glimpse of them while peeing. Toe himself was looking at the grey blanket, lost in thoughts. I didn’t know whether there was a Mrs. Handsome Tory or another Mr. Handsome Tory; I wasn’t interested in that at all, but his look told me that he had made some experiences as well.
“Have you had sex yet?” the words spilled from his lips as he absent-mindedly stared at the blanket.
Somehow, I enjoyed his great interest in me and I knew that whatever I would tell him, he would keep it to himself. Strictly, confidentially.
For a moment, though, I disapproved of his question. I wasn’t used to talking about such things. They made my heart beat faster. But I liked the rush of adrenaline, so I played along.
“More than that.”
“How can you have more than sex?” he asked, finally turning his head to look at me in disbelief.
A horribly telling smirk flashed across my face. Possibly, I was proud of that. Me, wacko number one of the nation, had managed to seduce one of those upright, totally straight men. The epitome of straight- and uprightness.
“We’ve had a lot,” I boasted gleefully.
“Like, what?”
“Like sodomy, blowjob, handjob, sadomaso shit, prostate torture, alcohol enem-“
“Christ, for how long have you been together?”
“A few weeks.”
“You know, the last time I saw you so happy you had just gotten rid of your Haley...what was that...Hal”
“Harley.”
“Yeah...”
Toe went silent. He took the two glasses along to wash them. I looked at the blanket, having shoved Hal aside and thinking about what the fuck I was doing there actually.
“Toe,” I called without turning my head, “What did I ask for?”
“Kidding me, you sick faggot? I dyed your hair!”
That was what I needed. Some humiliation to feel alright again.
Toe came back finally and removed the foil. He checked on the dye, then disappeared again. Just 5 silent minutes later he returned.
“Get up, we’ll wash it off.”
“I’m not sure I want that.”
“You wanna leave with that goo in your hair? Mr. ‘I like your fat dick in my ass’ won’t be amused at that. Get your ass up, Jeejay.”
I got up and got to the sinks where he washed it off, then back to the chair where he blow-dried my hair.
“Kay, time for the great moment!” Toe exclaimed and was about to take the blanket away when I hurried to get up and take his hand.
“Don’t. There’s more to it.”
“Whatya mean?”
“Not yet. I want you to make me up.”
Toe lifted an eyebrow and let his hand sink down.
“Make you up?”
“Don’t ask like an idiot, you got me!”
The more he teased me the angrier I got. Only he managed to tease me like that.
“Okay. What do you want?”
“Make me look...”
I went silent. How could I put it. I looked at the blanket and tried to imagine what I would look like now.
“Normal.”
Toe didn’t say anything. He turned around and fetched his paintbox, then turned the chair around so I faced him.
Toe pursed his lips, giving me a sassy look.
“Not too bad. Never seen you with that hair colour. Gonna make a posh fag out of ya.”
Then he started. I closed my eyes and when I felt the sponge on my cheek my heart skipped a beat. I had never done that before.
Toe took his time and worked very carefully. It took him an hour to finish me; he was a specialist. All that happened in silence while I had my eyes closed, fearing that I could glimpse the faintest bit of what I looked like now. I was really afraid.
“Open your eyes.”
I opened them and looked at him, my eyes spilling doubt.
Toe’s face lit up and he smiled. He was proud of his work.
“Nice. Just lovely. Wanna see?”
“No,” I hurried to say.
Toe lifted both eyebrows and slightly shook his head: “No? I can assure you, you look great.”
“No,” I said with a dry throat, feeling a little sick. I could imagine what I would look like and I couldn’t stand it right now. Moved by too many feelings, I got up.
“Toe, thanks a lot, I’m gonna-“
He took my sleeve and held me back.
“What’s wrong, Jack?”
“What?”
“What’s wrong?”
I looked around the room, checking for any watchers, any spies.
“You won’t understand. It’s okay. I’m just, it’s going to be alright, you know, it’s, I haven’t, he is...”
Toe pulled on my sleeve to make me sit down again.
“Calm down. You want some more Martini?”
Lost, totally lost, I looked up at him.
“Yes, I guess you want,” he said and got us two full glasses again.
“You know, you look right out fuckable.”
My heart was beating too fast and my hands were wet from cold sweat.
“Swear to me”
Toe laughed, then took my hand.
“I swear to you, you look fabulous. Trust me. If you don’t want to check yourself then you have to trust me.”
“Toe, I can’t look at that,” I replied with a swollen throat. I wanted to run. Somewhere, to a place somewhere, far away. Just then, I saw a long shadow following me. I made a decision then. If he liked it I’d stay with him forever; if he was disgusted I would leave the very instant.
I took the glass and emptied it, then I got up and left more money on the table than the hair-dye, make-up, Martini and working time was worth.
I ran my fingers through my hair. It felt different. More silky.
“You got some gel?”
“I got something better.”
Ten minutes later, I left Toe with neatly combed back hair. Confidently, I went to my car and continued my mission. The next parking place needed a pay and display ticket so I got me one, put one slip behind the windscreen and the other into the glove box. There, I discovered some small sachets with tabs. That weren’t painkillers nor some grape sugar. I put them back into the box and got out of the car. Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to explore it now. My next stop was at the Blue Opera. Boldly, I parked the car right in front of it and entered the building.
“Two tickets for Ragosia.”
The man smiled at me mildly.
“Sir, we’ve been booked up since March.”
I took a long and loud breath.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Should I?”
I took the seam of my jacket and bared my white wrist to the man. After realizing what that meant his eyes shut up to seek mine again.
“I am going to your fucking opera the first time and you treat me like shit, look, if I leave from here, not liking this place, I will return, but with a load of dynamite and some sweet napalm to blow up your sorry ass and anyone else’s innocent asshole, you got me?”
I watched him clenching his teeth and checking various options. When he had found an acceptable option he opened his mouth to tell me about it.
“Yes, Sir. The red balcony, seat A and B are reserved for you.”
I lifted an eyebrow and tilted my head.
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure,” the man replied dryly.
“Can I make a call?”
“Of course.”
If I had asked him whether he’d take my boots in his mouth he’d deliberately have done that as well.
I dialled a number and waited until I heard a voice.
“Tell him to be ready in 20 minutes, business attire.”
I didn’t wait for a reply but hung up. Smugly, I took the tickets and left. After that little episode of dominance I stopped by another shop to get me a fine suit. I dropped my casual clothes on the back seat and sighed. I’d face the moment of truth now. In very low spirits, I started the engine and left the street, heading for Wayne Manor.
Having arrived there I took a deep breath. All the time, I had avoided looking into the rear-view mirror at all costs and now it was just teasing me.
I didn’t have the guts to get out of the car. Not because it was raining and I was fearing that against Toe’s claim that it wouldn’t all just get blurred by some splashes, but because I couldn’t show up like that.
Funny, I had no qualms about undressing in front of him and showing him everything, but I couldn’t stand the thought of him seeing me like this. It felt like it was a part so private and secret that I couldn’t display it so openly without getting hurt by just a mere look.
You know that you'll love it
Then, I remembered the stuff in the glove box. Knowing him by now when it was about that kind of thing, I trusted him that it was some sort of fun. Confident that it would help me on my way, I opened the box and took a tab. It would let me forget my doubts and make me seek him. By now, I knew what kind of weapons I had to use against myself to get what I wanted just deeply inside.
You'll need it
I wasn’t entirely sure what it was, yet, I trusted him to not keep any shit which would give someone a hard time. Patiently, I waited in the car, listening to the rain, waiting for the thing to kick in. Mister sister, what a brain twister. I got off the track.
Fifteen minutes and various rhymes later I got out of the car and headed for the front door, a little ungainly, though. I rang the bell and waited. My heart was beating too fast.

The butler opened. He didn’t recognize me. Just when he opened his mouth he seemed to have an idea finally. He eyed me again, then disappeared without a sound.
I was left alone. Just then, I noticed an umbrella leaning against the wall. I took it and was about to open it, yet, the feeling turned clear all of a sudden.
I hesitated.
For sure...
I could feel the drops falling on my head. It didn’t feel any different from when I was someone else. The same sensation, a tickling feeling in a small area, an impulse reaching through to my subconscious, no matter whether I was him or me.
I looked up at the sky but quickly had to close my eyes because the rain was falling into them. Everything went dark. Silence, interspersed with millions of drops of rain, hitting soil, hitting stone, hitting grass, all blending into one big symphony.
For less than the fracture of a second, each atom playing its original tune, grazing reality as it fell from the sky, millions of miles from its origin down to its destination, taking the sound of that other world along and releasing it when hitting the ground.
Liquid ran down my face like a constant stream of caress, dripping off like shiny pearls of love, leaving a gentle feeling behind. Purest water touched my lips and sealed them up. All which I was keeping inside was about to erupt, I would have explained the world to him, had he been there already.
I lowered my head and placed the umbrella above me. Ear-splitting noise rushed through my ears right to the center of my brain and I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth for a second, frightened by the abruptcy and excplicitness. It was everywhere, echoing in my ears like a thousand-year-old repetition of the great nothing.
Reflexively holding the umbrella a little higher already helped a lot to cool down that hell.
I looked at the door, barely open. Just a bit.
The warmth lying behind it was tempting, one step. I could smell and I could see the honey which covered the furniture, all dipped in a honeywarm yellow light. That was where I had come from.
It felt warm on my skin, gentle, but blunt at the same time. Like solid bodies solved up in liquid, they clung to me and danced down my skin, feeling their ways to my eyes. When they touched them they burned them. I would learn to see with my newly grown pair of eyes.
Just one centimetre above.
It hurt.
Like a snake, another one wound itself down my throat, leaving a honey trail with her steps. It invaded the cells of my lungs to destroy them so I would breathe with newly grown lungs.
It hurt.
Like a sharpened titanium razor, some others grazed over my head, piercing the roots of my hair to kill it so I could show the real colour of my mind.
It hurt.
Like all-eroding, burning acid, another group soaked my nails to dissolve them so I could scratch back at the world.
It hurt.
Like a blinding realization, some of them crushed my mind so I could think freely.
It hurt.
Like a reason for the cure, it cured me so I could live.
It hurt.
I opened my eyes.
Bruce Wayne was standing in front of me. The presence of his person crushed me for a moment; I straightened my back.
I felt at home in his wrinkles his surprised face presented to me. I knew the pool of wisdom in that brown ring embracing a tiny black dot, becoming visible for a second. I prayed that I owned these lips, I prayed that they were mine.
I'm drawing your lines with my hands
The tune of the world moving around me returned to me and I knew that he could hear it too. There was more than just a physical thing reacting to another physical thing, much more to us. It was like I had suddenly gotten to know everything about him. He allowed me to read him. A vast, unending sea of gentle love opened up in front of me, similar to the moment when we had first met. I lost myself in it, instantly. He allowed me to explore it. I discovered the darkness in the sky. A passionate storm, floating on the warm, velvet water.
He allowed me to dive into it.
Warm, yellowish, like honey it caressed my skin, waking every cell in my body to respond to that gracious gift. I wanted to say something. It hushed me silent since it was absolute love.
It swallowed me, finally. And like a solid body, I dissolved in that warm, liquid gentleness.
I'm weaving the dream that never ends
He allowed me to stay.
My mind drifted apart, merging into that single feeling of divine acceptance. He gave it to me freely.
Then I discovered the strands of his soul. Like the frayed seams of a piece of clothing, it lay bare in front of me. A feeling overwhelmed me; I wanted to give it back, to return the favour. His absolute need of attention almost burned me. I had become aware of the truth that I had to do the same to him.
He allowed me to understand.
I don't play hide and seek... with you...
Then, his eyelid covered the iris and I was back in the world I knew, facing rain falling on my umbrella with ear-splitting noise, water soaking up my shoes and wind whipping some drops into my eyes.
“Master Bruce, as much as I regret saying this, but won’t you ask him out of the rain?”
Yes, he would. Still, with vivid and attentive eyes, he offered me a hand; I took it and he led me in. I knew it, it was warm.
Dear...
“I got two tickets for the opera,” I whispered, not courageous enough as to challenge the heavy silence inside.
I could watch him falling in love with me. Every moment clearly visible how he more and more lost contact with this world.
My voice had even thrown me.
He needed a moment until I could see some sense returning to his eyes.
“Then let’s go,” he said, nothing in his voice, nothing. I was pushed out into the rain and somehow I ended up on the front seat of a pink Cadillac with my favourite body falling down on the seat to my left. That’s where I entered again.
“What the crazy fuck have you done?” he whispered into the air in front of me. Luckily, I caught it and let it search for the correct brain cells to affect them and trigger a response.
“Dyed my hair,” I replied, hearing my voice drifting off towards an orangy-yellow hill.
He laughed. I doubted that he would do that, laughing. It could only be a hallucination. The first one that day, by the way.
“Why are you laughing?” I asked him in order to reassure me that it was just an illusion.
“No, I mean, what...have you done? Did you...take something?”
For a moment, he stared at me until the question in his face dissolved.
“You’re so beautiful.”
I should have taken something? It was clearly him who was slightly off-topic.
The honesty in that genuine look he let me glimpse made me lean back, close my eyes and smile a very broad smile.
And a very idiotic one.
“I see,” he said, a knowing in his voice which let me feel by every body hair that something interesting was on the way. A tingling sensation in a small area.
I saw his hand moving towards me, and then, I just felt it.
When I touch you...
Materialized warmth. His touch was so gentle that it spun the threads of time itself a little longer even. Again, I had that feeling that he was healing every smallest scar and bruise of my life with this one touch.
He had moved slightly downwards; now, when he set for moving his finger upwards again to give me the illusion that he was fondling my cheek, I felt like the stone of a fruit, gently enclosed by the yellowish honey-like pulp.
Aiming fingers searching secret pleasures
His finger moved towards my mouth and I helplessly bore it. The tip touched my lip and gently pressed it down to slide along it. From one side to the other side in a teasingly seductive manner. When he pushed through my lips I felt a pleasurable pang in my guts.
Helplessly, I bore that as well.
It touched the walls of my mouth, exploring it until it settled on my tongue. A burning taste. He added pressure to it and my head jerked. Slightly enough to not worry about it.
Roaming where your river seems so deep
Need traced down my tongue and reluctantly left my mouth.
It was cold out there.
His finger approached his mouth but it never touched it. His tongue darted out to lick it clean.
That was the moment when I saw the real beauty in him. He would give me and I would give him. He would take from me and I would take from him.
His tongue retreated back into his mouth to bathe in my scent. Funny what a little make-up could do.
He opened his eyes. Challenge in them. My hands and feet were tied; I couldn’t move. He was a strange beauty in the night.
He shook his head and not one single strand left the union on his head.
“I wonder if you will ever come back down,” he said with a sardonic smile.
“I wished I never would,” I returned, slowly understanding the rules of this system by now.
“So, you still enjoying it?”
“Whom?”
When he touched my crotch I hissed.
Not now, not yet.
My hand was on his, shoving it away.
He smiled again, then started the engine of the car.
I wanted to drive.
“I want to drive,” I said demandingly, suddenly remembering that liberating feeling of driving that car. Very primitive, but effective.
“If I wanted us crashing against the only tree on that road, then yes, you could drive. But I am not in the mood for that.”
You know I'm going on
A stupid mix of a laugh and cackling escaped me, something like raw giggles. The honey grew solid on my face.
“Sorry,” I breathed into the moving air. Everything was moving but I.
“Ten minutes and it will be alright.”
Ten minutes later, the world started to be alright again. I could clearly see the skyscrapers and blocks of houses, the lights in the lanterns, the people on the streets. Next to me my dark watchman. Right now, he was concentrating on getting the car through the Gotham rush hour at 9pm.
My mouth was dry.
“Bruce,” I said, my mouth doing its own thing.
A quick glance hit me and I felt heat spreading on my cheeks. Meekly, I tried to sit up and give myself some authority.
“How’d you feel?”
“Like I swallowed the universe,” I replied with a broken voice.
“Well, I hoped you wouldn’t find it. You don’t always get what you want and you don’t always want what you get.”
“Are you being serious?” I asked him, passionately disbelieving myself and mistrusting my perception of what was meant to be reality.
My head hit a cushion and I opened my eyes.
“What happened?” I asked him, miraculously out of breath, sweating and shivering.
I was in a car, comfortable seats, driven by Bruce Wayne.
Who sighed and smiled.
“You’re just adorable.”
I swallowed and looked around. Nothing unfamiliar. I should have been alright.
“What...just...”
“To me, it looked like a momentary nodding off.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“How long did that take?”
“I didn’t accidentally check on it, sorry.”
“Well, what, ten minutes, a minute?”
“Rather some seconds.”
“Just some seconds?”
“Yes.”
I stared out of the windscreen, watching water being shoved aside.
“I thought it was a drop-top?”
He burst into quite likable laughter again, which told me that I had said something utterly stupid.
“I’m...having difficulties perceiving what I just experience,” I said, pinching the brick of my nose. Just stating the obvious.
“I know. It will get better.”
Taking a deep breath, I leaned back into the seat and relaxed. If he said so. I watched the rain hitting the screen. Secretly, I peered at him. He was different. Maybe it was because I was different as well.
“So this is what you looked like before?”
He had addressed me. There was no one else in the car. Words flew towards me, I knew what they meant. Any time in my life, in any place, I would have answered with silence, but I couldn’t withstand that hypnotizing voice so I gave in and replied.
“Yes”
“What was your name?”
A million voices screamed two words and I closed my eyes, unable to live in two states at the same time.
“Can you just...” I whispered, my voice sounding odd to me. The honey on my face turned into ice. Ice, so cold that it hurt my skin.
“Are you okay?”
I had lost all my authority and had broken out into a cold sweat again; my forehead pressing against the window pane on its own. A rough move and the car stood still. The feathered wings of the Mother embraced me, darkening the world for me so I wouldn’t need to see it.
Musk.
His touch was consoling and comforting as I was struggling with that faded image of a man. He wasn’t a different person, he was me. That realization made me panic.
I froze, desperately trying to overcome the feeling that a huge rock was stuck in my throat. It was a strange bodily experience and I blamed it on the drugs. Warmth brushed over my cheek. Why had I had that stupid idea of revealing myself to him. No one had ever demanded that of me and he never would have demanded that of me either. I had done it deliberately. Water streamed down the glass. In the distance, that man walked towards me. I could clearly see his face; it was mine.
I needed to get away from myself.
A strong hand squeezed my chin and forced me to look up. It held my face in place.
Eyes that mesmerized me as soon as I dared to look into them emerged out of the dark.
Bright and piercing eyes. They reached for me, took my hand and helped me return.
“Panic and euphoria take turns,” he said, never looking away, offering me steadiness and security, “Just don’t give in.”
I gasped for air a few more times before I felt ready to talk again.
“What of that before has just happened?”
He snorted with amusement, his eyes growing smaller as he smiled, his features relaxing.
“How should I know?”
His smile made the ice melt. I felt the strength returning.
“I’m okay,” I added to assure him of my rearranged well-being, pulling his hand from my chin to turn my head and escape that prison. In fact, I was everything but alright but I just couldn’t handle his attention right then.
“It took quite some time with you.”
I blinked several times and straightened my back to assure him of my well-being. He fell for it, started the engine again and we continued our way.
“It was quite...”
“Disturbing?”
“Yeah. Among other things.”
He left me alone, gave me time to sort out feelings, experiences and sensations. A quick glance at him told me that he was doing the same.
“You looked like you saw something when I opened the door,” he said, never looking away from the street.
“Yeah, you.”
The smile was back on his face and I leaned back again, now feeling a very deep kind of happiness turning the world into a bazaar of pleasures. I remembered that I had to return the favour if given to me.
“I’ve never seen you that way,” I remarked, the honesty of those words aching.
“I’ve never seen you that way either,” he answered, holding back the giggling.
“I’m not going to wear the King-of-Fools-hat for the rest of the evening, okay?” I stated calmly but with a lot of determination.
“I’m not making fun of you. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you. For a moment, I doubted it was you at all. It looked so...”
I clenched my teeth and looked down. I couldn’t bear him talking about me in this way. It was against my firm belief that I was unlovable. I had never learnt how to accept a compliment. Simply because it had never been given to me before.
“...incredibly unreal and beautiful. And then, I understood that it was you.”
No one had ever made me cry.
Not in this way.
Staring out of the window, I let it secretly trickle down my cheek, enjoying the unbearable feeling of love being given to me.
I remained silent for the rest of the drive and so did he. When we had arrived at the opera we got the car parked and got out of it as two men who had changed.
There was something which couldn’t be described with words and which couldn’t be explained by images and it was connecting us. It made me move in confidence, finally having understood that I wasn’t wearing a mask but that the mask was wearing me.
We entered the opera, got our coats taken care of and got led to the private area. Like two men who were business partners, we sat down, each on his chair, waiting for the show to begin. There was champagne placed on the table behind us.
The room was dark, walls and cushions in red, golden chairs, a classic look. From my seat, I could just see a few other people to my right who were just as interested in getting disturbed as we were. We’d be completely on our own.
15 minutes later, all the lights went out and the curtain was drawn.
I like the song you'll sing

I tried to concentrate on what was going on.
I felt his look on me. After two minutes, I turned my head to look at him as well.
That turmoil of feelings in his eyes made me feel, just for a second, fear. Fear of absolute chaos. The single and only moment in my life when I was shown what that special fear meant. It was linked to losing something.
for me
Like a snake, he slid from his chair and went down on the floor, crawling over to me. I believed I was still dreaming. He spread my legs and placed himself between them. His hands worked on the button of my pants, pulled down the zipper and pushed fabric aside.
Things got more interesting on stage now.
Likewise, he pushed down the waistband of my underpants and took it out. My fingers clung to the armrests; I knew that this was going to be catastrophic.
When I touch you
While he took it out it already grew. Fingers stole a napkin from the table and others kidnapped the champagne bottle. He spread a bit of it on the napkin, then took it in his hand again, pushed back the prepuce and started cleaning it with the piece of cloth.
Some people were just carrying a piano around on stage, from one end to the other and back again.
“Aah...”
That had not been the napkin anymore.
He licked across the tip, then gently polished it. When he was done he unbuttoned his pants, took his dick and spread it on his tip with the napkin.
All that happened in hypnagogic speed and quality. I still wasn’t sober yet. He carefully placed the napkin on the table as well as the champagne, then got settled between my legs for good.
He had not touched it anymore since then, but I was hard now. For a moment, I feared it was that long that people would take notice of it and turn their heads to look at us.
You know that you'll...
I dreaded the moment he’d take me in his mouth. He was looking up at me, not waiting for permission and not begging to do it. Shrewd eyes watched every commotion surfacing in mine. I looked up at the stage where they were setting the piano on fire.
A loud moan escaped me which he interrupted by pressing his hand against my mouth.
Someone turned his head to look at me. The make-up hid the red cheeks. Through his fingers, I coughed in order to save the situation.
Slowly, his fingers slid from my mouth, down my chin, falling, only to recoil and shoot up under my shirt.
His fingers circled my nipple and squeezed it. My leg jerked, but not enough to cause some more upheaval by hitting the wall of the balustrade.
The piano was blazing fiercely.
He stopped suddenly and drew back, letting my dick bob back into its most comfortable position. He took off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, got rid of the tie and then of the shirt. To top it, he lost his shoes and socks and wound himself between and in front of my legs, wriggling out of his pants. I could even less believe that.
If someone had asked me what the show had been like I would have told him that I had never seen anything of the like before.
Naked, finally, and with a similarly happily bobbing dick, he returned between my legs and pulled at my pants so violently that I had to get up a little to keep us from making a scene. He pulled them down my legs, together with the undies.
I was Jack.
Jack sat in the opera, watching a burning piano while getting sucked off.
Jack was a happy man.
He took the bottle again and took a swig. Then, with the champagne in his mouth, he took one of my balls in and let the sparkling liquid play around it.
I needed to come really badly.
After some terribly enjoyable moments, he swallowed the champagne and let my testicle fall from his mouth. Watching him drove me mad.
He repeated that with my other testicle, yet, he kept it inside and teased it with his teeth.
My hand shot up to cover my mouth and eventually, a muffled cough left me. For safety reasons, I kept my hand resting on my chest then.
He moved his tongue down between my balls, touching that delicate line between them, then moving further down. His hands pushed against the underside of my thighs so I lifted them a bit and immediately, he pulled me towards him so that I slid down on the chair.
His tongue touched the perineum and I let my head fall back.
Everything moved along with me; the curtains, the ceiling, the walls, becoming one floating stream of colours.
After he had given that spot enough attention he returned to the upper levels. I looked down. From below, gleaming eyes devoured me. His tongue touched my skin again and I jerked. From my balls up to the tip, he licked along the raphe, making me shudder with pleasure. Not enough to make me come, but enough to kill all reason. Like a slug, it crawled up that steep hill, leaving a trail of saliva behind.
When he had arrived at the tip he drew back. I couldn’t bear it anymore, I needed it now. So long, I had gone without him; when he had visited me I had sucked him off and then, I had had him leaving me behind with a terrible boner and my hands tied behind my back. Then again, the pleasures of yesterday had been forgotten, driven away by an unsettling, painful experience dealt by him. He was making up for it now.
Overwhelmed with fiery passion, I grabbed his hair and pulled his head down, making his velum collide with my tip so forcefully that he had to gag. My hands might have been tied back then, but now, I was in charge. Letting me forget all and every high-class attitude of Mr. Napier, I leaned forward and shamelessly moaned in liberation, burying his head between my chest and crotch. And if the world watched me, I would moan as I pleased.
Without complaint, his lips closed around the flesh and his tongue caressed the underside of it, making me jerk again and giving him some space to move.
It didn’t make a difference. It was me, whatever colour my skin and hair was, it was me.
He started moving then, up and down, fondling my balls, giving me the sweetest kind of hell possible. His other hand had disappeared behind his back, I had no idea what he was doing but I didn’t care, my crotch was where the action was. Not long and I would burst.
Just when I could feel the orgasm coming he suddenly stopped. Whether it was my breathing or pre-cum having made him stop I didn’t know.
He looked up. Lust-drunken eyes caught sight of my face and revelled in my look. It was the same look in his eyes when I had met him the second time; no matter which appearance I showed him, he would love all of them equally. Pearls of sweat had formed on my forehead and my cheeks were glowing; he could not have missed that, not even through the make-up. He made me smile. Blissfully aware of what I possessed, I closed my eyes and gently touched his cheek. No human being in this world could live alone and enjoy life as much as a man could who had someone by his side.
When he moved I opened my eyes again, just to find him laboriously turning around between me and the wooden wall of the balcony. When he lifted his ass I became aware of the plan he was trying to execute. I couldn’t believe it.
Finally, he had managed to get himself into the right position. He was facing the wall now which perfectly hid him from the looks of others while I could remain seated and fuck him.
No sooner said than done. He reached behind him to grip my dick while moving towards me, resulting in him taking me in all at once. I could hear a muffled gasp and his fingernails dug into my thigh as he was trying to overcome the sudden pain.
I knew that pain. Sometimes, I was even craving it since it made me very aware of what was just happening and I knew that I would still feel a faint glow of that after some hours still. Stretched, but not stretched enough.
At that thought, I smirked and rocked my hips to move it in a little deeper, which, in return, made him press his cheek against the wood and gasp again. However, after that attack, I gave him the time to get used to it. Additionally, I reached under his body and lightly stroked his dick to help him experience that weird mix of pain and lust. It was so easy. He just had to tune in.
Looking at his scarred back reminded me of who he was. That thought made my dick twitch and I heard a dull amused snort. I wondered then whether it would be the first time for him. Usually, he was the one on top, screwing me senseless, bridling me, the invincible, taking from me. Now he had deliberately lowered himself, given himself to me and I could enjoy the honour he was dealing me by that.
When I felt his sphincter relaxing I moved a little and as I felt no resistance I wanted to move again, yet, he started moving instead.
It was one of the sexiest things I had ever seen, having him taking me in his ass and though, fucking me, doing all the work himself. I could see how hard it was for him, but he pulled it through nevertheless, up to the point where he put his hand on the banister to support himself. I knew that everyone would see what was going on if they just put one and one together now. But there was a stranger sitting there and no one would remember that he had come with Bruce Wayne.
Or come in Bruce Wayne.
I was close to orgasm again. To help him, I grabbed his flanks and started moving slightly as well, guiding his body, getting him to move in the rhythm I just needed. Then, I let go and squeezed his dick which made him contract his ass. My dick slipped from it, yet, forcefully, I pushed it back in again and came. I couldn’t stifle all moans and I couldn’t keep myself from closing my eyes. Giving in to the waves of that exquisitely dealt orgasm, I let go of him and leaned back, rolling my eyes back and swearing to myself that I would never leave this man, no matter what he would do to me.
I was still tensing up when I felt it fading, leaving a warm, content feeling behind. An itch that had finally been scratched.
Sighing, I put my hands on his back again to feel him. Just then, I became aware of him panting as well. When his wet hand clutched at mine I understood that he had come as well. An intense feeling of bliss made me close my eyes again. At that moment, I felt that I could let go. He would love me, whatever I would do and whatever I had done. He would accept me, no matter what kind of inacceptable things I would commit.
Absolute love.
And when tension's spilling down your skin
Love will never be what she once was
I gently moved him aside and slid from the chair as well. When I had found his head I lifted him up a little and kissed him. His lips tasted salty and he was still out of breath.
After our kiss, he placed his head on my chest and hugged me and I closed my arms around him as well and held him.
He wasn’t as tough as he pretended to be.
He was just like me.
Silently, we sat on the floor, connected in our minds and by our bodies. My white legs were gleaming in the darkness; I could not disown that other identity. But he didn’t mind. He touched me with just as much love as he did when I was without make-up. By now, the two identities merged anyway, a bit of this here and a bit of that there. In the end, it didn’t matter.
I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes, listening to the musical speeches of mad people, holding him close to me.
Eventually, after 20 minutes, there was a break; everything went silent and people started to chat and walk around. He moved too. He got out of my embrace and started to dress, and so did I. Still, he made sure that no one from down there would see him, crouching and while doing so trying hard to put on his pants and jacket. When he was done I moved his hair back into shape and so did he with mine.
“The make-up’s still good?” I asked, a little insecure, feeling like a haughty woman asking her friend whether she still was beautiful.
“As good as ever,” he replied with a smile and finally got up. Like a beautiful orchid, he unfolded into the air so matter-of-factly as if it had been the most natural thing to get up from the floor and show himself to the world. I did the same, knowing that I had no choice.
We left our little private space and entered a loud, busy world; hundreds of people flooding the corridors, carrying champagne glasses, eating nibbles and making new acquaintances. I wanted to do everything but that.
Suddenly, I felt intimidated. All sorts of first class Gothamites were hanging around there, talking, laughing, signing future business contracts and brainfucking each other.
I wasn’t used to that. I was used to the dirty streets of Gotham, the shady, shoddy places, reeking of death and despair, the fear that you could make another step and just get stabbed in the back; fear which dwindled the longer you walked those streets until you would become one of those which had to be feared.
With a lump in my throat I leaned against a nearby wall and watched some of them walking past me. Immediately, he noticed my absence and turned around. Benevolent, yet serious and worrying eyes searched for any clue which would tell him about the reason of my behaviour.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t like it here,” I replied bluntly, speaking the truth.
“We can go back to our place,” he suggested, resting his hand on my upper arm.
People would know that we weren’t just some business partners. They could not miss these vibes at all; they’d have been complete retards to not get it. To save his reputation, I took his hand and moved it away. I had to play along in this world, I couldn’t just do what I pleased. Just that moment gave me an impression of the life Bruce Wayne was leading. A facade for society.
“Mr. Wayne!”
Mr. Wayne’s head shot around. A neatly dressed man of about the same age came walking towards him with a grin.
“Long time no see!”
I heard him sighing next to me. Then he glanced at me for a second, telling me that I’d need to wait for a moment and that he did not like it but had to do what he was going to do now.
“Mr. Washers! You are right, we haven’t met for a long time. How’s your wife?”
“Excellent, thank you,” Mr. Washers replied with a grin, still. Then he looked at me.
A volcano erupted.
In silence.
Mischief spilled from my soul.
“Mr. Napier,” I said calmly and offered him my hand for a shake.
“Nice to meet you! What business are you in?”
“None of yours,” I replied coldly, which drew a laugh from him. After having gotten his share for tonight, he turned to Mr. Wayne again.
“Recently, I have been discovering a way how to...”
I watched him. Every move his lips made, every wrinkle showing and disappearing. How he inhaled before speaking a word and how he exhaled after a sentence. Stern eyes were glued to the man’s face. I could be such an asshole.
“And the formula is pretty simple, in fact, it doesn’t even take...”
He went silent and licked his lips in discomfort, now looking back at me.
“Well, Mr. Wayne, I would like to invite you for dinner if you are up to it and we can discuss things then,” he said, a desperate attempt at a bright smile just having failed.
“I will phone you,” Mr. Wayne said with a smile.
“Good...”
He still looked at me like he had seen a ghost.
“Mr. Washer, it was a pleasure to meet you,” I said and patted his shoulder, then turned around and went off, hoping that he would follow me.
And he did, the next moment he was by my side again, trying to hide a smirk from fully blooming.
“I think I should take you with me more often,” he remarked finally.
“Please, don’t.”
We walked down the corridor to the hall with the nibbles. There, we got us two glasses with sparkling alcohol and looked for a deserted corner where we could talk.
We clinked glasses and I took a swig; he didn’t. Instead, he watched me, hypnotized. I feared that he’d love that man more than me, eventually.
“Remember that this isn’t me,” I said, putting the glass down.
I tried to break the spell in the most brutal way possible to open his eyes. His look didn’t change; now he finally tried the sparkling wine as well. He licked his lips, then took a step towards me. Barely one foot separated our faces.
“I’ve seen you behind the make-up and dye,” he whispered against my lips, “it is shining through. You can’t be anyone else than the one you just are.”
He took my glass out of my hand.
“Mr. Napier.”
He placed both glasses on the windowsill and touched my cheek with his fingers. I couldn’t resist his charm; in this whirling, loud mass of glittering, hysteric people he opened up a world of calmness to me where I was safe.
Slowly, he moved closer and very carefully but with utmost love kissed me. It was a very sensual kiss, showing me how precious and treasured I was. All his love was in it.
It was a moment when I forgot that I was wearing make-up. All the time, I had been worrying about it, full of fear that he might prefer it or not like it at all until I finally understood that it didn’t matter. Petty things.
It made me stretch my neck and kiss him back.
“Mr. Wayne!”
I jerked and hit the glasses with my hand so that they fell to the floor and broke. When I looked up from that wine massacre he was looking into the direction where the call had come from. A man was standing in front of us, a few meters away. Surely, he had caught a glimpse of us kissing, otherwise he would have come closer.
He lightly put his hand on my chest and then turned to approach him. I swallowed and gazed at the emptiness in front of me.
“Hello, Mr. Hiob. What a fabulous play, isn’t it. I hope you are enjoying it as much as I do.”
“Mr. Wayne...”
“We will talk about the specifics of our business on Tuesday. I wish you a pleasant evening now. Send my regards...”
I watched him turning his head and looking at the woman to Mr. Hiob’s side.
“To your dear wife.”
Cheeks turned red, the man and the woman’s. He looked back at the man who clearly was in deep waters now.
“I will,” the man replied and bowed to greet him.
“Mr. Wayne, it is-“ the woman started out but was silenced by a finger pressing against her lips.
“It is alright, Colette. Don’t worry,” he said and finally left, dragging her along.
He returned, eyes searching for mine. I felt helpless.
“You don’t know how charming you can be,” he smiled and took my fears away, “I like that. A bit clumsy.”
I couldn’t help but stare at him.
“Adorable.”
I heard glass moving; he was sweeping the shards towards the wall with his shoe.
“Let’s get back to our place before the mayor spots me here.”
And so we did.
We spent the rest of the time sitting together, not talking at all.
Likewise, we went home. It was still raining. I listened to the sound of the drops hitting the roof of the car.
When we entered the house warmth greeted us. I had been feeling cold already and so had he since he was heading for the kitchen and prepared some hot water. Meanwhile, I casually leaned against the wall to wait and see.
When he had put the teabags into the cups he turned around and approached me. His hands hit the wall left and right to me and his forehead touched mine. He was a possessive fuck.
“Mr. Napier,” he breathed against my lips, “are you up for a night of pleasures?”
The way he pronounced that word made my dick twitch. It was a word which I never wanted to use or be used again. A taboo. Yet, forbidden things were the most interesting, tempting ones.
The feelings he presented to me, clothed in these words, were honest; they were direct and bare of any flourish. Honest expressions of love. He didn’t hide anymore either, neither behind a mask of brutality nor righteousness. Just a human being wishing to be close to another human being.
When I touch you
“I am,” I replied, not trying to disguise my voice or feelings either.
The water was boiling.
So was I.
One hand left the wall and fingers cupped my dick and balls.
Then, he leaned in to kiss me. Long, gently, yet passionately. The lipstick got a little smeared and bared red under it.
But I didn’t care and neither did he.

______________
- 7
- 8
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Black Diamonds