#in my heart it's batjokes ok you mean old man

[polararts]

Joker celebrates mardi gras or something.

[kenzie-kitty]

Enemies? Part 3 -Batman/Joker

Part 1 || Part 2

Part 3 and probably the Finale of this BatJokes adventure

This will probably be the most smutty part of the story, just fyi. Also may be triggering, and I don’t want anyone to hurt from this so this is your warning.

It was also at this point that it becomes a little more campy and silly in some parts, meaning I was giggling rereading this. 

Thank you for coming this far! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was two days later and Joker was back in his joke shop. He’d told his Bat where he’d been staying, receiving a few jokes just because of his choice, and was dropped off after spending an hour exploring the Batcave. He’d spent the past two days grinning nonstop and staring out the front windows of the abandoned shop, daydreaming.

He hadn’t put any makeup on either, mostly because he assumed his Bat would be busy stopping crime that he wasn’t causing this time. He was currently sitting in front of his small TV set watching an old episode of The Addams Family; he chuckled as Gomez and Morticia struggled to find a woman for Uncle Fester and failed each time. Suddenly, a breaking news report flashed onto the screen; he was about to change the channel, but figured it was worth watching just to see the end of the episode.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’m your newscaster Mike Engel here to give you some good news,” a man announced from outside a doorway that looked familiar to Joker. “I’m here at the penthouse of our beloved billionaire, Bruce Wayne, for the extravagant ball he’s holding. Now, Mr. Wayne, could you please tell us why this party is so important,” Engel said as the camera panned out to show a very well-dress man who Joker knew to be Gotham’s wealthiest playboy.

“Well, Mr. Engel, this party is being held in the hopes that the Joker will show up,” Wayne said bravely, smiling into the camera as anyone within earshot gasped in fear.

As they continued talking, Joker leaned forward in astonishment. ‘That voice… I… I know that voice, but it can’t be… He’s a billionaire! He wouldn’t possibly be able to find any time in his life to dress up as a bat and save people. Could he?’ Joker’s ears didn’t lie, he could recognise a voice in a crowded room filled with the sound of a TV that’s lost signal. Bruce Wayne is… Batman.

~~~~~~~~

Bruce waited anxiously in one of the chairs in his living room for his clown to show up; he wasn’t going to go out and face the last of the party who had stayed if only to try to pretend they’d be willing to protect him from the infamous Joker. He hoped his clown would show up, and he had no doubt that his voice would be recognisable to him.

He faintly heard the elevator ding as the elevator car arrived and the doors slid open.

~~~~~~~~

Joker stepped out of the elevator alone and looked around at the small amount of people who were there; they stared back fearfully, he assumed mostly because he had a shotgun in one hand. He wasn’t sure who would be waiting for him when he got here, and he’d wanted to feel slightly comfortable; it was the same reason he’d hastily applied his makeup.

After scanning the crowd for the billionaire who had a lot of explaining to do, and not finding him, he growled at the nearest waitress, “Where’s the Playboy?”

She pointed a shaking finger at a door next to one of the walls of windows, breaking down into tears of relief when he merely stalked past her without killing her. As he stepped up to the door, he heard the other party guests rushing for the elevator and stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce remained seated calmly in his chair even when the door was shoved open and roughly slammed closed. “Glad you showed, Joker,” he greeted quietly. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that his makeup-faced clown was holding a gun at his side. “I hope that’s not meant for me,” he said, nodding toward the gun.

Joker glanced at the weapon as though he’d forgotten he had it before placing it on a nearby table. “No, uh, it was for in case…” his voice trailed off as he glanced nervously around the large room.

“In case of what? In case I had a bunch of cops waiting for you?” Bruce was vaguely offended, but realised quickly that Joker was just not used to being cared about. “I wouldn’t do that to someone I cared about. Besides, I had Batman speak to Gordon about taking the price off your head,” he smiled lightly, winking at his little quip about his secret identity.

Joker nodded, although he was still shiftily looking around the room as if he expected a SWAT team to jump down from the room or through the windows at any moment. Bruce assumed that was pretty close to exactly what his clown was thinking.

Bruce stood slowly, noticing as Joker’s nervous gaze landed immediately on him, and adjusted his tuxedo so it wasn’t wrinkled from sitting. He then took slow steps toward his clown, stopping just in front of him; even without the Bat suit, he was a good two inches taller than Joker.

“I didn’t call you here to have you taken away from me,” Bruce assured him, placing a comforting hand on his clown’s forearm and smiling when Joker didn’t react negatively. His clown even gave him a little smirk, which showed to be the reason for his makeup always being cracked.

“So… you’re a, uh, playboy billionaire who dresses up as a flying rodent to save the city?”

Bruce laughed and nodded. “Yeah, but I never actually liked being a ‘playboy’. Women aren’t all that much fun,” he murmured, stepping closer and forcing Joker to move back before he got stepped on. Joker suddenly found himself backed against a wall with Bruce pressed against him, his hands place on the wall to either side of his head.

“Really? And you’d much prefer a guy in clown makeup?” Joker was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe normally as he felt Bruce’s warmth surrounding him.

The man in question grinned as he moved his face closer to Joker’s. “I’ve always loved a guy who knows how to laugh,” he murmured as his lips met his clown’s. He slid his hands down the wall until he reached the purple covered shoulders and pushed the fabric down until it fell to the ground. He then pushed the suit jacket to the ground on top of it, followed by the green vest.

Joker’s hands pressed themselves against Bruce’s tuxedoed chest until they moved to sit at his hips. His brain had stopped the second he felt those lips on his own, but when he felt the warm tongue lick along his bottom lip he thought he was going to melt. He happily opened his lips and moaned lightly when he was pressed harder against the wall, his head being tilted back by the hand tangled in his hair so Bruce could deepen the kiss.

When Bruce pulled back, Joker couldn’t stop himself from instinctively moving forward to try to keep the kiss going; he moved away quickly, looking away embarrassed. Bruce gently cupped his clown’s chin with his hand, turning it so he could see his face. “It’s ok, I didn’t wanna pull away either, but I also don’t feel like having to wash the makeup off my face… again.”

Joker chuckled, more so at the red paint staining his Knight’s lips, chin and the tip of his nose. “Too late. May I, uh, suggest baby wipes?”

Bruce smirked back before giving him a peck on the cheek and leading him through the large penthouse to his room. Joker wasn’t surprised to see the expensive looking… everything; the bed was covered in a navy blue comforter and had gray sheets underneath, the deep blue curtains were covering the large window across the room, and the other furniture was a dark mahogany.

“If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind, uh, showing me your real face?” Bruce asked him cautiously, knowing his clown didn’t go anywhere without makeup on.

Joker wasn’t sure how to respond; he wanted to, but he was afraid that seeing his facial scars clearly would end everything; people had a habit of running away from the man with the gruesome scars. He licked his lips in thought, vaguely noticing how Bruce’s dark eyes followed the movement, before nodding and nervously inhaling; his tongue pushed against his inner cheek when his other nervous tick made its appearance. Bruce offered a hand out to him and, when Joker took it, pulled him toward the bathroom.

“Do you… want me to go?”

“No, it’s fine,” Joker stepped further inside the (large) bathroom to allow his Knight through the doorway. He was handed a small bottle of face cleaner and a washcloth; he tried to hand the cloth back to the other man but Bruce wouldn’t take it, saying he didn’t care if it got stained. Joker twice folded the cloth into a medium sized square and poured a small amount of the cleaner onto the square. He brought the cloth up to his face and wiped his forehead, revealing his natural olive skin; he then wiped the black makeup away from his forest green eyes, and the white from his nose and upper cheeks.

He avoided looking in the mirror as he poured more cleaner on the clean side of the cloth and wiped away his Glasgow grin, knowing his scars were completely visible to Bruce. After he wiped away the makeup from his chin and neck, he turned to face Bruce nervously. ‘Moment of truth, I suppose,’ he thought, his heart racing.

Bruce stepped closer to him, cupping Joker’s cheek with his hand. Joker closed his eyes as he felt Bruce’s thumb caress the scar on that side.

“That doesn’t hurt, does it?” Bruce was concerned, he didn’t want to have accidentally put his clown in pain; he’d caused enough hurt in the last couple months, he didn’t want to do any further damage. He released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding when Joker shook his head and opened his green eyes.

“No, it’s just… people usually just look at me with fear and find excuses to leave. I’ve heard them all, including one about someone’s dog calling them,” Joker admitted, trying to lighten the mood slightly.

Bruce frowned and opened his mouth to say something before closing it again. Joker prepared himself for his Knight to toss him out and was surprised when he instead began kissing his scars. Bruce lightly traced the jagged scars with his lips before reaching the light lips at the middle; without makeup, they were a light tan color and were soft for a guy who constantly had greasepaint covering them. He placed the hand that had been on his clown’s cheek on the back of his neck, gently holding him in place.

Joker smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Bruce’s neck to pull him closer. “Thank you,” he whispered against his Knight’s lips.

“You’re welcome,” Bruce murmured back.

~~~~~~~~~ 

Joker had been told to make himself at home while Bruce went to work the next morning; he had also been told not to burn anything, but he hadn’t been planning on doing that anyway. For once in his life, he actually wanted someone to like him and not stop liking him. Which meant he’d have to hold back the urge to create a bomb and just… blow something up.

So, he decided to spend most of his day wandering around the large penthouse, to try to learn more about the billionaire vigilante than what anyone could find by doing an Internet search.

He’d only been awake for an hour when his plans ended in the kitchen; he had to admit, he’d never had as many breakfast choices as he had now. To his relief, he was alone in the kitchen as he opened and closed cabinets to see what food was there. He didn’t want to impose too much, as he wasn’t quite sure exactly how long the welcome would last, so he found a box of cereal (Bat Charms) and was about to pour the milk for it into the bowl when he heard the door open.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Alfred stepped inside only to pause when he saw the scarred man staring at him as though he’d been caught. Alfred knew instantly who the man was, no one would ever be able to forget the scars, but he wasn’t scared; he couldn’t be when he’d known the man had stayed the night and was going to hopefully stay many more.

“Good morning, Mr. Joker,” he greeted in his kind yet professional way. “Did you sleep well?”

Joker shuffled nervously, placing the carton of milk on the counter in front of him. “Morning,” he replied quietly, clearing his throat. “Yeah, uh, I did. Thanks.”

Alfred nodded, stepping carefully toward him; he didn’t want to startle him or come off as a threat. “If you’d like a hot breakfast better, I could make you something.”

Joker glanced at the box of cereal he’d put on the counter along with the milk before looking back at the older man. “I, uh, didn’t want to… impose…”

“Oh, it’s no bother. Master Wayne told me to make sure you felt comfortable here and got almost anything you wanted. Although, I do think he was kidding when he said to hide the knives,” Alfred quipped with a smirk.

Joker chuckled and nodded, grabbing the milk and cereal to put them back in their places. “Well, in that case, what are my options?”

“Anything you wish, sir.”

Joker thought for a moment before gaining the courage to ask for the one breakfast he hadn’t had for years. “Pancakes?”

Alfred nodded and began moving around the kitchen, preparing the requested food. “You can go relax, Mr. Joker, and I’ll bring you your food when it’s done,” he assured him.

Joker nodded shortly before leaving the kitchen and finding his way to a room with a smaller table and only four of chairs. He assumed this was Bruce’s personal dining area; sitting at one of the seats, he rested his elbows on the table and folded his hands under his chin. He was really starting to like Alfred and was glad he hadn’t killed him the last couple times he’d been to the penthouse. The older man had a certain wise charm that Joker couldn’t quite name but knew he liked.

As though his thoughts had summoned him, Alfred entered the room and placed a plate of perfectly round pancakes in front of Joker along with an assortment of toppings.

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted to go with them, so I brought you different toppings. If you’d like anything else, just shout,” he gave a slight bow before stepping out of the room.

‘I don’t know how he got them so perfect, but I know it had something to do with magic,’ Joker jested to himself as he poured maple syrup over the stack and covering them in powdered sugar.

~~~~~~~~

Joker made sure to stack his now empty dishes on the end of the table; he was cleaning any mess he’d made off the table, more out of personal habit than anything else. He’d always been forced to clean after he ate or drank or did really anything.

“Mr. Joker, I just want to remind you that it is my job to clean,” Alfred’s voice sounded behind him, amusement clear in his tone.

Joker turned to face him and shrugged. “Old habits, and whatnot,” he said sheepishly.

Alfred gave him a kind smile before grabbing the dishes out of his hands. “I assure you, old habits are not as tricky to put an end to as most would think,” he nodded at the scarred man before once again exiting the room.

~~~~~~~~~~

Time had passed as Joker explored the penthouse, and after lunch he found himself standing in front of one of the large windows in the ballroom he’d come to know too well. In all his time in Gotham, he’d come to realise that he’d never really looked at the city, not in the day at least. He knew it was large, but from Bruce’s building it also seemed electrically alive.

He was so distracted by the city, he didn’t hear the elevator open or the footsteps that followed. The arms that suddenly wrapped around his waist from behind startled him, but he relaxed when he smelled the familiar cologne of his Knight.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Bruce murmured in his clown’s ear. He’d finally been able to get out of the meeting with a potential client and had rushed home, hoping his clown hadn’t left. He was pleased to see the familiar slouched figure standing in front of a window, wearing the same blue-ish purple hexagon-patterned shirt and deep purple slacks he’d worn yesterday.

“It’s okay, I’m just glad it was you. You have no idea how terrified I’d be if you’d been Alfred,” Joker chuckled, sinking back into the taller man’s chest. He felt more than heard Bruce’s chuckle, and grinned at the deep sound.

“So, how was your day? What did you do to amuse yourself?” Bruce asked curiously as he turned Joker around in his arms so they were facing each other.

“I just looked around, rummaged through your kitchen, came to realise that Alfred’s really wise,” Joker said casually.

Bruce grinned at the vague answer, although he knew exactly what he meant by Alfred being wise. “Yeah, he’s something alright. As I’m sure you know, he’s kind of been my only parental figure since my parents… passed.”

Joker wasn’t quite sure how else to reply besides nodding slightly. It suddenly occurred to him that the way Alfred acted seemed almost fatherly; he wouldn’t really know firsthand how a father should act, but he was sure it was close to how Alfred acted with Bruce. His thoughts were interrupted by Bruce’s soothing voice.

“Did you want to get your things from your, uh, hideout?”

Joker had forgotten about that, but agreed he probably should get his things. He realised that his henchmen would either be waiting or gone. “I, uh, forgot that I had a whole team of criminals working for me. I should probably send them all home,” Joker grimaced as he tried to think of something to tell them. ‘They’d probably laugh me outta the city if I said I was retiring for a billionaire. Although, it’d be worse if I said it was for Batman,’ he thought with annoyance at the idea of them losing the fear he’d inspired merely because he’d fallen in love.

“Why not just tell them you’re taking a vacation to make sure you don’t get bored, but you’ll let them know if and when you need them again,” Bruce suggested, head tilting slightly, somehow seeming to read his clown’s mind.

“Are… are you, uh, suggesting that I’ll be needing them again?”

“Well, this city needs both hero and villain. It shouldn’t have to matter that the two happen to also be lovers,” Bruce pointed out with a suggestive smirk.

“Mr. Wayne, I believe that harboring a wanted criminal is illegal,” Joker teased.

“Apparently, so is dressing up as a flying rodent,” Bruce retorted, brushing his nose against Joker’s playfully. Joker chuckled and leaned into Bruce’s chest, effectively giving him a cuddling hug; Bruce smiled and held him there, kissing his clown’s head lightly. The green dye that had covered his light brown hair was fading and Bruce suspected he would be dying it again soon.

They stood in each other’s arms for a few heartbeats longer, until Bruce decided he wanted to change into more comfortable clothing. Joker followed him into the bedroom as his Knight stripped off his suit; by the time they stepped into the room, Bruce had taken his jacket, tie and shirt off and tossed them sloppily onto the ground next to the laundry hamper.

Joker gasped lightly when he saw the bruises and scars scattered across his Knight’s back and shoulders. “H-how many of those were, uh, from me,” he asked in an apologetic murmur. He wasn’t surprised that he had scars but the amount that were there and how severe they looked had startled him.

Bruce, who had began rummaging through his closet, looked up at him with a slightly confused expression before he realised what his clown was referring to. “Not too many, you haven’t been attacking me as… harshly as you used to,” he assured calmly,though he was telling the truth.

Joker winced nonetheless as he thought back to the days when he thought his feelings for Batman were those closer to hate. He supposed the reason it hurt him now was because he’d forced himself not to think about the pain he’d caused his Dark Knight.

“Hey, trust me there are no hard feelings between us,” Bruce comforted him before giving him a smirk that could only be described as saucy. “Well, there is one thing.”

Joker chuckled, feeling a blush threaten to spread across his face; to his relief, it didn’t. Bruce had turned back to his closet digging before stepping into the bathroom, seemingly finding whatever he’d been looking for. Joker took the opportunity to make a quick phone call to his henchmen.

“Boss! You alright?! We was worried you’d gotten captured by the Bat or something,” his favored of the small “organization”, as he called it, shouted excitedly into the receiver.

Joker had to giggle slightly at how close the assumption was. Regaining composure and trying to sound as normal as possible, he threatened, “Not, but if I hear about any of you, ah, going against me, I’m gonna make sure to set a specific example for the rest of you. Got tha-t?”

He could practically see the fearful expression that should be plastered across his man’s face. He couldn’t help but grin at the thought of the fear, but shrugged it away so he could hurry and give his instructions to the man. “Alright, now, listen. I want you to round up about, ooh, five other guys and meet at the new Gotham General around, say, nine-ish. I won’t be meeting you all there, but believe me I’ll be watching closely. What you’ll be doing is sneaking in to take three filled bottles of pain meds, a bottle of pancuronium bromide or Pavulon, and a pack of syringes. Drop them off at the joke shop at midnight, preferably behind the counter, and then go home. If there is one thing missing, the six of you will all be shredded. Understand?”

He heard a slight rustling and assumed the man had nodded, not entirely realising he wasn’t being seen. “Y-yes, sir.”

Joker was about to tell him to also grab medical tape, but he was suddenly unable to form words. Bruce had walked out of the bathroom at that very moment in nothing except dark blue basketball shorts. Joker cleared his throat slightly and managed to mumble a distracted “Good, good” before hanging up and dropping the phone next to him on the bed.

“What do you need pain meds and an anesthetic for?” Bruce asked, not quite noticing how his clown was staring at him. Had he noticed, he likely would have imagined him drooling.

Joker tried clearing his throat again, hoping he could distract himself enough to be able to hold conversation without staring at the muscular and tanned chest of his Knight. “Oh, uh, n-nothing right now, I just thought I’d have it around, uhm, just in case,” he managed to stutter out.

Bruce, stepping over to his previously discarded suit, bent at the waist to pick the clothes up and place them in the hamper. Joker couldn’t help but smirk a little as he glanced at the billionaire’s ass, but looked away as he turned back around.

“In case of what,” Bruce asked, stepping closer to his clown. Joker looked up to see his Knight’s waistband just in front of his face.

“I-in case we need, uh, to, uh, tend to wounds,” Joker stuttered, feeling his mouth slightly water. Bruce leaned forward, causing Joker to fall back onto his elbows. ‘If I’d known I had been sleeping next to this man last night, I would’ve acted on… well, all of my urges,’ he thought, licking the inside of his cheek along one of the sensitive scars.

“Or do you just like to keep your men in place,” Bruce’s throaty question sent shivers down Joker’s spine at the entendre in his words.

He decided to figure out what exactly his Knight was trying to lead them into. “Uhm, Bruce? I know you’ve probably realised this from the moment you put those shorts on, but, uh, you’re very hot. And you’re being very not subtle about coming onto me.”

Bruce’s eyebrow raised at the implication, noticed how his name seemed to roll off his clown’s tongue, and smirked in a vaguely evil way. “So you’re saying that we have two hot men in a bedroom, one on the bed and the other half naked, and they haven’t started to do anything yet? Huh, I’m shocked… and you’re horny,” he growled suggestively.

Joker groaned, feeling his pants grow tighter than they already were and realising that they’d soon become painful if he didn’t take them off. Before he could move on his own to do anything, he was being pulled back into a sitting position, finding himself much closer to Bruce’s crotch than he had been before. His mouth watered and he couldn’t stop himself from placing his hands on his Knight’s hips and pressing his lips against his stomach.

Bruce moaned lightly as he felt his clown’s scarred lips kiss languidly down his stomach, the sound becoming more of a growl as those lips neared his throbbing cock. Joker took the waistband of the dark shorts between his teeth and looked up at the billionaire with a fake innocent look, winking suggestively before tugging them down and sliding to his knees on the floor.

“Fuck, Jay,” Bruce groaned in euphoria as Joker wrapped his lips around his hard cock, his cheeks hollowing slightly as he sucked once before pulling back slightly. He inhaled sharply as his tongue swirled around the tip, his mind completely going blank with pleasure as he felt a hand slip down and squeeze his balls slightly. He tangled his hand into Joker’s surprisingly soft hair and tugged his head back sharply, causing him to let out an aroused mew. “How’s that gag reflex?”

“What gag reflex,” Joker purred, knowing exactly what Bruce would do next.

His Knight didn’t disappoint him as he thrust forward harshly, his cock being forcefully thrust down Joker’s throat. He paused a moment to let his clown adjust how he was sitting so that he wouldn’t be knocked over before he started slowly fucking his throat. Joker giggled around the large cock as Bruce picked up speed, choking only a couple times due to his giggling; he couldn’t help himself, the image of himself being face-fucked by the rich playboy amused him.

But it also aroused him, causing his own cock to ache with need; he used the hand that wasn’t currently squeezing his Knight’s hip to undo his pants and slip down the front to try to relieve the pressure. He matched the speed of his strokes to Bruce’s thrusts, making himself moan as he teased the most sensitive spot on the underside and running his tongue along the same spot of Bruce’s.

“Oh, god, Jay. I’m close, I’m so close,” Bruce rambled, his words slurred with his oncoming climax. Through the fog of arousal, he noticed the obscene sounds Joker was making, the wet popping sounds and slight choking especially moving him. He felt his balls tighten and knew he couldn’t hold his climax off any longer; he came with a grunt, the warm liquid spurting down Joker’s throat.

His clown swallowed as much of Bruce’s cum as he could, but some had managed to escape his mouth and he could feel it dripping down his chin. Bruce growled slightly at the sight of his cum on his clown’s chin, but when he saw the mess Joker had made on the floor he went wild.

Gripping Joker’s shirt by the collar, he shoved him back onto the bed and tore it open, tossing it to the floor where a few buttons had clinked down. He climbed on top of the smaller man and roughly pressed his lips against Joker’s, his hands tugging the purple pants completely off and tossing them with the skirt.

“Jay, I’m so fucking turned on,” he growled into Joker’s ear, nibbling on his neck just below his ear. Joker bit his lip and moaned, his back arching into his Knight’s chest, as his neck was attacked with Bruce’s tongue and teeth.

“Then what are you waiting for, my Knight,” he taunted breathlessly. “Fuck me already!”

Bruce growled in his clown’s ear before hooking his thumbs inside the waistband of Joker’s purple and green striped boxer briefs, tugging them down teasingly slow as he continued nipping and licking his way down to his clown’s collar bone. Joker couldn’t help but let out a harsh sigh of relief as his painfully hard cock was released from the tight fabric of his underwear, the sharp exhale turning quickly into yet another moan as Bruce sucked on the skin just above his nipple.

“I’ll fuck you… when I feel that you’ve begged enough,” Bruce growled, his teeth suddenly digging into Joker’s shoulder and causing his clown to let out a surprised bark of laughter. He couldn’t help but notice the way Joker’s hips spasmed more at the pain than at anything else; he decided he could use that knowledge to his own advantage.

Joker attempted a growl of his own, the sound sounding strained, and shifted under his Knight; although he’d been asking for it, he wasn’t begging. And the Joker doesn’t beg, so he informed his beloved of this fact.

Bruce glared playfully at him and shoved his fingers roughly into the mass of green-tinted hair, yanking him off his back and onto all fours. Joker didn’t fight back as he felt the mattress shift behind him, feeling warm fingers caress his sides lightly. “Oh, believe me, you’ll be begging,” Bruce promised, smirking as he dug his nails into his clown’s hips, enjoying the aroused whine Joker let out.

“Nope,” the clown objected breathlessly. Bruce shook his head even though his clown couldn’t see and once again burying his fingers into his curly hair, this time pulling him up onto his knees. Resting his chin on the shorter man’s head, he held one shoulder in one hand and used the other to graze over Joker’s hip, coming close to but avoiding his hard cock.

“C’mon, J. You’ll have to give in soon, and no, I’m not gonna let you help yourself,” Bruce smirked, his hand stopping its movement to rest just above Joker’s shaft.

“Fuck,” Joker cursed under his breath, knowing his Knight was right and that he couldn’t suppress his needs; he pressed back against Bruce, teasingly grinding his ass into the other man’s bare crotch, grinning when he heard the low groan that made Bruce’s chest vibrate slightly against Joker’s back. “Bruce,” he whined, knowing he sounded very much like a cheesy porn star.

Bruce moved the hand that had been on Joker’s shoulder so he was able to flick his finger over the hardened nipple. “Not good enough,” he whispered into Joker’s ear.

“Please, please fuck me, Bruce! I need it, please,” Joker begged as Bruce’s nails scratched up his side; his back arched as the pleasure pain sent shivers down his spine and straight to his leaking cock. He suddenly found himself on all fours again as Bruce pushed him forward, and he spread his knees further apart for his Knight. He heard the familiar sound of a condom wrapper being opened and moaned when he heard the slick sound of lube being spread.

“Do you want me to prepare you or would you prefer doing it yourself?”

Joker smirked even though he knew Bruce couldn’t see it. “I think the question is, do you wanna finger me or do you wanna watch me finger myself?”

Bruce hummed in thought for a heartbeat before responding. “I’d love to watch you do it yourself, but I’d also like for this to not end quickly,” he teased, spreading leftover lube around two fingers.

Joker gasped when he felt a cold finger penetrate him and lowered his head to his now folded arms, now feeling the digit slide out to be replaced by two. A breathy moan escaped his throat when the two fingers thrust further into him, scissoring open to stretch his tight hole. A third finger joined the other two as Bruce sped up the pace, earning a squirm and a loud moan when he brushed against Joker’s prostate.

“Now would be a, uh, great time to use that thick cock of yours, Batsy,” Joker growled breathlessly. He knew he wouldn’t be able to wait any longer, his cock twitching in anticipation.

Bruce slipped his fingers out of his clown’s hole, replacing them with the tip of his latex-covered cock. He gripped one of Joker’s hips with one hand and put the other on his clown’s shoulder for leverage as he slowly pushed himself deeper inside Joker’s ass. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he murmured in Joker’s ear.

“For fuck’s sake, just fuck me!” Joker’s needy growl sent shivers down Bruce’s spine and he thrust forward forcefully, burying his shaft fully inside Joker’s tight hole. Joker’s back arched as he grinded back on his Knight’s cock, drawing a strangled groan from the taller man.

“God, why haven’t we done this sooner?” Bruce breathed as he froze in place to let Joker’s hole adjust to his size.

Joker chuckled breathily, “I assume it’s ‘because I’m a psycho murderer?”

“No, not psycho,” Bruce corrected. “But the whole murderer thing probably didn’t help.”

Joker laughed again before pushing back against Bruce. “Enough talk, let the fucking ensue!”

Bruce chuckled, though the sound had a growling undertone, and pulled out so just the tip was inside his clown. “If you insist, Jay,” he replied. Joker let out a gasped cry as Bruce thrust forward quickly then repeated the thrust over and over, creating a rhythm of hard thrusts.

Bruce’s thrusts came faster as he felt Joker tighten around him; Joker moved with each thrust, his teeth digging into his own arm, which muffled his aroused cries of assorted expletives. Bruce, his mind reminding him of Joker’s masochism, dug his fingers into his clown’s hips. Joker gasped and moaned, his own fingers clutching at the dark comforter.

“I know you can do a lot better than that, doll,” Joker taunted, his voice bouncing from his Knight’s hard thrusts. His hand gripped his own cock when he felt the fingers on his hips tighten; a surprised yet aroused yelp escaped his throat when teeth suddenly sunk into his shoulder, and his hand began pumping his cock for the second time that afternoon. He vaguely felt nails scrape his sides, but was too distracted by the euphoric tingling in his shoulder and his own right hand pumping his shaft.

His aforementioned hand was suddenly pulled off his cock and placed back on the comforter, only to be replaced by the taller man’s hand. Bruce’s lips, no longer on Joker’s shoulder, were pressed against his ear. “I let you touch yourself once, Jay, but it’s my turn now,” he murmured huskily. Joker whimpered submissively as his Knight’s hand moved insufferably slow along his length.

“Please…,” Joker trailed off helplessly.

“Please, what?”

“P-please let me cum,” Joker pleaded, thrusting his hips into Bruce’s torturous palm in attempt to gain more friction.

Bruce continued with his slow strokes, the leisurely speed of his hand contradicting the wild thrusts of his hips, and Joker wasn’t sure how long he could last. “Bruce, I can’t… I can’t hold it back. Oh, god!” He yelled as his Knight hit his sweet spot, whines escaping his throat as he hit the same spot three times more. His warm cum spilled over Bruce’s hand as he moaned loudly, lean body shaking with his euphoria.

Bruce’s own climax rushed over him as he felt his clown’s muscles tighten around him. He bit into the soft flesh of Joker’s neck, releasing him only a moment later when they came down from the blissful high. The billionaire rolled off to Joker’s side, pulling the slightly smaller man into his arms; they were laying the wrong way on the bed, chest to back, smiling contentedly.

“My ass is gonna be very sore,” Joker murmured sleepily. “And I have to go get my things from the joke shop.”

Bruce chuckled, happiness rolling over him as he fully comprehended that his clown was in his arms and entirely nude. “I could go get everything if you’re too tired,” he offered.

Joker rolled over so he could press his face into his Knight’s chest. “Thanks, but it’ll have to be me. The, uh, boys would be suspicious if they saw the Batman grabbing my things. They’d probably shoot if they saw Bruce Wayne. No, I’ll go later.”

“Didn’t you tell them to go home after dropping the stuff off? I wouldn’t even have to deal with them if I went.”

Joker gave him a meaningful look. “The day those idiots actually listen to me will be the day the murder rate of this city hits zero,” he joked, smirking at his Knight.

The two fell asleep holding each other in their arms.

~~~~~~~~~

Joker stepped into the joke shop just after eleven that night, his coat’s collar pulled up to hide his bare scars. He found the bag of medicines where he’d told his lackeys to leave it and grabbed it as he walked to the room he’d been sleeping in. He then proceeded to find one of his duffel bags and packed the few belongings he had inside of it; nine days’ supply of outfits, five of which were what most would call his “costume,” a large assortment of socks, two pairs of shoes and makeup (greasepaint and regular). He hid the medicine under the barely folded clothing and zipped the bag, placing it on the small bed and grabbing a smaller duffel bag.

He tossed his large assortment of knives into the second bag along with the few guns he had before turning to debate whether he should bring the grenades and larger weaponry with him. ‘Maybe he could put it in the batcave,’ he thought, subconsciously pulling out the cell phone with Bruce’s number on it. He debated the idea, holding the phone in his hand, before finally hitting call.

“Hey, do you need me to pick you up?” Joker smiled as soon as he heard Bruce’s smooth voice over the phone.

“Well, uh, yeah, but I also have to ask about a couple of things,” he replied, pacing slightly as he spoke.

“Sure, what are they?”

Joker cleared his throat before saying, “A few grenades and a, uh, bazooka. Oh, and I just found a flame thrower. Huh, didn’t know I had that.”

He heard Bruce’s chuckle over the phone and was about to ask what was funny before his knight replied. “We can put them in the cave, just be careful with the grenades. Why the hell would you have a flame thrower?”

“I dunno, sometimes I take stuff I don’t need. And I’m always careful with grenades!”

Bruce chuckled again. “Alright, well I’ll be waiting in the alley next to the bakery. Just give me about five minutes.”

“Alrighty, see you then, Brucie.”

“See you then, Jay.”

Joker disconnected the call with a grin before putting the grenades in the second bag and zipping it up. He grabbed the bazooka, its ammo and the flame thrower and placed them carefully in a separate duffel bag, checking to make sure the safety was on both weapons before doing so. ‘This is not going to be fun to carry,’ he thought with slight aggravation as he stared down at the three bags he’d have to carry the block to the bakery.

He pulled the bag with his clothes and makeup over his head so it rested against his hip, then crossed the one with his knives over so it was on his other hip. He shifted both so they wouldn’t hinder his ability to walk before grabbing the last and heaviest bag and walking to the front door. He looked back to quickly check that he’d grabbed everything important and walked out the door with some difficulty. Sighing, he began his walk to the deserted dessert shop. ‘Heh, punny,’ he jested to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce sat behind the wheel of his silver Lamborghini as he waiting for his clown to arrive. He’d only just pulled into the alley next to the bakery, but he didn’t feel comfortable on this side of the city at least not without the suit. The Narrows were definitely not the place for a billionaire, nor a billionaire who’d spent most of his money trying to “fix” the lives of the Narrow inhabitants. Apparently the deed he’d thought was generous and kind was taken as extreme insult by most.

So, he had good reason to be concerned about being here for long; it wasn’t everyday a sliver Lamborghini drove through the littered streets and someone was bound to notice eventually. He knew Joker was the prince of the Narrows, but Bruce had apparently gotten into the habit of worrying about his clown.

‘Speak of the devil,’ he thought humorously just as sad clown came into view. Bruce immediately raised an eyebrow as he opened the passenger door from the inside. “Whatever happened to liking the simple things,” he joked nodding his head at the three filled bags.

Joker delicately placed one of them behind the passenger seat before sitting down and removing the remaining two bags from around his neck. “Compared to your closet, this is nothing,” he retorted, dropping the smaller of the two to his feet and looking at the open door to the car for a moment. He looked back at Bruce with a vaguely bashful expression. “I, uh, don’t know how to close the door, Brucie.”

Bruce smirked before reaching over him and tugging the door down. He moved back slightly, stopping to place a small kiss on Joker’s lips before sitting back in his seat. He clicked on his seat belt then looked at Joker, who was smiling and fiddling with a zipper on the bag in his lap. When the car didn’t move, Joker looked questioningly at Bruce.

“Buckle your seat belt,” the billionaire instructed only to receive an exasperated look. “It’s for your safety, just put it on.”

“Fine,” Joker grumbled, rolling his eyes as he clicked the strap over himself. Bruce held back a smirk as he pulled out of the alley and drove quickly down the road. “You seem nervous about something. Everything okay?” Joker’s concerned question broke the momentary silence of the car.

“People on this side of the city don’t exactly welcome my kind to their streets,” Bruce admitted, glancing at his lover from the corner of his eyes.

Joker frowned but nodded, knowing he’d been one of those people when he’d first arrived in Gotham. “People here don’t generally want to change who they, uh, are. If they did, they’d work hard to better themselves and get to your level. Crime is something you only get away from if you really want to, if you have something or someone that can convince you to change.”

Bruce nodded, feeling slightly touched that Joker would share that much with him, though he had come to learn not to read too much into the things he said; with as many attempts as he and the police force had made to get information about the clown, they still had nothing.

“What if they had an opportunity to have a steady income, nice home and safe life? Isn’t that better than risking their lives to steal money and moving from building to building?”

“It’s not really about the money, not entirely. For many, it’s about the thrill, the excitement. The-the fireworks! Why do you think I blow things up all the time? Honestly, it’s not like I have a hostage for every single explosion. No, I do it because it’s exciting, it gets the adrenaline pumping and the heart racing,” Joker explained, arms waving excitedly.

Bruce could kind of understand what he meant, though most of his excitement came when he donned the suit to stop such crimes, but he couldn’t help but (finally) admit to getting a certain thrill when he had to avoid getting blown to pieces by Joker’s “fireworks.”

“That actually makes sense,” he said, sitting back in his seat as they finally passed into a more rural part of the city. He turned onto a street he knew lead to the Batcave before turning his head to see Joker was watching him with an unreadable yet familiar expression. “Listen, Jay, I’m not going to tell you to stop doing things that make you happy, but I have to ask that they not end with corpses. If we’re going to be together I don’t want there to be any bodies, okay?”

Joker nodded. “I’d do anything to not lose you. But, uh, perhaps there should be some exceptions? Such as if someone is threatening your life or if it was an accident?”

Bruce gave him a small smile. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

“I will take that as a yes,” Joker beamed, restlessly shifting in his seat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean I can’t try out the flame thrower down there?! Your cave is like one giant, flame resistant playground! It’s not like everything’s made of wood and would burn to the ground!”

Joker’s whiny complaining echoed through the large ballroom of the penthouse as he and Bruce stepped out of the elevator. They’d arrived back there after finding places for the grenades, flamethrower and bazooka, but had been discussing his means of having acquired the weapons during the drive. Upon entering the building they had transitioned into his knowledge of how to use said weapons and just as they reached the penthouse Joker’s suggestion of them trying out the flamethrower in the cave had been shot down.

“Because when you play with fire you get burned, and I don’t want to risk anything,” Bruce insisted as he headed immediately to his room. Joker followed with his remaining two bags, continuing to try to persuade him to change his mind even as Bruce changed into his pajamas and got ready for bed.

“What are you doing?” Joker asked, having finally given up on his previous cause.

“Uhm… getting ready to go to bed? What else would I be doing?” Bruce asked, wiping away the excess toothpaste from his mouth and turning to face his clown.

“I dunno, I thought you were going to, uh, patrol the streets,” Joker shrugged, dropping the bags to the floor in front of a chair in one corner of the room as he draped his coat over the arm.

Bruce shrugged, walking out of the bathroom and leaning against the door frame wearing the same dark blue basketball shorts as he had earlier. “Well, you’re here so I’m pretty sure the city will be safe for tonight. That is, if you’re actually planning on staying,” he said quickly, not wanting to make the wrong assumption.

Joker smiled smally before stepping up to his knight and kissing him on the cheek, leaving a red smear in his wake. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured assuredly.

“Good,” Bruce grinned. “But if you want to sleep in my bed you’ll have to take off the makeup.”

Joker smirked but went into the bathroom to do exactly that. He somehow found himself being more and more comfortable around Bruce without the makeup; he supposed it had only been strange at first because he’d worn it for so long that it was practically stained on his skin. ‘Maybe it’s the same for Brucie and the cowl,’ he thought as he stared at the less tired looking man who stared back at him in the mirror. He noticed his green eyes were shining with a new life and the dark bags under his eyes were almost gone.

‘Well, I guess domestication has done wonders for me,’ he thought happily. ‘Or maybe it’s just love.’

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

(Time skip! 1 month later)

Bruce was hosting yet another party, however the guests had no idea who the special guest of the evening would be. They were, however, aware of the charity they were donating to; all funds raised would go to innovations on Arkham Asylum and it’s staff.

The dark-haired man in question was currently standing in front of his bed in his room, fixing the sleeves of his shirt and jacket as he listened to the muffled sounds of the party. Once he was pleased with his clothing, he glanced at the half-closed bathroom door and sighed impatiently. “C’mon, hurry up. Everyone’s waiting for me to show and announce the guest of honor.”

He heard shuffling before the door opened fully to reveal his beloved wearing a halter-style crimson ball gown that showed off his muscular yet feminine shoulders and arms with black heels; his eyes were lined with black eyeliner with smokey eyeshadow and his lips were covered in a bright red lipstick, though his scars were left uncovered. His light brown hair, still tinted a light green toward the tips, was cleaned and brushed. Bruce smiled at his man who smiled back smalley.

“Bruce… are you sure they’ll accept me? I mean, I’m kinda the thing that haunts their nightmares,” the shorter man said nervously, smile fading.

“You’ve shown them that you’ve changed, they know that you’ve decided to stop terrorising them. If anyone says anything… well, then they can go fuck themselves,” Bruce assured him, pulling the skinny man into his arms. “Besides, I’m sure they have enough faith in me to know I wouldn’t put everyone in danger.”

The smaller man snorted but nodded as they stepped apart. “Fine, let’s go,” he murmured anxiously.

Bruce nodded and led them to the end of the hallway, stepping out in front of the other so they’d only see himself, gaining the crowd’s attention by clearing his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to thank you all for coming and donating to Arkham’s innovations. Now, I’m sure you’re all wondering who my guest of honor is, but before I announce him I have to ask you all keep as open a mind as possible. He is a great man, one who I’m sure is going to be as much a help to this city as I try to be. You all know the old him, but you have yet to get to know the new him. Ladies and gentlemen, tonight’s guest of honor, Jack Napier.”

He turned to the side and held out an arm for Jack to take. The crowd was a mix of scared and angry murmurs as they saw the man they once knew as “the Joker” step out on the arm of their favorite son. Jack’s hand squeezed Bruce’s arm as he nervously smiled at the crowd.

“What the hell is he doing here?! He doesn’t belong here, he belongs in Arkham!” A man in the crowd shouted over the rumbling murmurs, followed by similar comments and agreements from half of the crowd.

Jack flinched and his mouth opened slightly as though he wanted to say something, but before he could speak he released Bruce’s arm and ran back into the bedroom. Bruce glared at his guests, who had decided to split up into two groups based on their opinions of Jack, and followed after his lover. He closed the door softly and looked around until his eyes found the curled up form of his clown in the far right corner of the room; stepping toward him, he heard sniffling and saw Jack’s shoulders shaking with half-suppressed sobs.

“Jack… Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” Bruce murmured as he sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his shaking back.

“I-I told y-you-oo. They’ll never accept m-me,” Jack said between sobs. He leaned into Bruce’s side, though his head was still buried in his arms atop his bent knees.

Bruce pulled him closer, using his other arm to enclose him in his arms. “Even if they don’t now, they will one day. Otherwise, we can go anywhere and be anyone we want. I don’t care where we are or who we’re with so long as I have you, Jack.”

Raising his head from his arms, Jack searched his eyes and smiled when he apparently found was he’d been looking for. “Thanks, Bruce,” he sniffed, giving him a peck on the lips.

~~~~~~~~~

Barbara Gordon had been one of the quiet guests at the party, standing next to her Commissioner husband as they all saw the guest of honor announced. Although she knew the Joker had been the town’s most hated demon, she also knew that Bruce Wayne and the various doctors and judges would lie about him turning good. So, while almost half of the guests were shouting and berating him, Barbara watched his reaction.

She had seen how nervous and worried he’d been when he stepped out from behind Bruce; even from the slight distance she and Jim had been standing, she could see he was clinging to Bruce’s arm like his life depended on it. As soon as the man (she couldn’t tell who it had been) had began the rude shouts, she saw fear and sadness make their appearance on his features. A motherly pang of sympathy went through her heart when he rush back down the hallway; finally turning away, she noticed that Jim seemed unsure of what to do or say.

“Jim, he’s a changed man. He doesn’t deserve this,” she pleaded determinedly to her husband over the sounds of angered complaints from the one half of the guests.

Commissioner Gordon paused for a moment as he thought over the situation. Just like his wife, he’d seen the fear evident in the young ex-terrorist’s eyes, but after the amount of time he’d seen the clown wreaking havoc on his city he was a bit reluctant to feel any sort of forgiveness for him. It was in that moment, and with his wife’s pleas, that he found he was finally able to give Jack a second chance.

“Alright, everyone! Be quiet and listen up! Jack Napier is not the same man as the Joker, though they share the same body. He is a good citizen who made mistakes and is making up for them and I’m not going to allow you to harass him anymore. So, if you have a problem with Jack, feel free to leave and stay away from him,” Gordon shouted to the room. The guests who had been verbally abusing Jack mostly sheepishly went into hushed groups to consider the Commissioner’s words and have their normal polite discussions.

Barbara turned back to her husband and smiled thankfully at him. “Oh, Jim, I knew you could find it in your heart to give the boy a chance. Now, let’s go talk to him. I think he needs to make some friends to get through these barbarian’s assaults.”

She led the way down the hall to the closed bedroom door, gripping Gordon’s sleeve tightly with one hand, and tapped gently.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce and Jack were still huddled on the ground, though Jack’s tears had slowed yet not entirely stopped, when there was a light knock on the door. Jack tensed, obviously expecting the rowdy guests to riot against him physically, but Bruce rubbed his back gently.

“Who is it?”

“Bruce, sweetheart, it’s Barbara and Jim. We just want to make sure Jack’s okay,” the muffled voice of Barbara Gordon replied. Upon the acceptance of their request the married couple walked through the door. Barbara immediately walked slowly over to Jack’s unoccupied side and knelt down beside him; Jim closed the door and remained standing awkwardly near it, though he seemed more uncomfortable with the prospect of having to somehow be comforting rather than who he would be comforting.

“Hello, Jack,” Barbara began softly, gently placing a hand on the distraught man’s bare shoulder. “I’m Barbara Gordon, we haven’t officially met. It’s lovely to finally meet the man that’s stolen Bruce’s heart.”

Jack sniffed and smiled smally at the middle-aged woman. “T-thanks, Mrs. Gordon. It’s good to meet you too,” he said, though his voice was quiet enough to be a whisper.

She gave his shoulder a slight squeeze and smiled. “You can call me ‘Barbara’. Now, Jack, I saw how… nervous you were when you first stepped out and I know that the group of snot-nosed, barbaric idiots out there didn’t help. At all. I just want you to know that if they do it again, Jim here will send them away and I’ll give them a mothering that’ll make them want to stand in the corner and write an essay of apology to you.”

Jack laughed and slowly stood when both Barbara and Bruce offered their hands to him. The latter wrapped his arm protectively around his lover’s waist and the group left the bedroom, the Gordons in the lead. The remaining guests, who had returned to the party activities, looked at the group as they re-emerged and most smiled reassuringly at Jack. Bruce leaned down to whisper in his lover’s ear, “I’m expected to mingle, but if you want me to stay with you I will.”

Jack shook his head and gave his Bat a slight nudge. “No, no. Go mingle, I’ll be fine here,” he whispered back. Bruce nodded and walked off with the Gordons, leaving Jack to stay in the corner he’d deemed his safe spot. He was far enough from the other people to be left alone but not too far away so that he’d be too out of place; he already had the scars to make him more noticeable.

After an hour had passed, Jack had created a sort of pattern to how he acted. He would remain by the refreshments table when no one else was near it, but then would quickly move back to the corner when someone came closer. He was currently back in the corner with a flute filled with chardonnay when he felt a presence behind him. A tanned hand landed on his shoulder lightly causing him to jump; he turned his head and saw that the man in question was the detective who seemed to always have been the one to watch him when he got himself caught.

“Detective Stephens? A-am I in your way or something?” Jack asked nervously, knowing everything the man would (and should) have against him.

“Not in the slightest, Jack,” Stephens replied with a gruff yet warm voice. “I just want to say that you have nothing to fear from anyone here. We all have accepted that you’re a changed man and that you truly are sorry for everything you’ve done in the past. Now, go mingle with your playboy before he dies of boredom.”

Jack smiled and nodded before shaking the detective’s hand and went out further into the room to find his Bruce.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End!

Thank you for reading! I can’t express how happy I am to have people enjoy my writing.

If you have any requests, I am still 100% willing to write BatJokes, just send me a message and I’ll get back to ya as soon as possible.

Love y’all!

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