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Chapter Text

The call had come in way too late at night. Someone was found tied up in an abandoned warehouse near Amusement Mile, a bag over their head. The police instructed the man who put in the call to stay outside just in case this was some sort of sick game from Joker. It was too close to the first of April for anybody to want to push it. 

Nobody went near the warehouse but Bruce. Jim was nearby, but far enough that anything that happened in there stayed in there. That was a lesson they had both learned a long time ago. Joker never wanted anyone but Bruce to show up when he tried shit like this. 

The person that was tied up wasn’t squirming or making noises like you would expect a Joker hostage to do. Which made Bruce even more cautious.

He snuck up to the tied up figure, getting his fingers on the bag over their head and tugging it off quickly. 

It was Joker.

He smiled as best as he could around the gag in his mouth, bloody red lips staining the leather. Bruce took a step back, shocked.

“What the hell…?” He muttered to himself as Joker kept on smiling.

He pulled the gag out of Joker's mouth, drool following it as Joker made a little noise that Bruce didn't want to think about ever again.

“Seems you've found your gift, darling” Joker said with a little laugh, “Don't you like it?” 

Seeing as how said “gift” was Joker tied up on the floor with a gag in his mouth like he was offering himself as a sexual sacrifice, no, he didn't like it.

But Joker just kept smiling like he loved this kind of attention, and, knowing the clown, he did. Bruce took a deep breath, trying to keep calm even with the absurd circumstances staring him down. 

“What was the… point of this gift?” Bruce asked slowly. 

Joker just smiled at him like the cat that caught the canary, “You know what, darling” 

Bruce stared him down. Joker’s challenging gaze never broke. 

Bruce, however, did break. He let out another sigh, shoving the gag back in Joker’s mouth. Joker laughed around the leather. Clearly he thought he won. 

Bruce was ready to show him that he wasn’t. 

He flipped Joker onto his front, shoving him to the floor with an anger he couldn’t imagine feeling with anyone else. He could tell from the lack of clothing that Joker was already prepared before this, it was just a matter of starting to fuck him. 

Joker whined when Bruce took just a little bit too long to take the codpiece off. Somehow Joker had already memorized the exact sound of the clasps releasing from the two times they had been together already. Bruce decided that he was going to wait even longer to get to it even though he already felt like he was going insane with want. 

He tugged on the ropes making sure that they were secure. It was crazy to think that Joker had done this to himself, but he must have. He knew Joker’s possessive streak went deeper than him just wanting Bruce all to himself. He wanted Bruce to realise that he wanted Joker all to himself as well. He wouldn’t dare let anyone else see him like this. 

Especially not after last time when they both scarred each other so deep that Bruce feared they’d have to go to the hospital. 

Then Joker whined again and every ounce of restraint that he had been showing flew out the window.

“Try to stay quiet” he said before shoving himself inside down to the hilt. 

Joker screamed behind the gag, eyes rolling to the back of his head with pleasure. Bruce felt similar, his whole body singing with it. 

He wanted to make this fast, he wanted it to last as long as possible. If he could stay in this moment forever, he would. But, however, he knew that Jim would only last so long without a check in before he’d start to worry. 

So he sped up, happy to hear Joker’s little moans as he kept going. He wasn’t paying attention to Joker other than that. This was his “gift”, he was going to use it as he damn well pleased. 

He didn’t notice when Joker’s come splashed on the concrete floor. He didn’t notice when Joker started making noises that sounded like begging. He just kept going, chasing that euphoric high he knew was coming. 

“You look so pathetic like this,” Bruce hissed in Joker’s ear, voice thick and gravelly, not just from the modulator. 

Joker whined, back arching to get Bruce inside impossibly deeper.

And that’s when Bruce came. 

They sat there, breathing in sync for several moments before Bruce finally let Joker drop to the floor, squirming on the concrete. 

He didn’t dare pull the gag out just yet, just grabbed Joker’s clothes from where they were folded up in the corner and threw them at Joker.

“I know you can get out of those.” he said, pulling out wet wipes and cleaning himself off. 

Joker laughed again and Bruce found that he wasn’t sick of the sound yet. He tugged a few times on the rope with the bits of his fingers he had access to and the ropes gave way. 

Then the gag came off, and, god, was it a terrible idea to let him untie himself because he did not want to hear a single word that would come out of his mouth about this. 

“Did you like it, darling?” he said, stealing Bruce’s wet wipes to shove up his ass to clean himself. 

“It was fine,” Bruce said, lying through his teeth. He had loved it. For once he felt like he had a handle on whatever weird thing they had started a few weeks ago. He felt in control. 

Joker glanced at him with a smug look on his face, pulling his pants up with ease, “Mhm, yeah sure, love” 

The ride to Arkham was silent other than Joker’s humming. 

And of course it was a song his mother used to play around the house when he was younger. 

“Stars shining bright above you~ Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’” 

Usually he’d oversee the intake process just in case Joker tried to escape, but now he just needed to go to sleep. Plus, he didn’t want to see the looks on the guards faces when they did the full body search and noticed that Joker still had come lodged up his ass. 

And later that night, in the shower, he did some things that he wasn’t proud of while reminding himself of the muffled screams behind the low quality leather. 

All while his brain was singing.

“Stars shining bright above you~ Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’” 

Chapter Text

Jack hadn't been working at Wayne Enterprises all that long. He had been part of a recovery program that Bruce himself had set up. Despite being a former patient at Arkham for a suicide attempt gone wrong, he was one of the most confident people Bruce had ever met. 

Which explained why Bruce had wanted to get to know him. He had always been a sucker for magnetic personalities. 

Except a week after they had started talking, Jack had somehow ended up bent over the desk with his pants around his ankles. 

And they'd been doing this ever since. 

So when Jack walked into his office on that Saturday afternoon, he knew nothing good could come out of it.

“Hi, baby. What are you doing in the office? Everyone else went home already.” 

“Then why are you here?” Bruce countered, continuing to fill out useless forms, not even looking up at Jack.

“Maybe I was hoping that you’d still be here,” Jack said, leaning on Bruce’s desk.

“Then it doesn’t sound like you’d be combining about me not going home” 

“Or…” Jack said with a theatrical tilt to his voice, “We could go back to my place. I’m sure it won’t impose on your life too much. Don’t you want to fuck me on an actual bed?” 

Bruce rolled his eyes. He hated it when Jack got desperate like that, especially when he was trying to work. 

“Jackie, not right now” he said, still ignoring Jack in the hopes that he'd eventually leave him alone when he realised he wasn't getting what he wanted. 

“Please, Baby,” Jack begged. He pushed himself up to sit on the desk, legs spread wide, “I promise I’ll stop bothering you” 

Bruce sighed, moving his work off his desk so that Jack wouldn't mess them up. 

“This isn't a good idea,”

“That's not what you said last time. Or the time before, or-” 

Bruce shoved him a little, effectively shutting him up by making Jack giggle, “Shut up”

“Make me” 

♦♠ ♥♣

So here they were, twenty minutes later, with Jack spread out nakedness on the couch, eyes wide with want.

“Oh and here he is,” Jack said, breathless, “Indulging me during his long day. Aren't I a lucky girl” 

“You look like such a slut” 

“Mmm, I do, don't I?” Jack mused, stretching out on the couch like he owned it, “Why don't you fix that?” 

“I don't think I can,” Bruce laughed at the absurd request. Jack wasn't ever anything but a slut in his eyes. He knew that fucking him would only make him worse.

Jack laughed at him, “You're funny, darling.” 

Bruce couldn't ever remember being funny before.

Jack pulled a small bottle of lube out of his pocket. The vial was warm from being pressed so close to his skin all day. Bruce almost chuckled at The fact that Jack had been carrying this around all day, just hoping that Bruce would say yes to fucking him. 

He poured a generous amount onto his fingers, coating them in slick warmth. Jack made a strained little noise, mostly because he knew what was coming next. 

Usually, it took an army to get Jack out of the elaborate suits he always insisted on wearing to work, but he'd already shed those, so Bruce didn’t have to fight against straining fabric in an attempt to get to Jack's skin. His fingers slipped in easily, not because Jack had already prepped or anything, but simply from the fact that they had been in Bruce's office doing the same thing only yesterday. Jack was the most insatiable creature Bruce had ever came across. 

Ha, “came across”.

He had certainly come a time or two.

Or more like almost every day since they met a month ago. 

Jack moaned, loud and unashamed, happy to be used like this. He squirmed, trying to get Bruce's fingers deeper, but Bruce kept a firm grip on his hip with his left hand. 

“Tease,” Jack hissed through his teeth.

“Says you,” Bruce growls back. 

Then he shoved himself inside even though Jack was nowhere near ready. 

Jack moaned loudly. He had always been loud, no matter what Bruce did to him. His voice would always end up hoarse for hours after one of their… sessions. Bruce smiled to himself smugly, knowing that nobody else got to see Jack like this. 

They had made a pact. Nobody else but the other. Not exclusive, more like with a mutual understanding. 

Jack’s nails scrambled for purchase on Bruce’s suit. He didn’t find anything solid enough to grasp, the expensive silk giving way under his fingers. 

“Fuck” Jack gasped, almost going cross-eyed, “You're good at this, Wayne.” 

“I thought we established this. No one else, remember? Wasn't that your idea? Wasn't I so good that you didn't want anybody else to have this?”

Jack hadn't exactly said that when he proposed that they go exclusive, but it was heavily implied. Bruce snapped his hips once just to hear Jack's responding gasp-n-moan combination. 

“Don't stop” Jack yelped, like it had taken all of his force to say that. 

And Bruce didn’t intend to stop. He pounded at Jack's ass with a fervor that only came out of him when they were in a rush. He had to get home soon, Jack had been right about that. 

It was then that he realised that he didn't actually have to make both of them finish…

And that one thought alone, of leaving Jack here by himself with an issue he wanted Bruce to fix when Bruce had already solved his own, made him come harder than anything they had ever done together.

Jack hissed through gritted teeth when Bruce unexpectedly pulled out, leaving him on the couch still fully hard and leaking. 

“You bitch” Jack growled at him, jerking himself so quickly it looked painful. 

Bruce found himself mesmerized by the sight, breath caught in his chest as he watched this marvelous creature stroke himself to completion. Jack's face contorted with pleasure before he tilted over the edge, come spilling along his knuckles.

“You're an asshole, you know that?” Jack said, sitting up slowly.

“You've told me” Bruce responded casually, fixing his clothes and starting to pack up his work stuff. 

“Y'know… we could still go back to my place?” Jack said, sliding up to Bruce's side, still completely nakedness, “We could always have some more fun~”

Bruce shoved him away, “Put your damn clothes back on, Napier”

Chapter Text

Jack hadn’t been expecting the fight to go like this. Hell, he wasn't sure why he had shown up shirtless. 

He had just wanted to prove something, that Bats was nothing but an idiot in a Halloween costume. He wanted to prove that the Napier Initiative was more important than some fucking billionaire beating the shit out of the mentally ill.

And yet here he was, selfishly wanting to fight him one last time. 

At some point, they had shifted from beating the shit out of each other to Jack assaulting Bruce's mouth with his own to Jack being pinned to a brick wall with Bruce’s dick up his ass. 

And it was glorious. 

This wasn’t what he had expected at all. 

He moaned loudly when Bruce hit his prostate dead on, hitting it with an accurate precision he'd have to tease the bat for having later. Now he was too focused on the pleasure bursting behind his eyelids. 

He slammed an already bloody fist against the brick wall, screaming an expletive he wouldn't usually say, especially not that loudly. Bruce hummed at the swear, like he was happy to hear that he had broken Jack that much. 

“Darling,” Jack moaned, getting excited when Bruce flinched at the word. The whole point of this wasn't love or even pleasure.

It was destroying the other one so bad they wouldn't be able to recognize each other. 

Bruce grabbed at his hips all the harder. Jack wouldn't be surprised if he woke up with little finger shaped bruises there in the morning. 

Good, he wanted that. He wanted this man to mark him. 

Harley wouldn't like it though. He honestly had no idea why he had proposed in the first place. He was already in love.

And that love was reaching around him to fist at Jack's cock. 

Jack let out a little, “ah,” when kevlar covered fingers wrapped around his straining dick. He hadn't expected Bruce to give him back some of what he was taking. He wasn't going to complain though, he loved this. 

Bruce's movements were rough, like he wanted to get this over with. Jack was about to give him what he wanted though. He could feel his release creeping up on him. 

He was going to end up getting cum all over the wall and he knew that Bruce knew that. 

“Please,” he begged, voice split in half. 

With one last long tug on his cock, Jack came against the wall with a shudder. Filmy white fluid stained the brick in front of him. He let out a long groan that had lodged itself in his throat a long time ago. 

Bruce didn't say anything afterwards, just bit down on the nape of Jack's neck, surely leaving a mark there. Jack hadn't even noticed that Bruce had come, but now he knew for sure. He felt a sticky liquid oozing its way out of his asshole with the force of gravity. God, did it feel good. He hadn’t felt this thoroughly used and stretched in ages.

And Jack found himself not caring about the bite. He knew that Harley was probably going to see it and that she probably wasn't going to like it. Maybe she'd see the cum dripping out of his asshole too. Maybe it'd stain his dress pants when he sat down for a meeting later.

He didn't give a shit, he was leaving it in. 

“Baby,” he moaned when Bruce pulled out. He was freaking out about what this meant. He couldn't hide that he didn't hate the Dark Knight anymore. 

“We're not going to tell anyone about this,” Bruce growled, snapping the codpiece back in place. 

“Dammit,” he teased, “What am I going to do now?! I was definitely planning on telling my fiancée that I got fucked in the ass by Batman.” He rolled his eyes, pulling his pants back up. 

Bruce just stared at him with those hollow white eyes. Jack felt himself falling in love with them all over again. 

“A quick fight and fuck to get us back on track?” Jack teased, running his fingers through his hair in a makeshift comb.

“We're not doing this again,” Bruce said firmly. 

“Of course not, darling. But tell me, did you like it? Even a little bit?” he leaned in close, so close their mouths were almost touching.

“No,” Bruce said, clearly lying through his teeth. Jack let him get away with it for once.

The next day, Harley commented on the bite mark and the bruises. He lied and said that he had no clue where they were from. She clearly knew but didn't say anything else after that, so he didn't worry too much about it. 

He was mostly just trying to figure out how to get Bruce to do it again. 

Chapter Text

The cattle prod in Bruce's hand hummed with electricity. 

Joker had insisted on this when Bruce brought up the idea of a little punishment play in the bedroom for once. It was too close to the anniversary of Jason's death for him to fuck Joker without wanting to stra gle him. Maybe making him suffer a little during sex would make that feeling go away. 

“C'mon. Baby. Don't tell me you're too pussy to put the big bad clown in his place!”

They had been chasing each other around Joker's bedroom for ten minutes already. The foreplay was really starting to get to both of them. The button on Joker's dress pants looked about ready to snap. 

In response to Joker’s poor attempt to rile him up, he shoved the crackling cattle prod to Joker's thigh for three seconds, counting down in his head. 

And of course, since they can never be normal, Joker moans. 

Bruce pulls it away after those three seconds were up, giving the delirious Joker a moment to recover, before shoving it on his stomach this time.

Now he counts down from five. Joker's eyes roll to the back of his head and he moans again, this time so loud. Bruce is sure it can be heard through the paper thin walls. 

“Love,” Joker begs, hips snapping forward as if to grind on air, “Now, please”

“What if I'm not done with you yet?” Bruce hisses, cattle prod connecting with Joker's stomach again. He holds it there for two seconds then pulls away. 

Joker whimpers at the implication. Bruce could keep him here all night if he wanted to. Joker would never leave if Bruce wanted him to stay. 

Joker doesn't open his mouth to speak again after that. Just lets out these little noises behind his closed lips. 

“Good job,” Bruce says, because he doesn't quite have the confidence to call Joker “good boy”.

Joker whimpers again, a pathetic, begging sound. Bruce feels like he's getting drunk on it. 

He shocks Joker in the stomach again, six seconds this time. 

When he sees the look of pure ecstasy on Joker’s face, he knows that he’s gonna have to start fucking him now before it’s too late. He unclipped the codpiece (listening to Joker’s hum as he hears his favorite sound in the world) and tugged Joker's pants down, revealing Batman print boxers. 

“They were on sale,” Joker lies with a shrug and a laugh. 

Bruce looks at him incredulously, eyes almost rolling as he pulled the ridiculous boxers off. 

He knew that Joker loved seeing him between his legs, looking up at him as he sucked.

So he did just that, letting his eyes go slightly glassy just to see Joker's breathless face. Joker came in his mouth mere seconds later.

“That was quick,” Bruce joked, wiping his mouth, “you got somewhere to be, sweetheart?” 

He couldn't help but notice Joker lite swallow when Bruce called him sweetheart and decided not to comment on it, “No. I just really love you” 

Bruce laughed, “That's not really a reason, baby” 

Another swallow, “I just…” 

“Mhmm,” Bruce said softly, crowding up in Joker's space, “Tell me,” 

“I was really looking forward to seeing you,” Joker said pathetically.

Bruce wasn't sure that it was the full reason, but he let Joker get away with it. Just for tonight.

“Better,” he said, flicking Joker on the cheek, "We'll have to work on your manners later though?” 

Joker laughed, “Punish me again, Daddy?”

Bruce just shoved him away.

Chapter Text

He was stuck on the bridge while Joker carried a detonator to contaminate the entire water supply for the whole city. He was tied up with the kids only a little bit away.

And yet Joker was climbing into his lap, grinding down on Bruce’s hips. 

“I love seeing you like this, darling” Joker said, licking a stripe up Bruce’s cheek, detonator still in hand, “Completely at my mercy. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you”

His face was flopping horridly against the exposed muscle of his cheeks and jaw. Bruce felt repulsed by it. And somehow also intrigued. He wondered just how infected the layers of flesh were at this point. 

“Mmm,” Joker hummed, throat bobbing, “How sure are you that your birdboys are watching?” 

“I-” he didn’t get to say anymore because Joker had ripped off the codpiece, grinding down exactly on Bruce’s crotch. 

“Why don’t you tell them to go home? I’m not going to do anything more than this.” Joker mumbled in his ear, rotting skin almost too close to Bruce’s. He didn’t want it any closer. 

Then he slipped off of Bruce’s lap and in between his legs. He pulled down the undersuit with greedy fingers. Bruce couldn’t see his eyes, but he knew from experience that if he could, the green would have darkened, blown wide and hungry. 

His head was spinning. He didn't want this, not here, not like this. He had always expected that their reunion would be this mind blowing night where Bruce was both rough and gentle in the same breath. He'd kiss over bites he had put there as if to drive Joker crazy. He'd be so rough with him that his hipbones would splinter and Arkham wouldn't know what to do with him. 

He hadn't ever wanted it like this. 

“Call them off,” Joker said, licking a line up from base to tip. 

Bruce bit back a groan. Nope, he wasn't going to let this man break his resolve.

“Call them off,” Joker repeated, “I don’t want them interrupting our fun, darling. Call. Them. Off”

“Can’t,” he choked out, “The messaging system is in the gauntlets,” 

“Well isn’t that a shame….” Joker said, continuing his peppering of kisses. 

And then he took Bruce all the way down to the base. 

Bruce repressed another groan. They couldn't be loud, not like this. Somebody would hear. He had the GCPD on standby. 

Joker giggled around his cock, sending vibrations through Bruce's spine. He forgot about Joker's lack of a gag reflex. It had freaked him out the first time, but since then he's gotten used to it. Partly because he'd seen Joker eat playing cards whole before with no complaints. Why he did it was still a mystery. 

He muttered a “fuck” under his breath. He knew he was getting close. And he knew that Joker wasn't gonna let him get off that easy. In either form of the expression. 

Joker pulled off, causing Bruce to hiss through his teeth with frustration, “Call them off.” 

“I can't” 

“You have a fancy comms system in that silly little hat of yours. Call them off.” he clicked the head of Bruce's cock as if forcing him to remember what the reward was for him. 

So Bruce obeyed, sending a strained message to Dick about all of them, GCPD included, to head home.

“Are you sure?” 

Bruce looked down at the expectant Joker between his legs, “Yes,” he choked out.

The second the call ended, Joker dived right back in. 

This time he almost screamed. He hated having to play the waiting game with Joker because it always ended in disaster. 

This waiting game was torture. And that was half the fun. 

Again, when Bruce felt like he was about to come, Joker pulled off.

“Do you want more, sweetheart?” He says, strangely sugary sweet. 

Bruce nods, teeth gritted so tight he swore they were going to splinter. 

“Well then…” 

Joker hops back up into his lap again, straddling him, that grotesque face right next to his again. 

“Here we go…” 

He shucked his pants off, half almost ripping even though it seemed like he wanted to pull them down sensually. He pushed down on Bruce’s dick, eyes going wide. He was already wet and loose and open. Had he been planning this along with the bridge stunt? 

“Oooh, I forgot how good that was. Why did I ever leave you, darling?” Joker said before letting out a loud moan as he bounced up and down. 

Neither of them lasted long, coming in sync with each other. Joker screeched while Bruce groaned low in his throat. 

When Joker stood back up, Bruce could see the cum already leaking down his thighs, almost blending in with his skin. 

“I love you so much, darling.”

Bruce just grit his teeth and prayed that Joker would let him go soon. 

He didn’t want to ever see him again. He was too pissed that Joker had been gone for a whole year and then just randomly showed up with a fresh bloody face mask just to blow Bruce. 

And yet he wanted more.

“Joker?” he asked, despite hating himself for it.

“Yes, love?” 

“Are you planning on doing this again sometime soon?”

Chapter Text

Joker hated crawling to Bats for help. But right now it didn’t seem like he had any other choice. One of his stupid fucking goons had shot him in the side. And for no good reason! He hadn’t even done anything this time! He’d just been doing a little performance review. Which maybe involved a few choice words, but nobody had ever decided to shoot him before! 

Blood was staining the pale white snow at his feet. Oh wait, that was right. It was Christmas Eve.

Bruce was probably with the birdies. He probably wasn’t even thinking about Joker, even though every one of Joker’s waking (and non-waking) thoughts were all about him. He was probably having the holiday he deserved with people that weren’t horridly obsessed with him. 

He almost choked on the bile that shoved its way out of his throat. He threw up, marring the snow even more. 

He was starting to go dizzy too. Never a good sign. 

He was almost at the back entrance to Wayne Enterprises when he collapsed on the cold concrete sidewalk. He couldn’t pull himself forward anymore. 

He was going to die here. He was going to die a sad miserable death out freezing in the snow because he didn’t calm himself down for thirty seconds.

Or maybe because he never seemed to be able to hire competent goons. Either option worked at this point.

And that’s when he saw it, the faint golden hum of a light.

“Joker?” Bruce asked, voice strained, “What are you-?” 

Clearly he had spotted the blood.

“Hey, Bats.” Joker said, before everything started to go dark.

“No, no, no, no. You’re not going to sleep, not now” Bats said, pulling Joker up and helping him support his own weight.

“But sleep sounds so good.”

Bats firmly pinched him, “You go to sleep, you die” 

Joker giggled, “Well that’s unfortunate. We couldn’t have my ending being this lame, could we?” 

“Come on,” Bats said, pulling him closer, “Lets get you to the med bay”

“Okay then” Joker said, slightly happier since Bats was here. Was he in costume? Joker couldn’t tell. That sucked. He didn’t want to know who Bats was under the mask just yet.

Well, not officially yet. 

Bats gave him an IV that he wasn’t allowed to take out despite his major fear of needles. Bats luckily knew this and held his hand the whole time to keep him from panicking. He got his side patched up and everything. Plus! Bats gave him a little kiss afterwards!

Joker guessed that it was for his good behavior. 

He leaned into the small amount of cuddle the Bat was handing out for free, breathing in the smell of cologne rather than Kevlar. 

“Do you care about me?” Joker asked, still curled up on Bats' side, probably high with how many painkillers he had to take. 

“Of course,” Bats lied through his teeth, kissing Joker’s hair.

“I care about you,” Joker said, ignoring the obvious lie, “I don’t know what I’d do without you”

Bats laughed softly, kissing Joker’s temple this time.

“Me neither”

And Joker wasn’t entirely sure that it was a lie.

Chapter Text

Bruce’s head was spinning. He didn’t know what to do. 

His date night with Joker had been planned for weeks, but he’d been weird ever since he kidnapped a good chunk of the rogue’s gallery and forced them to choose whether they wanted to save Gotham or blow it up. Bruce hadn’t quite approved of it when he first heard about it, but it was over now and Gotham was safe and Joker was safe so he didn’t mind very much. 

“Baby” Joker said when Bruce answered the face-time request, “Can you fuck me tonight?”

Bruce felt stunned at the strange question, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Joker responded, eyes still hollow, “Just do it.”

“That doesn’t ease my nerves, J.” Bruce said, eyes glazing over Joker’s gaunt face. He hadn’t eaten since the Arkham thing. Bruce kept wondering why. 

Thirty minutes later, half an hour before Joker was supposed to get there, Harley called him. She never did that. Something must be wrong. 

“He lied,” She said, voice shaking, “I just thought that you should know”

Bruce felt confused, listening to her basically have a panic attack over the phone, “Harley what’s wrong?” 

“The whole Saturday night in July thing.” she said, and suddenly it clicked for Bruce exactly what she was talking about, “It was all a lie. He lied to gain our trust. He was never abused. He told me in Arkham a few days ago.”

Bruce wanted to drop the phone. Joker had told him what he thought was everything. That his name had been Jack and that his mom used to hurt him to feel something again since cutting herself didn’t work anymore. He apparently still had scars from her. He knew that they were there, just not which ones. 

And he distinctly remembered watching Joker tear up as he told Bruce about how she smiled while she hurt him. How she sang as he wanted to die because of how bad she’d fucked him up. 

And he thought that it was all real.

“I broke up with him,” Harley said, voice static over the phone, “He’s just your problem now.” 

Bruce had known that Joker was still with Harley, that after he had spent the whole night telling Bruce just how much he loved him, he went home to pound Harley into the mattress. He knew that his love was divided. He knew that he had never been Joker’s real romantic priority. Sure, he was obsessed with Batman, but how could Bruce Wayne compare to that? Joker was in love with the idea of a creature beating him black and blue.

Not Bruce. Never Bruce. 

He felt disassociated when Joker showed up, who looked just as out of it as Bruce. Maybe he knew that Bruce knew. 

They ate in silence, even though they usually talked each other’s ears off at this point, sharing stories of their day and making silly lovesick faces at each other all night. 

Now it was like somebody had forced a bulletproof glass sheet in between them. 

Joker tugged on Bruce’s sleeve when Bruce was cleaning up their dinner mess, “Can you fuck me tonight? Please? I really need it” 

Bruce knew that this was probably his last opportunity. He had been planning to break things off ever since Harley called him. Harley and him had an understanding. They would both get to love J. and try to be friends. Bruce had really grown to enjoy her company. She wouldn’t lie to him, especially not about Joker.

Plus she had never been that great of an actor. 

So Bruce let Joker lead him to the master bedroom of the penthouse. He watched silently as Joker stripped with a severe lack of performance like usual. They were both saying goodbye and they knew it. 

Joker laid back on the sheets, skin bright against the black silk, legs spread and arms stretched up wide as if asking Bruce to pin them to the bed. 

He didn’t. He crawled on top of him, pressing kisses to a snow white throat as slow as he could. 

He felt the drip of Joker’s tears reach his hair as his hands started lazily tracing Joker’s sides. He ran his fingers over skin he already had memorized, just to feel those jutting ribs one last time before he ruined it all. 

Joker was tight as hell when Bruce lightly inserted his lubed middle finger into Joker’s twitching rim. Joker cried even harder at the feeling. Not a physically painful crying, but painful all the same. His index followed the middle soon after, still pressing kisses to Joker’s collarbones. 

It took a few minutes for them to get ready at the slow pace they were going. Joker let out a strangled sob about five minutes into the three finger game, and Bruce knew what he wanted. He carefully removed his fingers, slipping out smoothly. 

He lined up his cock to Joker’s ass. He looked at the crying clown for permission, and Joker just stared back at him with big green wet eyes. 

He dived in just because of the love in those eyes. 

Joker sobbed again when Bruce slowly slid down all the way to the base. He looked up at Bruce, tears still in his eyes. Bruce wanted to kiss him.

He didn’t, just pulled out almost all the way and then went back in all the way.

And that’s when everything went wrong.

“Red.” Joker choked out, trying to scramble away. 

Bruce let him, pulling out even though he had been enjoying that. They had never been that emotionally connected during sex. He hadn’t ever thought of Joker as emotional before. 

Joker shoved his face in his hands, sobbing out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” over and over again. 

Bruce didn’t dare touch him. Just let Joker ride out whatever he was feeling. It didn’t work. Joker started clawing at his hair, ripping out bloody fistfulls easily. 

Malnutrition. 

“You must hate me” Joker cried, still pulling, digging nails into a bloodied scalp, “Harley does and I didn’t-” 

In a snap, Joker had straightened himself back out like he was perfectly fine. 

“I’m going home. You don’t have to contact me again, I won’t bother you now” He said, standing to dress. 

“Joker, wait-” 

But Joker was already gone, having flung himself out the window. Bruce panicked for a moment before quickly realising that Joker hadn’t actually jumped, it was just an easy way to leave. 

He tried to let himself breathe. It didn’t work so well. He hated panic attacks, especially when they came from something personal rather than Batman or work related stresses. He collapsed to the floor, hands tugging at his hair to ground himself. 

Joker wasn’t coming back. He wasn’t ever going to be coming back. He was going to fuck off to France or something and wallow in his misery until he eventually shot himself with no Batman to save him. Bruce would never see him again and pretty much the last thing Joker had said to him was a fucking safe word. 

He cried on the bathroom floor that night while the shower was running so if Alfred came to check on him, he wouldn’t hear anything. He didn’t know what to do. 

The fact that it was a lie didn’t matter that much to him. He should have known that Joker wouldn’t tell the truth about something as traumatic as that. It was that he had been so gullible to tell him real things when he knew that most of what he would say would turn out to be false. 

But he had loved him all the same and now he had lost him to the darkness. He just wanted to be able to love Joker with nothing in the way, even with the situation with Harley. 

But why had Joker wanted to blow up Gotham in the first place?

Bruce searched for hours for the security tapes from that room and watched the whole thing. He heard when Joker cheerily complimented Bruce’s body with most of the rogues in that room having no idea that he knew what it looked like up and personal. He watched them all goofily sing “Hey Ya!” by Outkast. He watched J. smile all night right up until Ivy revealed his secret. 

Then he was closed off, snapping at everyone and clawing at his hands with his fingernails. 

Bruce was going to fucking murder Pamela Isley. 

He kept the silly little trinkets that Joker had left at the penthouse, every butterfly knife and little trinket. Even the playing card that J. had left as a morning after note before he disappeared with a lipstick stain from a kiss he had pressed there on it. 

He was crying himself to sleep every night. God, where had J. gone? 

And then they found the body. 

Mistah J, Mistah J

Why you got me feelin’ that way?