Warnings: Extremely disturbing, Joker-style -- and of course SPOILERS SPOILERS MON DIEU SPOILERS! You have been warned.
Disclaimer: I’d be smiling if I did.
Summary: Sharing is caring…it can be fun.
Garish, blinding laughter rang out as Bruce’s black-clad fist collided again and again with the Joker’s chalky face.
“TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!” He boomed, his voice crashing into the white walls of the interrogation room, a raging storm of fear.
The Joker rolled his head slowly along the tiled, red-streaked wall to grin up at the masked man above.
“Hit me again, bat boy.” His jagged laughter bubbled up from the long rip of his mouth. “You’ll have to try harder than that to realize I don’t bleed like other men – in fact,” his eyes slipped closed and he shifted his head back and forth along the wall, leaving a deepening garnet trail in its wake, “I bleed laughter, slaughter, laughter, slaugh -”
Bruce’s hand struck out, grabbing the Joker by his neck to slam him against the already cracked and bloodied two-way mirror.
“Ooohh, that’s more like it,” he gushed, cracking a wide smile to show yellowed teeth, his eyes slanting down lazily to tease Bruce’s own.
“I’m not interested in playing your games,” Bruce growled, his eyes narrowing.
The Joker’s grin widened further.
“Everyone’s interested in playing my games. And they do it so well. You especially.” He pulled his lower lip into his mouth and lifted his eyes to the blindingly white ceiling, as if wondering just how to word his next sentence. “You see Batman – I have a certain amount of talent for…attracting playmates. I could never play the games I want to play all on my own, so it’s important to me that I have the…charisma,” his eyes shot down to meet Bruce’s once more and he gave an elaborate, delighted shudder, wiggling between the wall and the massive man holding him to it, “necessary to draw charming people like yourself.”
Bruce hissed and tightened his thumb against the painted jaw.
“I enjoy giving others the chance to join in my fun.” The Joker reached up for Bruce’s face, grabbing his exposed jaw before he could jerk away. “We are alike, Batman.” He molded his expression into one of sadness. “If only you could see that through your blackened eyes.” He let go of Bruce’s jaw and reached up to smudge at the dark paint circling the masked eyes, his thumb just brushing at the right eye’s underside as Bruce jerked his head to the side.
“Mmm.” The Joker rubbed his blackened thumb under his own eye, darkening his melting paint with the Batman’s. He grinned as he felt Bruce’s hand shivering under his jaw, as he felt his fingers shudder where they were pressed to his pulse points.
“You feel that?” He was delighted, his eyes jumping with glee. “It’s racing.”
Bruce’s eyes narrowed, his hand falling away from the other man’s neck, though there was no room between them for him to escape. The Joker pressed his hand to the Batman’s solid suit, letting it go flat over the area hiding the heart. His forehead creased, his scars turned down in a frown. His eyes roved slowly up to meet Bruce’s, a smile hidden just beneath their glossy surface.
“I can’t feel yours.”
Bruce swallowed loudly, his breath coming in long, loud draws through his nose. His eyes widened and he tensed as he watched the Joker’s hand slide slowly, languidly up the chiseled façade of the batsuit. As he reached the neck, his long, searching fingers slipped beneath the mask and crept into warm flesh. Their eyes met. The Joker’s were loaded and knowing, his face twisted in a smirk. Bruce tried to pull away, but his body felt heavy, his mind ran thick with lead. The Joker’s icy fingers smoothed up Bruce’s feverish skin, finally coming to rest with thumb and index finger pressing into each side of the man’s neck. He inhaled slowly, his eyes slipping closed, his scars turning up in relish.
“Now I feel the real Batman. Dare I say he’s enjoying my little game?” One eyelid crept open to scrutinize Bruce’s face. His eyes were closed. He held his breath. The joker’s smile curled up further. “I just knew we’d be friends. And now for the final touch.” He snatched his hand from beneath Bruce’s mask, smirking as the man’s dark eyes snapped open. He straightened up – all business again - and cracked his neck with a guttural groan of pleasure. He grabbed Bruce by the back of the head, clutching at the black rubber as he leaned back to get a good look at him, his eyes playful and dark with anticipation.
“All you need is a smile!”
His crimson lips crushed Bruce’s flat ones, his tongue stabbing through to swipe his scalding mouth with vigor. He cracked a smile against flushed lips as the Batman tried to pull away with the last of his waning strength, the last of his tepid will. The Joker’s hand snaked beneath the edge of the mask to clutch at the heat of Bruce’s neck as he flipped them around to slam Bruce into the window. His other hand pressed into the mirror, leaving a faint bloody streak as it slid down ever-so-slowly. He laughed against Batman’s mouth as he felt him exhale and respond, cracking cracking cracked. As his hand reached the bottom of the mirror he flipped it around to offer the watching officers his middle finger before grabbing Bruce’s jaw and pulling his lips away with a faint laugh to roll his cheek onto Bruce’s, letting his scar press into the perfect flesh. His eyes slipped closed and his grin stretched tight. He pulled his cheek away, panting through his smile as he saw the red curve of paint gracing Batman’s own. He kissed him slowly – once, twice – licking along his swollen red lips, lazy cackles riding on his heavy breath as he reached Bruce’s other cheek and pressed his elongated smile against the scorching skin. His eyes roved up to Batman’s. He chuckled softly upon seeing them closed and let his own slip shut as he rolled his sticky cheek away from the second print he’d made. He kissed him slowly once more, his loud, drawn-out moan vulgar.
He pulled away from the Batman with victorious eyes, patting him lightly on the shoulder as he surveyed his work. Batman’s borrowed smile stretched sticky and bright from one edge of the mask to the other, especially wide and messy on and around his own lips.
“There now, don’t you look lovely.” The Joker leaned forward to pinch his cheeks, eyes leaping with glee. Bruce snapped his head to the side, tearing away from his grip, sliding down the wall in a heap, his fists tight and quaking. The Joker tilted his head to one side, shaking it slowly. He caught sight of his face in the mirror as he did.
“You stole my smile,” he drawled, stepping forward to inspect the faint pink of his lips more closely. He sighed, shook his head, and gave the mirror a raspberry kiss, licking up the bloody trail he’d left with a groan.
“Well Batman, it’s been fun.” He stepped back from the mirror and crossed his fingers, kneeling down for Bruce to see from where he lay on the floor. “Here’s hoping your girlfriend and her boyfriend didn’t kick the bucket while we were getting our jollies off!” He uncrossed his fingers and reached down to caress Batman’s cheek. Bruce made a quiet noise of defeat in the back of his throat. The Joker thumbed the unblemished skin lovingly before scraping the nail of his index finder along the right side of Bruce’s painted smile, collecting the blood with a soft moan as it came. He swept his dark finger across each of his scars, staining them bright crimson once more, then dipped it back and ran the finger slowly around the circle of his lips, sweeping the blood off the bottom lip with a lick and a groan before renewing it once more. Bruce stared up at him, eyes dead, a thin shiver wracking the length of his body. The Joker smirked down at him.
“Thanks for the quickie!”
Leaping up, he bounced across the room to wrench the chair out from under the doorknob. He threw it to the side, raised his arms to the ceiling, and smiled a great, bloody grin.
“COME AND GET ME!”