Batman had woken up in situations like this before. Without looking, he knew he was strapped to one thing or another over a bubbling dangerous vat of one thing or another, and certainly facing certain doom. It was all the same. He'd grown used to all of it. With Joker alone, he'd woken up in more situations like this one than he'd even bothered to count.
But each time, Joker managed to change it. Each time, Joker learned something new about his skills. He learned, this time, we'll go with iron chains, we won't leave the room, we won't give him time to escape. We'll watch him carefully. We'll drug him before he wakes up. Oh no no, not too much drugs, a little less next time. Each time, Joker found out another thing to use against him. Really, it was as if the clown prince of crime was practicing. As if each time they met and fought was merely a rehearsal.
This time, Batman woke up in a compromising position. Each wrist was fastened securely to it's corresponding ankle. He'd been drugged already, he would feel it with the rolling fog and fuzziness in his head. He was uncomfortable, and the surface he was on was strangely soft.
"Awake now, Sweet Cheeks? Got all your beauty sleep?" Joker paused, as though waiting for an answer. But he didn't seem to mind when he didn't get one, nor did he seem like he'd been expecting and answer in the first place. "Good, cause I don't think you'll get any more after this."
The mad man was upon him in a second, painted red lips attacking his, a jack knife held against his throat. Though Joker knew damn well that the knife wouldn't do anything in that particular spot, he liked the feeling of power if gave him. And he liked the thought of one day, slitting Batman's throat.
Joker pushed his tongue past tense lips. He didn't wait for any sounds of approval, he didn't mind that Batman wasn't participating (he'd make him join in, oh yes he would), he didn't care that the only reason Batman was still letting them kiss was due to the drugged fog still rolling through his mind.
Joker sat up again, wiping his mouth, smearing the already smeared makeup. He liked the way evidence of their lips pressing together was all over Batman's face. He liked the contrast of the red make up on the black cowl.
"We have a haven here, Batsy. No ones gonna bug us, not like last time." One finger stroked a black cheek. In truth, he was only letting up because he could see blue eyes drifting closed, unable to fight off the effects of the drugs pumping through his system (he'd learned by now it had to be more than one). "I took care of all the others."
Batman let out an incomprehensible grunt, fighting unconsciousness, but falling anyway. It sounded strangely like the word 'madman' and Joker found it amusing.
"Really Sweet Cheeks, it's just you, me, and a Jack knife."
OWARI
somewhere while watching the movie again, I got this stuck in my head. Wouldn't that be heaven for joker? A world where nothing but batman existed, just them and sharp objects. I was contemplating a second chatper. Reveiw please!