So, I was on a batjokes a kick a few weeks ago and I wrote this. I never planned to upload it but I figured I might as well! This is just a one-shot, I may add more chapters and make this a series of one-shots, but I don't plan on creating a real plot. Lots of fluff in this, just because I was in the mood for that ~ Sorry if there are any errors here, feel free to let me know if you notice any! I tried my best to edit this well, but I'm only human. :) AU. Set after Arkham City.
"Homo homini lupus" - Man is a wolf to man
Bruce sits on the couch in his bedroom with another man in his lap. He'd been in love before, but this was so different. Not only because it was with a man, but because of the man it was with. He sits there with - of all people - the Joker on his lap, straddling him. Both men are wearing only their underwear. The clown has his face in his lover's neck with his arms slung loosely over the shoulders underneath him, while Bruce lays back and perches his head on the Joker's shoulder, holding him tightly just under his arms.
This could not be any more strange, Wayne thinks. He isn't Batman and right now, his partner isn't the Joker. He doesn't know what else he could call him, though. They sit in silence for almost an hour, just enjoying the feeling of each other's skin, until Bruce quietly implores, "What even is your real name?" He waits for what feels like an hour before getting a reply.
"Hm. Good question. Dunno anymore." The Joker buries his face further so that he won't be able to see anything. Bruce normally would have been bothered by paint getting on his neck, but they had bathed together earlier and washed the white, black and red off of the Joker's face.
"Come on. You couldn't have just forgotten completely." Both their voices Re just above whispers. The Joker lifts his face and starts to sit up, though Bruce wants him close.
"You'd be surprised." His eyebrows rise briefly and he looks down, then moves out of the other man's grasp and stands, looking back at Wayne. "They broke me. Arkham. The police. Everyone. The therapists, god. You know, when you've done the things I have, people don't try to bring you back to who you were. They just try to make you who they want you to be." Bruce doesn't know how to reply. He knows it's all true. All those treatments at Arkham... Especially when Strange was basically in control of the place. The criminal walks over to Bruce's king-sized bed and sits on the edge of it, looking at the marble floor. After his hero doesn't say anything for too long, Joker says, "Come to bed. It's late."
Bruce reluctantly leaves the couch and walks slowly to the back of the room where the bed is. "So what should I call you, then? I can't keep calling you Joker since we..." He trails off, not knowing how to label what is going on between them.
"Since we fucked? You don't have to call me anything," he answers, solemnly joking. "I'm not reformed. Hell, you know I'll probably go do some dumb shit later. Maybe I'll rob a bank or two, kill a few people," his voice gets a little lower as he says, "I'm still the Joker. You can still call me that. I'm still evil."
"Later?" Bruce is distraught at the notion that this has to end. He doesn't know what later means; when is this going to be over? He lays on the bed next to the Joker and turns on his side to be able to look at his lover. Wayne lets his fingers roam over the other man's cheek, feeling all the bumps and ridges from the wicked scars that were never healed. Bruce wants him to be a better person for the sake of them, but he knows that can never happen. Besides, Bruce Wayne dating the Joker? With that in the newspapers, his secret would be out in seconds. Their relationship could never work...
"Yeah. Later. As in, when I manage to get out of here." His tone doesn't give away any hint as to how he feels about that. Bruce doesn't know how to reply, because he's terrified of how it sounds like the Joker wants, desperately wants to leave. He doesn't want this to end. He doesn't want to go back to being the hero fighting the criminal. After finally finding someone he loved who hadn't been killed, - evidently, by this new lover - he didn't want to let go again. I'm a wreck, he thought, it's not like anyone could stay with me for long.
Suddenly, the Joker laughs, and it's an odd sound. He doesn't laugh the way he usually does, the way he does when he's killing or telling jokes or just plain messing with Batman. His laugh is lower, just a chuckle, as opposed to the furious fits he gets into when he's truly enjoying himself. "Bruce fucking Wayne," the clown said, "Who would've thought? God, I'm glad, though. I'm so damn happy that the Batman ended up being someone so... Hot." Bruce blushed slightly at the Joker's compliment. "You know how long I've wanted to get in your tight black pants?" The criminal asked as he turned towards Wayne and began trailing his fingertips gently down his partner's stomach, finding the hem of the boxer briefs that awaited him.
Bruce leaned into the Joker's neck and whispered in a low voice, "How long?"
"You remember that fire at Blackgate, the one that made them move me back down to Arkham?" The clown asked as his hand moved down to grasp Bruce's growing erection and he turned to look into his eyes. "It was a week or two before that." He leaned forward to make their lips meet as Bruce's eyebrows knitted together. The kiss was short and sweet, and when the Joker pulled away he chuckled and said, "Wait, no. I think it was right after you found out it was me trying to have you killed. You know, when we met, I was so intrigued and somehow vaguely frightened by you. But it was such a fucking turn on," and suddenly he moves so that he is straddling Bruce again and he grinds their hips together, being met with similar enthusiasm.
As much as Bruce is turned on by the man on top of him, he's reluctant. "Listen, I don't wanna fuck tonight. I'm exhausted, and I just wanna talk for a while."
The clown smiles. Not his usual devious smile, but a genuinely happy one. "Good, 'cause I'm tired too. This is as much as I'm in the mood for tonight, baby." The Joker moves to lay back down as he drapes one leg over Bruce's and sets his head and arm on top of the billionaire's chest. "What is it you wanna talk about?"
Bruce sighs, deciding to just press the issue because it's a big deal to him. "What exactly is going to happen when you leave, and when are you leaving?" There's a long silence and the growing tension could be cut with a knife. Suddenly, Wayne feels a bit of wetness on his chest and he looks down to see the Joker, red-eyed, sniffle. He lifts the clown's head to make eye contact, and the look in his eyes is questioning.
"God, I'm a fucking pussy, aren't I?" The Joker chuckled weakly. "I hadn't thought about leaving. I mean..." There's another long pause before he says in the quietest voice possible, "I just don't want to leave."
Bruce pulls the man into a warm embrace and tangles his fingers into the hair that's faded a bit from green to blonde. "Then don't," Bruce whispers into the other man's ear, then kisses the same ear in several different spots.
"Shut up. Don't be stupid."
"No, really." Wayne takes a leap of faith, whispering just barely audibly, "I'm serious. Please, please don't fucking leave." Somehow, they're both silently shedding gentle tears.
"You know..." The Joker pauses to sniffle, his voice faltering. "You know I can't stay here. You know nothing ever works between us."
"I don't care. I really don't. I..." Bruce isn't sure whether or not he should admit his feelings, but he decides, why the hell not? "I love you," he whispers.
The clown giggles quietly. "Hell, bats, I love you too," and he giggles again, though this time it sounds like he's just plain crying.
"What's happened to us?" Bruce asks, and the Joker never answers. They hold each other tightly for a long time, just sitting in silence. Eventually, they end up spooning.
The Joker turns the lights off with the remote on the bedside table while Bruce rubs the clown's arm with a strong hand as they lay there quietly in the dark.
Perpetually in the dark.
Some time after they've both fallen asleep, Bruce awakens. He notices the Joker's breathing is still too slow for him to be awake, so he doesn't bother the man in his arms. He can't fall back asleep. Wayne doesn't want to turn around; he would hate to let go of his lover - if not for the deep love he has for him, then for the fear of him leaving during the night. So he just lays there, thinking, while he holds the Joker close.
The song 'Do I Wanna Know?' by Arctic Monkeys races through Bruce's mind. He eventually gets lost in thought, and it takes him a while to notice when the man in his arms stirs.
Bruce's attention is drawn to the Joker's quiet, frantic mumbling and shaking. He says things that Wayne wishes he never has to hear again, yet it bothers him that such troubled thoughts run through his lover's mind. He assumes that the clown is having a nightmare, so he shakes him to wake him up. The man has a hard time waking up, but when he does, he turns over immediately and looks shocked to find the man next to him. "B... Batman..."
"No, no, just Bruce... I'm not the bat. I'm just Bruce," he whispers, "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise." As the Joker visibly calms, they settle into a loose embrace, and Bruce whispers to the other man, "I love you," receiving a soft hum and kiss on the neck as an answer.