…
The interrogation room was exactly the same. Same white-washed walls stained by vomit, piss, and blood, same one-way mirror, same steel table and chair, and the same damn handcuffs he could get out of in two seconds flat if he felt like it. The fresh bruises were forming just under his suit because Gotham's finest simply loved his jokes and weren't afraid to show him just how much.
Batsy would not be pleased.
Joker looked up as Gordon entered; mustache dusted with coffee stains and face so haggard it looked like he hadn't slept in years. His alpha was musk more prominent from his lack of daily showering. He carried nothing in thick, calloused hands, clothes slightly rumpled, and eyes filled with a cold loathing that would've made anyone else shiver. Joker's grin stretched far beyond its plump, ruby red limits and just before he opened his mouth to ask the time, he felt something comparable to a lick of electricity wrack his frame.
"Where are the children?" The commissioner began, standing in front of the table, eyes narrowed beyond the glint of his glasses. Joker blinked. The bolt of electricity shot through him again, making his muscles clinch.
"What's the date?" He all but growled it, cutting off the other man's questioning. Gordon raised his eyebrows, something close to wariness coming across his face. The clown couldn't blame him; he did blow up his precinct not too long ago and kill several of his men in the process.
"It's May 6th," Gordon eventually responded, budding uneasiness hidden under the mask of careful calm. The Joker flushed under the stark white greasepaint caked to his cheeks, mouth parting slightly, and newly un-cuffed wrists coming to rest on his lap. No, this could not happen here. It wouldn't.
"Look Gordie, can I call ya Gordie?" He licked his lips hastily tasting the copper tang of blood, green orbs darting around the concrete cage. "I'll save ya the trouble. I didn't take those kids. Really, I was snoozing away at the time, ask anybody. Really, I don't even like the kiddies. I'm not that kinda clown." He restrained himself to a few chuckles. "So now that that's cleared up, I'd like to go back to my cell now."
Gordon walked away, thick steel door slamming and bolting back into place behind him. The overly bright fluorescents flickered.
"Wait!" Joker called after him, feeling something close to panic. "Leaving so soon? I thought we were just getting started." His chuckle sounded more like a startled wheeze as another jolt passed through him, something fluid and warm pooling unpleasantly pleasant in his stomach. He shivered as he sensed his mate's presence, black and ominous. His head hit the table.
Batman was not happy to be called from Wayne Manor at 3 a.m. because the Joker broke into an orphanage and stole a dozen children.
"Honestly, Batman," The clown began, rubbing a hand over his face and further smearing the paint. "Never start with the head. Don't you ever listen?"
A fist collided with his jaw. He giggled weakly and spat blood on the shiny tabletop, head spinning with masochistic glee.
"Where are the kids Joker," Batman growled out, slamming his hands on the table. The clown bit back a whimper at the commanding tone, every cell in his body screaming at him, an ache in his groin. His Bat was clearly not amused.
"I didn't take any kids Bats." He sounded disgusted at the notion. "So unoriginal." Batman grunted angrily, hoisting up Joker by the purple lapels and shoving him into the one-way glass with a satisfying crack.
"Where are the kids Joker?" His nostrils flared, eyes turning to livid slits. Joker could feel his erection swell, need pouring into his veins along with impatience. Didn't the black brute ever listen?
"I didn't take the bastards," Joker spat, tone serious and deadly.
His head hit the wall again and he whimpered, arching shamelessly into the vigilante. His cock was already hard and aching against his thigh and his skin was becoming too tight and sensitive, unrelenting and hot. He needed to get these fucking clothes off now. Batman clasped his hand around the criminal's throat, cutting off his air supply.
"I…Bats…," he choked desperately, scratching at the bat-symbol adorning the Dark Knight's chest like a homicidal kitten. He was beginning to smell of pure sex and the vigilante unconsciously nuzzled into it, inhaling the musk. Batman released his hold and watched the Joker's Adams apple bob as he gulped in deep breaths. Quickly, everything began to click and the bat chuckled, offering the clown a lewd smile.
"Is puppy going into heat?" The question was growled lowly in his ear and the clown shuddered, grinding himself against the armor, panting and moaning the vigilante's name. "Answer me," The Bat demanded, hands halting the hips in a death grip, hard enough to bruise.
"I…yes," Came the breathless reply as the Joker tried to wriggle free. The face paint was smearing from sweat, revealing pink skin underneath and the eternal smile. "Normally I can, ah, ignore it but you—"
He broke off into a moan as the caped crusader nipped at his neck, hips desperately seeking more friction. Batman didn't lessen his hold, lapping his tongue soothingly over the bite.
"But I'm your mate," The vigilante concluded, smirk appearing despite his best efforts as he began unbuttoning the Joker's shirt. "And suppressing it for so long only makes it worse."
He peeled off his mate's purple vest then his own black gloves and let them fall to the floor almost casually; knowing omegas craved skin on skin. He stroked the Joker's chest with one hand and held the madman's lean hip in the other, making it clear that he still wasn't to move.
"Batsy please." He was babbling incoherently now, panting out the words as fingers came to stroke his nipples. "I need it, please, you always make it hurt so good. I…shit."
"You want me to fuck you?" His fingers moved to stroke the green mop of hair almost lovingly. "You want me to take you right here in front of all these witnesses so they can see how much of a slut you are. Is that it?" he cooed. "Do you want my cock inside of you?"
"Bats stop toying with me," The clown growled, practically shaking. "Need your cock…ahh …wanna be your slut…"
Batman chuckled darkly at the madman's pleas, feeling empowered at having chaos embodied and so compliant under his fingertips. The feeling however quickly morphed into an angry snarl as the Joker moved a hand down to touch himself through his pants. The vigilante pinned the man's wrists to the cool, smooth mirror and glared.
"Don't move."
"But Bats," Joker whined, tongue darting out to lick his swollen lips.
He was silenced by a brutal kiss, the vigilante's tongue invading the moist cavern of his mouth and rutting up against the scar tissue lining his cheeks. The Joker easily submitted to the wet clashing of lips, wriggling all the while.
"I know what you need, and as much as you want me to, I will not fuck you against the wall. You need to learn how to control yourself."
"How about the table then?" Joker leered, grin stretched impossibly wide. "You know you want to Bat. Unless you'd rather let someone else…"
"Is this what you do?" Batman spat, finally stroking the clown roughly through his pants. "Do you spread your legs like some whore for anyone that touches your cock?"
Joker shook his head frantically and moaned, hissing out, "N-no only for you. I swear."
"And why is that?" The vigilante continued his rough stokes, unzipping the Joker's pants and reaching his hand into the silk boxers, firmly bobbing up and down the member.
"Because…" His eyes closed as he leaned against the wall. He was so fucking close. "Because I'm…yours." His voice cracked and he nearly choked on a sob. "Nobody…can make me…ah…cum like you can." So close. A thumb brushed over the tip of his cock and he let out a blissful purr.
"Good boy," the Bat growled, sinking his teeth into the Joker's neck and quickening his strokes.
"Now cum for me."
The joker obeyed, lips parting, toes curling, screaming the Bat's name as he released spurt after spurt of cum into his pants.
Batman could only imagine the officers' faces at the moment and was extremely aware of his own arousal straining against the crotch plate, every plea and whimper from his lover traveling straight to his own erection.
Just when he was seriously debating taking the clown then and there, the steel door opened and he growled putting himself protectively in front of the clown.
"Mr. Batman?" The young beat cop was visibly sweating, eyes darting between the half-naked criminal and the bat. Bruce could only imagine the purposefully garish smile the Joker was shooting in the rookie's direction. His name plate read Henderson.
"What?" He growled, releasing his hold on the Joker but keeping a close eye in case he tried something.
"Jonathan Crane has escaped Arkham, Commissioner wanted me to inform you," he said almost too quickly for the costumed rodent to make sense of it before disappearing through the door. Joker heard his mate swear before turning to him, re-buttoning his shirt and frowning at the fresh bruises marring the delectable flesh.
"Who's been touching you?" he hissed, poking at the black and purple splotches. Joker recoiled from his hand. He shrugged and his alpha sighed, leaning down and pressing his lips to the contusions before fixing his lover's shirt.
"You can't leave me like this!" Joker looked a strange combination of disbelievingly pissed and pleading. His swollen lips were parted, clothes invitingly askew. He nuzzled into the vigilante's neck. "Don't go."
Batman could not be serious, could he?
The bastard.
"I'll be back," Batman assured absentmindedly, wiping any of the Joker's make-up from his face. His infamous glower returned as he became serious. "Behave yourself."
"Come on Batsy," Joker grinned. "I'm your good boy remember?" The grease paint was smeared, clothes wrinkled, bloodied grin ever present on that scarred mouth. He looked like a child's worst nightmare.
The so-called hero straightened himself to his full height, posture foreboding and dangerous.
"Behave."
He turned and strode from the room, discarded gloves long forgotten. He had more in the Tumbler anyway. Walking toward the viewing room, he wrenched the door open and stalked up to Gordon, ignoring the cops gawking openly at him.
"You really think he's going to behave?" Gordon asked by way of greeting, cocking an eyebrow disbelievingly. He looked tired, worn face dotted with crow's feet around the eyes and creases in his forehead.
"Hell no," The costumed man admitted, sounding the closest Gordon's heard to sheepish. "But he shouldn't break out. He knows what'll happen if he does." The commissioner raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. "I want you to make sure that no one tries to take advantage of him in his…state."
"Your mate is a murdering sociopath who blew up this very precinct and killed quite a few people. Do you really think anyone is going to mess with him?" The undertones of annoyance were well put in place and the two alphas regarded each other before seemingly reaching an impasse.
"Yes, I do. Despite what he's done, he'll still be a horny omega in a cell filled with Alphas. I'm going to bring Crane back to Arkham and if he has one scratch from the other criminals or your boys when I come back it won't be pleasant."
"What about the children?"
"He didn't take them."
"How can you be sure?" The commissioner raked a hand through his graying hair, tiredness rolling over him like a wave.
"He really does hate kids. Why do you think he hates going into heat so much?"
Batman turned and left the room before he got a reply, his black cape billowing like an ominous wave behind him. He had a criminal to catch after all.
…
A/N: Basically wrote this around two years ago when I was literally just getting into fanfic. Trolling through my old computer when I found this little piece and realized I didn't publish it. So here it is. A pointless, smutty one-shot in one of my favorite fandoms from two years back. Reviews are like love. Essential to life :)