A/N: This chapter contains some mature subject matter. And plenty of ridiculousness. But you knew that. And compared to the Livejournal fics, this is nothing. There probably could have been more leading up to this to establish…whatever. i'm not looking to make this fic a 20 chapter affair…plot really isn't the driving factor here.

Closer: Nine Inch Nails

By mid morning there were twelve missed calls on Bruce Wayne's cell phone. In the end he had to call the secretary that he was sleeping with and beg her to smooth things over. Which she did. She always did. He just didn't like begging but she always made him do it she always enjoyed making him do it and he did. Sacrificed his dignity for the sake of convenience. By mid morning he was sitting in his bedroom in front of the fire eating a bowl of Lucky Charms while the Joker was sprawled across the sofa picking the gravel out of the scrapes on his arms and they were talking. He was sitting there high as a kite off of Tylox eating Lucky Charms and talking to the Joker and talking to the man who was tearing down the city that he slaved to protect who had taken so much from him. But Wayne couldn't stay away. He couldn't.

He was just looking for answers but the Joker didn't seem to have any.

Can you at least tell me who you are? Wayne asked. The Joker laughed and the handcuffs clinked against each other metallic and a drop of blood appeared at his wrist.

That's nothing interesting.

It's not? Wayne handed the Joker a paper towel. The Joker pressed it against the wound on his wrist and the red soaked in.

Nope. It's everything after that. The sunlight was slatting in through the shades and across the floors. One of the lines ran up the sofa and cut across the Joker's cheek illuminating the red and the blood clinging there to the scars. Underneath the paint there were shadows under his eyes and his skin was pale. Underneath the paint he looked very young.

Do you want some cereal, Wayne asked him. The Joker shook his head. Do you want anything. Wayne asked. Persisting. i can get whatever you want. The Joker shook his head again.

i'm fine. There was a faint tremble starting in his hands but Wayne could only see it when he wasn't moving.

No you're not. You haven't eaten in days. That's why you're shaking.

i know, the Joker said wearily. Why the hell do you care.

i couldn't tell you, Wayne replied.

Why do you care what happens to me. The Joker looked at Wayne. He'd painted his face again and his fingers were covered in white and black streaks. Wayne wasn't sure just how he'd managed to do it with the handcuffs on.

What's the point of doing that, Wayne asked. i already know what you look like. The Joker shrugged.

i was bored. There were bruises and pinpricks covering his forearms. This is a nice ashtray, The Joker said, pointing to the crystal ashtray on the coffee table.

Thanks. The sun shone through it and cast speckles of light across the bedroom. It was beautiful.

Why do you have it. The Joker pulled a perfectly rolled joint from his trench coat. i already know what you look like i already know.

i bang a lot of models, Wayne explained. Most of them like to smoke after sex.

Really. What's that like.

What?

Banging lots of models. The Joker put the joint up to his mouth and took a lighter from his pocket.

It's all right. i get laid twice a week on average. It depends.

Yeah, by strung out little anorexic bitches who'll suck your dick for a fifth of Regalia Gold and ride home in a private jet…He took a long pull off the joint and it crackled like a popping coal.

Exactly. What's wrong with that.

Nothing's wrong with that, Bruce Wayne. i'm sure it's fun. i just think it's funny that as far as getting tail is concerned, the only difference between you and me is that i pay my whores five hundred an hour and you pay your whores in a night on the town. Wayne shrugged.

i guess you're right. And you know what? It's worth it. The Joker smiled.

i'm not denying that. You wanna hit this? Wayne shook his head.

That's not really my thing.

It should be, the Joker said. It would probably do you a lot of good. He breathed out and puffed a perfectly round ball of smoke into the air. Wayne felt his hands clench into fists there was a small eye of anger growing somewhere down deep and he didn't know why. The Joker always did that to him and he didn't know why.

You're a wreck, you know that? Wayne's voice rose a little bit but he wasn't shouting. You're just an overgrown street punk with no cause and no direction

i need direction, the Joker mumbled, blowing out a perfect smoke ring. It drifted back and into the light and broke apart.

-and everything is just a sick, weird joke to you. Life is just a joke to you.

Bingo. Now you're catching on.

Well it's not to me, Wayne said. All i'm trying to do is help people. These people. i just wanted to show them that someone cares. That i would fight on their side. But ever since i started this whole Protector-of-Gotham charade everything has gone from bad to worse to hell on fucking earth.

Please, the Joker sighed, you've been off your game ever since i torched your little oh-so-unavailable girlfriend

Shut up. Wayne put the cereal bowl on the table.

The one you were bird-dogging for a while…what was her name again? Wayne stood up and swung and clocked the Joker so hard that his head snapped back and he fell off the couch. Wayne hauled him up by his collar and held him there they were doing it again with the Joker taunting him and he was blinded by rage throwing punches but he couldn't stop.

She was mine, he growled. And you. You single-handedly ruined any chance i had at a normal life with her-

A normal life. The Joker chuckled. Oh believe me, you gave up that chance a long time ago. Around the same time you started creeping around Gotham's rooftops dressed like a flying mammal- Wayne pressed his thumbs down on the Joker's throat.

She was mine, you ratfuck piece of shit. He pressed down hard breaking the tiny blood vessels that would form bruises in the shape of his fingers. She was all i had, she was all that i had

Christ…the Joker looked at Wayne serenely looked at him choking as Wayne's hands closed around his throat and he looked bored. You think that she could've saved you? he asked softly. The Joker couldn't feel the pain couldn't feel Wayne's hands crushing his trachea he was numb and stupid from the morphine he couldn't feel it.

Yeah, just like that, the Joker gasped, picking at his belt buckle.

Knock it off, you sick fuck. Wayne held the Joker at arm's length and slammed him up against the wall choking numbed and stupid from the morphine in his veins.

Look at me and tell me that you don't want me, the Joker said. Tell me that, and i'll stop. Wayne bit his lip. Look at me, the Joker ordered. Wayne looked at him against the wall with blood streaming from his lip. Wayne looked and he couldn't hide the want in his eyes couldn't hide the truth.

And then the Joker was kissing him and he was standing there kissing him completely undone, high as a kite holding the Joker's wrists

holding him there.

God. Wayne's heart was pounding up in his throat. Is this happening-not happening? He asked. i can't even...

Relax, the Joker mumbled. You're so high strung. His face was buried in Wayne's neck Wayne felt the paint smearing across his skin. And it must have startled something up because after a moment Wayne couldn't take it anymore and he had dragged the Joker to the floor and started pulling his clothes off pinned him to the floor by the handcuffs and pulled his clothes off. He wound the Joker's hair in his fingers and tugged hard until the Joker's head arched back and he closed his eyes he bit down on the Joker's skin and left bruises on his shoulders and the Joker smiled and took it. The smell of sweat and blood and gunpowder dripped off of him it snaked down between them and it surrounded them and they were both numb. Wayne took the key from his pocket and reached for the handcuffs.

No, the Joker said, leave them on.

Fine, whatever gets you off-

Shut up and tell me what you want me to do, the Joker growled, tugging at Wayne's belt. So Wayne told him.

The skinny little girls that he brought home. They fucked him like they were fucking a couch fucking another bottle of Crown Royal but they never wanted him. The Joker fucked like an animal. He fucked like a god. Like he wanted it more than anything else. And the Joker of all people turned out to be a very good listener. He took direction. He took everything Wayne had and threw it right back at him threw it back into his face knelt there in front of him and begged. He begged like a dog.

Hit me, he kept saying. It's okay. Hit me.

So Wayne did. But he didn't hit that hard, not nearly as hard as the Joker wanted him to. He could have but he didn't and he could have hit the Joker harder but he didn't want to hurt him. He didn't want to.

A/N: Sorry if you don't like slash. You're in the minority. But you probably should have read the title of this fanfic and seen it coming. Because that's what fanfics are for, peoples. Fantasizing about fine-ass motherfuckers getting it on. Pleeease don't take it seriously. To those of you who enjoy this shit, i apologize for the lack of explicitness...censorship is bullshit. Use yer imagination.