9. Intellectual Fornication
Disclaimer: Thank you ALL SO MUCH for the reviews!! I really appreciate them! So, this chapter a little—ah—very, inappropriate, but I think you Joker lovers will enjoy it…if you get my drift wink hehehehe!
"Augh! Your mother must be epicure for food!" the Joker exclaimed with a laugh.
"What? Why?" I asked, putting down my fork.
"This is incredible, Giada. Let's call her and tell her what a great cook she is!" he giggled as he threw his napkin onto the table.
"Well, considering I'm the one who cooked it, you could just tell me what a great cook I am," I responded with a grin.
"But that would be too easy. Where's the fun in that?" he asked with a grin.
"I can be fun! You said it yourself that I'm 'too much fun'," I replied, instigating him. We ate some more pasta in silence for a bit until he finally spoke again.
"Well," he said, sitting there with a slight pout on his lips, "I guess you're just going to have to prove that to me,"
"How the fuck do you expect me to prove something to you that you've already stated?!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands in the air as I took my plate into the kitchen and placed it into the dishwasher.
"Now that's the kind of fun I'm talking about," he said, letting his full lips escape into a smirk, "I mean, why else would I be here right now…with you…Giadaaa, hm?"
"You know, you tell me how much we think alike—and just because I helped you out tonight that I should join sides with you, but really, let's be honest here, Joker, why are you really here tonight? There's so much more I'm sure you could be doing right now besides having dinner with me. I mean, this could be your idea of 'fun', but I find it hard to believe that you have nothing better to do than to have a dinner date with me. What's so fun about me? What's so fun about the way I think and the way I conduct my life? You know more about me now than any other person and yet, somehow, you manage to find me still fun and interesting. I know you want me to join you, blah blah blah, but tonight—why are you here tonight? You just blew Gotham City to high hell tonight, and you end up at my door. Why?"
"Sometimes you have to find time for other kinds of fun. I'm a man on simple tastes, Giada. As you know, I like guns, and dynamite, and gasoline…but that's not all," he stated, standing up from his seat.
"You like money—Batman says you kill for money," I responded, crossing my arms.
"Money? Giada, what do you take me for? You think I'd blow up half of Gotham for a lousy million or billion? No—it's not that at all—it's about sending a message. I am an agent of chaos—things make sense when there is chaos because there's no plan involved—it's just…chaos," he explained as he motioned in the air with his hands.
"But that still doesn't explain why you came to my apartment to see me tonight after you blew up half of Gotham," I reiterated.
"How about some of that punch?" he asked with a grin, obviously ignoring my question. I just stood there, staring at him. He was unbelievable. He blows up a city and then instead of running away somewhere else, he figures it'd be more lucrative and 'fun' to come harass me half to hell instead! He could be devising his next course of action, but he says he has no plans. Dubious, but I had to take him at his word. After all, he took me at mine.
"Punch? Really?" I asked, sarcastically, "And do you want it for me, or for you?"
"Where's the fun in knowing that? How about this…how about you show me where you keep your…stash…and I'll surprise you with a little…beverage," he responded, licking his lips and tilting his head slightly. I breathed in for a moment and sighed, looking at him.
"Do you think I'm an idiot? If I let you surprise me with an alcoholic beverage, you're probably going to slip me a roofie,"
"Do I look like the kind of guy who would slip you a roofie?" he asked, incredulous.
"Yeah," I laughed, "actually, you do seem like that type of guy who would,"
"Well you're sorely mistaken, Giada, dear. We've already established that…I know you better than you know yourself. For instance…I would not slip you a roofie…one, because I am not currently in possession of said substance…and two… I don't need to…'roofie' you to get…'action' …as it were, from you," he replied calmly, using quotations with this hands for 'action'. I grinned slightly. Yeah, he was right. I would sleep with him and it wouldn't take a roofie to get me to do so. Damn it! I hate it how he knows me better than I do!
"Well I suppose your reasoning is as good as mine. And since you happen to know myself better than I do," I walked over to him and took him by the wrist and led him over to my liquor cabinet, "you have carte blanche with this cabinet. Why not have a little fun, right?" I asked, giving him a seductive look as I turned and left the kitchen.
"That's what I'm talking about now," he responded, flashing me a crooked grin. "Just get comfortable on that couch, Giada—I'll be right out with your surprise drink!" he giggled. I sat down on the couch. Oh man, what the hell was I getting myself into. I really hoped it wasn't the God-awful punch I drank the last time. That stuff was horrible. I could help but get the feeling of déjà vu as I waited for him to bring me my surprise beverage. How could he and I possibly be in the same position as last time—my living room and the couch with alcohol—it was all too familiar. Hopefully it wouldn't end the way it did last time. Hopefully he'd surprise me one way or another. Maybe he'd surprise me with a knife in my throat. Well, I guess the joke's on me then, right? At this point, it would be too late to go back. We knew far too much about one another to kill the other off—he couldn't kill me off because he was too fascinated with me and I couldn't kill him because I was infatuated with him—we were beginning to fall into a waltz of treachery.
"Your drink is ready!" the Joker exclaimed with a giggle as he appeared around the corner of the kitchen and out into the living room.
"Thank you, dear! I'm very excited to try it!" I exclaimed with a similar giggle. Jesus—I really was turning into him! He handed me the beverage—it was a deep purple-red, almost the color of blood.
"I hope you enjoy it…it's…my specialty," he responded with a grin.
"Dare I ask what's in it?" I asked, a bit skeptical.
"Well that would just take the surprise right out of it, wouldn't it?" he asked, setting his drink down on the table.
"Joker, it's a drink the color of blood. Don't you think I'm going to be a little skeptical of what's in it?" I asked, putting the glass down. He licked his lips and then tilted his head to the side.
"What's the matter, Giada? Don't you…trust me?" he asked finally. It was the creepiest thing I think he'd ever said to me—even creepier than his fake story about the scars after we first met. I figured I'd let him know.
"That was the creepiest thing you've ever said to me, Joker," I said, apparently speaking my mind freely. I can never tell if that's a good thing to do with the Joker. But he received it well.
"Well then I'll just take that and give it a little taste-test before you drink it," he said, taking the glass and taking a sip from it. I knew it wasn't poisoned. I doubt he would have drank it if it was poisoned. Well, then again, there wouldn't be much stopping him if it was poisoned. I'd be left with the body of the Joker in my apartment. Good luck explaining that to the GPD.
"See? Perfectly safe to drink," he stated. He set the glass down on the table, kicked off his shoes and took off his jacket. He then sat down next to me and wouldn't take his eyes from me until I picked up the drink. Fuck it. I took the drink in my hand and took a sip.
"This tastes like grape juice mixed with cranberry juice," I said finally, my heart no longer pounding in my chest. I felt so relieved. I took a big gulp and then another one after that. He just grinned and took small sips from his. Then, licking his lips, he spoke again.
"That's the surprise. It tastes like grape juice and fruit juice, but the surprise is what it does to you after you're done drinking it,"
"I don't even think you put any alcohol in it. You want me to think you did, but you really didn't," I replied as I finished my glass.
"Or maybe that's what I want you to believe so you would drink it quickly, thinking there's nothing in it that can get you…intoxicated, when really, there is…quite a bit," he smirked and took another small sip from his glass. His lips looked so full. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to kiss me and never stop.
"Maybe you want me to think you didn't put any in and have you tell me you did but you really didn't, so either way, we're just mind fucking each other right now," I stated.
"Isn't that the fun though? Meeting your intellectual match and being engorged in a deep penetration of the mind with which you have no control? I mean, Giada, you can't deny that your mind is spinning in a million…little…directions, but with my prodding, our minds can intellectually fornicate for as long as we let them," he replied and then licked his lips.
That's a new term—intellectually fornicate. I let out a laugh. Oh, there it was. He did put alcohol in that drink. Damn—how did he do it? It tasted just like grape juice!
"I don't think it's fair for me to be the only drunk one again, though, Joker. I want to see what you're like under the influence," I said, "I want our minds to have hot, drunk, sweaty intellectual fornication," I laughed at his term again. He finished his beverage let out a laugh with mine.
"That's not all you want, Giada," he said finally. I glanced over at him and saw his dark brown eyes glossing over. He was drunk too, though he'd never let me believe it.
"Well, what else do you think I want—besides our minds joining as one…in an intellectual fornication?!" I laughed again at his term, this time harder than before. The Joker couldn't contain himself. He too exploded into a flood of amusement.
"So you do want to join our minds then!" he exclaimed as he jumped off the couch.
"No! I didn't say I would join you! I said I wanted our minds to fornicate!" I laughed as I curled up into a drunken ball on the couch. He then felt it would be a good idea to hop back onto the couch and tickle the hell out of me. I squirmed and shrieked for him to stop until I was kneeling up, facing him.
"Like I said—that's not all you want," he said in a soft low voice.
"I think that's not all you want," I responded with a chortle, "Oh Joker, you're so good at playing these mind games with me—turning what you want onto me! But I can do the same to you! I think that is what you want!"
"What do I want?" he asked, burning his eyes into mine.
"You want to do more with me than intellectually fuck my mind," I responded, no longer laughing. His face softened as I said that and he sank down into a sitting position on the couch.
"And you're projecting this onto me…because…you want me to do more than intellectually fuck you," he replied finally, glancing up at me.
"And if I did? We're both so good at projecting the things we want onto each other—why can't we just do what the other wants without projecting onto them?" I asked finally, "I mean, I know it's not as fun for you, but I think you know by now that I can play your little mind games quite well, and well, to be frank, I just want you to play your mind games with me, because they are the only things that really make sense to me," I stated. He licked his lips and then peered up at me. Reaching up behind him to the light switch, he slowly turned the lights lower. I breathed in and swallowed, not really knowing what he was going to do next. He really had me speechless at this point. Suddenly, without warning, he pulled me on top of him—we had been in this position before. Instead of holding my arms down at my shoulders, he took my hands in his and placed them on his face.
"Look at me," he said firmly. I did as I was told as he placed my hands on his scars and let me touch them. "What are you thinking as you touch them?" he asked as he licked his lips.
"I don't know—I'm speechless," I said right away. And to be honest, I really was speechless. The lights were dim, I was drunk, he was sitting down, and I was straddling him again. It didn't scare me to touch his scars, but I didn't know what to say. I just wanted to kiss him.
"That's not what you're thinking," he said, as his hands slid down my hands and circled my wrists. I had expected him to grab them forcefully, but he held them lightly. He was right. That wasn't what I was thinking, but I didn't know how to say what I was thinking. How do you tell a mass murdering criminal who had blown up half a city earlier that night that you are infatuated by them and that you want them to make love to you? I really am crazy.
"What are you thinking?" he asked again, this time more forcefully, as his hands tightened around my wrists.
"I love it that you're always smiling," I said finally.
"Ah—always smiling. That's just it—I'm not," he responded.
"Well, neither am I," I replied, trying to change the subject. Maybe he would kill me after all. Enough with the scars!
"What are you…really thinking…as you touch them? I mean…the same could be said for you if I touched yours. What am I really thinking?" He asked as he let his hands leave my wrists and graze over the scars on my chest, covered by my shirt.
"I…I," I licked my lips as we gazed at each other.
"No need to be nervous, Giada," he said, "I already know more about you than you think I do,"
I wondered if he knew what I was thinking and he just wanted me to say it aloud.
"I…I…I want you to kiss me," I said finally, my heart pounding fiercely inside my chest. Oh God, what would he do? What would he say to that? When was the last time someone wanted the Joker to kiss them? He would definitely kill me now he if didn't believe me. My hands were shaking. I know he knew how nervous I was, considering my shaking hands were still touching his scars. Tired of waiting for his response, I shut my eyes for a moment, breathed in and out once and then re-opened them.
"I want you to touch mine now," I said finally, and removed my shirt entirely. I took his hands and placed them on the scars on my chest.
"What are you thinking as you touch my scars?" I asked, re-gaining control of the situation, now that the tide had turned. He just sat there, softly feeling my scars. His hands looked much lighter against my olive skin—they matched the color of my scars. Suddenly, when our eyes met again, I could feel his hands shaking like mine had. He quickly pulled them away and looked back at me, raised his eye brows and licked his lips.
"You didn't answer me," I said, raising my eyebrows to match his.
"What you would do to me if I did kiss you," he replied finally, taking a moment to breathe after he spoke.
"I guess you'll never know unless you do," I stated, "I mean…where's the fun in knowing what I'd do?" I let out a small laugh. After a moment and he still didn't say anything, I continued, "We're both so exposed now, at this point, would it really matter?"
I didn't even know where my mind was going at this point. I could almost feel as though the Joker was softening up in this moment—the lights dim, the alcohol, the touching of the scars. It was all kind of bogus, really, but I felt human, and I think he did too. It must have been the first time he'd felt this way in a long while. I don't think he knew how to handle it. Maybe I should get the ball rolling. Maybe I should kiss him. There would be no way he'd do it on his own. Maybe he would. After all, he is the Joker. It would be his style to make me believe he isn't going to kiss me, and then…
He positioned his hands on my face and placed his full lips to mine. I half expected him to pull away after that, but he deepened the kiss. My hands automatically traveled up to his head. I grabbed onto his hair as he continued to kiss me. I didn't want him to stop. He did stop kissing me, but he moved lips elsewhere. He pulled me closer to him and kissed my neck. His lips really were soft as they glided down my neck and to my chest. My hands kept holding onto his hair as he kissed my chest and then back up to my neck. I then tilted my head to my left and started to lick his earlobe. He released a low sigh, so I decided to go further with it. I softly grazed his earlobe with my teeth and then gently bit it. This was too much for him to handle. He let out a small chuckle followed b a moan.
"Oh, Giada, you really know how to get a guy going," he said, slightly moaning, as I kissed his neck. I could see where my face had brushed against his, because the white was smudged so that I could see bits of his skin beneath it. I knew I must have some white paint on my face. I didn't care. I had an idea. I stopped kissing him and sat up straight.
"Oh, why'd you stop?!" he groaned, shaking his head, "I was really starting to get into it,"
"Come on," I said as I lifted myself off of him and grabbed him by the wrist.
"What? Where are we going?" he asked, glancing around.
"This way," I said as I shoved him down the hall and into my bedroom. I shut the door behind us and pushed him onto my bed. I then crawled on top of him and kissed his lips.
"Oh, I do like this much better," he responded, licking his lips.
"Yeah? You like this?" I asked playfully as I pinned his arms down to the bed, just above his head.
"Yeah, I think so," he replied as he glanced down to where I was straddling him. Yeah, he liked it alright. I could feel it through his pants and mine! The Joker must be well endowed. Still holding him by the wrists, I kissed him. I ran my tongue across his bottom lip and then bit it right before I deepened the kiss. I then let go of his wrists and unbuttoned his green vest. He loosened his tie and then hoisted himself up so he could remove the vest. He tossed it to the floor and I began unbuttoning his blue shirt. What the hell!? The more I unbuttoned, the more I was taken by surprise. He had an unbelievable body—it was beautiful. No scars that I could see from the front, and he was really toned. He took off the shirt once I finished unbuttoning it. I placed my hands on his chest and leaned down to kiss him again but he stopped me.
"My turn," he said finally, grinning.
"My shirt's already off," I smirked back at him.
"Uh uh," he said, and then with one hand, unclasped my bra. I rolled my eyes as the straps fell from my shoulders. Damn, he had skill! I dated plenty of guys who couldn't unclasp a bra with one hand. Maybe he'd had more sex than I anticipated. I threw the bra to the floor and leaned over him, kissing his neck and chest. I really wanted to bust him out of his pants, but I figured I should make him wait it out—it'd be the playful, Joker-like thing to do.
Oh…wait…never mind. It was still his turn. Wrapping his arms around me, he flipped me onto my back and he crawled over next to me and kissed my lips. He let his right hand wander down my torso until he unbuttoned my jeans and took the liberty of wandering into my pants. I think he felt it would be a cruel joke for him to play with me over my underwear, seeing as how I was already wet and wanting him inside me. But no, he just took his sweet fucking time. I bit his lip as he kissed me and continued to finger me over my underwear. I wanted him so badly at this point. I was moaning, but not loudly, and my breathing was getting faster and faster.
"Joker, you need to stop or I'm going to come," I said finally. He just kept going. I placed both of my hands on the sides of his face and pulled him completely on top of him so I could feel him in his pants. As I let my hands slide over the scars, I could see the paint starting to wear off. He kept kissing me and I decided to flip him over. Straddling him, I unbuttoned his pants, unzipped them…and slid them down and off his legs. He wore boxer briefs. Never saw that one coming. Rather than analyze the Joker's choice of underwear (which happened to be my preference!), I slid those off of him as well.
"You waste no time, Giada," he said, looking down at me, licking his lips and grinning.
"When I want something, I go after it—go big or go home, as they say," I replied with a slight smirk. Finally, looking back to where I was…oh wow, he was well endowed. I took him in my mouth and licked up and down the shaft and around the head. He let out a moan and pulled me up to him so he could kiss me. He rolled me over and kissed my neck and down to my chest…and all…the…way…down until he finally reached my pants. He simply slid them off and dropped them on the ground.
By now, a lot of his face paint had come off and was streaking all over my body. The black around his eyes was smudged and around his cheeks, most of the white was worn off—only the red remained most prominent. He removed my underwear and then leaned back over me and kissed me. I placed my hands right over his scars as he kissed me. Then, flipping him over, I got on top of him and kissed him all over his face, my lips gliding right over the scars—as though they weren't even there. He reached down with his right hand and touched me. I wanted him so bad. I let out a moan and a sigh.
"Put it in," I sighed into his ear. He reached down and grabbed himself, brushed the head against me, licked his lips as he stared up at me and then placed it in the hole. I sat back on him and he let out a moan as he disappeared inside. We thrusted for a bit with me on top, but then he flipped me over onto my back and he thrust in and out. Beads on sweat started to form at his temple, and dripped slowly down the side of his face. I could basically see him at this point without his painted face. I didn't even see the scars anymore. He bit his bottom lip as he continued to go in and out. I bit mine as well. Even his hair had seemed to lose its green tint. It just hung in front of his face as he hovered over me and continued thrusting.
….his scars were gone—I couldn't even see them anymore…he had a face behind that mask….and it was handsome…as he kissed me, I felt more than just the kiss…I felt his passion mixed with mine…I felt his desire…I wanted to join him…I wanted to be with him…I wanted him…I knew I was in deep…I was in love…I was in love with the Joker.