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Chapter Text

The call had come in way too late at night. Someone was found tied up in an abandoned warehouse near Amusement Mile, a bag over their head. The police instructed the man who put in the call to stay outside just in case this was some sort of sick game from Joker. It was too close to the first of April for anybody to want to push it. 

Nobody went near the warehouse but Bruce. Jim was nearby, but far enough that anything that happened in there stayed in there. That was a lesson they had both learned a long time ago. Joker never wanted anyone but Bruce to show up when he tried shit like this. 

The person that was tied up wasn’t squirming or making noises like you would expect a Joker hostage to do. Which made Bruce even more cautious.

He snuck up to the tied up figure, getting his fingers on the bag over their head and tugging it off quickly. 

It was Joker.

He smiled as best as he could around the gag in his mouth, bloody red lips staining the leather. Bruce took a step back, shocked.

“What the hell…?” He muttered to himself as Joker kept on smiling.

He pulled the gag out of Joker's mouth, drool following it as Joker made a little noise that Bruce didn't want to think about ever again.

“Seems you've found your gift, darling” Joker said with a little laugh, “Don't you like it?” 

Seeing as how said “gift” was Joker tied up on the floor with a gag in his mouth like he was offering himself as a sexual sacrifice, no, he didn't like it.

But Joker just kept smiling like he loved this kind of attention, and, knowing the clown, he did. Bruce took a deep breath, trying to keep calm even with the absurd circumstances staring him down. 

“What was the… point of this gift?” Bruce asked slowly. 

Joker just smiled at him like the cat that caught the canary, “You know what, darling” 

Bruce stared him down. Joker’s challenging gaze never broke. 

Bruce, however, did break. He let out another sigh, shoving the gag back in Joker’s mouth. Joker laughed around the leather. Clearly he thought he won. 

Bruce was ready to show him that he wasn’t. 

He flipped Joker onto his front, shoving him to the floor with an anger he couldn’t imagine feeling with anyone else. He could tell from the lack of clothing that Joker was already prepared before this, it was just a matter of starting to fuck him. 

Joker whined when Bruce took just a little bit too long to take the codpiece off. Somehow Joker had already memorized the exact sound of the clasps releasing from the two times they had been together already. Bruce decided that he was going to wait even longer to get to it even though he already felt like he was going insane with want. 

He tugged on the ropes making sure that they were secure. It was crazy to think that Joker had done this to himself, but he must have. He knew Joker’s possessive streak went deeper than him just wanting Bruce all to himself. He wanted Bruce to realise that he wanted Joker all to himself as well. He wouldn’t dare let anyone else see him like this. 

Especially not after last time when they both scarred each other so deep that Bruce feared they’d have to go to the hospital. 

Then Joker whined again and every ounce of restraint that he had been showing flew out the window.

“Try to stay quiet” he said before shoving himself inside down to the hilt. 

Joker screamed behind the gag, eyes rolling to the back of his head with pleasure. Bruce felt similar, his whole body singing with it. 

He wanted to make this fast, he wanted it to last as long as possible. If he could stay in this moment forever, he would. But, however, he knew that Jim would only last so long without a check in before he’d start to worry. 

So he sped up, happy to hear Joker’s little moans as he kept going. He wasn’t paying attention to Joker other than that. This was his “gift”, he was going to use it as he damn well pleased. 

He didn’t notice when Joker’s come splashed on the concrete floor. He didn’t notice when Joker started making noises that sounded like begging. He just kept going, chasing that euphoric high he knew was coming. 

“You look so pathetic like this,” Bruce hissed in Joker’s ear, voice thick and gravelly, not just from the modulator. 

Joker whined, back arching to get Bruce inside impossibly deeper.

And that’s when Bruce came. 

They sat there, breathing in sync for several moments before Bruce finally let Joker drop to the floor, squirming on the concrete. 

He didn’t dare pull the gag out just yet, just grabbed Joker’s clothes from where they were folded up in the corner and threw them at Joker.

“I know you can get out of those.” he said, pulling out wet wipes and cleaning himself off. 

Joker laughed again and Bruce found that he wasn’t sick of the sound yet. He tugged a few times on the rope with the bits of his fingers he had access to and the ropes gave way. 

Then the gag came off, and, god, was it a terrible idea to let him untie himself because he did not want to hear a single word that would come out of his mouth about this. 

“Did you like it, darling?” he said, stealing Bruce’s wet wipes to shove up his ass to clean himself. 

“It was fine,” Bruce said, lying through his teeth. He had loved it. For once he felt like he had a handle on whatever weird thing they had started a few weeks ago. He felt in control. 

Joker glanced at him with a smug look on his face, pulling his pants up with ease, “Mhm, yeah sure, love” 

The ride to Arkham was silent other than Joker’s humming. 

And of course it was a song his mother used to play around the house when he was younger. 

“Stars shining bright above you~ Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’” 

Usually he’d oversee the intake process just in case Joker tried to escape, but now he just needed to go to sleep. Plus, he didn’t want to see the looks on the guards faces when they did the full body search and noticed that Joker still had come lodged up his ass. 

And later that night, in the shower, he did some things that he wasn’t proud of while reminding himself of the muffled screams behind the low quality leather. 

All while his brain was singing.

“Stars shining bright above you~ Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’” 

Chapter Text

Jack hadn't been working at Wayne Enterprises all that long. He had been part of a recovery program that Bruce himself had set up. Despite being a former patient at Arkham for a suicide attempt gone wrong, he was one of the most confident people Bruce had ever met. 

Which explained why Bruce had wanted to get to know him. He had always been a sucker for magnetic personalities. 

Except a week after they had started talking, Jack had somehow ended up bent over the desk with his pants around his ankles. 

And they'd been doing this ever since. 

So when Jack walked into his office on that Saturday afternoon, he knew nothing good could come out of it.

“Hi, baby. What are you doing in the office? Everyone else went home already.” 

“Then why are you here?” Bruce countered, continuing to fill out useless forms, not even looking up at Jack.

“Maybe I was hoping that you’d still be here,” Jack said, leaning on Bruce’s desk.

“Then it doesn’t sound like you’d be complaining about me not going home” 

“Or…” Jack said with a theatrical tilt to his voice, “We could go back to my place. I’m sure it won’t impose on your life too much. Don’t you want to fuck me on an actual bed?” 

Bruce rolled his eyes. He hated it when Jack got desperate like that, especially when he was trying to work. 

“Jackie, not right now” he said, still ignoring Jack in the hopes that he'd eventually leave him alone when he realised he wasn't getting what he wanted. 

“Please, Baby,” Jack begged. He pushed himself up to sit on the desk, legs spread wide, “I promise I’ll stop bothering you” 

Bruce sighed, moving his work off his desk so that Jack wouldn't mess them up. 

“This isn't a good idea,”

“That's not what you said last time. Or the time before, or-” 

Bruce shoved him a little, effectively shutting him up by making Jack giggle, “Shut up”

“Make me” 

♦♠ ♥♣

So here they were, twenty minutes later, with Jack spread out nakedness on the couch, eyes wide with want.

“Oh and here he is,” Jack said, breathless, “Indulging me during his long day. Aren't I a lucky girl” 

“You look like such a slut” 

“Mmm, I do, don't I?” Jack mused, stretching out on the couch like he owned it, “Why don't you fix that?” 

“I don't think I can,” Bruce laughed at the absurd request. Jack wasn't ever anything but a slut in his eyes. He knew that fucking him would only make him worse.

Jack laughed at him, “You're funny, darling.” 

Bruce couldn't ever remember being funny before.

Jack pulled a small bottle of lube out of his pocket. The vial was warm from being pressed so close to his skin all day. Bruce almost chuckled at The fact that Jack had been carrying this around all day, just hoping that Bruce would say yes to fucking him. 

He poured a generous amount onto his fingers, coating them in slick warmth. Jack made a strained little noise, mostly because he knew what was coming next. 

Usually, it took an army to get Jack out of the elaborate suits he always insisted on wearing to work, but he'd already shed those, so Bruce didn’t have to fight against straining fabric in an attempt to get to Jack's skin. His fingers slipped in easily, not because Jack had already prepped or anything, but simply from the fact that they had been in Bruce's office doing the same thing only yesterday. Jack was the most insatiable creature Bruce had ever came across. 

Ha, “came across”.

He had certainly come a time or two.

Or more like almost every day since they met a month ago. 

Jack moaned, loud and unashamed, happy to be used like this. He squirmed, trying to get Bruce's fingers deeper, but Bruce kept a firm grip on his hip with his left hand. 

“Tease,” Jack hissed through his teeth.

“Says you,” Bruce growls back. 

Then he shoved himself inside even though Jack was nowhere near ready. 

Jack moaned loudly. He had always been loud, no matter what Bruce did to him. His voice would always end up hoarse for hours after one of their… sessions. Bruce smiled to himself smugly, knowing that nobody else got to see Jack like this. 

They had made a pact. Nobody else but the other. Not exclusive, more like with a mutual understanding. 

Jack’s nails scrambled for purchase on Bruce’s suit. He didn’t find anything solid enough to grasp, the expensive silk giving way under his fingers. 

“Fuck” Jack gasped, almost going cross-eyed, “You're good at this, Wayne.” 

“I thought we established this. No one else, remember? Wasn't that your idea? Wasn't I so good that you didn't want anybody else to have this?”

Jack hadn't exactly said that when he proposed that they go exclusive, but it was heavily implied. Bruce snapped his hips once just to hear Jack's responding gasp-n-moan combination. 

“Don't stop” Jack yelped, like it had taken all of his force to say that. 

And Bruce didn’t intend to stop. He pounded at Jack's ass with a fervor that only came out of him when they were in a rush. He had to get home soon, Jack had been right about that. 

It was then that he realised that he didn't actually have to make both of them finish…

And that one thought alone, of leaving Jack here by himself with an issue he wanted Bruce to fix when Bruce had already solved his own, made him come harder than anything they had ever done together.

Jack hissed through gritted teeth when Bruce unexpectedly pulled out, leaving him on the couch still fully hard and leaking. 

“You bitch” Jack growled at him, jerking himself so quickly it looked painful. 

Bruce found himself mesmerized by the sight, breath caught in his chest as he watched this marvelous creature stroke himself to completion. Jack's face contorted with pleasure before he tilted over the edge, come spilling along his knuckles.

“You're an asshole, you know that?” Jack said, sitting up slowly.

“You've told me” Bruce responded casually, fixing his clothes and starting to pack up his work stuff. 

“Y'know… we could still go back to my place?” Jack said, sliding up to Bruce's side, still completely nakedness, “We could always have some more fun~”

Bruce shoved him away, “Put your damn clothes back on, Napier”

Chapter Text

Jack hadn’t been expecting the fight to go like this. Hell, he wasn't sure why he had shown up shirtless. 

He had just wanted to prove something, that Bats was nothing but an idiot in a Halloween costume. He wanted to prove that the Napier Initiative was more important than some fucking billionaire beating the shit out of the mentally ill.

And yet here he was, selfishly wanting to fight him one last time. 

At some point, they had shifted from beating the shit out of each other to Jack assaulting Bruce's mouth with his own to Jack being pinned to a brick wall with Bruce’s dick up his ass. 

And it was glorious. 

This wasn’t what he had expected at all. 

He moaned loudly when Bruce hit his prostate dead on, hitting it with an accurate precision he'd have to tease the bat for having later. Now he was too focused on the pleasure bursting behind his eyelids. 

He slammed an already bloody fist against the brick wall, screaming an expletive he wouldn't usually say, especially not that loudly. Bruce hummed at the swear, like he was happy to hear that he had broken Jack that much. 

“Darling,” Jack moaned, getting excited when Bruce flinched at the word. The whole point of this wasn't love or even pleasure.

It was destroying the other one so bad they wouldn't be able to recognize each other. 

Bruce grabbed at his hips all the harder. Jack wouldn't be surprised if he woke up with little finger shaped bruises there in the morning. 

Good, he wanted that. He wanted this man to mark him. 

Harley wouldn't like it though. He honestly had no idea why he had proposed in the first place. He was already in love.

And that love was reaching around him to fist at Jack's cock. 

Jack let out a little, “ah,” when kevlar covered fingers wrapped around his straining dick. He hadn't expected Bruce to give him back some of what he was taking. He wasn't going to complain though, he loved this. 

Bruce's movements were rough, like he wanted to get this over with. Jack was about to give him what he wanted though. He could feel his release creeping up on him. 

He was going to end up getting cum all over the wall and he knew that Bruce knew that. 

“Please,” he begged, voice split in half. 

With one last long tug on his cock, Jack came against the wall with a shudder. Filmy white fluid stained the brick in front of him. He let out a long groan that had lodged itself in his throat a long time ago. 

Bruce didn't say anything afterwards, just bit down on the nape of Jack's neck, surely leaving a mark there. Jack hadn't even noticed that Bruce had come, but now he knew for sure. He felt a sticky liquid oozing its way out of his asshole with the force of gravity. God, did it feel good. He hadn’t felt this thoroughly used and stretched in ages.

And Jack found himself not caring about the bite. He knew that Harley was probably going to see it and that she probably wasn't going to like it. Maybe she'd see the cum dripping out of his asshole too. Maybe it'd stain his dress pants when he sat down for a meeting later.

He didn't give a shit, he was leaving it in. 

“Baby,” he moaned when Bruce pulled out. He was freaking out about what this meant. He couldn't hide that he didn't hate the Dark Knight anymore. 

“We're not going to tell anyone about this,” Bruce growled, snapping the codpiece back in place. 

“Dammit,” he teased, “What am I going to do now?! I was definitely planning on telling my fiancée that I got fucked in the ass by Batman.” He rolled his eyes, pulling his pants back up. 

Bruce just stared at him with those hollow white eyes. Jack felt himself falling in love with them all over again. 

“A quick fight and fuck to get us back on track?” Jack teased, running his fingers through his hair in a makeshift comb.

“We're not doing this again,” Bruce said firmly. 

“Of course not, darling. But tell me, did you like it? Even a little bit?” he leaned in close, so close their mouths were almost touching.

“No,” Bruce said, clearly lying through his teeth. Jack let him get away with it for once.

The next day, Harley commented on the bite mark and the bruises. He lied and said that he had no clue where they were from. She clearly knew but didn't say anything else after that, so he didn't worry too much about it. 

He was mostly just trying to figure out how to get Bruce to do it again. 

Chapter Text

The cattle prod in Bruce's hand hummed with electricity. 

Joker had insisted on this when Bruce brought up the idea of a little punishment play in the bedroom for once. It was too close to the anniversary of Jason's death for him to fuck Joker without wanting to stra gle him. Maybe making him suffer a little during sex would make that feeling go away. 

“C'mon. Baby. Don't tell me you're too pussy to put the big bad clown in his place!”

They had been chasing each other around Joker's bedroom for ten minutes already. The foreplay was really starting to get to both of them. The button on Joker's dress pants looked about ready to snap. 

In response to Joker’s poor attempt to rile him up, he shoved the crackling cattle prod to Joker's thigh for three seconds, counting down in his head. 

And of course, since they can never be normal, Joker moans. 

Bruce pulls it away after those three seconds were up, giving the delirious Joker a moment to recover, before shoving it on his stomach this time.

Now he counts down from five. Joker's eyes roll to the back of his head and he moans again, this time so loud. Bruce is sure it can be heard through the paper thin walls. 

“Love,” Joker begs, hips snapping forward as if to grind on air, “Now, please”

“What if I'm not done with you yet?” Bruce hisses, cattle prod connecting with Joker's stomach again. He holds it there for two seconds then pulls away. 

Joker whimpers at the implication. Bruce could keep him here all night if he wanted to. Joker would never leave if Bruce wanted him to stay. 

Joker doesn't open his mouth to speak again after that. Just lets out these little noises behind his closed lips. 

“Good job,” Bruce says, because he doesn't quite have the confidence to call Joker “good boy”.

Joker whimpers again, a pathetic, begging sound. Bruce feels like he's getting drunk on it. 

He shocks Joker in the stomach again, six seconds this time. 

When he sees the look of pure ecstasy on Joker’s face, he knows that he’s gonna have to start fucking him now before it’s too late. He unclipped the codpiece (listening to Joker’s hum as he hears his favorite sound in the world) and tugged Joker's pants down, revealing Batman print boxers. 

“They were on sale,” Joker lies with a shrug and a laugh. 

Bruce looks at him incredulously, eyes almost rolling as he pulled the ridiculous boxers off. 

He knew that Joker loved seeing him between his legs, looking up at him as he sucked.

So he did just that, letting his eyes go slightly glassy just to see Joker's breathless face. Joker came in his mouth mere seconds later.

“That was quick,” Bruce joked, wiping his mouth, “you got somewhere to be, sweetheart?” 

He couldn't help but notice Joker lite swallow when Bruce called him sweetheart and decided not to comment on it, “No. I just really love you” 

Bruce laughed, “That's not really a reason, baby” 

Another swallow, “I just…” 

“Mhmm,” Bruce said softly, crowding up in Joker's space, “Tell me,” 

“I was really looking forward to seeing you,” Joker said pathetically.

Bruce wasn't sure that it was the full reason, but he let Joker get away with it. Just for tonight.

“Better,” he said, flicking Joker on the cheek, "We'll have to work on your manners later though?” 

Joker laughed, “Punish me again, Daddy?”

Bruce just shoved him away.

Chapter Text

He was stuck on the bridge while Joker carried a detonator to contaminate the entire water supply for the whole city. He was tied up with the kids only a little bit away.

And yet Joker was climbing into his lap, grinding down on Bruce’s hips. 

“I love seeing you like this, darling” Joker said, licking a stripe up Bruce’s cheek, detonator still in hand, “Completely at my mercy. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you”

His face was flopping horridly against the exposed muscle of his cheeks and jaw. Bruce felt repulsed by it. And somehow also intrigued. He wondered just how infected the layers of flesh were at this point. 

“Mmm,” Joker hummed, throat bobbing, “How sure are you that your birdboys are watching?” 

“I-” he didn’t get to say anymore because Joker had ripped off the codpiece, grinding down exactly on Bruce’s crotch. 

“Why don’t you tell them to go home? I’m not going to do anything more than this.” Joker mumbled in his ear, rotting skin almost too close to Bruce’s. He didn’t want it any closer. 

Then he slipped off of Bruce’s lap and in between his legs. He pulled down the undersuit with greedy fingers. Bruce couldn’t see his eyes, but he knew from experience that if he could, the green would have darkened, blown wide and hungry. 

His head was spinning. He didn't want this, not here, not like this. He had always expected that their reunion would be this mind blowing night where Bruce was both rough and gentle in the same breath. He'd kiss over bites he had put there as if to drive Joker crazy. He'd be so rough with him that his hipbones would splinter and Arkham wouldn't know what to do with him. 

He hadn't ever wanted it like this. 

“Call them off,” Joker said, licking a line up from base to tip. 

Bruce bit back a groan. Nope, he wasn't going to let this man break his resolve.

“Call them off,” Joker repeated, “I don’t want them interrupting our fun, darling. Call. Them. Off”

“Can’t,” he choked out, “The messaging system is in the gauntlets,” 

“Well isn’t that a shame….” Joker said, continuing his peppering of kisses. 

And then he took Bruce all the way down to the base. 

Bruce repressed another groan. They couldn't be loud, not like this. Somebody would hear. He had the GCPD on standby. 

Joker giggled around his cock, sending vibrations through Bruce's spine. He forgot about Joker's lack of a gag reflex. It had freaked him out the first time, but since then he's gotten used to it. Partly because he'd seen Joker eat playing cards whole before with no complaints. Why he did it was still a mystery. 

He muttered a “fuck” under his breath. He knew he was getting close. And he knew that Joker wasn't gonna let him get off that easy. In either form of the expression. 

Joker pulled off, causing Bruce to hiss through his teeth with frustration, “Call them off.” 

“I can't” 

“You have a fancy comms system in that silly little hat of yours. Call them off.” he clicked the head of Bruce's cock as if forcing him to remember what the reward was for him. 

So Bruce obeyed, sending a strained message to Dick about all of them, GCPD included, to head home.

“Are you sure?” 

Bruce looked down at the expectant Joker between his legs, “Yes,” he choked out.

The second the call ended, Joker dived right back in. 

This time he almost screamed. He hated having to play the waiting game with Joker because it always ended in disaster. 

This waiting game was torture. And that was half the fun. 

Again, when Bruce felt like he was about to come, Joker pulled off.

“Do you want more, sweetheart?” He says, strangely sugary sweet. 

Bruce nods, teeth gritted so tight he swore they were going to splinter. 

“Well then…” 

Joker hops back up into his lap again, straddling him, that grotesque face right next to his again. 

“Here we go…” 

He shucked his pants off, half almost ripping even though it seemed like he wanted to pull them down sensually. He pushed down on Bruce’s dick, eyes going wide. He was already wet and loose and open. Had he been planning this along with the bridge stunt? 

“Oooh, I forgot how good that was. Why did I ever leave you, darling?” Joker said before letting out a loud moan as he bounced up and down. 

Neither of them lasted long, coming in sync with each other. Joker screeched while Bruce groaned low in his throat. 

When Joker stood back up, Bruce could see the cum already leaking down his thighs, almost blending in with his skin. 

“I love you so much, darling.”

Bruce just grit his teeth and prayed that Joker would let him go soon. 

He didn’t want to ever see him again. He was too pissed that Joker had been gone for a whole year and then just randomly showed up with a fresh bloody face mask just to blow Bruce. 

And yet he wanted more.

“Joker?” he asked, despite hating himself for it.

“Yes, love?” 

“Are you planning on doing this again sometime soon?”

Chapter Text

Joker hated crawling to Bats for help. But right now it didn’t seem like he had any other choice. One of his stupid fucking goons had shot him in the side. And for no good reason! He hadn’t even done anything this time! He’d just been doing a little performance review. Which maybe involved a few choice words, but nobody had ever decided to shoot him before! 

Blood was staining the pale white snow at his feet. Oh wait, that was right. It was Christmas Eve.

Bruce was probably with the birdies. He probably wasn’t even thinking about Joker, even though every one of Joker’s waking (and non-waking) thoughts were all about him. He was probably having the holiday he deserved with people that weren’t horridly obsessed with him. 

He almost choked on the bile that shoved its way out of his throat. He threw up, marring the snow even more. 

He was starting to go dizzy too. Never a good sign. 

He was almost at the back entrance to Wayne Enterprises when he collapsed on the cold concrete sidewalk. He couldn’t pull himself forward anymore. 

He was going to die here. He was going to die a sad miserable death out freezing in the snow because he didn’t calm himself down for thirty seconds.

Or maybe because he never seemed to be able to hire competent goons. Either option worked at this point.

And that’s when he saw it, the faint golden hum of a light.

“Joker?” Bruce asked, voice strained, “What are you-?” 

Clearly he had spotted the blood.

“Hey, Bats.” Joker said, before everything started to go dark.

“No, no, no, no. You’re not going to sleep, not now” Bats said, pulling Joker up and helping him support his own weight.

“But sleep sounds so good.”

Bats firmly pinched him, “You go to sleep, you die” 

Joker giggled, “Well that’s unfortunate. We couldn’t have my ending being this lame, could we?” 

“Come on,” Bats said, pulling him closer, “Lets get you to the med bay”

“Okay then” Joker said, slightly happier since Bats was here. Was he in costume? Joker couldn’t tell. That sucked. He didn’t want to know who Bats was under the mask just yet.

Well, not officially yet. 

Bats gave him an IV that he wasn’t allowed to take out despite his major fear of needles. Bats luckily knew this and held his hand the whole time to keep him from panicking. He got his side patched up and everything. Plus! Bats gave him a little kiss afterwards!

Joker guessed that it was for his good behavior. 

He leaned into the small amount of cuddle the Bat was handing out for free, breathing in the smell of cologne rather than Kevlar. 

“Do you care about me?” Joker asked, still curled up on Bats' side, probably high with how many painkillers he had to take. 

“Of course,” Bats lied through his teeth, kissing Joker’s hair.

“I care about you,” Joker said, ignoring the obvious lie, “I don’t know what I’d do without you”

Bats laughed softly, kissing Joker’s temple this time.

“Me neither”

And Joker wasn’t entirely sure that it was a lie.

Chapter Text

Bruce’s head was spinning. He didn’t know what to do. 

His date night with Joker had been planned for weeks, but he’d been weird ever since he kidnapped a good chunk of the rogue’s gallery and forced them to choose whether they wanted to save Gotham or blow it up. Bruce hadn’t quite approved of it when he first heard about it, but it was over now and Gotham was safe and Joker was safe so he didn’t mind very much. 

“Baby” Joker said when Bruce answered the face-time request, “Can you fuck me tonight?”

Bruce felt stunned at the strange question, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Joker responded, eyes still hollow, “Just do it.”

“That doesn’t ease my nerves, J.” Bruce said, eyes glazing over Joker’s gaunt face. He hadn’t eaten since the Arkham thing. Bruce kept wondering why. 

Thirty minutes later, half an hour before Joker was supposed to get there, Harley called him. She never did that. Something must be wrong. 

“He lied,” She said, voice shaking, “I just thought that you should know”

Bruce felt confused, listening to her basically have a panic attack over the phone, “Harley what’s wrong?” 

“The whole Saturday night in July thing.” she said, and suddenly it clicked for Bruce exactly what she was talking about, “It was all a lie. He lied to gain our trust. He was never abused. He told me in Arkham a few days ago.”

Bruce wanted to drop the phone. Joker had told him what he thought was everything. That his name had been Jack and that his mom used to hurt him to feel something again since cutting herself didn’t work anymore. He apparently still had scars from her. He knew that they were there, just not which ones. 

And he distinctly remembered watching Joker tear up as he told Bruce about how she smiled while she hurt him. How she sang as he wanted to die because of how bad she’d fucked him up. 

And he thought that it was all real.

“I broke up with him,” Harley said, voice static over the phone, “He’s just your problem now.” 

Bruce had known that Joker was still with Harley, that after he had spent the whole night telling Bruce just how much he loved him, he went home to pound Harley into the mattress. He knew that his love was divided. He knew that he had never been Joker’s real romantic priority. Sure, he was obsessed with Batman, but how could Bruce Wayne compare to that? Joker was in love with the idea of a creature beating him black and blue.

Not Bruce. Never Bruce. 

He felt disassociated when Joker showed up, who looked just as out of it as Bruce. Maybe he knew that Bruce knew. 

They ate in silence, even though they usually talked each other’s ears off at this point, sharing stories of their day and making silly lovesick faces at each other all night. 

Now it was like somebody had forced a bulletproof glass sheet in between them. 

Joker tugged on Bruce’s sleeve when Bruce was cleaning up their dinner mess, “Can you fuck me tonight? Please? I really need it” 

Bruce knew that this was probably his last opportunity. He had been planning to break things off ever since Harley called him. Harley and him had an understanding. They would both get to love J. and try to be friends. Bruce had really grown to enjoy her company. She wouldn’t lie to him, especially not about Joker.

Plus she had never been that great of an actor. 

So Bruce let Joker lead him to the master bedroom of the penthouse. He watched silently as Joker stripped with a severe lack of performance like usual. They were both saying goodbye and they knew it. 

Joker laid back on the sheets, skin bright against the black silk, legs spread and arms stretched up wide as if asking Bruce to pin them to the bed. 

He didn’t. He crawled on top of him, pressing kisses to a snow white throat as slow as he could. 

He felt the drip of Joker’s tears reach his hair as his hands started lazily tracing Joker’s sides. He ran his fingers over skin he already had memorized, just to feel those jutting ribs one last time before he ruined it all. 

Joker was tight as hell when Bruce lightly inserted his lubed middle finger into Joker’s twitching rim. Joker cried even harder at the feeling. Not a physically painful crying, but painful all the same. His index followed the middle soon after, still pressing kisses to Joker’s collarbones. 

It took a few minutes for them to get ready at the slow pace they were going. Joker let out a strangled sob about five minutes into the three finger game, and Bruce knew what he wanted. He carefully removed his fingers, slipping out smoothly. 

He lined up his cock to Joker’s ass. He looked at the crying clown for permission, and Joker just stared back at him with big green wet eyes. 

He dived in just because of the love in those eyes. 

Joker sobbed again when Bruce slowly slid down all the way to the base. He looked up at Bruce, tears still in his eyes. Bruce wanted to kiss him.

He didn’t, just pulled out almost all the way and then went back in all the way.

And that’s when everything went wrong.

“Red.” Joker choked out, trying to scramble away. 

Bruce let him, pulling out even though he had been enjoying that. They had never been that emotionally connected during sex. He hadn’t ever thought of Joker as emotional before. 

Joker shoved his face in his hands, sobbing out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” over and over again. 

Bruce didn’t dare touch him. Just let Joker ride out whatever he was feeling. It didn’t work. Joker started clawing at his hair, ripping out bloody fistfulls easily. 

Malnutrition. 

“You must hate me” Joker cried, still pulling, digging nails into a bloodied scalp, “Harley does and I didn’t-” 

In a snap, Joker had straightened himself back out like he was perfectly fine. 

“I’m going home. You don’t have to contact me again, I won’t bother you now” He said, standing to dress. 

“Joker, wait-” 

But Joker was already gone, having flung himself out the window. Bruce panicked for a moment before quickly realising that Joker hadn’t actually jumped, it was just an easy way to leave. 

He tried to let himself breathe. It didn’t work so well. He hated panic attacks, especially when they came from something personal rather than Batman or work related stresses. He collapsed to the floor, hands tugging at his hair to ground himself. 

Joker wasn’t coming back. He wasn’t ever going to be coming back. He was going to fuck off to France or something and wallow in his misery until he eventually shot himself with no Batman to save him. Bruce would never see him again and pretty much the last thing Joker had said to him was a fucking safe word. 

He cried on the bathroom floor that night while the shower was running so if Alfred came to check on him, he wouldn’t hear anything. He didn’t know what to do. 

The fact that it was a lie didn’t matter that much to him. He should have known that Joker wouldn’t tell the truth about something as traumatic as that. It was that he had been so gullible to tell him real things when he knew that most of what he would say would turn out to be false. 

But he had loved him all the same and now he had lost him to the darkness. He just wanted to be able to love Joker with nothing in the way, even with the situation with Harley. 

But why had Joker wanted to blow up Gotham in the first place?

Bruce searched for hours for the security tapes from that room and watched the whole thing. He heard when Joker cheerily complimented Bruce’s body with most of the rogues in that room having no idea that he knew what it looked like up and personal. He watched them all goofily sing “Hey Ya!” by Outkast. He watched J. smile all night right up until Ivy revealed his secret. 

Then he was closed off, snapping at everyone and clawing at his hands with his fingernails. 

Bruce was going to fucking murder Pamela Isley. 

He kept the silly little trinkets that Joker had left at the penthouse, every butterfly knife and little trinket. Even the playing card that J. had left as a morning after note before he disappeared with a lipstick stain from a kiss he had pressed there on it. 

He was crying himself to sleep every night. God, where had J. gone? 

And then they found the body. 

Mistah J, Mistah J

Why you got me feelin’ that way?

Chapter Text

Jack had always liked the Tumbler. He found it cool. It could knock buildings down. He'd been run over with it a few times. 

And now he was going Bruce head in the driver’s seat, trying his best to not knock his feet against the gas pedal. He moaned low in his throat, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He had always loved this particular act, especially when he got to do it for his bat. 

“Fuck! You're a goddamn politician, how the fuck do you know how to do this?” 

Jack just smiled, his feet getting dangerously close to the gas. He pulled off with a pop, “You forget who we are, darling” 

“So you've done this before?” Bruce teased as Jack licked a long stripe up his dick. His mouth was starting to get sloppy with spit and precum. He didn't mind. That just made this more enjoyable for both of them. 

“You really expected me to have not?” Jack teased, before going back to his sucking. Bruce groaned especially loud when Jack's tongue swept over his tip.  

Jack looked up at Bruce, eyes begging for permission. Bruce seemed to get what Jack wanted and nodded. Quickly, Jack's hand found the front seam of his pants, palming himself feverously. 

“Fuck,” Bruce murrmured, “Joker,” 

Jack didn't want to think about the thrill that shot up his spine at the word.  He wasn't the Joker. Not anymore. He hadn't been that man in months.

But Bruce saying that name so sensually just confirmed something that Jack had suspected.

Bruce Wayne was in love with the Joker. And he saw Jack as Joker. Which therefore meant that he was in love with Jack too.

Jack sucked harder at the discovery. He listened to Bruce’s drawn out moan, savoring the flavor of him.

Who knew if he was ever going to be allowed to do this again. Jack certainly didn't. He just prayed to the bat god that he'd get to do this again. 

Bruce came into his mouth a few minutes later, groaning deep and heavy in the back of his throat. Jack swallowed dutifully, despite the burn of it. Then he moved to Bruce’s kevlar covered thighs. He kissed and licked and sucked the tough armor plating. He wanted to wait until Bruce’s erection was back so he could suck him off again. 

His fingers found the way to unclipped the material on Bruce's thighs. He found his way to his prize hungrily. His sharp canines came down to sink into the meat of them. Bruce groaned, his cock stirring again. 

He was going to worship this deity until he didn't know anything but him.

Jack could tell from the second that he pulled away that the bite was going to bruise. Good. He wanted it to. He wanted Bruce to go back to the birdies with hickeys all over his body from Jack's mouth. He wanted him to have to scramble to hide them when somebody walked onto the batcave. He wondered if Bruce got off to pressing down on bruises that way Jack did. He knew he'd have some fun ones to play with later. 

“You're insane,” Bruce said, eyes dark with just. He was half-hard and getting there fast. 

“You too, darling,” Jack teased, still palming himself. It was a shock he hadn't finished yet, but maybe his body was waiting to come in sync with Bruce. He wanted to know what that felt like. 

“You're insufferable,” 

Jack laughed at that one. Harleen had said the same thing about him three days before. He dived back in to keep stirring Bruce's cock to life. He wanted Bruce inside, even though Bruce probably wouldn't agree to that. 

Just when he was thinking of that, Bruce ordered, “Get in the backseat,” 

“Oooh, what new position are we taking, love?” 

Bruce ignored him, choosing to throw him in the back by the collar of his shirt. Jack giggled. He was about 80% sure that his meds were wearing off. Honestly, that was the least of his concerns right now. He was more focused on the fact that Bruce was right there. 

Bruce all but ripped Jack's clothes off, belt whipping to the side with a crack. Jack smiled, toothy and open. Bruce looked unnerved at the expression, but he was in too deep to try and back out now.

Bruce looked at Jack like he was a god when he finally got all his clothes off. The codpiece was still sitting in the passenger's seat where Jack had thrown it earlier. Jack felt so connected to this beast when his bare palm slid down Jack's thigh. He whimpered in response like a pathetic dog. 

“Brucie,” he pleaded, “Can you just…”

Bruce luckily got the memo, forcing Jack to suck on two of his fingers before shoving both in at once. It burned exquisitely, the corners of Jack's eyes welling with tears. 

Oh, he loved this.

He kept whimpering and moaning while Bruce fucked him with his fingers. Jack kept trying to contort back to fuck himself deeper, but the still gloved hand on his hip stopped him from squirming. 

“C'mon, baby. Need you insi- ah!” he moaned, Bruce splitting him in half already.

“Oh… oh god” Jack whimpered. This was too much. He wasn't going to be able to take it.

“Darling. I don't think it'll-” 

“It'll fit,” Bruce growled. 

Then Jack felt the pressure in his ass give way around his rim just a little. God that was just the tip. 

Bruce seemed to be done taking it slow. He pounded Jack into the surely expensive leather of the backseat. Jack became a squirming mess under him, cross-eyed with pleasure. 

“You asshole…” Jack managed to get out. Bruce didn't seem to hear him.

He felt like he was exploding when he came. Bruce followed him not long after, spurting hot loads into Jack's ass. Jack felt like he'd been vivisected. His guts were spilling out all over the seats. His brain was leaking out his ears, cum was leaking out of his ass. 

“Oh god, baby” he said, panting, “you better do that again at least once before I die” 

Bruce ignored him in favor of grabbing wet wipes and handing them to Jack. Jack wiped out his ass even though he'd kill to keep Bruce's cum in him a little longer. 

“Y'know, love. If I didn't know you any better, I'd be thinking that you actually lik-” 

A child was tugging on his sleeve, or at least trying to. “Dad?” He asked, looking concerned.

“Yes, Bryce?” 

“You just zoned out there. Are you alright?” 

Jack shrugged it off, “I’m fine kiddo. Just an AI glitch. Your Uncle Bruce is a little far from us right now. What were you saying?” 

Bryce looked a little guilty, “I just asked you why you like the Tumbler so much.” 

Jack smiled to himself.

“I've just got some good memories in there with your Uncle Bruce, that's all,”

Chapter Text

 Joker had been waiting a long time for this. He'd slipped himself some of his own stash of sedatives, feeling loopy. Bats would be there in an hour or so. Joker was going to try and convince him to defile the rule about safe and sane, but he highly doubted that it was going to work if he asked while lucid.

So he wasn't going to be lucid. 

Bruce showed up right on time like he was supposed to. Joker was already naked, laying out on the bed.

“Evening, darling,” he drawled, stretching out even more, “You ready?” 

Bats looked at him quizzically, “Why are you high?” 

“I'm not! We have rules, why wouldn't I respect those?!” He said, lying through his teeth. He was high as a fucking kite. Sedatives were fun, but coke was better.

“Because you're a psychopath who never listens to me,” Bruce said, slipping off armor even though they probably weren't fucking tonight, “And your pupils are dilated. Not to mention the inflamed right nostril,” 

Well there went his dreams. 

“Baby, please,” he said, squirming on the sheets, “Indulge me just this once. You know that I'm not that high. I can't get that high.” 

“What if you don't want it in the morning?” Bruce said, slightly shy in that straight up adorable way that Joker was obsessed with. His darling never wanted to hurt him, not like this. 

“I'd never regret you getting to have your way with me.” Joker smiled, “I want you to do it. Ruin me.” 

Bruce smiled even though he looked nervous, “Are you one hundred percent sure?” 

“More than I have been of anything,” Joker decided to please him a little by spreading his legs wide, “Come inside, love” 

Bruce finally smiled, pushing Joker’s legs impossibly further open and sliding between them. 

He was slightly detached from himself when Bruce pushed inside after a few minutes of careful fingering. He didn't quite mind though. That had been what he wanted. He wanted to not be able to feel when Bruce absolutely wrecked him. He did, however, want to be able to feel it in the morning. 

“Love,” he gasped, “More, please,” 

“Greedy slut,” Bruce growled. 

And he smiled. Because if his darling was insulting him at least he wasn't gone. 

They were done faster than usual. Bats left out the window in the same way he came. Well, not like that. 

Joker’s head felt fuzzy. But in a good way. 

He sat up in bed slowly, before flopping back down and wishing that his darling had spent the night.

Chapter Text

Bruce was supposed to be on patrol that night. But then of course, his whole plans were derailed with a call from Joker. 

“Come on, darling! You need a night off!”

Bruce sighed. Joker’s voice was coming through the comms line that he had hacked months ago. It had become his favorite activity to annoy Bruce while he was on his rounds. Bruce had ended up with at least three new scars due to the… distractions coming through the speakers. 

“Not tonight, J.” 

“Awwww! Please! I haven’t seen you all week!” 

Bruce swung off a building, grappling over onto the next roof, “So?”

“So. I wanna spend some time with you”

Bruce knew what that meant. 

He had started patrol at eleven that evening. At eleven thirty, he was climbing through the window of Joker’s apartment. 

And by three AM, they were still going. Joker was lying flat on his front, ass perched up in the air, begging for one more round.

“J. no. Give me a fucking break” 

“Darling!” Joker hissed, sounding pissed as hell, “Now! I’m not asking” 

“Me neither! I know it’s been three weeks, but I need a moment” Bruce said, breathing heavily. He hadn’t taken most of the suit off this time and now his limbs felt heavy. He pulled the cowl off first, feeling relief at the gush of cool air on his face. 

Joker was still squirming on the bed, still hard and leaking.

“God, you’re insatiable,” Bruce complained, kissing Joker’s spine. He was sure that if he ran his hand down Joker’s back, he’d be able to feel every ridge of bone. 

“You love it,” Joker said, leaning into the touch. 

“Not tonight I don’t” Bruce lied, pressing another soothing kiss to Joker’s back. Joker shivered. 

Oh, this was going to be fun. 

Bruce smiled against Joker’s skin as the idea hit him. Take him on a carousel ride. Slow and steady.

Maybe that’d calm the beast. 

So he kept pressing soft, slow kisses into Joker’s skin, sliding his hands across the planes of soft white beared to him. 

“Love?” Joker asked, the question hanging in that air open ended. 

Bruce just hummed against Joker’s skin. He reached Joker’s already bruised neck. Knowing how much Joker loved bruises to be pressed on deeply, he sucked down an even bigger mark on the already purpled masses. 

“This isn’t what I had in mind…” Joker gasped, back arching. Bruce slipped an arm around his torso and pulled him close. 

Bruce’s cock was too close to Joker’s ass. Joker gasped again at the feeling. Bruce loved hearing it, but he wouldn’t be able to go again. 

So he stuck two fingers into Joker’s gaping hole, listening intently to the sharp moan Joker let out. It couldn’t be stretching him at all, but maybe it was just the warmth of it. 

Joker kept making these little pleased noises that sent Bruce’s brain spiraling into an obsession that was already so deep, he could have sworn that it wouldn’t be able to grow anymore. 

“You’re doing so well, darling,” Joker said as Bruce kept sucking on his neck like a fucking vampire, “This is nice. We don’t do slow often.” 

The rest of the night was spent with Bruce slowly coaxing another orgasm out of Joker. And then another, and another. 

The beast was finally done at around five in the morning, passing out on the cum sticky sheets with his face red and his body completely spent. 

Bruce just let himself watch Joker’s moonlit face until he fell asleep himself about thirty minutes later, his arms wrapped around his clown and his face buried in green hair. 

Chapter Text

Bruce wasn’t supposed to sneak out of his dorm at three in the morning, but he did anyway. Jack had been asking for him all day, begging over text for just a quick fight. Bruce, of course, was going to indulge him. He had always been a pushover when it came to Jack. 

Jack lived a ten minute walk from campus. His parents couldn’t afford to pay for a dorm on top of tuition (which they barely paid in the first place) so Jack lived at home while going to school on a reduced tuition. He worked most days and nights just to keep attending. The bags under his eyes were getting criminal at this point. 

That particular night though, Jack's eyes were more bruised than normal. They were rimmed with red too. 

“Jack?” Bruce asked, coming up close to cup Jack’s face in his hands, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jack sniffed. He leaned into the touch like he was starved for it, which, actually, he probably was, “The house is just kinda scary right now” 

Bruce swiped his thumb over the bruised skin under Jack’s eye, realising now that it wasn’t from a lack of sleep, “Is that why you wanted me here?” 

Jack smiled, “I do actually want you to beat the shit out of me,”

“Why?” 

“I wanna cover up the shit they pulled with you” Jack said, eyes full of wicked danger. 

Bruce tried his best to smile. He hated it when Jack went on his little self destructive episodes. He hated it even more when he dragged Bruce into it and used him as a creative form of self harm. But it was better than the alternative. He’d seen the scars lining Jack’s thighs the first time they’d slept together and almost gasped at how gruesome they looked. He didn’t want Jack to go through that again. 

Which was why he was planning on offering Jack to move in with him. He could pay for an apartment for them. Sure, they had started out fucking each other because they wanted to smash each other’s faces in, but he’d really grown to love Jack.

Now only if he could say that. 

“Please, Bruce. Just ten minutes then I’ll let you go” Jack’s eyes had grown into that dark desperation Bruce had only ever seen in situations like this. 

“Okay, but not for long. We’ve got class tomorrow”

Jack nodded. He took a few steps back to give Bruce room to swing. Bruce took the shot with a twist of guilt in his chest. 

Jack smiled as he wiped blood away from his mouth, “Another,” he said, and Bruce hit him again.

This was how they met, stress relief fighting after long days, only for it to turn sexual really damn fast. Jack was downright gorgeous and Bruce wished he could express that without sounding overly sappy. It was too early for overly sappy. 

Around the fifth punch, Bruce stepped back, heart racing too fast.

“Another,” Jack insisted, standing up shakily, “C’mon, baby. Keep going.”

“No,” Bruce said, voice firm, “I’m not hurting you anymore.” 

Jack looked like Bruce had just stabbed him, “Brucie, please, keep hitting me.”

“I can’t.” Bruce said, feeling more tired than he had in weeks, “Jack, I’m not going to help you hurt yourself. Not tonight.” 

Bruce saw the tears welling in Jack’s eyes. He didn’t want to see him cry, so he swooped Jack up in a big hug as they both collapsed to the floor, Jack’s head landing on Bruce’s shoulder as he soaked Bruce’s shirt with tears.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jack sobbed, hands clutching Bruce’s shirt. 

“What happened?”

“They found out,” Jack said, choking out the words, “They found out about you, baby. Oh god, I’m dead. I’m so fucking dead” 

“You’re not going to die, Jack,” Bruce held him tighter, knowing that the pressure helped soothe him, “And if you think that they’re going to hurt you again, tell me and I’ll call someone to help” 

“No, don’t” Jack shook his head against Bruce’s shoulder, “No cops” 

“They’ll help you,”

“They didn’t help when-” Jack said, his voice getting louder. He cut himself off, too afraid to wake his parents. And tell Bruce what he was planning on saying. 

“They’ll help you,” Bruce insisted, “And if they don’t, I’ll make them” 

Jack just kept sobbing as quietly as he could. He kept telling Bruce over and over that he was sorry and Bruce wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for. 

So, when Jack had finally let all of his feelings out and pulled himself away from Bruce’s shirt, Bruce kissed him, long and languidly. Jack melted into it immediately, his whole body relaxing. 

Soon, their hands began to wander along bruised and scarred skin. Jack kept asking Bruce quietly where he got his scars from and Bruce replied to every one he could remember. He didn’t dare ask about Jack’s own. He knew where they were all from. They sucked new, non-violent marks into each other’s skin until the sun began to rise. Bruce could tell the whole time that Jack was shaking with worry. Worry that his parents would find them, that they’d hurt Bruce too. 

Bruce wouldn’t let that happen. Not while he was still breathing. 

Jack packed his stuff in garbage bags that morning with Bruce by his side. 

And despite Bruce’s protests, he flipped off his parents as he left through the door. 

Chapter Text

Jack’s hands were shaking. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry” he cried, head hurting from the tears.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Bruce tried to assure him, it didn’t work so well, “If you’re not up for it tonight, then we don’t have to”

He had just been released from Arkham that morning. Joker was gone, replaced by a fucking loser. Jack was drowning in chemicals and new emotions and stimuli. 

The whole reason he agreed was originally because Bruce had asked him to. Then he wanted to do it for himself and the fact that Harley had left just because of his own damn obsession. And then he fell in love.

And now he was staring the one thing he was sure that he could have wanted in the face and his hands were fucking shaking. 

“No, I want to, it's just that…” his shaking got faster, wilder, “What if you don’t want me after it? How long until you realise that I’m not the same person you fell in love with? He’s been drowning under meds for months.”

Bruce quickly stilled his hands, “Jack, of course I still love you. Why wouldn’t I? You’re the same person you’ve always been, just a bit more regulated. And I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t miss our old dynamic, but I’d rather see you happy. And if you’re not happy, then you can go back all you want. I’ll still be there to love and support you, even if I don’t approve of the murder bit,” 

And he was smiling as he said it, eyes bright with something Jack couldn’t name. He was sure that if he was Bruce, he might see something similar reflected in his own. 

“I just-... I love you too much to fuck this up and then you leave.” Jack said pathetically. Three years ago, this would have never happened. He wouldn’t have ever said anything like this out loud. But after a parade of therapists told him that the only way to know what people really think about you was to ask, he finally decided to start doing that. 

He just never wanted it to happen here. 

“You could never mess anything up.” Bruce promised, kissing Jack softly, “Never,” 

So Jack let himself lay back on the plush bed, with Bruce crowding in between his legs. He stiffened out of nervousness, but Bruce’s soft kisses slowly got him to relax. 

Bruce’s fingers tangled through his hair and he suddenly felt guilty that it wasn’t green anymore. Harley had developed pills for his cosmetic changes from the acid before fucking off to god know where a week later. Jack hadn’t even got to thank her. 

“Why do you still want me?” Jack asked, turning into sobs again. 

Bruce hesitated before leaning in close, tucking his face in the crook of Jack’s neck like he belonged there and said, “Because I love you, Joker” 

Jack clutched Bruce tight like he might disappear, “Say that again,”

“I love you,” 

“No, the other bit,”

Bruce pulled back, confused, “Joker?”

Jack- no, Joker, smiled, “There you go, baby”

Bruce laughed, pulling lube and a condom out of the side drawer finally, “Are we rolling with that?”

“I guess,” Joker said, eyes going hazy at the sight of what was in Bruce’s hand, “Jack’s never felt like my name anyway”

“Well, legally, that’s what it is now.”

Joker snagged the lube from Bruce, “Well, we’ll just have to get it changed back when we fix my last name” 

Bruce looked stunned at that. Joker just laughed at him, already starting to finger himself open. 

Bruce took over the prep after a few minutes of breathless watching. Joker clung onto him for dear life when his fingers finally slipped inside. 

“Oh, dearest, you should have given me a countdown.”

He heard the way Bruce’s breath hitched on the pet name, “Should I?” 

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long I think if you keep going at this pace, I’ll be done before you” He tugged Bruce’s fingers out, “Come on, love. Don’t be shy. Fuck me already. It’s not like you haven’t been waiting two years for this” 

“Fifteen,” Bruce corrects, slipping the condom on. 

“Fifteen? But that’s when…”

The fact hit him over the head like an anvil in a fucking Wylie E. Coyote cartoon.

“That’s when we met,” he said, completely stunned. 

Bruce just smiled as he lubed himself up, “Yeah,” 

The first thrust in was absolutely everything Joker had ever been hoping for. He went cross eyed, head swimming with nothing but Bats, Bats, Bats. He was sure that if he tired hard enough, he could still smell chemical kevlar clinging to Bruce’s skin from his appearance as Batman to take Joker home. 

Their home. 

He cried the whole time, pressing kisses to Bruce’s face. Bruce kept muttering praise and confessions that nobody else in the world would ever get to hear again. 

“Oh, god, baby. ‘M close” he slurred, drooling too much to be able to form a coherent sentence. Bruce just smiled and smacked his prostate again. 

Joker’s brain short circuited at the end, head going haywire with pleasure. Bruce kissed him like a man drowning and begging for air as he pulled out. 

“That was too long of a build up” Bruce teased, kissing Joker again like he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Please tell me I won’t have to wait another fifteen years for that again” Joker teased back, happy when Bruce started to curl up in his side. 

“If we have to wait another fifteen years, I’m giving up Batman”

“Ah,” Joker said sarcastically, “But if you weren’t Batman, I wouldn’t love you anymore”

Bruce laughed, “Please tell me that you’re not in love with a fucking costume”

Joker kissed his hair, “No, but it’d be funny though” 

The next morning, Joker stopped taking the meds Harley had given him. He was done being somebody else. 

And six months later, his name got changed. Both first and last. 

Chapter Text

Joker had a bad habit of sending him photos at work. Bruce told him every time a new photo was sent that he couldn’t do that. Especially not in the middle of the day or night. He, however, was technically allowed to during the maybe three to four hours a day that Bruce was off, even if he was sleeping. He’d eventually see them in the morning.

But Joker knew that Bruce had a very important meeting that day. 

He almost spat his water out in the conference room when he opened the message, expecting it to be the usual “Come over, I’m bored” text that J. always sent when Bruce was doing almost anything but fucking him to death. 

He wasn’t expecting a photo of bright purple lingerie against pale white skin. 

Lucius looked at him funny when Bruce started coughing, but Bruce didn’t really care. If he knew, he probably wouldn’t be looking at Bruce like that. Actually, knowing Lucius, he’d probably vomit. 

But Bruce was the opposite. He tried to get the water out of his lungs with no avail, staring at his phone with wide eyes. 

you gonna come fix it? 

Bruce knew what he was referring to. The bulge in the purple lace. 

I’m still in a meeting, he texted with one hand, still coughing a little. 

so? Joker responded, and Bruce could picture the shit-eating grin on his face as he typed it. 

I’ve already told you that you can’t text me stuff like that when I’m at work

He was trying his best to ignore the photo, as well as hide it from his co-workers at the table. 

He left the meeting as soon as he could, rushing to his car just to get this over with before patrol. Joker wouldn’t shut up about this until Bruce dealt with it. 

Just as he left the car outside of the penthouse (he had seen the background of his own bedroom in the back of the photo), he saw the newest text.

i can always just finish without you…

Hell no. 

He burst in to find Joker lying down on his bed, hand palming himself through thin lace. 

“Ah, baby. There you are” Joker almost gasped. He pulled his hand away with a slight whine, “Took you long enough”

Bruce shoved him down into the bed face first, “Shut the fuck up” 

Joker moaned into the sheets, grinding down into them. Bruce grabbed his hips, stilling the grinding. 

“Baby,” Joker pleaded. 

Bruce didn’t dare take the fabric off. He didn’t want to. The top was easy to pull on and snap if Joker’s begging got too annoying and the bottoms were too sexy for him to want them gone. He pushed them to the side, happy to already see lube squeezing out of Joker’s hole. 

He slid in easily, hips flush against Joker’s ass. So close that he could feel the lace rubbing against his own skin. Joker moaned again, clearly going out of his mind. 

“Come on, baby. I’ve been waiting all day.” he tried grinding down again, only to fail, “You can go faster, I know you can” 

Bruce almost laughed. He snapped his hips forward, listening to Joker’s receiving moan. 

They kept going like that, with Bruce flipping Joker around to his front about halfway through. Joker clutched onto him like Bruce was his life vest, his only hope for survival. 

Joker came first, staining the purple fabric with white. He looked so blissfully dead when Bruce reached his own peak that it was hard to focus on anything else. 

Bruce kissed his forehead softly as he pulled out, tired and ready to just sleep even though it was only five in the evening. 

“God, those bags under your eyes get worse everyday, darling” Joker teased, letting Bruce relax into him, “Sleep. I’ll make sure nobody bothers you for the next six hours,”

“I don’t have six hours,” Bruce said, already yawning. 

“Yes you do. Now go to sleep, or I’ll make sure that your precious little building isn’t standing in the morning”Joker threatened, with no real malice in his voice.

Bruce just let himself be pulled close with a quiet nod. 

Chapter Text

It wasn’t hard to break into Wayne Enterprises. Jack had done it multiple times before and after the rehabilitation. He was excited this time, because not only was it their anniversary, but he was just now getting out of Arkham after his month-long stay. Sometimes, his meds would stop working and he’d have to spend a few weeks in a cell until they could find something that would work again. This was probably the shortest he’d had to be inside in the six years since he left Arkham for good. 

Bruce had no idea that he was out. He made sure that Doctor Leland didn’t call Bruce immediately like usual. He had spent weeks trying to keep himself in check, even without his meds, just so they could have this. Four years wasn’t something you joked around about. 

Jack nervously twisted his wedding ring around his finger in his usual nervous habit. The Arkham staff didn’t let him have it during his stays for everyone’s (correction, mostly his) safety. He hated having to part with it, but knew that it was probably for the better. 

Bruce showed up about fifteen minutes later, eyes wide when they landed on his husband sitting on his desk.

“Hi Jackie,” he said with the brightest grin Jack had ever seen. 

Jack smiled back, head spinning just being in his presence, “Hiya, baby. How are you?” 

Bruce crowded up in his space, tucking his face into Jack's neck. Jack inhaled his familiar scent like it was a drug he had deprived himself of. He was so fucking happy to be there. 

“Better now that you’re here,” Bruce said, pressing impossibly closer. 

Jack giggled to himself, still shell shocked how this man could ever want him. He pressed a kiss to Bruce’s head, “Wanna go home?” 

“It’s only one-thirty” 

“So?” 

Bruce just picked him up and started walking towards the door, ignoring Jack’s happy squeal. The car ride back ended with them having to pay the driver quite a bit of money to keep quiet and keep the privacy screen up. Jack was sure that there was already a hickey forming on his neck as they rode up to the penthouse. 

Bruce carefully helped Jack put up the small bag of things he’d brought to Arkham when he realised that he was debating putting a kitchen knife through his own stomach just for the rush. He threw anything important in a bag and left, barely having time to scribble out a note to Bruce letting him know where he had gone. He had to make sure to get to Arkham as soon as he felt the meds falter before anything else could happen. Last time he’d ignored the need to go to the asylum, he ended up with a new scar on his leg and bruises on his forehead. Bruce had come home early and found him cackling on the floor, head bleeding. 

“Did they fix your meds?”

Jack nodded, feeling slightly detached, “They changed them completely this time. Luckily they started working, but the side effects are kinda kicking my ass” 

“Do you want me to cancel tomorrow then?” Bruce asked, standing to sit next to Jack on the edge of the bed. 

Jack shook his head.

“Are you sure?” 

“I just feel a little depressed, that’s all. It’s supposed to be normal” 

Bruce looked confused, “Don’t you take antidepressants?”

“The new anti-psychotics don’t mix well with my old antidepressants, so they put me on new ones” Jack leaned into Bruce’s shoulder, knowing that the comfort he wanted would be given easily.

Bruce pulled him close, “And they’re making you depressed?”

“The anti-psychotics are,” Jack admitted. He had always felt strange about sharing his medical problems with Bruce, even though they had been married for four years now. At this point, it was kinda Bruce’s job to worry about Jack’s medical problems, “I mean, it’s either feel a little sad or start compulsively mass murdering again”

Bruce was rubbing soft circles into the back of Jack’s hand, trying to keep him grounded, “I’m gonna cancel the event,”

“You are not,” Jack countered. 

Bruce had never been one for celebrations, but their anniversary wasn’t something he’d ever miss. They usually had dinner with a few friends and Bruce’s family and left it at that, but this year Bruce had planned an event that was similar to a gala just because Jack always loved those. 

“You’ll just drain yourself, J.” Bruce said, not realizing how excited Jack got at the nickname. Bruce had only ever called Joker “J.” in that first month of rehabilitation, just when he realised that Jack was serious. 

“I wanna celebrate,” Jack protested.  

“And then you’ll end up bleeding. I don’t want that,” 

“I’m not going to hurt myself over a party” Jack mumbled grumpily. 

“Last time, I let you go, then lost you and found you with shards of the mirror in your knuckles. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I just want you to be safe.” Bruce pressed a kiss into Jack’s hair. The natural green of it was starting to show at the roots. Usually he got it dyed every month or so just so people wouldn’t mistake him for Joker anymore. Bruce always told Jack to do what made him feel most comfortable. Technically, the brown made him uncomfortable, but it was better than getting called a freak and a murderer any time he left the house. He’d rather not have that thank you very much. 

“Let’s just relax today. If you still feel like celebrating, in any way, shape, or form, just let me know and we’ll do it all tomorrow, okay?” 

Bruce was always so kind and comforting. It was like he actually cared. Jack hadn’t ever had anybody actually care before. He was always dumbfounded whenever Bruce suggested that Jack take care of himself. That didn’t seem normal. He’d always been pushing himself despite the fact that he felt like passing out when he left the house some days. 

So Jack just nodded, letting Bruce guide him to the shower. God, he had missed hot water. Arkham’s facilities had gotten better over the years, but nothing could ever beat the penthouse’s shower. 

He also got way too excited when he realized that he could wear his favorite Batman pajamas again. Arkham tried to limit his Batman exposure, not knowing that he was quite literally married to Batman, but whatever. He grabbed his favorites, a short white set with pink printed logos on them. They pissed the hell out of Bruce which was probably why he loved them so much. 

“Jackie…” Bruce said with a hint of amusement to his voice. Jack could already tell where this was leading. 

“Huh? Oh, this? I thought you liked these!” he teased, smiling wide as he said it. It had really been too long since they had seen each other. 

Bruce stepped close, supping Jack’s cheeks so he could kiss him, “I love you,” he whispered. 

Jack whispered it back even quieter as if Bruce would disappear once he heard it. 

Bruce eased them both back to the bed with soft, coaxing kisses, pressing Jack down into the mattress the second he got the chance. 

The stupid Batman pajamas were eased off slowly, as if Bruce was asking for permission. Jack was eager to say yes when he presented the opportunity. It was all at a dull ebb that, six years ago, he wouldn’t have ever suspected he would get. 

Bruce kissed down his torso, lips lingering along every scar that he had put there. He knew where every single one was from. Jack had heard him trying to recite every story from memory a few years ago when they fucked. 

Jack could feel the cool metal of Bruce’s own wedding band scraping along his skin delightfully, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He loved getting to feel it, whether it was against his bare skin or clinking against his own ring, he loved it. 

Bruce was his. He had always been. Now it was just official. 

Bruce’s middle finger slipped into his ass before Jack had even realized that he had grabbed the lube. He tried his best not to be loud. It was only five by that point and surely people were coming home from their jobs and didn’t want to hear their neighbor coming. 

But clearly Jack’s little gasp was enough to make Bruce smile. His index finger followed the middle, causing another noise to slip. 

“Darling,” Jack gasped. He had gotten into the habit of never using the petname anymore. It was too close to who he was trying not to be anymore for comfort. 

But, god, did it make Bruce’s face light up like a Christmas tree.

 Plus it just felt so natural to say, like it was their own special petname that nobody else would dare to use. 

The first thrust slid in with ease, with Jack squirming to try and get Bruce in deeper. They sat in the moment for a few breaths when Bruce was fully seated, whispering praise and love to each other until it was clear they were both too desperate to stay there forever. Bruce rolled his hips slowly, kissing Jack’s tears away as they fell. 

“You okay?” Bruce asked, being as gentle as possible.

“I’m fine,” Jack sniffed, “I just really love you”

Bruce kissed him once, rolling his hips again, “I know”

They finished in sync, too happy to care about anything but the other. Too in love to focus on anything else. 

Jack fell asleep in Bruce’s arms that night, thankful to whatever placed him here in this heaven. 

Chapter Text

They hadn’t seen each other in six days.

Not like Joker was counting or anything. 

It wasn’t like they had just gotten in a huge fight which ended up with Joker’s lip bleeding and Bruce actually crying for once. He was dumped in Arkham not long after. In which he broke out a day later. 

So now he was wallowing around his apartment, waiting for Bats to come apologize. Mostly just because he sure as hell wasn’t. 

He felt his heart speed up when he heard something land on his fire escape. Boots were thudding, getting closer to the window. Joker instinctively spread out on the bed, giddy with excitement. 

Ha! Serves him right. Joker knew he’d be crawling back. 

“J.?” Bruce asked, stepping into the apartment. Joker always hated when Bats walked on carpet because he couldn’t hear him getting closer. He wondered how expensive it would be to switch the whole apartment to tile. 

“Darling?” he called out, trying to keep the anticipation out of his voice, even though he was vibrating with it. 

“Are you…?” Bruce asked before finding him, “Oh, thank god, you’re okay”

Joker held his arms out, waiting for Bruce to climb into them. He wanted him close tonight, “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Hush attacked Arkham last week. I didn’t know if you had escaped or not by then.” Bruce said, sliding in close. Joker took in the smell of kevlar, surprised at how comforting it was. 

“I’m fine. Didn’t even know that Hushie had been there” Joker said, letting red stain black with a quick kiss. He loved covering the whole cowl in kisses, even if Bruce would just wash them off an hour later. 

“So I’m assuming that you’re not mad at me anymore?” Joker asked, pulling the cowl off quickly. He wanted to see Bruce’s face for this one. 

If somebody were to ask, Joker would say that his favorite color was purple. It could be dangerous if you wanted it to, but there was always lavender to change anybody’s mind about its sweetness. In actuality though, it was blue. It would always be blue.

Specifically the shade staring up at him. 

“It’s hard to be mad when I’m worried that you’re dead.” 

Joker smiled, “Of course. We all know how much old Hush hates me for being the one to steal you” 

Then Bruce started kissing his neck and chest. God, this man was going to be the death of him, and not in the way he wanted. He wanted bloody violence that left everyone in Gotham stunned for years to come, not tender sweetness that stole his breath. To be fair, it would be pretty fucking awesome if he died with hickeys from the bat on his neck. That’d be hilarious. 

He was too busy focusing on the kisses and the possibility of dying from them that he didn’t even notice the tie for his pajama bottoms coming undone. Bruce’s hand slipped in to cup him and the remaining dregs of his sanity flew out the window. 

Yeah, it was happening. He was going to die. 

Bruce’s mouth and hand were too distracting. His head hurt already from trying to fight the fog surrounding him. He wanted more.

So, using one strategically placed moan of “Brucie,” he forced Bruce’s hand. Literally and figuratively. 

His pajamas were thrown across the room, making Joker laugh with the absurdity of it. 

Bruce pressed a deep kiss to his hip then took him in his mouth all the way down to the hilt. 

Joker was floating. He was on cloud nine. He was a brain floating in a dopamine haze that had no other function but yielding to this unmerciful pleasure throbbing in his veins. He couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but let this creature wring that pleasure from his body.  

“Baby,” he hissed, feeling like he was close to losing his last shred of sanity, “Please, inside”

Bruce smiled before leaving one last lingering kiss on Joker’s hip again. His fingers found their way to Joker’s ass, forcing two in way too early. The burn was intense but not unwelcome. Finally, something to ground him to whatever the fuck this was. 

They both groaned in unison when Bruce first sunk in. God, so that was what he had been craving. The ache, the slide, the immense feeling that flooded through his system. The one that said that Bruce actually cared, that he actually loved Joker. 

Joker came first, crying out Bruce’s name as a white hot feeling shot through him, coating his skin in a layer of sticky cum. Bruce clearly wasn’t far behind, but Joker guessed that he might have another minute or two, so he clung to Bruce’s shoulders like he was the only thing left in the world to cling to. He let Bruce ride out his orgasm on his ass like it belonged to him. 

Which at this point it did. He’d gotten that bat tattoo on his lower back for a reason. It was probably glazed over in cum too, a portion that had flooded out from him onto his lower back just from how much there always seemed to be. 

Joker collapsed onto the bed, feeling boneless. His head was swimming in the remnants of the moment, just as it always did, especially after a separation. He barely went a few days without seeing Bruce anymore. To go almost a full week?! It was surprising he hadn’t died. 

Bruce kept kissing his neck, sounding like he was just happy to be close to Joker. 

“Glad you came back?” Joker teased, running his fingers through messy, sweaty hair. 

“Always,” 

Chapter Text

Bruce wasn’t usually in the habit of fucking random guys he met at bars. But he was tired and alone and God this guy's neck was too fucking enticing to pass up. 

So he bit down on the expanse of white, causing the stranger to moan.

“Good job, baby,” the guy giggled, “Keep going.” 

Bruce decided to listen to him for once, tugging at leather that hid even more skin. He was greedy for it. 

He wasn't quite sure who this guy even was. He hadn't ever seen anybody dressed like that in this type of place. Although, it did have a slight reputation for being sleazy. Never mostly bare skin with a slight bit of leather sleazy though. 

The man was moaning hot into his ear as Bruce started to cup the swell of his ass. He should probably shut him up pretty soon. The man kept getting louder and louder and that was a surefire way to get kicked out of the club. 

Music pounded through the walls, somehow reaching them through the bathroom stalls.

Why don't you show me a little bit of spine you've been saving for his mattress, love

Bruce hated early 2000's rock. The guy below him however, was humming along, singing breathily to the best of his ability. 

Bruce's fingers inched closer to the clef of the guy's ass, fingers teasing the puckered hole he found there. The guy, Jack?, pushed back against his hand. 

“Do you have-?” Bruce tried to ask, but Jack cut him off.

“No need, just go!” Jack urged, trying to sink back down onto him. Bruce's fingers speared him open, scraping against Jack's inner walls. It was probably going to be uncomfortable when he finally joined in, but if it was what Jack wanted, he'd do it. 

He just wanted to see his guy come. No, needed. 

Jack was still loud, almost screaming with pleasure when the first finger breached him. Was he really that sensitive? Bruce suddenly wanted to find out. 

Jack kept pressing back, almost begging for a second finger and then a third. Bruce obliged him, fingering him as roughly as Jack was begging for it. 

Jack cried out suddenly, head tilting back. Bruce got the memo.

It was time. 

He pulled his pants down quickly, pretty much just moving them out of the way so that he could get his dick out as soon as possible. Jack was almost naked, save for a few straps of tantalizing leather, and Bruce was standing there, pants scraping against Jack's bare skin as he slid in. 

Fuck me, Bruce thought. He was going to go insane. Even after shoving half his hand up Jack's ass to get him ready, he was still tight as hell. Jack moaned loudly as encouragement and Bruce decided to snap his hips forward even harder.

I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me~ 

Jack moaned beneath him, grinding his hips down to press Bruce in deeper. 

Bruce could feel himself at the brink of release. He pulled Jack down on him while thrusting up once and came. 

Jack breathed out a little sigh at the feeling of hot cum shooting through him, reaching for deeper parts as more came during the aftershocks. He looked fucked out and boneless. 

Bruce wanted to kiss him. 

So he did, pressing Jack up to the bathroom stall door. 

He ended up giving Jack a blowjob in time to Paramore’s “Misery Business” as Jack sang as best he could with Bruce’s mouth around his dick. 

They got kicked out of the club once they left the bathroom due to indecent noise complaints. 

That was fine though. They just relocated to Bruce’s bedroom. 

Chapter Text

After their little jester-king roleplay a few weeks ago, Joker had been pressuring for a switch. 

“Not positions, darling. I know how weird you get about that.” Joker said, laughing, “Remember what I asked about…?” 

So now Bruce was waiting on a Narrows roof in a cheap Joker costume from a Halloween shop downtown that Joker had bought for him. Joker had apparently bought a matching Batman one. 

He adjusted the cheap leather gloves nervously. He wasn’t prepared for this. He probably wouldn’t ever be prepared for this. 

He knew exactly how J. behaved. Every wild gesture, every accent to his words, and yet he was sure that he was about to fuck this up. 

Joker suddenly landed on the roof with a heavy thud of boots. Bruce felt his heart rate speed up, and not from anticipation.

He was nervous. 

He hadn’t ever been nervous around J. before. 

Joker seemed to notice this, pulling himself hastily out of performance. 

“Bats? Is something wrong?” 

Bruce shook his head wildly, almost falling on shaky legs. His breathing was speeding up, making him dizzy. 

Joker all but sprinted over to him, guiding Bruce to the floor, “Baby, breathe. You’re gonna be okay. I’m right here.” 

But Bruce couldn’t breathe. His head was spinning too much for that. He clutched onto Joker’s hand as tightly as he could. Only his hand, because he was sure that if he felt the cheap padding trying to pass off a kevlar under his fingers he’d throw up. 

“J.?” He gasped, still holding on tight. 

Joker was rubbing his back, causing Bruce to feel every inch of cheap nylon covering him, “I’m right here, love.” 

Bruce turned his head to the side and threw up, coughing and sputtering with tears in his eyes. 

“Are you okay?” Joker asked, pulling Bruce close in a mimic of what Bruce had done for him time and time again. 

“This feels wrong,” Bruce admitted, still crying pathetically.

“You could have safeworded, baby. I would have been fine without the play” Joker kissed his temple sweetly, surely smearing makeup along Bruce’s forehead. 

“I-” he didn’t know what to say. He felt like he was breaking something here. He didn’t know there was a rule in place about ruining Joker’s fun, but his head kept telling him that it was there. 

“It’s okay. We can do something else.” Joker’s brushing hair out of his eyes, “If you’re uncomfortable, then there’s no point. We’ll do something else, baby” 

“I want you to have your fun, too.”

Joker smiled at him. It looked odd since he was missing his signature bombshell red lipstick, even though Bruce insisted that he didn’t have to, “We had my fun last time. Now, what do you want?”

And Bruce just stares at him, tears still lingering in his eyes. What does he want? What could he want? 

“You,” Bruce says, feeling tired and in love. 

Joker laughs at him softly, fondly, “You have me. What else?” 

“Home,” Bruce decides, leaning into Joker’s comforting touch. 

Joker just kisses him softly again, “Then let’s go home”

Chapter Text

Bruce cried himself to sleep the night they found him. He cried in that same bed where Joker’s scent was already washing away. He hid everywhere he could just to grieve in peace. Alfred was sure to call him crazy for it. 

Harley turned herself in the next week. She told the staff that she had already been planning on doing it, but needed to contact the bat first. She and most of the rogues were going to try their hand at getting better for once. 

But Bruce just felt like he was getting worse. He couldn’t keep doing this. 

Batman all but disappeared from the streets. It made sense. With Joker dead and the rest of the rogues in Arkham for good, why would they need him? 

They all thought that it was because he was happy to take a break, happy to not have to work himself to death anymore, while he was actually just breaking. 

He wanted to self-destruct, but that wasn’t an option other than his usual “forgetting” to eat and staying up late and working his ass off for no reason. He did everything he could without being detected. 

And it worked. God, did it work. 

He kept a switchblade of Joker’s close, running his fingers along the bat charm welded into the side whenever he needed it. He found himself with it constantly in his hand (inside his pocket of course, he couldn’t afford for the WE employees to find out that he was carrying around one of Joker’s knives). 

One night, he found that he couldn’t help himself. He snuck into the morgue where they were keeping Joker’s body as Batman, hiding so the cameras couldn’t find him. 

It was him alright, not a fluke or anything. Bruce quickly found the bat tattoo on his inner wrist that he got despite Bruce warning that it was probably going to hurt like a bitch. He should have known that Joker’s pain tolerance was really high. 

He should have done something. He should have refused to say goodbye. He should have done everything he could to keep him there. He should have told Joker that he loved him, no matter what, even if he did lie. 

God, what if he wasn’t lying? 

What if it was all real? What if everything Joker had told him was real and he had believed Harley without questioning anything? 

He was spiraling and he knew it. He was spiraling right here in the fucking morgue. 

He left before his tears could hit Joker’s cold cheeks. 

He kept that knife in his pocket as he hung up the cowl for good. He was tired of wearing it. He put the whole cave on lockdown in case Alfred tried going down there while he was busy trashing it. 

He left Joker’s memorial in the cave completely intact as he tore down everything else having to do with the person he had become over the past several years. 

He kept the cave locked down when he went back up stairs, only taking it off for a moment to leave. He didn’t ever want to go back down there. 

The city didn’t celebrate like they thought they would. Mostly just because they could feel the loss of the bat even with all the big name criminals locked up. They felt a drop in morale. 

Bruce found himself not caring. He got rid of the bat himself. He wasn’t coming back. 

The city released butterflies a few days later for a children's event, but everybody knew it was a mourning party for the bat. 

Bruce didn’t care. He was in fact the one still alive. 

Alfred stepped in after the second month of this. He forced Bruce to clean up the mess he had made in the cave and keep everything. 

“Maybe one day you’ll feel better about it all and you’ll still want all of this” Alfred smiled even though he could clearly see how bad Bruce was suffering, “That’s a lot of time to put into an idea just to throw it away at the first person you couldn’t pull off the deep end” 

Except that wasn’t the problem. And it would probably never be. It was simply that J. was gone. 

Bruce wanted him back. 

One night, the body disappeared from the morgue. Bruce cried even harder that night at not getting to know where his body was. 

Two weeks later, he was given a gift. It was a simple matching knife in a butterfly style. He left it on his nightstand every night, preferring Joker’s to this new one. 

A week after that, he could have sworn that he heard his laughter in a nearby alleyway and started spiralling again. He was pretty sure that Alfred was one minute away from making him spend a few weeks in Arkham just learning how to take care of himself. 

Then, suddenly, he was back. The bastard somehow came back from the fucking dead just to fucking torment him. 

It was probably an imposter. Joker had never had a scar on his temple, or one marring his neck by his ear. His movements were never jerky and uncoordinated. 

And yet it was him all the same. 

He knew things, things that Bruce hadn’t ever told anyone. He knew about the fight clubs that Bruce used to run away to in his teens. He sat and cried as he told that story, clutching onto Bruce’s gloved hand because he had collapsed the moment he saw him. 

“Where’s the scar from?” he asked, finally having a voice to speak.

“My mom,” Joker admitted, “Hit me there one too many times. Probably why I’m so scrambled. I used to cover them up for you because I didn’t want you to see.” He squeezed Bruce’s fingers, “You believe me, right?” 

Bruce nodded, too dumbfounded to do anything else. 

Joker looked at him with tears in his eyes, “Thank you,” 

Bruce took him home that night and pressed kisses into Joker’s collarbones until he passed out. He hadn’t really slept in five months since Joker died. His ear was pressed up to Joker’s chest so he could hear his heartbeat and assure himself that Joker was still alive beneath him. 

He didn’t care how Joker was still alive. Maybe he was a gift from Gotham herself. He wasn’t worried about that. 

The only thing that mattered was that Joker was in his arms again. 

Chapter Text

Joker could get used to this. 

He was under Bruce, eyes rolling to the back of his head with pleasure. He'd been able to simply quirk a finger and Bruce knew exactly what he wanted. This universe's Bruce was so sweet and pliant. That's why he'd started their loop in the first place. He wanted to see what else was out there.

Although he was pretty sure that he could get this exact Bruce in their regular universe if he tried hard enough. 

“Baby. God you're good at this,” he praised. Bruce just smiled at him. He really was cute without the cowl. He loved having the bat, but there was something about Bruce's regular face that made him go insane. 

Bruce rotated his hips just for the novelty of a new angle. Joker was going insane with it. Who the fuck was this guy and how did this universe's him get him? He wanted to murder everybody for this man, more than usual. 

Bruce kissed him softly, muttering a little, “I missed you,” as he thrust even deeper. 

Joker wondered where Bats was and when they'd finally catch up to each other. They'd been with each other in the last loop, but not this one. In this one, they had never been Batman and the Joker. They had switched roles though. Joker- well, Jack actually, was the wealthy one while Bruce was his trophy husband. They loved each other deeply though. Joker could tell by the inscriptions on their matching wedding rings. 

Bruce was busy pressing his mouth against Joker's collarbones, thrusting deeply and slowly. Joker could feel every one of his nerves on fire, ready for release. 

The city was falling asleep around them while Joker got fucked by the love of his life surrounded by candles and rose petals. Except that wasn't Bats. He'd see the real Bats in another life or two. So Joker just stared at the city lights as this pretty boy absolutely destroyed his heart. 

He was never going to have this. Not in his life. His real life. He wasn't ever going to have matching wedding bands and sweet nothings. He got straightjackets and bruised cheekbones. He got hospital visits because he drank too many energy drinks while trying to come up with plans to catch Bruce's attention. They'd had to pump his stomach more than once. 

The Bruce in this universe started pumping his dick slowly to try and get him to come. He was so sweet and attentive, making everything as pleasurable as possible. Jack had taught him well. 

Their releases were slow, memorable from how tender it was. The cum up his ass wasn't as uncomfortable as it usually was when he wanted it slow. Mostly because Bruce was holding him close and whispering just how much he adored him. 

The only way to escape whatever life they were inhabiting at the moment was for them to die. Joker knew this mostly because it was his loop. He set up everything so that hopefully Bats raised what he was missing.

And yet Joker was the only one realising what he needed. 

Bruce pressed one last kiss to Joker's mouth, pulling out slowly. 

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked, cupping Joker's cheek.

“I'm fine. Just really tired.” Joker lied with tears in his eyes.

Bruce kissed him softly once, “Okay then, love. Let me know if anything's wrong.” 

Joker shot himself the next morning. He couldn't deal with the cutesy shit of this life anymore. 

Luckily, he saw Bruce in the next loop. 

The only problem was that he looked half dead already. 

Chapter Text

Jack didn't know why he felt so bad. Maybe it was just that classic seasonal depression, maybe it was because his meds had stopped working 

He knew where he could get some cheap serotonin though. The number was so easy to dial. 

So he did.

“Bruce?” He asked into the receiver, hands shaking.

“Jack? Are you okay?” 

Forever sweet Bruce. Jack loved him like this, where was kind and attentive and everything Jack had been sure he'd never get. 

“I'm fine, baby,” he lied, “I just wanted to see you tonight. Movie?” 

“That works. I'll be over around six if that's okay,” 

“Uh huh,” Jack agreed, only half paying attention. He just mostly cared about reigning in that chaotic feeling building behind his eyes. 

He set up everything, popcorn, blankets, a rented rom-com, everything. He needed this to go well just so that his head would stop screaming. 

Bruce showed up exactly when he said, with another one of his jackets for Jack to borrow since the last one had lost his scent. 

“Are you sure that you’re doing alright? Your meds are still working?” Bruce asked, slipping his jacket over Jack’s shoulders. The instant warmth helped Jack feel a little better. 

Jack nodded, “They’re working just fine. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Bruce held him close, “Well, I’ll be here,” 

Jack had always been a rom-com fan. He’d picked “10 Things I Hate About You” because he had always found it funny and he knew that Bruce hadn’t seen it yet. He spent most of the time watching Bruce just to see if he could catch a hint of a smile from him. He was in fact smiling the whole time. 

Jack pressed close to Bruce, savoring in the simple comfort of having him there. 

Jack was not so subtly trying to sneak a hand under Bruce’s shirt. He knew what he wanted. He knew what the entire purpose of tonight was. 

He needed that distraction. 

“Jackie…” Bruce said once he realised what was happening, “No, not when you’re feeling bad…” 

“But-” Jack started to complain. At the look he decided to change tactics, “Please? Just tonight. I won’t ask again. I just-... You make me happy and I thought-” 

But then Bruce kissed him, effectively shutting him up. 

“If it’ll make you feel better then I’m willing to help.” 

Jack laughed into Bruce’s mouth, feeling better already. 

He let Bruce lead him to the bedroom, head spinning with the idea of finally getting to have Bruce close again. He leaned back on the bed, letting Bruce crowd up between his legs.

“Do you really want this?” Bruce asked, fingers already covered in lube. 

Jack nodded. His head slammed back onto the bed when the first finger breached him. He caught a glimpse of Bruce’s amused smile, and groaned out a “fuck you,” 

When Bruce slid in after way too much prep, Jack felt like he was about to explode. Bruce was looking at him with this gorgeous intense look that drove Jack crazy whenever it was focused on him. He groaned again, a little louder this time.

“That’s it,” Bruce said reassuringly, “Let me hear you,”

And that’s what drove Jack over the edge. He came all over his own stomach, staining even Bruce’s torso with flecks of cum. 

Bruce followed him shortly after, sucking a hickey into Jack’s neck. 

“Feel better?” Bruce asked, kissing gently over the spot that was sure to bruise.

“Yes,” Jack gasped, still floating in a dopamine haze.

Bruce slowly pulled out and went to grab whatever wet wipes Jack had lying around his apartment. He cleaned Jack up slowly while Jack drifted asleep in his arms. 

“I really love you, baby.” Jack whispered sleepily, curling into Bruce’s chest. 

Bruce kissed him, long and languid, “I know. I love you too.” 

And Jack had never felt safer. 

Chapter Text

John had never had anyone come visit him. Well, until Bruce. 

He was sitting across from him, hands folded on top of each other. He looked disappointed. John hated it.

“Is something wrong, buddy?” he asked, nervous as hell. 

Bruce just looked at him expectantly. John did, in fact, know what was wrong. He had stopped taking his meds a few days before. He felt too numb when he was on them. Sure, they kept him in check and calmed the violence brewing in his skull, but on the other hand he had stopped feeling anything all together when Bruce came to visit. 

He wanted to feel things when Bruce was there. That was the whole reason he was doing any of this in the first place. 

“Nothing’s wrong, John.” Bruce lied. 

John stared at his cuffed hands, eyes welling with tears. He knew what was happening. He'd messed everything up and now they were done. Bruce would stop visiting, stop showing up on holidays. John would be left alone to rot in an asylum again. 

“You can just leave now if you want. I won't be pushy. I know you probably don't want to stay…” John said softly, tears falling over. 

“John…” 

“No it's okay. I'd rather if you just left right now. It'd save me some heartache.” 

Bruce placed a hand on top of John's cuffed ones, “John, I'm not leaving.” 

John was stunned, “But-” 

“I meant it. Nothing's wrong, I'm not mad.” Bruce promised, hands squeezing, “I just want you know why,” 

John didn't have an answer for him. It was too early to tell him. They were just starting to build trust back. Throwing romantic feelings in the mix was surely a disaster. 

So he didn't give an answer. 

“John?” 

John just shook his head. He couldn't answer, not without wrecking everything.

That's when he realised that either way, tonight was probably going to end with Bruce walking out. 

He didn't want that. 

Bruce just watched him, studying like he knew something was off. He thankfully didn't say anything. John swallowed thickly. 

He was starting to feel that familiar nervous energy flooding his veins. He scratched the back of his left hand with his overgrown nails as best he could with the cuffs on. The pain might ground him. He bled fairly easily…

Bruce was looking at him with increasing worry, eyes zeroing in on where John was all but clawing at himself. 

“John…” Bruce said softly, “Why did you stop taking your meds?” 

Because I'm in love with you. I'm so in love with you that some days I feel like there's a pound of bricks on my chest just because you aren't there.

Leland had always told him that sometimes he was too direct. She meant it in a way to help him with his social skills, but all he heard was too loud, too annoying. 

So he didn’t say anything. He kept clawing at his hand like he was trying to get all the way down to the bone. 

Bruce gently pulled his hands away from each other, “I just want to help. I’m really not mad,” he promised. 

John nodded like he understood because that’s just what you did in Arkham. If someone told you that something was true, you believed it with your whole mind, body, and soul even if it was the furthest thing from the truth they could have come up with. Apparently this rule translated over to the outside, because everyone just told him to smile and nod whenever someone told him to do something. 

When somebody said they weren’t mad, it probably meant that they wanted to actually murder you and weren't going to say it. Harley had said the same thing only a few minutes before she hit him. It was okay though, he was mostly used to the sting of a punch by now. He missed the bat’s punches. However, Leland wouldn’t let Bruce come back even if he wanted to if he got Bruce to hit him. 

He ignored Bruce’s gentle hands and started clawing again. He would have pulled them under the table to hide, but he hadn’t figured out how to disconnect the cuffs from the table yet. And Bruce probably wouldn’t like it if he just slipped out of them. 

“You believe me when I say I’m not mad, right?” Bruce asked, starting to sound concerned himself.

They hadn’t really figured out how to exist around each other again yet. Other than a visit or two that felt like they were right there back at Cafe Triste, they hadn’t been able to manage a conversation for longer than a few minutes and that was usually just, “How’s Arkham treating you?” “Oh fine, I just want to bash my head into a wall cause the guards like to pick on me” 

John nodded again. He wanted to leave, but he didn’t want Bruce to leave. It was awkward, sure, but at least the only person that had ever actually cared about him was there.

Well, John didn’t know if Bruce still cared or not. 

“John, please” Bruce was almost pleading now. John knew why though. He’d worm his way into his head and then steal whatever he wanted from it. It’s what that jerk Crane had done a few weeks prior. 

Bruce took his hands again, “I just want to help, John. Please,” 

Unintentionally, John flinched at the touch. Bruce pulled back like he’d been shot. 

They were never going to be normal again, were they? 

“I just-...” he tried to stare at one spot on the wall to will his tears away. He wasn’t going to cry over this. 

“Just go home. You can’t help,” he lied. He knew how to make a lie look legitimate at that point. Bruce stared at him like he’d just told him that he was actually a lizard. 

“Something’s wrong, I know that, John. I’m not stupid, not matter what the tabloids like to print about me-”

“It has nothing to do with you! Just go!” 

He had to be careful. Any louder and a guard would come in and shove him back to his cell. He was enjoying this little break from the same four walls. 

“Then what is it?”

John wanted to scream and throw things, “How don’t you get it! It’s been six months and it’s the same thing over and over again! I get to see you leave! You get to walk out those doors after only an hour inside as a visitor! And then you don’t come back for a month! Either that or when I decide that I’ve had enough and add a change to the same stupid routine I’ve been doing for as long as I can remember!” 

He’d had enough. He dislocated both thumbs and retreated across the room just so that he wouldn’t smash Bruce’s face in. 

“You really should go home,” he said once he’d calmed down enough to speak again, “Maybe Harley was right, we’re too different to ever be near each other.” 

He was about to sob. He could feel it churning in his throat. He couldn’t look back, too afraid that Bruce would tell him that he was right. 

“But I don’t want to go.” Bruce admitted quietly, “I like getting to see you John. The staff just won’t let me. I’d see you everyday if I could. And, trust me, I’ve tried” 

John almost scoffed. That seemed unlikely. Leland loved it when he showed up and would spend an entire session talking about the three sentences they may or may not have said to each other. He was lying to her constantly about how well they were doing. 

“Go home. Make friends that aren’t in an asylum” John snapped coldly. He was too tired and too far off his meds to care. 

Bruce refused to leave. Even when their hour was up, he didn’t move, not even when the guard screamed in his face. John was led back to his cell as Bruce was forced out. He was fully crying by then. 

He was already going to lose him, why waste Bruce’s time when he’d never be released. Eventually the novelty of visiting would wear off and John would be back at square one, but with a criminal record to boot. 

Bruce came back the next month, and the next, refusing to leave even if John didn’t speak to him. Leland had sent out a notice that the guards were supposed to check that he had swallowed his meds now. His head hurt from the new chemicals. 

He had no control over his loose tongue. He was loopy from whatever extra pill the guards had slipped him. He didn’t care to report it this time, just took it with no complaint.

And that’s when it slipped out.

“I love you,” 

Chapter Text

Jack knew from the moment they met that he was in love. He knew it from the bottom of his heart. 

Harley was clearly sick of him pacing around their apartment fussing over every detail of their last conversation. 

“What if he just said that he thought that I was pretty. Maybe he didn’t mean it.” 

Harley rubbed her temples, “Jackie, he paid you to have sex with him. It probably didn’t mean anything more than that.” 

Jack shook his head, “He gave me his number. Nobody ever does that” 

“Maybe he just wants to pay for you again,” she stood up suddenly, “Jack it’s getting late and we both have a day and night shift tomorrow. You’ve gotta get some sleep, pumpkin,” 

But he couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned all night just wondering. 

He wondered what it'd be like. What it would feel like to actually have somebody care. Bruce had seemed so sweet when they met. He didn't even pressure anything, just took it all at Jack's pace, then gave Jack his number (his personal number by the way. Because of course this gorgeous guy just had to be a super smart gazillionaire on top of everything else). 

Jack giggled himself into sleep like he was a teenage girl. 

He woke to a new text from Bruce. A good morning text at that. Nothing about meeting up again or him paying for Jack again. Just a simple, stupidly adorable, good morning message. Jack squealed so loud he woke Harley. 

They spent the rest of the day texting, already creating inside jokes. Bruce was making Jack laugh harder than he'd ever done before and that was just over text. 

Jack wondered what other noises Bruce could pull out of him.

They ran into each other by accident two months after they first met. Jack was running late to his bartending gig at the Iceberg Lounge. Ozzie had always been a bit of an ass, but luckily he'd let up earlier and decided to let Jack increase his hours. Except Jack forgot that he was working almost all day, so his internal clock was begging for some more time in bed. 

And when he said “Ran,” he meant it. They collided head on, spilling Bruce's cup of coffee between them.

“Shit!” Jack hissed, “I'm so sorry-” 

“Jack?” Bruce asked. God, Jack had forgotten just how blue his eyes were. 

“Oh,” he said, starstruck, “Hi, baby. How ya doin’?” 

Bruce's whole face lit up, “Great. Where've you been?” 

“Work, mostly,” Jack said honestly, “I've missed you,” 

“Me too.” Bruce smiled wider, this one felt like one that not many people got to see. 

“Wanna try and catch dinner sometime?” Jack asked, feeling anxiety curl around his stomach, “I know you've been really busy, but maybe…” 

“How about right now?” Bruce asked. He was so cute. 

“Well, I've got work, but if you're free tonight…?” 

And that's how Jack ended up in the most expensive apartment he'd ever seen, lying naked on sheets that probably cost more than his rent. Apparently Bruce had decided that he was on the menu because he was eating him out. Well, more like devouring him. 

“God, baby. Why didn't you do this the first time?” 

 Bruce pulled away for a second to answer and Jack immediately felt the loss of his tongue, “Didn't want to scare you off,” 

“I'd be the furthest thing from scared, Brucie” Jack said, head going hazy. 

Bruce smiled and dove right back in, his tongue stabbing in deep as if he was searching for something that he couldn't reach. Jack was just happy with him sucking on his rim like it was a lollipop.

“What would the tabloids think of you right now?” Jack teased as Bruce pressed another lingering kiss to his hole. 

Bruce seemed to take that as a challenge, worming two fingers inside with his tongue. Jack started to bite on his knuckles. 

“Stop,” Bruce said, pulling Jack's hand away from his mouth, “I wanna hear you,” 

And that was undoubtedly one of the sexiest things he had ever heard. 

“Fuck me. Now, please,” he was begging and he didn't even care. He was too revved up to stay at such a slow pace. 

Bruce hummed in approval, sliding in so slow it made a wet squelch ring through the room. Jack moaned so loud the walls might have vibrated. 

They took it slow in a complete contrast from that first quick and dirty night. Jack was obsessed with it all. 

He wanted to spend as much time right here as possible, but his body had other ideas, coming so hard Jack saw stars. 

He must have tightened around Bruce's cock, because he came almost right after, forehead pressing against Jack's like they were real lovers. 

And, oh god, Bruce was an aftercare person. Jack all but swooned when Bruce brought him water and a towel to clean up with. Jack wiped his own cum from his chest, trying not to sob over this man. 

Then Bruce pulled him close, pressing kisses to Jack's forehead and cheeks. Jack felt like he was going to die. 

“Was it worth the wait?” Bruce asked, a lick of humor in his voice.

Jack just nodded hopelessly. He was too deep in dopamine to do anything else. 

They fell asleep together, curled up in each other’s arms. 

They officially put a label on it a week later. Jack was so happy that he almost cried. 

Chapter Text

Joker wasn’t happy. 

Bruce had decided that it meant more to show up to a useless gala than spend their anniversary together. 

So now he was storming inside, barely in disguise, ready to absolutely murder Bruce. 

He dragged Bruce by the arm to the first spare broom closet he could find, pulling him away from the blonde he’d been talking to. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snapped once the door was closed and locked. 

Bruce looked dizzy, like he hadn’t been expecting the whirlwind he had just gone through, “Wha-?” 

“Why are you here?”

“I had to. I’ve been skipping these things for months-”

Joker got up in his face, “It’s our fucking anniversary, Brucie. I don’t want to hear a single goddamn excuse.” 

Bruce kissed him for some reason, pushing them as close as they possibly could. They were biting and clawing and grinding. Joker wanted to swallow his air. 

He tugged off Bruce’s dress pants, shoving them down so he could get to his prize. Bruce gasped, hands grabbing at Joker’s hair when he slid down onto his knees. 

Joker smiled as he swallowed him down, tongue slicking against the slit. Bruce groaned deep in his throat. 

Joker pulled off at that, feeling Bruce’s fingers tighten in his hair, “You better be quiet, baby. Wouldn’t want anybody to find you like this…”

Bruce looked like he hadn’t thought of that. Joker smiled at it again, lips stretching wide across his face before they stretched wide around Bruce’s cock. 

Bruce slammed a fist against his mouth, muffling what sounded like a mix of a groan and a moan. Joker wished that he could have heard it fully. 

Joker sucked a little harder, deep-throating Bruce as much as he could. Until Bruce pulled him away by his hair. 

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” Bruce said. Joker let out a happy squeal. 

Joker’s pants were shoved down, shirt still on. He realised that Bruce was still almost fully clothed too. 

“You-?” Bruce said, easily slipping a finger in all the way down to the knuckle. 

Joker giggled, “I was hoping you’d do this. Plus, it’s our anniversary, baby” 

Bruce discarded the idea of prep in the first place, sliding his dick inside Joker’s ass all the way down. Joker moaned, loud. 

Bruce decided to shove three fingers in Joker’s mouth to shut him up. 

They stayed in that closet for way too long, fucking frustrations out. 

Once everybody left the gala, Bruce pulled him up to his bedroom, letting Joker stretch out on the mattress like he owned it. He kissed down Joker’s torso, sucking in bruises as he slammed inside again. 

Joker moaned again, too happy to care about just how risky they had been. 

Chapter Text

Bruce had a fist in his hair, pulling a little too much to be comfortable. Joker didn't mind much though. He liked being used like this. 

They were hidden out in a back alley, pressed together in a quick fit of passion. Joker had instantly dropped to his knees with the filth and grime, all but ripping the codpiece off to reach his prize. He was drooling, the spit mixing with precum and running down his chin. 

Bruce was slowly pushing and pulling Joker on and off his cock. Joker could feel that he wanted to buck, to bury himself down, but he knew that his darling wouldn't, even if he begged for it. 

So Joker tried to push himself deeper, taking in even more, stretching his jaw almost uncomfortably. 

“Fuck, J.” Bruce hissed, though he didn't sound mad, “We shouldn't-” 

Joker pulled off with a pop, “Nope! This is how we're doing it tonight” 

He dove back in even deeper, ignoring Bruce's hand pulling at his hair to get him off. He wanted to swallow him down, to take his very essence down into his stomach. 

“J… please.” Bruce begged. Joker smiled. He wasn’t leaving. 

“So what if your GCPD buddies find us? Don’t they already think lowly of you?” Joker kissed along Bruce’s thigh, wanting to bite but choosing not to. 

Bruce hissed through his teeth. 

Yeah, Joker was gonna bite him.

He sunk his teeth into the meat of his thigh, through the undersuit even though the armor had been removed. Bruce groaned, his hand clearly over his mouth, muffling the sound. Joker chuckled against his skin. 

He moved back to Bruce’s dick, sucking and kissing lightly. Bruce kept making these wonderful noises. 

Joker could tell that he was about to buck into his throat. He prepared himself, letting his throat go lax, eyes closed. He was shocked at the force that Bruce’s thrust was, going all the way down to the back of Joker’s throat. He giggled at the feeling when Bruce pulled back enough for his vocal chords to be freed, despite how wrecked they felt. Bruce was still tugging at his hair, adding the nice light sting to the whole mix of pain-pleasure feelings. 

Joker swallowed everything when Bruce’s release hit, giggling the whole way through. Bruce pulled him off of his cock by the hair.

“You fucking asshole” Bruce hissed. He continued to drag Joker by his hair all the way to the car, throwing him inside.

“Oh, is it Arkham time now?” Joker teased, still giggling with cum on his tongue. 

“No,” Bruce said, slamming the door closed. When he opened it again, he finished his sentence. 

“We’re going to the cave” 

Joker giggled even harder.

Chapter Text

Bruce was staring. He could admit that he was staring. But it was really hard not to. The dark marks lining Joker’s body were too enticing to not stare at. 

They had gone off the deep end last night. Bruce tried his best to not get that rough, but taunting was always the easiest way to get him riled up. 

Joker stirred slightly, as if he subconsciously knew he was being stared at and wanted to show off like he always did. His thighs were on full display, deep blue and purple staining the perfect white. It looked like an abstract art painting. One that Bruce had put there through fights and sucking. His mind rang out with the echoing sounds from the night before. They would probably get kicked out if they decided to meet up here again and of course, that would be a strange thing for an employee to have to walk into. 

He wanted to make another mark, no matter how much Joker would complain about being woken up. He wanted to press even more kisses into this man, wanted to make him feel just as loved as he was. 

So he did. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to Joker’s collarbone, right over an already existing bruise. With just how sensitive Joker was, he’d probably be awake in five minutes if he kept this up. 

So, of course, he had to keep going. 

He didn’t know that Joker was awake until he felt fingers threading through his hair. 

“Morning, baby. What brought this on?” Joker said sleepily. 

Bruce just kept kissing, tongue flicking out to taste his skin. 

“Mmm, I’m not complaining, just so you know…”

Bruce was still sucking on his skin, pressing kisses lower and lower. 

“I know what you want, baby. Sorry though, that’s probably not happening. You tired me out last night…” Joker’s hand was still carding through his hair softly. 

That wasn’t what he had wanted, but now that he mentioned it, it flashed through his head. He imagined making him scream again, making him laugh with pleasure. That sounded pretty good. 

No, he had set out on a mission and he was determined to fulfill it. 

He had always been obsessed with this man, hadn’t he? He was just now realising just how much as he kissed down Joker’s body with no other thought than worship. He sucked another mark onto Joker’s hip, listening to Joker’s moan. He wanted more. 

“Baby,” Joker said, with no end to that sentence. 

Bruce just kept kissing, hands starting to wander. He licked over an old scar on Joker’s side, resulting in a shudder from the other man. Joker’s hand stilled.

“Shit, you really have a way, darling” 

He was hard. After already saying that nothing was going to happen. Bruce almost laughed. His hand reached up to slowly jerk Joker off. 

Joker let out a strained whine, hand gripping Bruce’s hair rather than petting it, “God, you are too good to be true,” 

Bruce kissed his skin again, right over a scar. He couldn’t remember where it was from, but he probably put it there. 

Joker came soon after, slowly and calmly. One of the only times it had happened without some sort of violence. Joker’s resident moan rang out in the tiny motel room. 

Yeah, they were definitely getting kicked out. 

Joker was staring at him, hand still tight in his hair, “What did I do to deserve you?” 

Bruce laughed, still staring at the bruises marking Joker’s body, “I’m not sure,” 

Joker pulled him down into a kiss, wrapping his whole arm around Bruce’s neck, “Well, I’ll be sure to thank whoever put you in my path.” 

Bruce couldn’t help but think the same. 

Chapter Text

“Fine, here’s one question for you. Why are you so damn scared?!” 

And that’s when Bruce decided to pull him in, biting at his bottom lip in a way he knew Joker loved. 

Joker all but melted beneath him, clutching at Bruce’s shoulders like he was drowning. Bruce couldn’t help but smile at just how familiar it felt. 

Joker suddenly pulled away, panting and pressing their foreheads together, “Baby, you better stop before you hate yourself in the morning” 

Bruce wanted to chase his mouth, “I already hate myself,” he admitted. 

Joker smiled, “That’s fair enough,”

Bruce saw the clear invitation, diving back in with full force. He was kissing so hard that Joker stumbled back a little. 

That was an idea, he started pushing, leading Joker to the small bedroom attached to the cave that he used a few times when he was too tired or injured to go all the way upstairs. It was also convenient for things like this. He pushed Joker inside, watching him claw at the door. 

Bruce tossed him on the bed, climbing on top of him. Joker gasped.

“Careful, baby,” he teased, “I have a concussion after all…” 

Bruce bit at his collarbone, listening to the strained little noise Joker made. His hands started wandering lower, pushing down the waistband of Joker’s Arkham uniform. He wasn’t sure why he was still wearing it, but he wasn’t going to complain, the uniform was always easier to remove than those three piece suits Joker loved. 

Joker was trying to pull off pieces of the batsuit, fingers working quickly to reach any bit of skin he could. Somehow, he still remembered every latch to take everything off from the multiple times he’d helped Bruce put the suit on and take it off. 

Bruce felt the familiar press of fingertips without fingerprints on the skin of his arm. He kept kissing Joker’s already bruised skin, wanting to slide into him. They were both already painfully hard, with Joker already trying to guide Bruce’s fingers to his ass. 

“Brucie… please.” 

Bruce’s heart rate went wild. He couldn’t remember being this obsessed with begging or petnames before. But now that he had heard it, he was ready to indulge him. 

He grabbed a bottle of lube that was in the nightstand, left over from when they used to date two years ago. He spread a generous amount on his fingers, rubbing them together to warm up the cool liquid. 

Joker was still clawing at him, babbling please. Bruce let his hand drift down along Joker’s back in a tease. 

“Darling, you better hurry up before I stop waiting.” 

Bruce swatted his ass in retaliation, happily listening to a high pitched whine. Then he sunk a finger in past Joker's rim. 

The man underneath him started pushing to take his finger deeper. Bruce gave him a second before his body had accommodated the first. 

“I forgot how good you were,” Joker said, fingers tangling in Bruce's hair as Bruce continued to kiss at his neck. Bruce’s head was fuzzy with want, with relief that Joker was still alive, that he still wanted him. 

He was three fingers in, knuckles deep. Joker was moaning and squirming under him, head lolling back. 

“Now, baby. Please.” Joker begged. Bruce shuddered at the sound. 

God, it had been so long. 

He couldn't believe that this was actually happening. After two years and the fear of Joker having killed himself added to the shock of it all. Bruce wanted to breathe in Joker’s exhale, pressing himself in so deep that they’d never be able to tell where one of them began and the other ended. 

Eventually, he slid in, fingers tangled with Joker’s while Joker’s other hand rested in Bruce’s hair. He finally got his wish, Joker exhaling into his mouth when they kissed. 

He made his thrusts quick and hard, following Joker’s instructions when he begged. He just wanted to pleasure him, to make him happy. 

And boy did he seem happy. 

Joker pulled Bruce’s face into his neck, clearly asking for a bite. Bruce obeyed dutifully, mouth opening to suck on the skin before sinking his teeth in. Joker moaned.

“Yes, that’s it, love” Joker praised, tugging lightly on Bruce’s hair. 

Bruce felt determined to do good. He wished that he could fuck Joker so good that he’d want to stay. Even if he was planning on giving up everything. 

Maybe Joker’d give up everything too. 

Except that was ridiculous. Joker was always going to be himself. That was never going to change. 

Only… Bruce had met Jack before. And sure, they were different in some ways.

But there was always that night after the rally… 

That night where Jack and Joker blurred into one beautiful human, one that he wanted to absorb himself in. He could still remember the moonlight playing off of Jack (Joker?)’s face. 

And that’s when he came. 

Joker whined in complaint when Bruce pulled out. Except he stopped his whining when Bruce leaned down and began to suck him off. 

Joker finished in his mouth, and by the time he was done, Bruce was ready to go again.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about Jack and what it would be like to finally have the family he wanted. 

And that’s when he had to pull away from Joker’s waiting throat. 

“Something wrong, baby?” Joker asked, voice sounding like it had been put through a cheese grater. He was reaching out to Bruce with grabby hands like a child. 

What was Bruce supposed to tell him? That he wanted someone that he wasn’t but with his personality? Picking and choosing the pieces that he wanted until he made somebody he wanted. 

And so he was staring at Joker’s open and waiting body, arms stretched out to him, panting like he needed him like air. His eyes lingered over old bruises, old scars and burn marks. He saw the two thick ones on his wrist from Jack’s failed attempts, the lines marring his arms from the three months they were apart after the fight. 

All he saw was beauty. 

He saw every mark of this man’s love for him, every mark that he’s made that Joker had wanted to keep. Scars that he praised, boasted about to the other rogues. 

He could also see the evidence of his pain. He saw the reopened rough lines marring his upper arms, clearly done in a rush and cleaned up in a rush. He wanted to trace them with his tongue, to cover up every bad memory with one of him worshipping him. 

“I-...” he said, almost stumbling over his words, “You’re gorgeous.”

He pulled Joker into another kiss. 

They went two more times that night, but it was clear.

He had to give up Batman tomorrow. 

No matter what. 

Chapter Text

Jack had figured it out. He’d finally modified his hologram enough to finally be able to touch and be touched. 

He was finally going to be able to hug his kids. 

But of course he ran right into Bruce. Like, ran.

Bruce usually didn’t sidestep him, just walked right through him. But of course now that Jack was actually corporal, he couldn’t do that. They bumped into each other, Bruce mostly getting shoved back from shock rather than the force of Jack’s body.

“Wha-? How?” Bruce’s jaw was on the floor. 

“Oh, yeah,” Jack smiled, “I fixed myself” 

Bruce’s whole body looked like it was on pause before his head finally caught up and he said, “You were never broken” 

Jack wanted to smile and thank him, but then Bruce did something that Jack never expected. 

Jack’s head only registered Bruce’s mouth on his a few seconds after it landed there. The second it loaded, he wrapped his arms around Bruce’s neck, pulling him closer. 

Bruce stumbled to push him back into the other room. Jack felt the back of his knees hit the edge of a bed. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Bruce panted into his mouth. Jack could only whimper. He let Bruce shove him onto the bed, head spinning. 

The moment they both tumbled onto the mattress, Jack immediately started pulling at Bruce’s clothes. Maybe Bruce had just wanted to kiss since he could now, but Jack had been waiting over thirty years for this. He wasn’t going to wait any longer.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” Jack howled, still clawing. 

Bruce smiled against his skin, “Eventually, baby,” 

Jack’s breath caught in his throat. He wailed helplessly as Bruce kissed trails down his body, lighting up nerves that nobody had hit in twelve years. He was being so sweet Jack felt like his teeth were about to rot out. 

They were slow, stretching everything out (including Jack) as long as possible. Bruce’s touch would switch from light to firm in an instant. 

Jack was a babbling, happy mess. He was getting everything he wanted, Bruce, a future, happiness. It was too much. 

Bruce fucked three orgasm out of him that night. By the time they collapsed onto the bed, it was three AM and they were both exhausted. 

Bruce pulled him close, “I’m so glad I didn’t give up on you,”

“You called me Joker for the first week of me being back,” Jack said, tucking himself into Bruce’s side. 

“I know. And I’m glad I stopped” Bruce kissed his head. 

Jack giggled, kissing Bruce’s neck. He was determined to leave a mark. 

Bruce relaxed into him, something Jack had never felt. He could feel Bruce’s face in his hair, clearly breathing in the smell of cheap purple hair dye and his own soap, “I love you,” 

Jack’s breath caught again. He hadn’t been expecting that. 

But after thirty years, it only felt right.

“I love you too,”