Bats, Bats, Bats, Bats...
A shiver tracing up his spine Bruce tightened his already vice grip on the hips of the body pressed impossibly close to his own. The Joker was a wanton creature of half formed moans and breathless giggles, his body sheathed in a slick layer of sweat that tasted like heaven on Bruce's tongue. And that name, his name forever and constantly on the other man's lips – a soft, breathy prayer whispered on poisoned lips – a lowly supplicant prostrating himself in reverence to his God.
Moaning Bruce buried his face deeper against the side of the other man's neck, lips pressing gently against the Joker's pulse point to feel his heart pounding impossibly fast. The nails of the Joker's right hand dug almost painfully into Bruce's scalp as he bit non-too gently into the Joker's throat, his eyes closed tightly against the name that wanted to escape from his own lips. He would not, he could not say the Joker's name.
The Joker may belong to the Bat, but the Bat did not belong to the Joker.
Opening feverish chestnut eyes Bruce swept his gaze up along the Joker's straining throat muscles, following the curve of that strong jaw and lingering momentarily on those scarlet stained scars before falling on partly opened lips. The Joker's lips trembled slightly as he continued his lascivious moans, soft lustful sounds that shot straight through Bruce's spine and into his pulsing cock. Fuck, fuck, fuck... Gaze flickering briefly up to the Joker's own closed eyes, noting the gentle flutter of dark lashes against equally darkened skin, Bruce pulled the Joker closer against him as if intent on melding the two of them together.
With the Joker's back pressed flushed against his own chest Bruce shifted slightly, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as his head fell back, his own throat muscles straining, as he bit down hard to withhold a particularly deep moan.
More than anything Bruce loved having the Joker like this. Whether it was with the other man on all fours keening and whimpering for more, for Bruce to fuck him harder, faster or flat on his back, thighs spread like a shameless two dollar whore, legs wrapped tightly around Bruce's waist, heels digging painfully into the small of his back as long, ragged nails dug bloody trails along his spine...
Or like now. Both kneeling, the Joker's back pressed solidly against Bruce's chest, the madman's head lolling back against his left shoulder. The Joker's right hand clenching and unclenching rhythmically in the billionaires hair and his left working his own erection, sometimes in time with the sharp thrusts of Bruce's hips and cock into his body and others in a counter rhythm of his own making.
Bruce's fingers dug desperately into the hollow of the Joker's hip bones, his nails hooking into the flesh hard enough to leave ugly bruises in their wake. Bruce didn't care and neither, he supposed, did the Joker.
Licking a trail along the other man's throat Bruce relished in the total control he had over the other man in moments like these. The Joker completely unresisting and accepting of whatever pace Bruce set as he pulled the Joker's hips back into his own forward thrusts or whatever position he might twist the other man's lithe frame into while taking him. Fast, slow, gentle, rough, brutal. The Joker took it all, worshiping the Batman the whole time.
And Bruce delighted in that power, that control. To have all the mad and untamed chaos that composed the other man completely at his mercy.
A tenuous and threadbare leash it may be, but a leash nonetheless. And Bruce was loathe to give that up.
Once more sinking his teeth into the other man's shoulder Bruce closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of the Joker's body. The way his shoulder blades flexed against Bruce's chest, how the fingers in his hair momentarily faltered in their rhythm, and the way the other man tightened around him, momentarily jerking his hips against Bruce's hold to thrust more fully into his feverishly stroking hand.
Growling lowly against the Joker's skin Bruce slitted his eyes open and looked down at the offending appendage. Watched as the Joker's hand slid up and down, twisting just so, squeezing and pulling. Watched as a thumb swept whisper soft against the head, swirling a small bead of precum. Watched as the muscles of the Joker's abdomen grew taught before relaxing once more. He was close, Bruce could feel it through his own body, setting his nerves and blood on fire.
Before he is even consciously aware of what he is doing Bruce reaches forward and gripping the Joker's wrist in a viselike grip yanks and twists it away from the other mans weeping cock. The Joker jerks forward chasing the loss while at the same time turning a surprised look on the other man. Growling lowly in his throat Bruce takes the opportunity given to him to claim the others mouth, sliding his tongue past painted lips and into a feverish warmth. Relaxing slightly from his instinctively stiff and defensive posture the Joker soon melted into the kiss moaning breathlessly into Bruce's mouth, the fight draining out of his body as he melded once more to the other mans desires.
Withdrawing slightly Bruce nipped at the Joker's bottom lip before once more delving into the warm heat of his mouth, his tongue languidly tracing the rough and uneven scar tissue that lined the inside of the Joker's cheeks. His fingers relaxing their crushing grip on the Joker's wrist as he felt the other man relax once more against him Bruce lazily circled his thumb along the Joker's pulse point, drawing the Joker's hand back and resting it firmly on his own hip, which had stopped its feverish motions the moment Bruce had struck out denying the Joker release.
Keeping a firm grip on the Joker's hand Bruce continued to slowly plunder the others mouth, ignoring the Joker when he shifted his hips back in an attempt to urge Bruce back into motion.
The Joker had slipped his leash.
And Bruce didn't like that.
Not. One. Bit.
With a low frustrated moan the Joker pulled back, gasping breathlessly against Bruce's lips. “Teasing bastard.”
Nipping viciously at the Joker's bottom lip in retaliation Bruce refocuses his efforts on the Joker's neck. Licking and sucking ruthlessly at the sweat slicked skin, determined to leave the Joker with a lasting reminder that he was his. The Joker hummed his appreciation, the sound felt through every point of contact between them, reverberating along Bruce's spine, his own cock twitching with renewed interest in the warm heat of the Joker's body.
Fuck... A shudder running through him Bruce began to once more rock into the Joker's heat. Slow, painfully teasing and deliberate motions he knew would send the other mans body and mind skittering for purchase, leave the other man panting and begging for more. Eyes wondering downward as he continued to ruthlessly devour the other mans skin Bruce let his gaze fall on the Joker's cock, now half hard and twitching with every inward stroke of Bruce's hips.
The Joker arching back into him Bruce released the other mans hand, trailing his fingers up along his arm, across his shoulder to rest momentarily on one prominent shoulder blade, skimming lower along the outer indentations of the Joker's ribs and finally back down to once more rest on the other mans hip, his fingers curling inwards in a talon like grip.
With a sharp snap of his hips Bruce pulled the other man roughly into him, the Joker's breath hitching in a surprised moan as Bruce set a brutal pace, slamming viciously and without mercy into the other mans body. Soon the Joker was once more lost in a litany of feverish moans and supplications, half formed words and breathless laughter.
Through his own feverish haze Bruce heard only one thing clearly, his name.
Bats, Bats, Bats, Bats...
Always with reverence. Always in worship. Whether dancing along the darkened streets and rooftops of Gotham, a sharp blade always ready and never hesitant to stab the object of his veneration or like now, a dance of a different nature, bodies entwined and completely giving himself over, the Joker always and without fail uttered his name like it was something special. Something precious to be treasured and held closely to ones heart.
Losing himself in the motions, the heat and desire, the wanton sounds that filled the air and reverberated through his taunt body Bruce almost didn't notice when the fingers of the Joker's left hand brushed lightly along his hip and snapping out of his trance Bruce surprised even himself with the feral, guttural growl that escaped him.
Digging his fingers hard enough into the flesh of the Joker's hips so as to feel the slight swelling of blood under his nails Bruce hissed into the Joker's ear punctuating each word with a thrust impossibly more brutal and deep than the last. “Do. Not. Move.”
The Joker growled his own response deep in his throat at the command but nevertheless the madman's hand once more laid firmly pressed against Bruce's bucking hip, his long jagged nails skittering light scratches in their wake as his fingers kneaded into the flesh in time with Bruce's movements.
Groaning at the sharp unexpected sting of pain Bruce nipped at the Joker's earlobe, clenching and pulling it tightly between his teeth, eliciting more breathlessly depraved gasps and moans from the other man before once more turning his ministrations to the Joker's already bruised throat, biting into the raw and tender flesh.
Closing his eyes he thought back to when the Joker had pulled against him, had broken the rhythm Bruce had set, in search of his own release. He didn't know why it bothered him so much. It wasn't as if it were the first time the Joker would have reached climax stroking himself while Bruce took him. But for some reason it did. It ate away at Bruce in a way that defied explanation. He only knew that he didn't want the Joker touching himself, didn't want him to reach that state of completion by his own hand, even if it was in combination with Bruce's own attentions.
His eyes slitting open Bruce settled his gaze intently on the Joker's now straining erection, a small bead of precum forming at the slit. No. He wanted the Joker to know it was him and only him that could ever truly bring him that completeness. The Joker had once told the Batman that he completed him and Bruce wanted to show him, to prove to him, that that was true in every sense. That the Joker needed him. That he was his.
The Joker's moans and cries where steadily becoming more breathless, more desperate. His jagged nails embedding themselves deeper and deeper into the flesh of Bruce's hip and scalp. Bruce could feel it, that delicious pressure building in the others body, mirrored in his own flesh. A tightness, electric sharp starting at the bass of his spine and spreading outwards.
Transfixed his eyes remained focused, unblinking, on the Joker's cock as it strained against the other mans abdomen, the muscles constricting and releasing as the pressure in them both continued to build.
Faster. Harder. Sure he was going to tear the other man apart Bruce couldn't stop himself, stop this need that burned through him, consuming everything in its path. Fighting against the urge to close his eyes and let the pleasure that coursed through him pull him under, Bruce tightened his blood slicked grip, continuing to push the threshold between pain and pleasure.
Joker, Joker, Joker, Joker...
The Joker's name, forbidden on his lips, sang like a mantra through his mind, his body growing more taunt as his vision started to grey around the edges. Everything but him and the Joker, their movements, their breathes, the Joker's needy moans and his own unvoiced desperate sobs fading, washed out into the background. All that existed was them and this moment in time.
With a sharp cry the Joker reached climax, his fingers digging brutally in where they clung to Bruce. Bruce's own eyes still transfixed, watched enraptured as warm cum shot out of the Joker's twitching cock, smearing against the Joker's chest as he arched his body back into Bruce. Groaning, screaming the Joker's name into the others flesh, Bruce bit down until the warm coppery taste of blood flooded his mouth, every nerve of his body on fire as he reaches his own release.
Lost to the tremors of electric pleasure that pulses through his veins Bruce tightens his grip on the other, digging his teeth and tongue into the torn flesh of the Joker's shoulder until finally his heart rate starts to slow, his harsh breathing calming as his senses slowly return to him, the room gradually coming back into focus.
The Joker is boneless against him, his body shivering slightly as he continued to breathe in short, shallow gasps. The feeling of the Joker's fingers lazily sifting through the hair at the back his neck filtering in through the haze that still covered his mind, Bruce moaned, turning to brush blood stained lips to whisper against the Joker's throat. Smiling the Joker hummed low in his throat, his hoarse voice cracking slightly as he spoke. “Batman we, ah, we really gatta work on your, hmm... control issues.”
Glowering darkly at the Joker's slightly teasing and amused tone Bruce huffed against the others shoulder, turning his gaze back downwards. Tilting his head slightly Bruce felt a smug grin pull at his lips and gingerly unfurling his stiff and aching fingers from the Joker's hips he smoothed them out against the other mans outer thighs, softly caressing the sweat slicked skin, before trailing them upwards across the Joker's chest to trap the other man against him.
The Joker unperturbed by his situation merely cocked a brow at the other. Rubbing the still warm cum he had trailed his fingers through on their upwards journey across the Joker's chest between his thumb and forefinger Bruce regarded the Joker for a moment before smirking. Bringing his fingers up to the Joker's mouth he painted the other man's crimson bottom lip a milky white. Ignoring the further hitch of the Joker's brow at this Bruce then trailed the back of his knuckles along the Joker's jawline and cupping the back of his neck guided him forward into a kiss.
At the first taste of the Joker's bittersweet semen Bruce bit down harshly on the other man's lip, moaning as the coppery tang of blood filled the space between them. Clenching the Joker's hair between his fingers Bruce jerked the other man forward, uncaring of the awkward angle he forced the Joker's neck into, intent as he was on deepening the kiss.
His senses flooded with the taste of him. The bitterness of the Joker's semen combined with the coppery taste of his blood and the saltiness of his sweat driving Bruce to a fervor. And beneath it all the taste of the man himself; of gasoline and gunpowder, of fear and chaos, of a wicked tongue and equally sinful lips.
His heart speeding up once more Bruce growled lowly into the other man's mouth. Biting and nipping at lips and tongue, stealing the Joker's breathless sighs before they were so much as half formed whispers and in his mind repeated one thought. One truth. Mine.
Smiling against Bruce's lips as the other continued to brutalize his mouth with the single minded intensity of the truly lost and insane the Joker flexed his fingers in the other man's hair, relishing the sweaty dampness of the silky strands and subtly pulled him closer.