Chapter Text
Bruce finds the camshow on Riddler’s website behind three riddles, a fake 404 page, and a paywall for an extravagant sum. Bruce doesn’t think twice before paying it, hoping that Alfred doesn’t look through his bank statements anytime soon. Although, Alfred will probably just be pleased that Bruce is doing something normal by watching pornography.
The website wants Bruce to give a username, and he hesitates before typing in BATMAN.
<<WRONG!>>
Bruce frowns, and types it in again.
<<YOU’RE NOT BATMAN ;)>>
Bruce grinds his teeth together, and then types in a different name.
<<WELCOME, THOMAS39>>
The cam show has been running for ten minutes according to the timer on the screen, and the star of the show is the Riddler himself, sitting on a bed on the centre of the screen, dressed in full costume. Bruce clenches his fists automatically as his eyes roam over Riddler’s body, the way he’s lounging on the bed, the casual way he holds himself.
Bruce is always uptight in his own costume, a legacy to protect. Batman feels like a separate part of his psyche, an upstanding citizen of Gotham who doesn’t experience curiosity, or lust. It’s why Bruce is currently sitting in the bat cave in his sweatpants and an old Nirvana shirt covered in toothpaste.
There’s a chat box on the right hand side of the screen, and anonymous messages are spilling through, commenting all sorts of disgusting things. Bruce reads through them, pretending that he’s not affected by the mentions about the Riddler’s physique.
<<When is he going to strip?>>
<<Anyone else realising they got a mask fetish lol>>
“Hey guys.” Riddler says, eyes tracking the messages appearing on screen. “I’m just waiting for a couple more people to join and then we’ll start the show.”
<<Who are we waiting for?>>
“I invited the Batman.” Riddler says, and Bruce freezes. “Doesn’t look like he’s going to show up.”
<<Is he going 2 B on screen anytime soon?>>
Riddler reads the message and laughs. “I wish.”
Riddler slides a hand between his legs, stroking himself through his trousers. He tips his head back, and Bruce goes bright red as he moans. He stares off into the darkness of Riddler’s room determinedly, listening to the sounds through his headphones of Riddler touching himself through his cargo pants.
“Maybe if I ask nicely, he’ll come to one of my shows.” Riddler says breathlessly. “I’ll leave him a clue.”
Bruce almost feels like he’s tricked Riddler, one step ahead. He allows himself to look at Riddler’s body, the way his toes are curling as he touches himself. Bruce’s mouth is dry, and he swallows hard.
To distract himself, he starts clicking around on the website. On the left-hand side, there’s a tip button. Bruce presses it, clicking through the options until a loud bell sounds and the phrase THOMAS39 HAS TIPPED $15 scrolls across the screen.
“Thank you Thomas39.” Riddler says. “Much appreciated.”
Bruce feels a little flush of pleasure at Riddler saying his name, even if it’s only an alias. He’s previously only heard Riddler drawl out Batman’s name on crackly police footage.
“If you guys want to send gifts, I have a PO BOX listed in the FAQ.” Riddler says. “If there’s anything you want to see me wear... or fit inside myself.”
He wriggles on the bed, and Bruce wonders if he’s playing with a toy right now. His hands hesitate over the keyboard, and then he types a message quickly before he can stop himself.
<<Are You Wearing A Plug?>>
Riddler reads the message, and then shakes his head.
“Not today.” He says, and then spreads his legs for the camera. “I want my pussy fucked tonight.”
Before Bruce can ask him to elaborate, there’s the sound off screen of a door being opened, and then slammed shut. Riddler sits up excitedly, smoothing down the front of his costume. Bruce is curious who the visitor is, who Riddler has roped into his plan. Do they know, the people that Riddler has killed? Are they scared of him? Do they want to do this?
“You’re home.” Riddler says happily, and Oswald Cobblepot steps into view.
“Fuck.” Bruce swears, and it echoes around the cave.
Cobblepot must have come straight from the Iceberg Lounge, wearing a suit, suspenders, and dress shoes. He’s not taller than Riddler, but he is broader, wider, filling up the frame of the screen. The comment section starts going wild, and Bruce realises that Cobblepot is a repeat customer.
“Hey sweetheart.” Cobblepot says, and Riddler giggles in the back of his throat, bouncing upright. “Miss me?”
“Yeah.” Riddler rubs his face into the crook of Cobblepot’s neck. “Chat missed you too.”
“Oh did they?” Cobblepot looks directly down the lens of the camera and Bruce shivers at the intensity of his gaze. “Hello... chat.”
Bruce wonders if Cobblepot understands the technology side of things, or if he’s just interested in the opportunity to fuck Riddler on camera. The image of Cobblepot pounding Riddler from behind fills Bruce’s brain, and his cock jumps to attention. He presses his palm against it, forcing it down. This is just business.
Riddler is looking over his shoulder at the chat box, reading through comments. “They’re getting impatient.”
<<COBBLEPOT TIME BAYBEEEE>>
<<When will a dilf fuck me :(>>
“So am I.” Oswald rests a hand on Riddler’s hip, squeezing tightly. “I’ve had a hard day at work.”
“Kill anyone?” Riddler asks.
“Without you there to watch?” Oswald grins with crooked teeth. “Of course not.”
He pushes Riddler down to the floor, who kneels obediently. Bruce bites the skin on his thumb as he watches Oswald remove Riddler’s glasses from his mask. It’s gentle, caring even, as Oswald sets the glasses on the bedside cabinet.
“What do you want?” Oswald asks.
“Everything.” Riddler breathes, and Oswald slaps him hard.
The sound echoes around the room, and Riddler’s head snaps backwards with the force of it. Bruce holds his breath, watching as Riddler turns back to face Oswald.
“Harder.” Riddler says.
Oswald backhands him instead, his ring catching across the mask. It tears the latex slightly, revealing a slash of pale white skin, and Riddler moans, grinding his thighs together. Bruce can’t drag his eyes away from the exposure of flesh, the reveal that underneath the costume, Riddler is a living breathing person.
“Whore.” Oswald says. He takes hold of Riddler by the chin, turns him towards the camera. “What do the viewers think?”
<<Whore>>
<<Slut>>
<<Riddler needs breeding>>
“They think you’re a slut.” Oswald says, and Riddler smiles as if it’s high praise. “I think you’re a disgusting little freak.”
“Mmm.” Riddler rubs his face against Oswald’s hand and Oswald gives him another light smack.
Bruce squirms in his seat. He feels like he’s intruding in something private, cock twitching when Riddler nudges Oswald’s hand.
“What do you want?” Oswald asks
Riddler mumbles something that neither Bruce nor Oswald hear.
“What was that?” Oswald asks. “Speak louder.”
“I want you to fuck me.” Riddler says. His pupils are blown wide like a drophead.
“Magic word?” Oswald asks.
“Now.” Riddler demands, and Oswald knocks him flying.
Bruce starts in his seat, the abruptness of it almost scaring him. The chat are screaming about how fuckable Riddler is, how he needs to be taught a lesson, and Bruce stares, willing Riddler to get up.
Riddler pushes himself up on his hands and knees, and Oswald shoves him back down again.
“Stay on the floor where you belong.” He orders.
Riddler whines, high pitched. “Please-“
“I don’t remember giving you permission to talk.” Oswald barks.
Bruce’s cock twitches at the order. He slips one hand underneath his sweatpants, holding his cock in his hands, trying to argue that watching the screen is for educational purposes. This is helpful in his fight for justice, Bruce argues to himself as he watches Oswald rub his clothed dick against Riddler’s ass.
“You’re disgusting.” Oswald says, grinding against Riddler. “Aren’t you?”
“Mnfh.” Riddler moans into the floor. He’s half thrusting against the floorboards, and Bruce can’t take his eyes off the thrust of his hips.
“Speak.”
“I’m disgusting.” Riddler whines, “I’m so gross. Just- fuck me please.”
Oswald slaps Riddler’s ass, and then yanks Riddler’s trousers down, revealing dark green hipster underwear. Bruce frowns, peering closer at the screen, because there isn’t the bulge that Bruce expected.
“You’re so wet.” Oswald says. “You want this, huh? Want to be taken apart?”
“Mmm.” Riddler says dreamily, spreading his thighs apart so that Oswald can thrust two fingers inside of him.
Oh.
Bruce feels like an idiot for not realising sooner, but then again, he supposes that’s the point. The Riddler is male, but the person behind the mask? Bruce isn’t sure. He tends not to think too hard about gender things, or else thoughts creep into his mind that he doesn’t like.
Riddler doesn’t look like a girl though. He looks like a young man, and although the voice box makes his voice deeper, he still sounds masculine. Oswald treats him like a man too, as do the rest of the chat.
<<I love boy pussy>>
<<He doesn’t deserve to cum>>
“Fuck you’re tight.” Oswald’s voice has dropped about an octave. “Look at you.”
He roughly fucks Riddler’s cunt with his middle and index finger, digits shiny with pre-come. Riddler is gasping with every thrust, face pressed into the carpet as Oswald fucks him. Oswald’s cock is straining through his trousers, and Bruce can tell he’s reaching the end of his limit, that Oswald just wants to fuck Riddler over the bed.
“I’m close.” Riddler whines, and Oswald tuts.
“Already? You fucking whore.”
“Mmm.” Riddler clenches around Oswald. “Yours.”
Oswald slides another finger inside of Riddler, crooking them slightly to make Riddler cry out. Riddler is thrusting himself back on Oswald’s fingers, squelching noises filling the air with how wet he is.
“Oh fuck.” Riddler gasps out, body shaking, and Oswald laughs.
“Orgasm number 1.” He says. “Slut.”
Riddler mumbles something into the carpet, riding out the waves of his orgasm on Oswald’s fingers. Oswald doesn’t let up his pace, and Riddler clenches around him, over stimulated and drooling.
Bruce is so hard that it’s painful.
He wants-
He needs-
He doesn’t know if he wants to be Oswald or Riddler, doesn’t know if he wants to be the one humping the floor like a bitch in heat, or the one finger fucking Riddler’s cunt. He wants to be in the middle, with hands touching him and a mouth around his cock.
Bruce wraps his hand around himself, and it’s been months since he last jerked off, and the last time was because he had a migraine so that doesn’t even count. He feels hot in his hand, burning, and he spits down onto himself for lubrication.
Oswald pulls his soaked fingers out of Riddler and sucks them clean. He yanks Riddler up off the floor, who lets himself be roughly moved and thrown onto the bed. as Oswald peers at the chat.
“How do you want me to fuck him?” He asks, and the replies come flooding in.
<<On his knees.>>
<<Over the desk>>
<<On your lap pwease>>
Bruce types one handed, cursing the fact that he’s had no practise doing this.
<<I Want To See You Fuck Him On His Back. Please.>>
“You hear this Eddie?” Oswald says. “Someone wants you on your back looking at my ugly mug.”
Bruce’s breath hitches as Oswald unzips his trousers, dropping them to the floor and then kicking them off. He’s got silk boxers on underneath and Bruce can see the outline of a thick cock. His mouth waters.
Oswald climbs onto the bed, looming over Riddler. He runs his hands up the length of Riddler’s legs, and then pulls him sharply towards him, so that Riddler is underneath him. Riddler giggles nervously, and Oswald gives him his fingers to suck.
“Relax sweetheart.” Oswald purrs. “I’m going to make you feel good.”
Oswald takes his cock out of his boxers, and its exactly what Bruce hoped, thick and swollen under the lights of Riddler’s cam set up. He rubs the head against Riddler’s cunt, watching as Riddler clenches around nothing, and then thrusts himself inside, one hand settled on Riddler’s hip for balance.
The three men moan.
“Fuck.” Oswald tips his head back. “You’re a good little slut, aren’t you?”
Riddler moans, turning his head to look at the camera. Bruce feels like he’s looking directly at him, and continues to jerk himself off, staring directly into Riddler’s face. Oswald works a hand between their bodies, rests the flat palm of his hand over Riddler’s stomach as he fucks him.
“I can feel my cock inside you.” Oswald says, increasing the pace of his thrusts. “You feel real fucking good.”
“I always feel good.” Riddler says, and Oswald slaps him.
“You’re just a hole.” Oswald grunts out. “You’re a pretty hole, but you’re a hole all the same.”
“Fuck.” Riddler sobs out, wrapping his legs around Oswald’s broad back and pulling him close.
Bruce can’t drag his eyes away from them, jerking himself in time to Oswald’s thrusts. His toes are curling underneath the desk, biting down on his bottom lip as he watches Riddler get fucked. The noises that the two men are making are sending sparks all the way down Bruce’s body, Oswald’s grunts of pleasure and Riddler’s high pitched whines.
Oswald moves his hand from Riddler’s stomach and instead up to Riddler’s throat. He wraps his fist around Riddler’s neck, and Riddler arches his body off the bed in pleasure. Bruce grabs his own throat with his free hand, squeezing tightly. He closes his eyes for a moment, imagining Oswald’s hand there instead, and then opens his eyes at Riddler’s whimpers.
“I can’t-“ Riddler gasps, “I can’t breathe.”
“Not my problem.” Oswald says, and Riddler kicks at him. “Make a choice.”
“Neh-“ Riddler gasps for air.
“Make a choice.” Oswald repeats. “My hand or the mask.”
“The mask.” Riddler blurts out. “The mask, the mask – I want your hand.”
“Whore.” Oswald says, and unclips the latex mask from Riddler’s face, peeling it off his skin.
Bruce leans in, eyes slightly cross-eyed with pleasure to try and catch a glimpse of the real Riddler. Underneath the mask there’s a flushed boyish face, swollen lips, and wet eyelashes. Bruce tries to think if he’s seen him before, but his mind is stupid with pleasure, and he finds he doesn’t care.
“There we go.” Oswald croons. “Can you breathe now?”
He presses his hand down harder on Riddler’s throat, and Riddler chokes out for breath. His eyes roll back into his head, and he squeezes his legs tighter around Oswald.
“Is that a yes?” Oswald asks.
Riddler nods, unable to speak. His body trembles again as his orgasm rushes through him and Oswald drops his forehead down against Riddler’s own.
“Fuck you feel so good when you come.” He says. “No wonder everyone passes you around the club.”
Bruce thinks of Riddler on his hands and knees for the lowlifes of Gotham and grinds his teeth together, because he wants it to be him, he wants to be the one that makes Riddler come. He thinks of Riddler in the Wayne mansion, tied to his bed, begging for it. The thought almost makes him come on the spot, and he has to bite his bottom lip to stop himself.
He tastes blood.
It tastes good.
There are hundreds of messages spilling onto the chat screen, but they’ve been forgotten, Oswald and Riddler only with eyes for each other. Bruce feels like he’s there in the room with them, sitting on the edge of the bed, touching himself to the rock of their bodies.
“I’m gonna come inside you.” Oswald groans into Riddler’s neck. “I’m gonna fill you up like you deserve.”
“Please.” Riddler gasps out. “I want to be used.”
“Just a fucking cum dump.” Oswald growls, “We should let everyone in Gotham use you.”
“Mmm,” Riddler whines. “I want Batman to use me.”
The words send Bruce over the edge, and he comes hard over his fist in three short spurts. He throws his head back in the office chair, panting with the force of it, the image of Batman fucking Riddler taking over his brain.
Would it be at a crime scene? Riddler begging not to be taken into custody, and Batman would bend him over the nearest object and fuck him until Riddler couldn’t walk, just so grateful not to be arrested. Or – Riddler breaking into the Batmobile, hiding on the back seat, and letting Batman use him in exchange for information.
Batman doesn’t fuck, Bruce tries to tell himself, but it’s no use. He can’t keep a hand off himself, continuing to jerk his cock until the point of over stimulation, shaking in the chair with the pressure of it. When he raises his head, he watches Oswald stutter inside Riddler, grunting out something that sounds like Edward.
Bruce feels dizzy, wiping his hand on the front of his shirt, offering a silent apology to Kurt Cobain. He can’t drag his eyes away from Riddler’s final orgasm, the way the man cries out, arching his body up off the bed, Oswald still buried deep inside of him.
They pull apart stickily, Oswald tucking himself back inside his boxers. The casualness of it all makes Bruce’s cock give a half-hearted twitch, the idea that Oswald will just go back to work and leave Riddler a ruined mess on the bed.
“Clean yourself up.” Oswald says hoarsely.
“Mmm.” Riddler says happily. He spreads his legs open and slides his fingers inside himself, Oswald’s come coating his digits.
Bruce watches with sick fascination as Riddler sucks his fingers clean, eyes fluttering shut. Oswald gives a low chuckle, runs his hands through Riddler’s mop of brown hair. Riddler looks completely fucked out, but Bruce wants to touch him, wants to see how many times he can come in such a short space of time.
“Good boy.” Oswald says. “I should hire you out at the port, earn a few more bucks.”
“Like you’d be able to share me.” Riddler says, and Oswald rubs his thumb over Riddler’s flushed mouth.
“You’d be surprised how mean I can be.”
“Is that a promise?” Riddler asks, and Oswald shoves Riddler back down onto the bed, Riddler giggling all the while.
Oswald staggers over to the camera, frowning at the messages coming through. There are thousands of dollars streaming in from fans, and a few photographs of come splattered across desktops.
Bruce leans forward and donates a ridiculous amount of money without even thinking about it. Oswald sucks in his teeth when he sees the amount, and shakes his head.
“You got some sick fans here Riddler.” He says. “Pays to be a whore.”
“Next time, they’ll be toys.” Riddler says, lazily touching himself. “I want to be knotted.”
Lust flickers across Oswald’s face, and he reaches out towards the screen.
“I’m ending this.” He says. “So I can fuck him again, and leave you all wanting more.”
<<How dare you :(>>
<<I want to see Riddler top Penguin>>
<<I’m going to buy y’all a bad dragon>>
“See you next time!” Riddler calls, starting to strip off the top part of his costume.
Bruce catches sight of more bare flesh, and bruises from Oswald’s hands. He wants to kiss them all better, explore Riddler’s body with his tongue.
“Bye.” Oswald says bluntly, and ends the stream.
Bruce stares at the black screen, chest still rising up and down as he tries to regain normal breathing.
He’s going to buy the Riddler so many toys.