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Language:
English
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Published:
2019-03-07
Words:
719
Chapters:
2/2

Love Nest

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Flames shoot upwards; pillars of wood creak as they quickly deteriorate. A detonator tumbles out of the Joker’s left hand. His right hand captures Batman’s fist as he slowly caresses his knuckles. Batman huffs, but complies with the Joker’s unusually gentle pleading. Batman takes the lead as the odd couple escapes the soot and smoke that surrounds them. They tread through the burning remnants with careful swiftness. The exit nears; an obstacle tumbles toward Batman.            The Joker shoves him forward, close to the front door. Joker leaps over the fallen beam to push Batman further. He snatches Batman’s hand; this time he takes charge. As the building turns to simmering cinders, the Joker finishes his daring rescue by tackling Batman to the ground.            “Joker! What were you thinking?” Batman almost growls as he rips the Joker’s hands off of his chest.            “Batsy, I’m hurt! I just saved us; you’re welcome, you know.” The Joker cackles, defiantly caressing Batman’s chest. “I thought I’d, uh, switch things up for a change. Make an excuse for me to be the hero.”            Batman, although distracted by the Joker’s fingertips, scowls and says, “You blew up a building! How could that possibly make you a hero?”            The Joker’s hands fly up in exasperation.            “Come on, you weren’t using it for anything but junk!” Another malicious smirk forms on the Joker’s face. “Well, and for our junk.” He winks.            Batman groans. Joker simply chuckles in return.            “What, you don’t want the rest of Gotham to know about our little love nest? You know, the one that Bruce Wayne just so happens to own?” The Joker’s hands return and trickle down Batman’s chest. “I did you a favor, Brucie.”            Batman seizes the Joker’s hands, shoves him off of his chest, and straddles the Joker.            “Shut up.”            A rough kiss is all it takes to do so.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Batman and the Joker, while wrapped in a somewhat indecent embrace, have to end their tryst before firefighters arrive. Batman, face slightly flushed, stands up and lends a hand to the Joker.     “Aww, done already, Batsy?” Joker doesn’t accept the outstretched hand.     “Joker, this isn’t exactly the time and place.” Batman frowns.     “Says the one who started it,” Joker says, eyebrow raised.     Batman grunts in frustration and forcefully grabs the Joker’s hand, leading them to the Batmobile, which he had parked a few blocks away.     “Now we don’t exactly have a place, thanks to you.”     “Oh, come on, Brucie, you can just build another one.”     Batman stops walking and sighs. “Yes, but that takes time.”     The Joker suddenly grabs Batman from behind, his lips close to Bruce’s face.     “Bruce,” the Joker starts, his voice in a seductive whisper, “I’m not exactly, heh, patient right now. Who knows what I’ll do if we stop?”     Bruce tenses, simultaneously on alert and slightly aroused.     “Damn it, don’t you start.” Bruce reverts to the harsh, low baritone of his Batman persona. Ever since he and the Joker “reconciled,” Bruce used his normal voice around him; the barrier between them finally crumbled. They had an agreement; Bruce gave into his years-long repressed feelings for the clown, and the Joker had stopped committing crimes (or at least major ones, anyway). This accord was tenuous; could it really last? Could the Joker see reason?     The Joker moans. “Oh Batsy, that’s more like it.”     Bruce fights the urge to facepalm. I should have known that would turn him on, he thinks.     “Fine.” Bruce glares at him. “Come with me.”     “Mmm, I can’t wait to.” The Joker smiles and allows Batman to guide them back to the Batmobile. Bruce’s grip is tight; the Joker relishes it. When the two reach the car, Batman unceremoniously shoves the Joker inside. As soon as Bruce lands in the driver’s seat, he shoots off, driving toward Gotham’s outskirts. Bruce is silent; Joker just stares at him, anticipation filling his veins. Skyscrapers fade to stone buildings, and eventually, empty fields. The cacophonous hubbub of the city dissolves into calming cricket chirps. Their silence becomes awkward; desire continues to flare up in the two men, yet they can’t seem to manage a word. Their only interactions are the fleeting glances Bruce takes into the Joker’s eyes when they sit at ridiculously slow red lights.     Bruce drives until the stars are the only lights above them.

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