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Sneaking into a country club wasn’t on Joker’s to-do list for the day, but it is honestly way more fun than his original plans to run errands. Besides, somehow he always loses the list anyway, causing him to have to try to remember what it was he was going to get done. He’ll get distracted by something wild, silly, or shiny and all his plans for the day get completely derailed. Usually that means he ends up with a pair of new heels, going for a swim in the Gotham Harbor, or trying that new Thai place that opened in the old fabric store Joker robbed a few months ago.
Oh, Mary-Ann’s, how greatly missed you are! Joker swears he’ll never find such soft, perfect purple fabric ever again. It really is a shame Ms. Mary-Ann herself closed up shop after the hostage situation Joker had her and her patrons in, but is it truly his fault? She jacked up the prices! He swears she only did it because she knew he was purchasing all the purple in her store.
With such a scattered brain, a to-do list is very important when he needs to get shit done. It’s Friday and at the top of the list for the day is securing some very crucial tools and supplies he has for a “job”. He was a man on a mission, on his way to get what he needed and that’s when he first heard about it. While strolling down the Fashion District, he passed by a group of rich old ladies, with the gaudiest looking designer bags he might add, yapping about a new country club that just opened. The conversation made him stop dead in his tracks, ears perking up and became instantly engrossed. He stands idly nearby trying to feign window shopping while trying to eavesdrop as best he can. Somehow he got a gut feeling that this was the place for him to drop by, that he was meant to be there. Plus it sounded like it could use a clown's touch and who is he to resist such an opportunity!
So he does a little more digging of his own back at his hideout. He pieces together what he overheard from the old rich ladies and with some additional research online, he was able to get the address. While changing into more dressier attire, he formulates a plan of his own. It’s nothing too complicated: just pop in and get a lay of the land and scope for any freebies. If it attracts the kind of crowd he’s hoping for, he may just take advantage of them too. It’s a win-win all around for Joker.
Sneaking in wasn’t too hard. Joker's method of just sauntering in like you owned the place worked quite well as no one really paid him too much attention. There he is in his new purple floppy hat and movie star shades meandering about until he notices a bulletin board that outlined the events they were hosting this week. Perfect. This Saturday they were hosting a dinner party for all the new members, it's exactly the kind of event Joker wanted to insert himself in. The location of the dinner party is listed as TBA but that more details would be shared with all members closer to the day of. All the more reason to stay and try to get more info since the party is happening sometime tomorrow.
What kind of welcome party would it be without a welcoming party clown?
It’s very busy inside the clubhouse, allowing Joker to slip past any employees and head to the back of the building where he hears plenty of chatter. His eyes zero in on the large buffet spread in the loud room he assumes is some kind of dining hall. The stolen wedge heels Joker has on clack against the marble floor as he makes his way over, but the sound is drowned out by the many conversations around him and the four-string quartet in the corner of the room. He skips over the shellfish––he doesn’t fancy an allergic reaction today––and homes in on the desserts. Pastries, puddings, strawberries and chocolate fondue… oh, yeah, Joker could get used to this.
He fixes the strap of his royal purple sundress and begins loading up his tiny plate. From where he’s standing, he can see through the large wooden double doors and into the back of the lobby, where the floor-ceiling glass windows present a view of the acres and acres of golf courses. Joker rolls his eyes. Rich people are the biggest joke of them all.
Though, he supposes this isn’t too bad, he thinks as a waiter offers him a mimosa. He flashes a wide, dazzling smile and takes the champagne flute. The waiter does a double take, appearing flustered and nervous, before correcting his features and hurries away to another guest. Oh, yes, a girl could get used to this.
Through the double doors, Joker spots two men enter the clubhouse from the back doors that lead to the golf course. One man appears in the later stage of middle-aged, heavier set and talking animatedly to the other, younger man with broad shoulders and dark hair. The younger man’s baby blue eyes clue Joker in that this handsome devil that just returned from the spring heat is none other than Gotham City’s favorite billionaire orphan Bruce Wayne.
Joker downs the rest of his mimosa, dumps his treats in the clutch he brought with him (he’s not letting a good dessert go to waste!), and places the empty glass on one of the waiters’ trays that circles past him. He exits the dining hall, eager to eavesdrop on Wayne’s conversation with this other rich asshole, and hopes he can get a little information on the dinner party Saturday. Wayne’s a ladies man, so maybe Joker can flirt some information out of him. It wouldn’t be the first time he used his feminine wiles to trick someone into giving up vital info. He definitely wouldn’t mind using them on Bruce Wayne of all people.
They make their way to the men’s locker room. Joker looks both ways before following them in. Sure he technically is a man (or something), but right now he’s presenting as a woman, and he doesn’t want to blow his cover just yet.
For sure, this bathroom has got to be the best men’s room Joker’s ever seen. There’s a loveseat positioned against the wall with a coffee table in front of it, and a floor-length mirror across from it. There’s carpet on the ground where the seating is, before shifting to a pristine, clean, white and black marble. The toilet stalls are wooden with a shiny finish, and go all the way to the ground, ensuring full coverage. There are also shower cabins with beautiful patterned curtains, and the lockers are the same light wood that the toilet stalls are. Joker presses against the wall, leaning his head slightly forward to peer around the entrance to where the men were changing. Wayne and the old man are still conversing––or, more like Wayne is being talked at by the man––
“I’m telling you, Bruce, you got to check out that sauna. Should be perfect for those tense muscles,” the man laughs. He claps Wayne on the back. “I’d join but I’m running late to a meeting at the office.”
A sauna? My, oh, my, can Joker’s day get any better?
Wayne chuckles. “I’ll take your word for it, Mr. Harrington.”
“Trust me, Wayne, you won’t regret it.”
Joker hears some rustling and a bag zipping up. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening, right? For the welcome party?”
The party! Joker tilts his head so he can hear even better. Wayne responds, “I think I can fit it in my schedule.”
The old man, Mr. Hairy Tongue or whatever the hell it was, snorts out a laugh. “Oh, the life of a young socialite! Have a great rest of your day, Bruce!”
“You as well, Mr. Harrington,” the playboy says back. Harrington? Joker could’ve sworn he said Hairy Tongue. That’s a funnier name anyway, he should change it. He could make a whole bit around it, glue some hair on his tongue, or hell, even grow some, Joker’s sure some scientist in Gotham can do that for him, there’s a bunch of crazy doctors here––
Hairy Tongue rounds the corner, causing Joker to jerk back and push himself as flat as he can against the wall. The man doesn’t even notice the over six foot tall woman decked head to toe in purple, he just casually strolls right out the locker room door. Ha! These idiots. They deserve to be blown up this weekend.
Joker peeks around the corner again. Wayne is standing with a towel around his waist. Holy moly, this foofy rich boy is jacked! Can golf create a physique like this? Joker thinks back to Hairy Tongue and giggles. Wayne definitely did not gain these muscles from swinging a golf club.
Those well defined pecks, perfect 6 pack, along with a gorgeous face like that? Why it’s enough to make any woman swoon, Joker himself included.
He sees the billionaire tighten the towel around his waist and head down the row of lockers. Joker takes another peek around to make sure one else is around before he follows after him. Suddenly he smacks himself on his forehead.
Joker, you bimbo! The shoes!
The element of surprise is something he thrives on and he would hate to spoil it this early. It wouldn’t do to scare off Wayne too soon.
No, good things come to those who wait. Plus, Joker has a good feeling about the guy. He has to give up the goods!
He slips the wedges off and throws them and his clutch in a random open locker. He makes a mental note to come back for those later.
He keeps walking until he sees a sign on the wall that says “Sauna” with an arrow pointing in its direction.
Catching Wayne in the Sauna? Joker knows he’s truly hit the jackpot today. He’ll go catch Wayne unawares, charm the man into giving up the info he wants and he’ll be on his merry way. Hell, who knows. Maybe he’ll do more than charm him. The way he’s feeling right now, he’s practically vibrating with crazed energy. Perhaps it's all the sugar and alcohol in his system talking but he doesn’t care. He’s a clown on a mission.
The room from floor to ceiling is all white marble, making the room so much brighter than it should be. Joker almost jumps with joy when he sees a hot tub behind a glass wall to his right. It’s so very tempting to jump right in there and soak his weary bones but that's not what he’s here for.
Past the hot tub is a wall of wooden paneling and a door with a small see through glass window. He doesn’t see Wayne around so he’s probably already in there. Joker swoons again thinking about seeing that ripped and positively delectable form up close and personal.
Get a grip, Joker. You’re here to get the deets on that party dinner!
With that, he lets his sundress fall in a pool of fabric at his feet. He snatches a towel from the counter and with a quick glance at the mirror behind him, Joker makes his move.
——————————————————————
Bruce rests his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. He allows himself to drift into the relatively tranquil atmosphere. He lets his shoulders and arms go lax, letting the tension and stress from the last couple of days roll off him. He tries to empty his mind of all the things that have been picking at his subconscious as of late. Besides it’s nothing but happy thoughts down here right?
Harrington kept going on and on about the sauna so here he is. If he was honest with himself, he’s only here so he’s not forced to interact with everyone else out there.
Socializing as Bruce Wayne is so exhausting and there’s only so much he can take before he has the urge to bang his head against the nearest wall. Alfred forcing him to make an appearance was hard enough with him trying to fit it into his packed schedule.
He reaches over to pour more water over the rocks and the hissing sound of steam fills the room. The heat quickly builds but he embraces it, knowing this is something his body sorely needs. Harrington wasn’t kidding about this place.
Bruce is no stranger to spending time alone with his thoughts. While it can be helpful, given the right setting, it might not be the healthiest thing considering the one person who has been occupying it as of late.
Joker has been nothing but a nuisance for the past several weeks. Erratic behavior is nothing new with him, it's just the type of behavior that he’s been exhibiting that's become worrisome. Robbing Mary Ann’s a few months ago, taking a local news reporter hostage and then there was the time a few weeks ago where he had to haul a semi naked Joker from Gotham Harbour. Why he was half clothed in the first place, he’ll never know. Joker was just a little too happy to be dragged out by a scowling Batman. He wasn’t even really breaking any major laws but back to Arkham he went.
He finds himself scowling again as thoughts of Joker fill his mind once more. He mentally scolds himself, saunas are supposed to be therapeutic and stress free. It’s like Joker has seeped into every single crevice of his life. He’s bleeding through all the cracks of Bruce’s psyche. He’d be out hosting a grand charity event and while he's publicly reciting a well practiced speech, it's Joker that sits perched on high in his mind. It’s become increasingly distressing and he can only hope this obsession distraction won't cost him dearly in the future.
He takes a long sigh and closes his eyes again only to hear the soft click of the door opening and the padding sounds of footsteps. Bruce frowns; he was hoping to have the room to himself. So much for that, he laments.
He makes up his mind to leave but before he can get up and do anything about it, he hears a familiar voice. It jolts him into full on alert mode.
“Mind if I have a seat?” Bruce recognizes that lilting, sing-song voice all too well.
He catches himself before he can react. He has to remember he’s Bruce Wayne and not Batman. It doesn’t stop his jaw from dropping in shock.
“It's not nice to hog the whole room to yourself. Ever heard of sharing, Mr. Wayne?”
His hair is already a loose frizzy mop of damp curls and his make up is already starting to run. He looks like a painting that's starting to melt but that's not the thing that disturbs him. It's the very short towel that's tied around his too skinny waist that has him downright oogling.
Bruce stops gawping at the man. He closes his jaw shut while clearing his throat because he’s truly at a loss for words. Eventually he scoots over, giving Joker room as he sits down. He settles in with his back against the wall, his knees spread apart while his arms rest on top of the leveled wooden plank attached to the wall behind him. While this is not the first time he’s seen Joker in a state of undress, it's jarring to be in the same room with him like this. It’s like putting together two puzzle pieces that don’t fit, no matter how much you force them.
He takes a breather to assess the situation as calmly as he can.
Joker’s taken to crossing his fingers and positioning them behind his head, while whistling a tune that does nothing but irritate Bruce even more.
He's stuck in a sauna with the Joker with no weapons. As much as he would like to beat the living daylights out of him and ship him off to Arkham again, he can’t do that as Bruce Wayne. He mulls over all the different scenarios that end with Joker in handcuffs while not pointing any suspicion towards himself but none of them work.
Bruce can’t stand the awkwardness nor the damn whistling any longer. He figures he should say something; anything to break the weird tension in the room. It doesn’t help that he catches Joker sneaking little peeks at him. Anytime Bruce tries to subtly move his head in Joker’s direction, the clown turns the other way and whistles even louder.
Time to break the ice then.
“So, um, come here often?”
Bruce winces as soon as the words leave his mouth. He hates that it sounds like some lame attempt at a hookup. Usually anyone who is not Joker would most likely take him up on that offer but that's not what he meant at all. He certainly didn’t mean that with him.
But Joker keeps staring and it's starting to get super uncomfortable.
“I just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I’d pop in and see what all the hub-bub was about.”
Bruce gives a light chuckle, knowing damn well he didn’t just happen to be in the neighborhood.
“Uh yes, the club is pretty nice. They really pulled out all the stops for this one.” Bruce hopes he sounds as composed as he’s pretending to be.
“Hmm, yes. I can see that.”
Bruce turns to face Joker only to find him looking straight at him. Green eyes meet his own and he’ll be damned if he’ll let Joker stare him down.
“So what's next for you after this? Got some killer prank planned for later? Are you going to blow us all up? At least give me the heads up if you’re gonna do that.” He holds his hands up and laughs, praying Joker buys the airhead socialite act.
Joker erupts in laughter, startling Bruce. “My reputation does proceed me! But alas, no. I’m not here on business, this is strictly for pleasure.” He winks at him and it's troubling that it doesn’t necessarily make Bruce want to run for the hills. Despite his mixed emotions, he knows Joker isn’t here for so-called pleasure. He knows him too damn well to believe he would be here for recreational purposes, especially in a high profile place like this. Bruce is in full blown detective mode with his mind going through all the possible reasons Joker would be here. There’s only one reason that makes sense and if proven correct, could spell disaster for everyone in this building.
He can’t let Joker know he suspects anything. So he sits back and lets Joker wink at him with that overtly flirty gaze of his. It’s one he’s given to Batman many times before. It’s troubling to be on the other end of it as Bruce Wayne because Bruce Wayne would normally not turn down such attention.
Could it be that he’s actually enjoying it?
“But I'm sure you know all about that! With a physique like yours, no wonder you made a beeline for the sauna. Gotta keep that hot bod fit and trim.” He can’t believe Joker is actually flirting with him and yet he’s not running away in disgust.
“Y-yes, I try to be as active as I can.”
“Very very active from what I can tell,” Joker’s eyes roam over him again.
Before Bruce can think of something to steer away the direction of this increasingly uneasy conversation, Joker interjects again.
”Those sure are some very interesting scars you got there, Mr. Wayne. Sorry, for being nosy but I couldn’t help but notice.”
Joker flashes an innocent smile but Bruce is already in panic mode. Time to pull out one of the many tried and true excuses he saves for questions like this. So no need to freak out just yet right?
“Spelunking is one of my favorite hobbies. My doctor says I should take it easy but I guess it comes with the territory.” Bruce says as he gestures to the scars on his arms and chest.
Joker crosses his arms, eyes going wide as if he’s not quite sure he believes what Bruce is selling. He wants to believe that Joker’s exaggerating, putting on a show but there’s a part of him that starts to worry. He knows Joker is not dumb, he could figure it out.
“You like to explore caves?” The skepticism in his tone is more than obvious.
Bruce replies with as much of the confident Bruce Wayne Billionaire playboy swagger as he can muster, “Yes.”
Joker squints at him and Bruce is already calculating how much time he would have to escape if he knocked him out and called the police on him. Could he make it to the exit in one piece?
“Perchance, have you seen any bats down there?”
“Bats? No.”
“I was just wondering is all.” Joker shrugs as he settles back against the wall, seemingly losing interest. Relief washes over Bruce, the knot in stomach starting to loosen up. However, it might be too early to celebrate.
“I heard from a little birdie there’s a super exclusive dinner party happening. I figured you would be in the know with the rest of the rich fat pigs here. I want in.”
Ah, there it is.
”I think that event is for members only. I don’t—“
“Oh come on, Brucie. Now that we’re such good pals, I figured you would do the friendly thing and share the info. Spread the wealth, as they say.”
Bruce leans over, hands gripping the edge of the wooden bench. He’s pouring with sweat, his shoulders bunched up and tense. The feelings of anxiety and dread he was hoping to leave behind when he entered the sauna have returned ten-fold.
“I can make it worth your while.”
It takes a while for the meaning to register. He blinks in confusion until it sinks in.
“Wait a minute, you can’t be serious?”
Joker shifts to cross one leg over the other making the short towel ride higher. Bruce has a full view of a pale white thigh and while he knows he should look away, he doesn’t. Were his legs always this long and shapely?
“I believe we each have something the other wants. Think of it as a mere exchange of goods.” Joker’s words are full of his usual brand of bravado. He’s always been a man who's never been shy about what he wants. Whatever he wants, he gets.
This time Joker has his sights set on Bruce Wayne.
“So what do you say, handsome?”
Bruce’s eyes land back on Joker’s exposed thigh and trail upwards. Joker’s body, much like his own, is riddled with scars and old faded bruises. It’s like both of their bodies each tell a story. A shared story of pain and violence that the both of them only understand.
But it isn’t Batman that's here with Joker, it's Bruce Wayne. And Bruce Wayne can’t tear his eyes away from the body that not only tempts him into violence but to other darker vices.
He shouldn’t be looking at all or even considering what Joker is proposing. He feels sick. Maybe he’s been in the sauna for too long.
It starts with a touch on his thigh. Joker's hand slowly creeps further under his towel and massages Bruce’s inner thigh.
Bruce’s stopped breathing. His hands grip the edge of the bench so hard his knuckles turn white and his heart is beating so fast he could have a heart attack. Bruce’s entire body is starting to heavily perspire and he’s not sure if it's because of the sauna or Joker’s mere presence. Him being in such close proximity with so very little clothing between the both of them.
If Joker goes any further he’s afraid he won't be able to say no.
Joker slides closer, his face hovering into Bruce’s personal space but he’s waiting. As if he’s waiting for permission. It's cruel how he puts it in Bruce’s hands like this. He won’t ever be able to live this down.
Joker rubs small circles against the sweat soaked skin of Bruce’s thigh, blurring the edges of his resolve.
“It’s ok, Brucie. You look tense, don’t you wanna let off some steam?”
Bruce is already half hard when Joker cups him entirely. Even though they’re both soaked in sweat, Joker’s hands somehow feel cool to the touch. Bruce lets out a shaky breath as his hand encloses around Bruce’s length with the added moisture of the room making everything even more wet and slick.
It feels so good Bruce wants to scream but he can’t so he does the next best thing. He reaches to pull Joker forward by the neck and their lips finally meet in a sloppy kiss.
Their mouths messily slot against each other, tongues sliding and exploring. It’s hot and revolting and amazing all at the same time. Bruce shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he is but he doesn’t stop. He keeps kissing the other man, moaning into Joker’s mouth as that cold hand continues to stroke him into full hardness.
He can see the tent under Joker’s towel and the urge to touch, to feel becomes unbearable.
“Go on, pretty boy. I want you to do it.”
He still has one hand on Joker’s neck and with the other he reaches over to slip under Joker’s towel and fully grasp him. He can feel the weight of him, tracing a vein on the underside while his thumb rubs the slit at the top. Joker’s moans get louder, the hand on Bruce’s cock moves faster.
This is all moving too fast and yet not fast enough. It’s like his mind is trying to catch up with the rest of his body. It's become clear that his fascination with the clown has descended into a full blown obsession. He can’t shake him from his mind. No matter what he does, not even the one night stands with air-headed socialites can erase Joker from his thoughts.
He’s got Joker’s dick in his hand and his mouth pressing kisses along that pale neck so why put an end to this now. They’re both consenting adults here. So what if they happen to be Batman and the Joker?
But it isn’t enough. Bruce needs more so he lets go of Joker’s cock to fully haul him on his lap. Joker half squeaks-half moans as Bruce manhandles him. He wasn’t expecting this supposed ladykiller to be so forceful and aggressive. Whatever opinion he had of Bruce Wayne before has been completely thrown by the wayside. First there were the scars and now this! What other fun little surprises are you hiding, Brucie?
The towels finally come off and Bruce loses himself at last. Steam continues to billow and permeate all over. Joker feels slippery like some kind of snake you're trying to catch. A venomous snake he’s trying to catch before it can sink its fangs into him.
But the serpent doesn’t need to bite him, not when the poison had already been there to begin with.
He’s straddling Bruce, Joker’s hips grinding against his own. They continue kissing, only breaking apart to get air as the steam and humidity start to feel downright suffocating. They pay it no mind as they breathe in each other's air through heated kisses.
Joker’s thin arms are wrapped around Bruce’s shoulders, clinging on tightly to make sure he doesn't slip and fall from his lap more than anything. Joker’s cries only get louder as he feverantly presses his hips harder against Bruce’s own. Their cocks rub and slide, mixed with precome, sweat and the combined moisture of the room. Bruce grabs his hips, effectively rocking him forward and back. Joker mewls, enjoying the way Bruce has taken over control of their movements.
Bruce's head leans back against the wooden paneling behind him, his eyes squeeze shut as he lets his mind roam free with all the nasty things he could do to Joker right now. He could shove him face down on the floor and take him from behind, revel in the screams wrenched from him. He could have him on his back, legs up and spread wide as Bruce sinks his cock inside. His eyes boring into acid green eyes as he pounds into him, dragging orgasm after orgasm from him.
The hands that were gripping Joker’s slim hips slip further back until they each grab a handful of ass cheek. Bruce takes full advantage by squeezing and massaging the soft flesh. Joker shudders out a moan, undoubtedly enjoying being fondled this way.
Bruce then spreads the cheeks apart suddenly wishing he could see the view for himself but he likes to think he has a pretty good imagination. Joker gasps loudly in his ear when two fingers reach down and lightly brush the puckered entrance. He’s hesitant at first but Joker is making those wonderful sounds so how could he stop when he sounds like that.
”Fuck, just do it please.” Joker begs weakly. There’s something in his voice that tells him he doesn’t act like this for no one else. It’s like a barrier of some sort has come down and Bruce is the only one special enough to be witness to it. The fact that Joker is allowing it to happen with Bruce should mean something but there’s little time to play psychoanalyst.
His middle finger slowly presses in, surprised at how little resistance there is at first. Joker squirms in his lap and Bruce has to wrap one arm around his waist to keep him upright. Somehow he can feel himself get harder from the little gasps and whimpers he’s able to pry from Joker. So unlike the usual sounds he gets from him when they met as their “other” selves.
He’s already inside Joker down to the knuckle, groaning at how warm and tight he feels. Bruce is already imagining what it would be like if he shoved something bigger inside. He could do it. Shove his cock inside and Joker would be none the wiser that its Batman thats fucking him. Bruce knows it would be so good too. The way his body is so responsive and yielding to his touch. He wants to do it so badly but it's too risky here in the open. What they’re doing already is risky enough. As much as he would like to drag this out, Bruce needs to speed things along.
He feels nails dig and claw at his shoulders, Joker openly mouthing and kissing the side of his neck. Bruce adds his ring finger and soon enough both thick fingers are steadily thrusting in and out of the lithe body on top of him. He keeps at it until Joker’s squealing and Bruce is wondering how they haven’t attracted the attention of anyone else with all the noise Joker is making.
He’s clutching the clown tightly. Fingering him roughly until he reaches that sweet spot inside that has Joker finally letting out a long, keening cry. Somewhere in that, Joker wails out a name and if Bruce’s brain wasn’t so fogged up he could’ve sworn it sounded like he said “Batman”. He’s too out of it to really consider the implications of such a declaration but leaves it for another time.
Something to brood over later.
Joker comes all over Bruce’s chest, hips still undulating until he’s left panting over Bruce’s shoulder.
He carefully removes his fingers from Joker’s entrance and both hands come to rest on the other’s hips.
Joker lets out a breathy sigh, “Remind me to leave this place an absolutely stellar review on yelp. Who knew saunas would leave you feeling so refreshed.”
Bruce chuckles, not only at Joker’s dumb joke but the entire situation he finds himself in. Here he is naked with his mortal enemy, both covered in come and most likely minutes away from someone walking in on them.
Joker is chuckling too until he looks down between them.
“Hmmm I see little Brucie needs attending to.”
Without missing a beat, Bruce hits back. “Care to finish what you started?”
A pregnant pause settles in the air. The moisture and heat of the sauna is thick but Bruce feels the electricity between them. It threatens to override all his common sense and push him further down the depths of his want.
But then Joker’s tongue darts out, slowly licking his lips in anticipation. “But of course! I always make sure all parties involved are left satisfied.”
Bruce can’t help the noises he makes when Joker takes his sizable length in hand and begins to pump. He’s so hard right now and knows it wouldn’t take much at this point to push him over the edge. Seeing Joker come was enough already to get him all the way there.
His head falls back against the wooden surface behind him, groaning lowly as Joker’s hand moves faster. Fuck, he’s almost there until a sickeningly sweet voice is in his ear.
“The dinner party. Where is it being held?”
Bruce meets his piercing gaze, unbelieving Joker would pull this cruel stunt. He thought he had forgotten all about the damn dinner party. Oh how he was sorely mistaken.
”I d-don’t know.”
Joker’s hand stops moving but not before his thumb swirls around the tip of Bruce’s shaft, much like Bruce had done to him before. He’s dripping, balls full and ready to burst and totally under Joker’s mercy. Batman would never give in but he worries Bruce Wayne might not be as strong.
“Now Mr. Wayne, I think it would be in your best interest if you shared this particular bit of information with the class. Come on, I wouldn’t want to leave you hanging.”
How could he know Joker won’t use this information to hurt innocent people? There’s no way of knowing what Joker will do at the dinner party.
Joker’s hand starts stroking again until the other drifts and caresses one of his fresher looking scars on the side of his abs. The caress starts to get more aggressive and it isn’t until Joker draws blood that Bruce breaks.
“Fuck! Okay, okay, it's at the new place Carlito’s in Gotham Square!” Bruce is near manic, the urge to punch Joker so strong but he clenches his fists instead, keeping them at his sides. Any display of violence from Bruce could give him away.
Joker waits for him to spill the rest, giving his dick a squeeze at the base. Bruce groans again, shamefully sharing the rest of the information in defeat. “It’s tomorrow at 8pm.”
“Good boy,” Joker purrs, “See how easy that was? Don’t worry, I’ll fulfill my end of the bargain. Besides, I’m a man of my word.”
Soon enough, Joker’s back at it jerking Bruce off in record time. The slick hand on his cock rubs and pulls at the base and that combined with the loud fapping noises do a number on Bruce. Joker nuzzles his face, nipping and lightly kissing the smooth skin.
But Bruce wants more. A large hand reaches from behind and grabs Joker by the wet mop of green curls. He tugs hard and Joker lets out yelp, pupils blown wide as he stares at Bruce with something veering close to familiarity. He feels his stomach start to drop. He’s afraid he might have given himself away but before he lets the moment stretch any further, he hauls Joker in for a kiss instead.
It's rough and dirty but they kiss and kiss until Bruce finally comes. He growls into Joker’s mouth as skilled hands pump him dry. They pull apart leaving Bruce gasping for air, feeling so out of breath like he’s just been in a brutal fight with the man. The similarities are actually more apparent than he would actually like to think.
He’s starting to hate the smug look growing on the clown. A wide smile is plastered on his face, looking far too pleased with himself. Bruce only has himself to blame of course. He would be angry if it weren’t for the way Joker is starting to lick the come all over his fingers. The way his tongue sucks on each finger making sure to get every drop. Bruce has to avert his gaze so his mind doesn’t start venturing further down the rabbit hole of degeneracy.
“Mmm, delicious.” Bruce won’t be able to sleep tonight knowing those words will haunt him for the rest of his days.
Joker clambers off Bruce’s lap and proceeds to pick up the towel from the floor. Bruce can see Joker’s cock is still somewhat interested in the proceedings but it seems Joker is done for now. He got what he wanted anyway.
Joker wraps the towel against his waist and notices Bruce’s much too serious face. The man really needs to lighten up. “Awww, don’t look so glum, chum. You could be my plus one if you want!”
Bruce knows he’s in for a world of trouble tomorrow night. Trouble that only Batman can put a stop to.
His expression shifts to one of practiced cool and carefree charm. Bruce gives Joker his all too famous playboy smile.
“I may just take you up on that offer.”