madwanderer: (Default)
[personal profile] madwanderer
Title: Bloodied hands
Author: [Bad username or site: @]/[Bad username or site: @]
Fandom: Nolanverse
Pairing: Batman/Joker
Genre(s): Lime
Prompt: The Joker likes knives... and Batman discovers he does too!
Rating: R
Word Count: 1845
Summary: All he can do is sit back and enjoy because as far as he's concerned he'll never understand why.
Disclaimer: Full disclaimer here.
Warnings: Bloodplay, masturbation, obviously knives~
Note: Originally this was supposed to be for the team challenge and mmom but... during the last week of May I decided to go to the beach, the Brooklyn Botanic Garden and the mall- thus time for fic was blown off...Ahahaha yes, I fail. |D;; Still upon looking over the beginning of this I decided to twist this around a bit and realized it really fits the [ profile] slashfest prompt I picked. :D
Will edit this properly later~ Edited~

Bruce watches as the crazed man walks amid the men and women smoking in the alley. Some ignore him, others catch his face and run, and yet others crowd closer to him, following him as he walks. His fist tightens, fighting down the urge to land in their midst and take them all down. He watches.

For a moment he loses sight of them but a few steps closer and they're within his vision. His eyes follow as they enter a building opposite him.

His eyes narrow, what are you up to Joker?

The people who are following him disappear in the building. Bruce can't find them anymore. Then a light turns on in a room. He can see the Joker walking around in it, all limbs coming into view as the jacket is thrown onto a chair, and the man begins to undress. Buttons of the vest slip out first, hurriedly (as if he can't wait) then the shirt (hastily and without care to the rips) and finally the pants (bouncing up and down as he kicks them off and falls onto the mattress).

He's never seen the Joker like this. He's never seen the man without his clothing that mark him as the man that has tried to own these streets. He's never seen him so... human. He watches in awe as the man lies on a bed just like any person would. It feels so... surreal to intrude on such a scene. Yet he can't tear his eyes away.

He sucks in a surprised breath as a hand trails over the long expanse of white skin he can see. Nails trail down and a hand slips beneath the band of-

Is he-?

Bruce's eyes widen. He is.



Joker grins as he eyes the shadow, up on the rooftop. He vaguely wonders what the man is doing up there (voyeur much Bats?) before he gives up and simply accepts it. It's not like as if it should be so much of a surprise- the hero is just as obsessed as he is, no matter how much he denies their similarities.

He walks up the stairs slowly, calculating the distance and the view from Bat's hiding place. A thrill runs up his spine as he wonders how to keep the vigilante's attention for just a little longer. An idea springs to his mind.

Well... It has been a while.

He smiles to himself and enters the hallway on the eighth flight. He chooses a room at random- they were all good enough for his purposes- and slips inside. Turning on the lights he decides against too ostentatious a show. He has to lure him in and give the bat a false sense of security. He needs to make sure he stayed when he began and ended.

He lays on the bed and begins. First a tease (a little taste of what's to come). He lets his hands wander- scratches, caresses, pinches. Some to his nipples, one just above his navel, and a long curl of nails run along his skin- all as he lets one hand slip into his boxers. It all serves to work himself up. Working up to the next bit where he fully exposes himself to the eyes he knows are still on him.

You could have gone away.

But he didn't. Joker can still feel that presence out there bound to him by a tie so strong it twists and curls inside him, choking his entire soul so all he can feel is those eyes. Dark eyes watching him as he begins a new act for the bat to watch.

Yet... it's not enough. Joker growls low in his throat, tugging at his boxers as the release builds up in his stomach. No, there's something he nngh... needs.. Blindly he reaches out for the bedside table where he's left his knife. He curls a hand around it and revels in the blood flowing out of his palm. Yesss.

This is what he needed.

He reaches down with the bloodied hand and replaces the knife with the other, letting the edge skitter across his chest. A few more strokes of his hand and he's gone, eyes seeing nothing but white as his release spills onto his belly. He groans and peers lazily out the window. The shadow is gone.


Bruce doesn't bother to stay. He runs as fast as he can, blood rushing in his ears as he makes away from the scene. Those movements are etched into his skull and for the life of him, he can't make them go away. The way the hands moved languidly over skin he had never seen- so pale, so-

He shakes his head. He doesn't need to think about this right now. He doesn't need to think about it all. Right now, what should be weighing on his mind is the fact that all those people disappeared into the building.

Forcing himself to breathe he heads to the tumbler and slipping inside he races back to the penthouse.

Yes, that's what he should be thinking about.

Except in his mind's eye all he can see is the blood on that pale hand as it moved.


Bruce watches as the man slowly strips again. It's been exactly three weeks since he's come to watch him. At first he tried to convince himself that it was simply to figure out what the clown was up to but now, he's not so sure that's quite right.

It's no small secret that the Joker is obsessed with him. He has just never thought it would go both ways. At least not to this degree. In a way he should have seen it coming- watching him the first time had been fascinating and even now, with this new twist to the show- it still is.

The cuts had been troubling at first- yet he can't forget the look of ecstasy on the man's face as soon as the blood poured out. He looked away that first time. But now... now he can't help but look. He swallows as he inches forward. It is disturbingly alluring. No matter how much he tries, he can't tear his eyes away.

That's why, when he finds himself moving from his building to the next he's not surprised. He actually wonders why it's taken so long.


Joker waves the people away. They've been pining at him, trying to find out what's going on his mind and what they're there for. He shakes his head with a sigh. He doesn't really understand what they're doing here to be honest. He hadn't asked for them to follow- they had simply seen him and followed. He knows he's had that effect before but really? He just got out, he doesn't need this right now. He needs-

He sneaks a glance out the window and tries not to smile but he can't help it. His lips stretch even further as he laughs under his breath.

Of course, he thinks, right on time too.

For the past few weeks it's been like this. Every night since that first one, Bat has come to see him and every night he does exactly the same thing. It's amusing to see how far he can go and how long the Bat is willing to stay.

He hasn't stuck around much longer since the first night but at least he is starting to stay past the first few gashes on his skin. He can feel the heat of the gaze on him and it thrills him like nothing else.

He strips himself, taking a bit longer between each article of clothing and stretches, working out the kinks in his shoulders. It has been a while since he's been able to do this. Arkham had kept him confined in that silly jacket for far too long.

Then he flicks the lights off and heads for the lamp beside the bed. It's a soft glow that bathes the room in half shadows and rays, illuminating only what's within the bulb's reach.

He stretches out on the bed and reaches for the knife automatically- he's taken to keeping one under the pillow now. At first he stares at it thoughtfully, one hand behind his head as he contemplates it. He brings it to his mouth and licks it. It's cold to the touch and for a moment he doesn't do anything else but that. He pulls it away to stare again, only this time he smirks a little.

He's not alone in the room tonight.

Joker's not sure how he managed it but he knows that he's somewhere in the shadows of the room. He can hear the hitch of breath as he moves forward to lick up to the tip of the blade and cuts his tongue, spilling blood over it in small wet drops. He moves it away and licks his lips, letting the blood ooze and gather about the folds of his mouth.

Don't stop.

Joker raises a brow and continues licking the blade. It's slick and wet and his tongue is bleeding profusely as he finally lets the knife travel away from his face and to his skin.

He suddenly gasps as a gloved hand reaches over to grip his and guides the knife down, tearing barely healed skin in its wake. He moans and writhes under the assault- it has been so long since someone did this to him.

He wants to reach up and bite. He wants to scratch. He wants to twist and turn them over just so he can fuck him. But he doesn't. Instead he allows it to go on like this and groans low in his throat as a bloodied glove reaches down to take him.


To be quite honest, Bruce has no idea why he's here. He just knows he can't stand watching from so far away. Not when he has the chance to be this close. Especially with the obvious invitation to do so. The dim lighting is enough to help him navigate the small clutter of a room but isn't enough to give away what anyone is doing in the room. For that he's grateful even if it is a little unsettling to wonder if the Joker spared a thought for his fears of being caught by someone else or if he planned it this way to get him closer.

He moves forward as soon as the knife makes its appearance. He can't help it, he's just so attracted to the sight. After seeing it so many times, watching from afar the faces he makes, and only imagining the noises he makes, he can't help but move closer. Now he's here and he's seeing it, listening to the sounds escaping that arched and exposed throat, holding the knife in his own hands.

This should feel dirty... wrong-

It does. It's filthy. It's disgusting. It's fucking addicting. And he loves it.

So Bruce maps out the skin and carves out new marks with the knife, reveling in each new incision.

Like what you read? Friend [ profile] madwanderer~♥

(no subject)

Date: 2010-06-18 03:03 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Very sexy :D
It's nice to see Batsy finally acknowledge and give into their mutual obsession.
I love this line: "It's filthy. It's disgusting. It's fucking addicting. And he loves it."
Great fic... I want more though :) ...sequel??? :D

(no subject)

Date: 2010-06-18 04:13 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
... Also, have you ever heard the song "I Get Off" by Halestorm? If not, look up the lyrics because it 's like the perfect theme song for this fic, lol :D

(no subject)

Date: 2010-06-18 03:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
UNF. I love how Batman takes charge at the end, and Joker lets him. Fuck, that was incredibly hot.

(no subject)

Date: 2010-06-20 04:18 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Very brilliant, and says a lot about their mutual obsession!!

(no subject)

Date: 2010-06-23 02:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Guh. This was insanely hot.

Voyeur!Batman is a perverted son of a gun. xD I like that. ;D
Love how he joins in too. Perfectly IC.

"This should feel dirty... wrong-

It does. It's filthy. It's disgusting. It's fucking addicting. And he loves it.

So Bruce maps out the skin and carves out new marks with the knife, reveling in each new incision.
So much love for that image, you don't even know. xD

Seriously, this was just delightful. I always end up loving your work though. <3


madwanderer: (Default)

February 2011

67 89101112

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags