Bruce awoke with a start from a rather fitful sleep, gaze immediately zeroing in on the shadowy figure lounging on the end of his bed. Sharp teeth glinted in the moonlight as his visitor grinned widely at him.
"Evening, sleeping beauty."
"What are you doing here, Joker?" Bruce sighed, running a hand through his messy black hair. Barely-there flashes of images and emotions from his dreams were dancing around his head, making him feel fuzzy and out of it. He didn't like feeling weak at the best of times, but feeling weak while half-naked in front of his Greatest Enemy? That was a whole new level of discomfort.
Still, he wasn't about to let Joker's unexpected presence faze him. At least, not outwardly.
"Oh," the clown drawled, tucking a strand of green hair behind his ear, "you know, I was just in the neighborhood and figured I'd drop in."
"You live here."
"Most of the time."
Bruce rolled his eyes and pushed himself into a more upright position.
"You know, if you keep sneaking out, I'm going to have to put you back in Arkham."
Joker leaned back onto his elbows, raising a disbelieving eyebrow at him.
"No you won't. You'd miss me too much."
"If I don't, Babs will."
"Eh, I'd break out."
"Joker."
The sternness in Bruce's tone made the smile drop from Joker's face. He gave the hero a withering look.
"Bats, you know I can't just...stay here. Play by the rules all the time. That's not who I am." He rolled over onto his stomach and crawled farther up the bed. Bruce watched him warily but didn't move as his nemesis settled himself against the headboard, meeting him face-to-face. "That's not who we are."
Any discomfort Bruce had been feeling initially during this encounter was nothing compared to the absolute shit-storm of emotions rattling around inside of him now. This was far, far too serious a conversation to be having less than ten minutes after waking up. And granted, this wasn't the first time Joker had invited himself into Bruce's bedroom (or his bed), but that didn't make the vigilante any less conflicted or confused about what exactly he wanted from this...relationship.
Joker, for his part, seemed to know exactly what he wanted.
With very little warning, the green-haired villain surged forward, pressing their mouths together in a bruising kiss.
Bruce inhaled sharply in surprise, his hand instinctively coming up to grab a fistful of green hair. He pulled, reflexively trying to yank Joker's head away from him, but either he was losing his edge or the clown was stronger than he looked because all it did was separate their faces by a few centimeters. Which was just far away enough for him to see Joker's eyes roll back into his head as the villain hissed out a breath through his teeth.
Bruce swallowed heavily. His throat was very dry.
"Sorry," he rasped, "reflex."
Joker opened his eyes and grinned lazily, tongue licking slowly over dangerously sharp teeth.
"Don't worry about it," he breathed, "you think I'd be your greatest enemy if I didn't like it a little rough?"
That punched the remaining breath right out of Bruce's lungs.
"Uh..." was his reply. Joker laughed (giggled, really) at his speechlessness.
In an effort to regain some dignity—and fueled by a sudden desire to wipe that smug grin off his enemy's face—Bruce used the hand still tangled in Joker's hair to pull him forward into another kiss. His other arm wrapped tightly around Joker's waist, pulling him easily into his lap. Almost immediately there was an arm snaking around Bruce's shoulders and nails biting into the bare skin of his back. Another hand found its way into his hair, and a not-so-gentle tug sent a jolt down his spine.
"Well, well, well," Joker murmured against his lips, sounding far too pleased with himself, "looks like I'm not the only one."
"Shut up," Bruce growled, pulling him back in and biting down hard on Joker's lower lip. He smirked at the breathy gasp it earned him. Two can play at that game.
At that exact moment, Bruce's phone began buzzing insistently on his bedside table. The two of them froze, blue eyes meeting green before they both turned to look at the flashing screen.
Incoming Call: Barbara Gordon
Joker quirked an eyebrow, leaning back slightly.
"You gonna get that?"
Bruce hesitated, finding it hard to focus properly with warm fingers drumming against the side of his neck.
"Well, if you don't, I will," the villain said, turning and leaning over to grab the phone. He managed to hit the "Accept Call" button before Bruce could snatch it out of his hand and put it to his own ear.
"Hey Babs," he greeted, glaring daggers at Joker, who smiled innocently in return.
"Batman," came her terse reply, "we've got a situation at Arkham that's being..." There was a pause, and Bruce could hear a scuffle and some shouting from her end. When Barbara spoke again she was out of breath. "...difficult to contain. We've got most of the inmates under control here, but Harley and a few others escaped. Any chance I could pull you in for this one?"
"I..." Bruce began, but his train of thought was momentarily derailed when the fingers tapping against his neck started to climb higher, nails dragging softly along his scalp. He locked gazes with Joker again, starting at the mischievous smile on the clown's face. Bruce shook his head, grabbing Joker's wrist with his free hand. Joker's grin just widened and he leaned in, pressing his lips to Bruce's jawline.
This time it was the gentleness of the touch that stole the breath from his lungs.
"Uh..." he stuttered into the phone, completely forgetting to fight back against the very obvious distraction attempt.
"Batman?" Barbara prompted, sounding worried. "You okay? If you're busy I can handle it."
"What? Uh, no," Bruce insisted, shoving half-heartedly at Joker's shoulder as the other man started pressing a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the column of his throat. "No, I'm fine. Be ready in five. See you soon."
He ended the call before he could embarrass himself any further, tossing the phone carelessly aside and placing firm hands on Joker's shoulders.
"Stop it," he ordered hoarsely. To his surprise, Joker complied, but not before giving the side of his neck a small nip. His teeth really were sharp as knives, and the feel of them scraping along Bruce's skin made him shiver.
"Gotta go save the day?" Joker asked, licking his lips. Bruce shoved him to the side to free his lower half, and Joker let him, flopping down comfortably on the mattress. He watched as the hero stood and stretched, walking over to his walk-in closet.
"So. You wouldn't know anything about a riot at Arkham, would you?" Bruce asked as he got dressed, shooting the criminal a look. Joker just smiled blandly.
"Can't prove it, didn't do it, Batsy."
"Of course." Bruce sighed heavily, putting on the mask before turning to leave the room. "Just...stay here. At least while I'm gone. This once."
"No promises!" Joker crowed. "Oh, and Bats, before you go..."
"What?"
"You might want to clean up your face a little. This lipstick stains like a bitch."
"...fuck."
