Not Done Yet

"Joker!" said Batman hoarsely. He had sunk down to the floor and was sitting, stunned, against the brick enclosure of the balcony. His chest hurt, and he was short of breath.

Everyone else was either dead or unconscious.

"Hi, babe. Ewww...you don't look so good. I think that bullet did some damage. We gotta get you out of here...."

"No! Jack...check the detective...he may still be alive."

The Joker curled his lip in an annoyed scowl, but he knelt by Gordon's man, checking his pulse. He pulled a phone out of the victim's pocket and called in a report, using an uncharacteristically deep, fake voice. He checked the other detective, but he looked at Batman and shook his head.

"He's gone. Other guy'll be all right. These fools are toast," he said, referring to the dead mobsters. "We need to be on the move, Batsy, cops'll be here in a minute," he said firmly.

"No--I need to..." Batman's gaze shifted from the Joker's face to the direction in which the contact man had taken off. His voice was weak.

"Oh, ho, you think the Bat's going to catch up with the rat? Sorry, doll face, but you need to rest. You're fuckin' hurt. But, not here. Come on, can you stand up?"

Before Batman could reply, the faint howl of a police siren became audible in the distance.

"That's it, we're gone," ordered the Joker. He crouched in front of Batman, peering at his eyes to see if he was responsive.

"Come on, gorgeous, you're going to be fine, but you don't want to have this particular conversation with the cops, do you? Here, I'll help you up...." Smiling encouragingly, Jack offered his arms to Batman, who accepted the support as he painfully pulled himself to his feet. He leaned heavily on the smaller man, who led him into the building.

The Joker was dismayed by Batman's weakness; if it were possible, he would have slung him over his shoulder and taken him to a place of safety immediately, but he was barely able to stay upright with the larger man's heavy weight on his shoulders.

They slowly made their way inside the building and out onto the roof. Bruce knew that Jack was taking an extreme chance by staying with him; not only was he risking the loss of his new-found freedom if the cops were to catch up to them, but he had no assurance that Batman himself wouldn't manage to overtake him at any moment and make sure he was returned to Arkham.

But the Joker, apparently, had no such concerns. He worked hard to help the Batman skulk laboriously from one nearby tall building to another, and they both had a frightening moment when Batman lost his footing on a rooftop edge and the Joker had to make a Herculean effort to hang onto him, pulling and straining muscles in his back.

They finally arrived at the old warehouse where the Joker had set up his temporary residence, and both gratefully clambered into the window of his makeshift apartment.

Batman was drained and suffering a deep, sharp pain in his chest where the bullet had impacted. The Joker led him to an old, beat-up couch he had dragged in from the street, and Bruce promptly collapsed, half lying and half sitting at one end. Jack flopped down at the opposite end and intertwined his long legs with Bruce's in comfortable familiarity. Both men sat breathing heavily, exhausted from their exertions, staring blankly at each other.

After regaining some energy, the Joker grinned at the Batman and resolutely swung his legs onto the floor. He arched backward, audibly cracking his back all along the length of his spine, groaning in pain.

"Damn, Batsy, you already fucked my back up once, did you really have to take another shot at it? I'll never be able to be on top if I keep going like this...."

"Where the hell are we?" Bruce asked hoarsely, ignoring his complaint.

"Oh, this is my swinging bachelor pad, can't you tell? I can see how you wouldn't notice, haven't had a chance to order the shag carpeting yet. Listen, bud, I need to take a look at you...get this gear off for me, would ya?" Jack asked, indicating Batman's Kevlar armor.

Bruce tried to comply, but the ache and stabbing pain that resulted from trying to raise his left arm caused him to wince and stop short. The Joker was at his side in a flash, and he set to the task of helping Bruce escape from his protective garment. Even in his state, Bruce couldn't help but shiver at the Joker's fingertips brushing his chest and under his arms as he struggled to pull the tight, clingy fabric over the muscular man's head.

Once his chest was bare, the Joker screwed up his mouth in distaste.

"Yuck. That is an amazing bruise you've got there, babe. I bet it hurts, huh?"

"Yeah, it smarts. But, I think I'll be ok."

"Are you breathing all right?"

"Yes...I'm better."

"That's good...I was afraid you had a collapsed lung or something."

"I really thought it was a broken rib, but now I'm pretty sure it's just a bruised muscle, or several. I just need to rest a while..."

"Yeah., good idea. Come on, I'll help you get in bed."

"No, I'll be fine right here..." Bruce didn't think he had any movement left in his body.

"Aw, come on, Bats, you'll be more comfortable if you can stretch out. Plus, I'll lay down with ya, if you want. You missed me, right?"

The Batman looked irritably at his former lover and realized that he was angry with him. Damn little bastard had let him go on worrying about him for weeks...he could have sent him a sign, just something so he'd know he was ok, but no. Not a single word.

Still...it would be nice to lay down with him. Assuming he wouldn't take the opportunity to murder him in his sleep...at that point, Bruce was so exhausted, he really didn't care if he did.

"Ok...but, how crazy are you, at this point?"

"Aw, come on, Batsy, I just saved your life! Can't ya give me a break, for once? I've been a very good boy, or haven't you noticed? Oh, please tell me you've noticed, for God's sake." The Joker frowned at him in exasperation. What was the point of stifling all his natural urges for mayhem if the Bat wasn't even paying attention?

"It's been awfully quiet in Gotham, I must say," acknowledged Batman.

"Yeah, look...."

Mollified, the Joker went over to an old chest of drawers and pulled out a handful of pill bottles.

"See? Before I took my little walk, I nabbed a bunch of my prescriptions from the pharmacy. I've been taking 'em everyday, just like when I was in the loony bin." The Joker looked at Bruce questioningly. "Does that make you feel any better?"

"How the hell did you get away with not only escaping but burglarizing the pharmacy, and all without hurting anybody?" asked Bruce in amazement.

The Joker broke into high-pitched laughter.

"I told you I was bored, sweetie! I was plotting it for weeks! And I knew you'd get mad at me if I, you know, offed anybody in the process, not that I particularly wanted to, what with my happy pills and all...I just had to wait for the right moment. Listen, here's what I did, it wasn't hard..."

"Ok, ok, I don't want to know...let me take a nap, ok?"

"Sure, Bats, I'm a little bit tired myself." With that, the Joker took off his coat and jacket and lay down next to Bruce, pulling a faded quilt over the two of them.

Bruce settled in. lying on his good side with his back to the Joker, when he felt a warm arm wrap around his waist.

"Does it hurt for me to touch ya?" whispered Jack.

"No, just don't touch my chest. It still hurts pretty badly."

"Ok." The slighter man snuggled as close as possible without causing his lover any discomfort and soon they were both sound asleep.


* * *

Hours later, the Joker awoke, slowly coming to consciousness still feeling groggy and stifled, as though in a fog-filled chamber.

He allowed his mind to wander, almost falling back to sleep yet again. He felt like he was under the influence of some drug--sleep had been unrelenting, forcibly taking him back into darkness every time he tried to struggle free. But now, when he finally grabbed hold of the daylight long enough to make his eyes stay open, he turned over and saw the peaceful expression on Bruce Wayne's handsome, sleeping face, and a slow grin stole over his painted lips.

He had eagerly snuggled up next to him, causing Bruce to stir. Finally awake himself, he scooped him into his arms, unmindful of the disturbing black, blue, yellow and orange bruise that had spread across one side of his chest. If it caused him pain, he was ignoring it. He pulled the Joker's body tightly against his, slipping his hand behind his neck, forcing his face upward so that he could deliver a deep, exploratory kiss onto the Joker's warm lips. Bruce's jaw worked feverishly, his tongue demanding entrance into the Joker's teasing mouth, and they quickly became lost in the kiss. Suddenly, Bruce pulled back and eyed the Joker critically.

"Go take that disgusting paint off of your face," Bruce ordered gruffly.

"Fuck you, Bats, no way," retorted the Joker defiantly, reaching back to continue the kiss.

"Yes, way. I'm not going to go on kissing you with that stuff all over your mouth."

"Tough, it stays. Kissing's overrated anyway, just a way of stalling before ya get to the good stuff..."

"Yeah? Well, I'm not doing anything else with you, either, until you go wash it off," Bruce asserted firmly, giving him a push away from himself and coldly turning back to lie on his pillow.

The Joker stared at him angrily.

"Ok, fine! It's all about what you want, isn't it?" He rolled off the bed and disappeared out of the room. After several long minutes, he returned, his pale face reddened, scrubbed clean, except for small amounts of greasepaint caked around his nose and at his hairline. He irritably crawled back under the covers with Bruce.

"There, I hope you're happy."

Bruce regarded the restoration of his lover's handsome face and smiled deeply.

"Yeah, I am. Very. Now, you need to take your damn clown costume off."

"Clown costume? You should talk, O Great Batman, with your idiotic rubber mask..."

"Just take off your fucking clothes!" Bruce demanded, nearing exasperation.

This time, the Joker did as requested with no argument, and Bruce gamely struggled out of the rest of his outfit as well, with a little help from the Joker. He wasted no time reclaiming his lover's lithe body, and they slipped back into a passionate embrace, into the lost world of their kisses, this time with Bruce's hands slipping lovingly over his slender body, caressing and teasing him as the Joker wriggled eagerly against him.

Bruce slid his hands downward, over the small of his back to his rear, and grasped each firm cheek in turn, affectionately squeezing and stroking him there as his tongue continued to caress the inside of the Joker's eager mouth. Suddenly, he pulled him almost on top of himself, securing him tightly with one strong arm to prevent him from wrestling free, pushed back the covers, and proceeded to administer several hard, stinging open-handed smacks to his bare bottom, alternating from one round cheek to the other.

"Ow! Hey! Ow, what the hell....?" asked the Joker, eyes wide with genuine surprise, squirming in both pain and delicious pleasure.

"Listen, you little fucker, I should beat the hell out of you for the scare you gave me. I was out of my mind, worrying about you!" Bruce's dark eyes pierced into Jack's soul as he finally allowed him to wriggle out of his grasp so the Joker could stare back at him in amazement.

"Well...shit! You're just full of surprises, Batsy! You know, I never minded having you smack me around, but a spanking? Kind of kinky! More of a turn on than I would have thought...but, jeeze, I didn't think you cared what the hell happened to me. I mean, you practically never came to see me any more..." The Joker's voice trailed off, and he simply fell back next to Bruce, staring up at the ceiling.

They were both quiet for a while, then Bruce spoke up.

"Ok, Jack...you're right, I was preoccupied. And I didn't tell you what was going on with me. As you may have noticed, I've been working on a big case--it's very important and has taken a lot of my time. I guess...I guess I still didn't trust you to keep quiet about such things. So I didn't tell you. And for that, I'm sorry, very, very sorry. But, you shouldn't have just disappeared like that. Not only have you seriously screwed up your chances of ever legitimately getting released from Arkham , but....I didn't know what happened to you. I thought you...." Bruce couldn't say the words. The Joker looked at him inquisitively.

"You thought I what?"

"Went through with your threat of killing yourself."

"Oh...well, that was stupid. I told you I was all better. There was nothing to worry about."

Bruce felt a flood of frustration wash over him. How could a man who was so clever and intelligent be so incredibly dense?

"When you care about somebody, you worry! You could have at least let me know you were alive!"

"Oh, why, so the good Bat Scout could track me down and throw my ass back in the nut house? I couldn't take that chance! Anyway, if you ever bothered to pay attention to anything other than your 'big case', you might have noticed I've been around all along. How do you think I managed to show up when I did last night?"

Bruce stared at him, shocked.

"Are you saying you've been following me?"

"Yeah, sugar. I've been your shadow, your, um, guardian angel if you will, every time the Bat's gone out ever since I escaped." The Joker smiled smugly at his lover and snuggled back into his arms.

"You are such an idiot ! Why would you do that?" Bruce asked helplessly.

"Well, for one thing, it was fun. Exciting. Challenging...everything life in Arkham wasn't. It was great! For another, I could see you really needed some looking after. You take too many chances, Bats. Look at what happened last night...."

"That was unusual. I never expected Gordon's men to show up. That was a huge mistake, and there wasn't anything I could do but try to help."

"Yeah, well, it was a good thing I was there, is all I'm sayin'."

They were quiet again. Finally, bored, the Joker began poking none-too-gently at Bruce's massive bruise, causing him to recoil in pain.

"Hey, cut it out! Stop it, that's still painful!"

"Is it?" Still poking.

"God, yes, stop!" Bruce grabbed the Joker's wrist and forced his hand up over his head, rolled on top of him, and began roughly kissing him again. He was amused at how eagerly the Joker responded to an activity he had so scornfully dismissed not a half hour earlier.

"So, am I wasting my time? Stalling before we get to the good stuff?" asked Bruce teasingly, grinning down at his lover.

"Naw...you make me feel...liquid when you do that. I guess kissing's ok, sometimes...."

"Well...moving right along, do you have any...?"

"Oh, yeah, here..." The Joker reached into the drawer of his nightstand and handed the tube to Bruce.

Oh, yeah. He parted his legs and a slow grin spread across the Joker's face as Bruce began sliding two well-slicked fingers in and out of him, preparing him for their lovemaking. He reached in far enough to repeatedly brush his fingertips over his prostate, then helped Jack to open up to him by gently pulling his fingers apart, working to relax the tight muscles of his entrance.

When he finally, slowly slipped his fingers out and gruffly muttered, "Turn over," the Joker felt a tidal wave of excitement flood through him. He hadn't been with anyone else since Bruce explained the concept of infidelity to him, and he was horny as hell. He apparently took too long to obey, so Bats unceremoniously flipped him over onto his belly and yanked his hips up high, using his knee to force the smaller man's legs wide apart so he could fuck him from an upright, kneeling position.

The first round turned into a frantic, unthinking coupling.

The Bat's cock slickly sliding in and out of him felt so damn good. The way he had to stretch to accommodate his girth, to let him in. That had hurt, a little, right at first. Not surprising, it had been a while...but then, the head scraping against his prostate over and over, Batman working so industriously to thrust deeper and deeper into his tight channel, pulling his hips tighter, closer to him...the pain passed into sheer pleasure, and just became part of the delicious explosion of sensations washing over him.

The first, sudden scrape of the head of Bat's cock over his prostate sent him into a deep, guttural groan, and the last, many long, delicious minutes later, had caused him to escalate into high-pitched keening, pleading, urging...finishing with a loud cry as he came all over his ragged comforter. Bats had come only seconds later, and the Joker was amazed that he was able to thrust into him so deeply without tearing him apart.

Then they had lain, panting, the Joker feeling the Bat's chest heaving against his back, his softening cock sticky and cool against his rear. The Batman had let him cuddle against him, begrudgingly pulling him closer, not saying a word, but making him feel wanted, desired, needed once again....