Title: Not Quite the Bat...
Disclaimer: If I owned them they would have less clothing while together
Rating: PG13-R
Warnings: Gore, language
Characters/Pairings: Batman/Joker
Summary: A last stand by a band of Gotham's worst nearly kill The Batman and The Joker is less than pleased. No one stands between Joker and his Bat and he aims to make sure it never happens again...



Not in all the life Joker remembered had he been kissed. He had used lips to sneer and smile, to pout and even to place a few rare pecks on others in either torment or only just recently in genuine care. But they had never been caught in a lovers kiss. When Batman held him close with the darkness closing all around them and the lips he had watched sneer for years brushed against his own his heart stuttered in his chest. The world around them melted and it did not matter that they were Batman and Joker or even the Knight, all that mattered is that it was them and for the first time in his life he felt the innocents of true happiness.

Batman pushed past the gently brushing kiss and melded their lips together as desire and need built in them both. Joker knew nothing but the press of their bodies, the strange fire that burned within them both and made his whole life until now fade to grey. Batman’s arms were warm and engulfing around him, his mouth undeniably masculine and perfect. The wet sounds of their joined lips with the heady pant of Batman drove away Jokers uncertainty and his mind melted. He surrendered his genius for human feeling he wanted more. He kissed back, hungry and searching, wanting to taste this perfection, to know the Batman in ways no one else ever could.

His hands had been frozen at his sides but now wandered up the heated chest before him, grasping and stroking. He could feel flesh give way to cloth and he lightened his touch over the bandage but Batman gasped painfully into his mouth, their lips resting against each other but stilled. Blue eyes were shut tight in pain and Joker closed his lips over Batman’s, a temporary goodbye to those lips, an unwillingness to be rid of this new communication, a silent ‘please be okay’. Although Batman returned his small kiss, his own reassuring response, they broke apart in pain.

Joker looked down at their bodies, pressed tight together, chests flush; he could see his own hand resting over a dirty white bandage, see how Batman was lost in a haze of pain. Carefully he pulled his hand away to find blood red smeared on his palm. Deft fingers crept to the edge of the soiled bandage, pulling at it to reveal the harsh wound.

“It’s infected.” Batman had finally caught his breath, and the jolts of pain were ebbing.

“I have had worse.” Batman was staring at his lips, he could feel the burning gaze and his own eagerly responding body but he ignored all of it.

“And if you do not treat it it will be worse. When was the last time you changed the bandages?” He was pulling back now, wanting to take in all of the man before him, to look into those guilty eyes, so clear under his cowl.

“How do you manage to take care of yourself? You are always so preoccupied it is amazing you remember to eat. What did you do before I was here to watch you kill yourself?” Even villains knew better than to let themselves waste away, he of all people knew that. He could still feel his heart hammering in his chest, still remember the feel of Batman against his lips…. How human, it was as if with each minute they became more human, gods discovering their mortal selves, and the only one who did not see it was the Bat. How long could this volatile connection last when Batman insisted he was not human? That the vigilante they all loved was above mere bullets and death? How do you tell a bat that he was mortal and the only Achilles heal the Joker or the Knight would ever have?

Batman was smiling indulgently now, seemingly unworried about his injuries, one of his hands had worked their way up to trail distractingly over the other mans lips, lovingly caressing his cheek. “I do have someone to help me but when I brought you back with me I had to tell him not to come. I do not have the right to give away his identity or mine by having him here.”

“Then why not have him wear a mask like us?” Joker refused to be distracted; he couldn’t help but lick his lips to erase the trail of fire Batman had created, getting what he wanted now meant nothing if Batman died in the process. “Bats I can help you with these but you need more help than I know how to give.”

“Somehow I don’t think a mask is going to protect his identity. He is too thoroughly himself to be anyone else.” Batman grinned at the look that earned him, his smile easy and quick as if he had lost some of his brooding demeanor.

“Then I will wait somewhere else, we do not have many options left, you need help.”

“I am okay for now; we can take care of these. If they worsen I will ask him to come.” Batman was looking at him with eyes that looked almost out of place, soft and venerable in the impenetrable black mask, almost…open; something had changed between them.

Joker eyed the wounds; he had seen the careless die from less. That strange comforting feeling inside him reared its ugly head and its dark wings twisted something inside him into fear. Batman could not be allowed to toy with his own life like this. The emotions whirled inside him making it hard to concentrate, his brilliant analytical brain was crippled by fear for him, and then it came to him, a smile creeping over his face. The emotions in his emotionless soul had a twin in batman’s too-fond gaze.

“Bats…” Joker twirled his arms around Batman’s chest, laying his head down in his strong shoulder, relishing in the beat of his heart, the heat of his skin before looking up at him through thick blond lashes, his mouth a desperate pout. He did not have to fake the worry in his eyes. “Please get the help you need. For me?” Heat burned his cheeks as he rose to his tip toes to press a kiss to the others lips. Batman leaned into him but he deepened the kiss only for a second, pulling back when his heart threatened to slam out of his chest.

“I-” the words looked as if they had been stolen from him; his lips were red and kiss bruised. “I can’t.”

“Because of your identity? I already told you it does not matter to me. You laid here for hours with me and you woke up wearing your mask. I will not betray you. I promise.” And then Batman did something he had never done before. He consciously decided to place his trust in another.

“Okay.”

Together they made their way back to the medical table. They walked awkwardly side by side, unsure of themselves at first, both unused to the idea of comfort. But a misstep brought their bodies closer, their arms brushed and when their hands touched they entwined and never let go.

Batman sat on the table after gentle prodding and hands pushing him into place. An intercom consol sat within reach and Batman tentatively touched the button.

His mouth formed the beginning of a name but stopped, unwilling to make it that easy, he did not know how to start. He wanted to give as little away as possible but he felt awful for having stayed out of contact this long when he knew how Alfred worried over him. He began again.

“The Knight and I are in the Batcave. I am going to need some additional assistance with some of my injuries. I am leaving it up to you if you would like to wear a mask when you come down.” The voice cleared again and Alfred’s voice floated over the speaker.

“Right away sir. I am assuming that sir has not offered our guest any refreshments since arriving?” Bruce suppressed a wince, two ‘Sirs’ in one sentence, Alfred was less than thrilled with him. The Knight caught his attention with a grin, mouthing the word ‘Sir’ with a mock serious expression, half bowing to him.

“No, I have not.” Bruce did wince this time even through the smile the Knight had earned with his antics. How long had they been in the cave and he had never offered food? When was the last time the Knight had the chance to eat at all?

“Right. I will be down straight away.” The consol clicked off.

“Sir?” The Knight laughed as he stepped forward to stand in between Batman’s legs, leaning against both him and the bed to remove the soiled bandages, happier now that he had his way.
“He has been with me since the very beginning; I have known him all my life but he is proper to a fault. He-ow-” Batman let out a surprised gasp when the bandage pulled away- it was more infected than he thought. “Is my family.” Bruce did not know why he had given this information away so freely at first but when Alfred appeared at the entrance and he watched Alfred as the man first saw Batman and The Knight together he knew. This was the closest he would ever get to bringing someone home to his parents.

Alfred’s stern expression disappeared the moment his eyes fell on his ward, there was a smile on his face, the emotion between the two men as naked as Bruce was without his Batsuit. Bruce was letting the other man take care of him. The Knight was leaning into him and Bruce was letting some of his weight rest against the other man, a strange fondness marking his normally stern features. Alfred wondered as he drew closer if they had any idea how in love they were.

The Knight looked startled when Alfred set the tray down but he finished pulling the last bandage free before relinquishing his position against Batman.

“Please. Do help yourself.” Alfred clearly directed the words to The Knight, letting Bruce know that he was not out of trouble quite yet. The man nodded a small thanks before snatching a sandwich he had not realized he had wanted in until he held it. Alfred stepped closer, not between Bruce’s legs but close enough to examine the wounds.

“I am surprised you did not let them get worse before calling me. Although I do appreciate you making my job easier.” He was already pulling bottles from the cabinets around them, Bruce kept his mouth shut but the Knight swallowed the food in his mouth and for the first time since entering the Batcave his voice was unwelcomed by the Bat.

“Actually I made him. He insisted he has had worse.” Batman glared at him but the smile he received in return was infectiously bright; he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Indeed.” Bruce prayed that was all Alfred would say but the man was in no such mood, was that a smile glinting behind his straight-faced maturity? “He has had much worse. You should have seen him come home before the armor improvements.” He poured a particularly vicious liquid into the most infected wound but Alfred seemed unperturbed by the inevitable pain this caused. “In fact, one of the very first nights as Batman I found him down here with a sewing needle trying to stitch his side back together.”

“A sewing needle?” The stifled giggle was more than apparent and Bruce welcomed the fresh flood of pain from his treated wounds, it cut the heat rising to his cheeks.

“He had this notion that they were all quite the same, made a bloody mess.” Alfred finished sanitizing the first wound and as he moved on to the next he seemed gentler, some of his silent antagonism sated by the fiery blaze creeping onto Batman’s face and the amused laughter coming from the Knight.

“Of course he does manage to get his share of other injuries.” The Knights face was a perfectly schooled look of interest, the mirth bubbling out of him. “Just last winter he insisted on chasing Killer Crock into the harbor and then spending the remainder of the night locked down here. By morning he was so ill I was nearly forced to carry him out.”

Stifled laughter broke past his lips but his smile was strained, something deep inside of him rejecting the idea of Batman being ill, he took half a step closer to the other man and rested his hand on top of Batman’s, he didn’t look up as their fingers curled together.

“My young Master can be quite the handful when the mood strikes him.”

“Like some people I know.” Batman muttered under his breath but Alfred’s eyes were twinkling with hidden amusement and the Knight was covering his smile with the hand not held in his own. It was more than worth a little embarrassment to see his family so happy.

“Do you remember the first time you used the bat launcher?” Bruce’s eyes widened and he pulled the Knight so he toppled over and their bodies collided, his hands covering the other man ears. Alfred stepped back as the two fought playfully, the Knight finally ending up trapped in Batman’s arms but his ears clear. Alfred did not repress his smile.

“We were testing new devices in the cave and he launched into a part under construction. He was half way up when the boxes it had caught on broke, taking down an half of the Batcave and sending him into the water below.”

Batman had to hold tight so the man in his arms did not fall to the floor as he laughed; once he regained his composer he twisted in his arms to face him.
“So the Bat is human after all. You are just lucky that I have better luck with your toys than you did. It could have ended badly if it fell when I was carrying you out of Arkham.” A teasing wink made Batman hold him tighter.

“It is not luck that got us out of there, it was you. Actually when we are done here I might have something for you.” Alfred cleared his throat and the Knight stepped out of the Bats arms, falling naturally to his bedside. The rest of the wounds were treated with a new gentleness and as they fell into comfortable silence Bruce let out a breath he did not realize he had been holding. When Alfred finished the man did not immediately turn to clean the mess the duo had made, his gloved hand came to Bruce’s shoulder and squeezed for a moment before Alfred enveloped him in a quick uncharacteristic hug. As soon as he released him he quickly busied himself with work. Bruce sat in stunned silence, realizing that Alfred had seen something profound in all this that he had not. There was hope yet for both Batman and Bruce Wayne to be happy.

Bruce put on a new shirt, chilled in the cool air and watched Alfred for a moment longer; he had chosen to come down maskless. Bruce had always known he was a closet optimist, maybe after so many years
together it was rubbing off on him.

“Come on.” Batman led the way to his old suits and pressed a panel on the wall. An array of old gear and replacements opened next to the glass case. Bruce pulled out one of his older belts and wrapped it around the silent Knight’s waist, it hung at an angle, just a little too large but it suited him somehow. He chose several belt sections and slid them into place.

“What is this?” His hands were hovering old the belt as if afraid to touch it.

“Tools. How can you expect to keep up, let alone save me, if you do not have at least a few of the same tools that I do?” Batman laughed at the wonder on the others face, nimble fingers immediately caressing the new toys. There was nothing dangerous, mostly climbing and distraction tools but within the hour the Knight was repelling from the high beams, his laughter floating to where Batman sat far below.

Batman watched his companion at play, analyzed with critical eyes the adeptness of the moves, how they rivaled even his own. One bad day had done this to them both…but what could profoundly good days do for them now? Could it be enough to bring the Knight to his side? Could he be enough reason for the Knight to change his mission, his life? Could they work together and actually be happy? Did joy exist in the darkness?

“Master …Batman.” Alfred hurried towards them. “The Batsignal.”



Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5