• Rain fell on the city streets as a man clad in a purple trench coat walked under the dim light of the street lamps. He kept his head down, hiding his scarred face from passing walkers. He turned down an alley and stopped, allowing the hat that covered his head to float to the ground. Long, green curls flowed freely in the slight breeze. He let his trench coat fall to the wet ground as well and proceeded into the entrance of the building’s stairwell. The sound of his footsteps echoed as he made his way to the roof. The door to the roof closed with a loud clang. The rain fell harder. The white face paint covering him began to wash away, mixing with the black around his eyes, and the red on his lips and scars. He walked towards the ledge and looked down. The tops of umbrellas and newspaper shielded heads walked or ran by, all without knowing he was even there. He put one foot on the ledge, then the other, the sorrow of his mood contradicted by the permanent smile etched into his tired face. “Here I am,” he started to speak “,at my death…No one will care if I die. No one will care if I fall,” he closed his eyes as tears streamed down his face, mixing with the rain and paint. He scooted closer to the edge, eyes still closed. “everything is a game. A joke! But now, for once, I’m not laughing. I’m not smiling. And he can’t even see it. He can’t even see the pain he causes me. He can’t even see my tears.” he opened his eyes and smiled slightly. “But he’ll see. He’ll see, when I’m splattered across the pavement like a fly against a windshield, oh he’ll see it. He’ll see…me.”

    A young man in nothing but jeans and a black hoodie ran down the street in the pouring rain. He turned down an alley and slid to a halt. He saw the hat and purple trench coat and bit his lip. “Please hold on. Please don’t jump.” he pleaded as he ran up the building stairwell. The door closed with a loud clang as the brown haired man panted. He saw man standing on the ledge, getting ready to jump. He rushed, tears in his eyes, towards the ledge. “Joker no!” he cried reaching the clown man. Joker smiled but continued to stare out into the city horizon. “You came, you really came.” he said smiling. “I didn’t think you would, but I-I waited anyway. Just for you. Just so you could see the show.” Joker never looked at the brown haired man. “What show?” the man asked stupidly. Joker laughed a little. “I’m glad you decided to come unmasked, Bruce. It will make the kiss I’ve always fantasized about that much better, but you don’t want to kiss me…do you?” Joker turned to look at Bruce. “No you wouldn’t. Not with these scars…” there was sorrow in his insane emerald green eyes. Bruce was caught in their hypnotic gaze. “Why would you think that Joker? I l-love you!” Bruce said, choking back tears. The painted man wasn’t expecting this, especially not from Bruce. All he could do was stare. The rain poured on, thunder boomed in the distance.

    “You-you love me?” Joker asked, looking down. “H-how could you? I mean god! I’m a psychotic murderous clown for Christ’s sake, Bruce! Do you really expect me to believe that you mean this? And that it’s not some sort of trick to keep me from killing myself?” Joker cried angrily. Bruce took the wet and painted chin of the Joker in his hand, forcing him to look up. Bruce smiled, his deep, brown eyes sparkling with tears. “Yes. Yes I do.”

    Bruce pulled the Joker towards him, pressing the clown’s painted and damaged lips to his own. He could see slightly that the man was blushing and closed his eyes. Joker parted his lips, allowing Bruce to slide his tongue in. He pulled back, staring at the handsome young man in shock. He didn’t know how to respond, how to react, only to lean back in and to allow the kiss to continue. “Do you mean it?” Joker asked seriously. Bruce wiped tears from the clown man’s eyes. “Yes, I do Joker. I love you.” he said easing the Joker’s worry slightly. He pulled the clown closer to him, feeling a slight warmth through his wet clothes. Joker laid his head on Bruce’s shoulder. “I love you…my dark knight-” Joker said, voice filled with pain. He pushed Bruce away and turned towards the ledge. “But our love is something that cannot be. A b*****d child in the eyes of the city, the world. One day, our love can be, but until then what we have cannot suffice to your touch. I cannot live without you. So I shall die knowing that you love me. The ultimate joke in the eyes of us all.” Joker said seriously with a pain-filled smile as he stepped off the ledge. He closed his eyes and awaited death but death never came. He was suspended in air by his hand, held onto by Bruce. “Let me go.” Joker said, tears running, eyes still shut. Bruce was crying harder now. “No. I need you. I won’t let you die. Not here, not like this.” he yanked Joker up into his arms and held him tight. The clown man was angry and fought against the strong arms. Bruce took the beating until Joker wore himself out. Panting, he looked at Bruce. “Well if your not going to let me kill myself…what now?” he asked with a chuckle.

    Bruce lead the Joker down the stair well and out into the alley. He bent down an retrieved the hat and coat, unaware that the Joker was staring intensely at his a**. “Hmmm…nice.” he muttered under his breath, licking his lips as Bruce handed him his clothes. “I’ll have Alfred bring a car.” Bruce said, pulling out a cell phone. Joker sighed and waited for Bruce to finish. The two men were very wet. Joker’s makeup was running, almost gone. His green eyes, once intensified by the black rims, now looked slightly duller with the paints washing away. Alfred pulled into the alley. Quickly they climbed into the backseat and were on their way.

    Alfred looked into the rear-view mirror. He saw Bruce and the man beside him. The Joker. The fiend responsible for the death of Rachel, the girl who was Bruce’s best and closest friend, and who was like a daughter to poor Alfred. He gripped the wheel tight. “Where to sir?” he asked in his British tone. Bruce looked at Joker then Alfred. “Wayne Manor Alfred.” Alfred was shocked. He didn’t see Bruce slide his hand onto the Joker’s, he didn’t see the devilish smile they gave each other or the glint of lust and desire in each others eyes. They drove in silence. Alfred unsure but still followed his master’s order. They soon pulled into the driveway and up to the house. The rain had slowed slightly as the men stepped out of the car. Bruce wrapped an arm around Joker’s wet shoulder and lead him inside. “Alfred, could you please get some clothes for the Joker?” Bruce looked into Alfred’s grey eyes and smiled. “Preferably something in purple…” Joker said softly. Joker had never seen the inside of Bruce’s house. It was nice and big, with a style much like that of the original before it had burned down. Bruce led Joker upstairs into the master bedroom, his bedroom. Bruce closed the door, Joker looked at him. “This is a nice place Brucey. It’s a lot like the old Manor…just a bit more “modern”.” Joker said looking around the bedroom. The bed was large, with black sheets on it. It was a rather dark room, done in dark colors. “So I’m going to assume that black is your favorite color?” he asked as Bruce handed him a glass of scotch. “Mm-hm.” Bruce replied with the glass on his lips.

    Joker drank from the glass, leaving red on the rim from his lips. Feeling the drink warm his body, Joker strolled over to Bruce. He wrapped an arm around his neck and played with Bruce’s wet hair. He turned Bruce’s head and kissed him softly on the lips. Bruce opened his lips allowing Joker to slide his tongue in. Joker began to go from depressed to aroused as he felt Bruce’s hands under his shirt and on his sides. The clown pressed against the man’s body, his arousal rising. “Oh god Bruce. You don’t know how badly I need this.” Joker said with a slight desperation in his voice. He began to rub against Bruce’s crotch with his own as they undressed each other. Peeling off the soaked vest and shirt that hid the Joker’s torso, Bruce saw how pale and scarred the Joker really was. Joker pulled off Bruce’s hoodie roughly and began to n** at his neck. He moaned as the Joker bit down hard. Bruce rubbed his hands on Joker’s sides, caressing his back as the grinding intensified. He grabbed the clown’s a**, pressing the Joker’s crotch harder against his own. He grinned as Joker’s hands unbuttoned his jeans. The clammy hands slid up and down Bruce’s sides. He pushed Bruce against the wall and the grinding increased. The erection in Bruce’s pants grew and throbbed with each touch of the mad man. “I want you…no I need you Bruce. NOW!” Joker shouted in both anger and lust. He pulled down Bruce’s pants and pulled the semi-naked man into a rough kiss further hardening the Joker’s erection as well as Bruce’s. Bruce pulled down the Joker’s pants. He looked into the Joker’s eyes. The emerald green spheres were filled with insanity and wild lust. “Turn around.” Joker commanded. Bruce had never seen the man this angry or strangely insane. “TURN AROUND!” he yelled loudly. Not wanting to upset him further, Bruce turned around, face against the wall. He felt the Joker kissing and biting the back of his neck, caressing and groping his a**. He smiled devilishly and insanely as he rammed himself deep inside Bruce. He screamed in pain as Joker pounded again and again in what seemed more like a fit of rage than an act of love or lust. The pain was almost too much for Bruce to bear, tears began to run down his face. Joker dug his fingers into Bruce’s sides, dragging the nails and leaving bleeding scratches. He continued to pound into Bruce relentlessly, he could hear Bruce’s moans of pleasure and his cries of pain. “DO YOU THINK I’M DOING THIS TO PLEASE YOU?!” he yelled suddenly. There were tears coming from his psychotic eyes now too, falling onto the reddened and scratched back of Bruce. “HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW?! NOT SO TOUGH ARE YOU, BATSY?!” he screamed. Bruce doubted that his psychotic lover had any idea of where he was. But the Joker continued, images of pain brought on by this man flooded his head as he practically raped Bruce. His grip grew tighter, nails dug in deeper. Bruce could hardly stand the pain but the pleasure was just too good to refuse. He moaned loudly, cried out Joker’s name, screamed, all these things as the Joker continued. Alfred came running down the hall. He began to pound on the door. “Master Wayne! Master Wayne!” he cried in fear. But he was ignored. The psychotic clown was in hell, a rage filled ecstasy that was driving him mad. Bruce’s pain began to slip away into deepening pleasure as he came close to climaxing. He arched his back, his face covered in sweat and tears. He moaned loudly, screaming Joker’s name madly as he climaxed. His body wished to go limp from the pain, but the Joker held onto him firmly. “Your mine Brucey! Mine and mine alone! I am the one who makes you scream, who makes you moan! ME! ME! And don‘t you EVER forget that!” He grinned like the mad man that he was, digging his nails deeper into Bruce’s already bleeding sides. He began to laugh as he pounded harder and harder into Bruce, feeling himself slip out of ecstasy as his climax soon approached. Alfred continued to bang on the door, crying to his master. This made the Joker laugh harder as he arched his back and thrusting, ejaculated into Bruce. He let Bruce’s hot, sweaty body fall to the floor with a thud as he stood over him and laughed, his face bearing a twisted grin.

    Alfred finally busted through the door only to stare in horror at what he saw. Joker stared at him, his make up running, green curls a mess, Glasgow scars turning his already twisted smile into an incredibly disturbing one. “Hello Alfred. I hope the noise didn’t bother you.” Joker said with a smirk, his body naked and glistening slightly in the dark room. Bruce looked up, tears still streaming slightly, his face reddened just like his body. He smiled weakly at Alfred. Trembling, he stood, exposing partly himself to Alfred. His whole body hurt but in a good way. Joker grabbed his arm roughly and pulled Bruce beside him. He kissed him on the forehead, leaving a slight red stain. “My god.” was all the British man could say. He stared in awe at Bruce. “My god.” he said again. Bruce sorely rubbed his neck while the Joker rubbed his side. A sudden change in personality had caused the Joker to go from a crying suicidal maniac to a rage filled maniacal monster. Bruce knew the Joker was insane but this-this took the cake. The whole act itself was disturbing, a pain and anger filled pleasure fest really. “Please leave Alfred.” Bruce commanded. Alfred, speechless still, walked out of the large bedroom quietly. Bruce turned towards the Joker, who was now staring off into space, eyes wild and holding a blank stare. “I have to go.” Joker said, still staring. He began to grab his clothes and slip them on hurriedly. The wild and blank stare grew more intense, it was as if the Joker had no idea of where he was. Bruce quickly slipped on his boxers and jeans to chase after the clown as he ran out the bedroom door. “Joker!” Bruce called out. He grabbed the man’s hand. He turned and looked Bruce in the eyes. Something was wrong with him, more so than usual. “Don’t go. Your staying right here.” Bruce commanded. Joker’s eyes grew wide and angry. Suddenly he struck Bruce. Hit him hard in the face, causing his lip to bleed. “Who in the HELL are you to tell me what I am and aren’t going to do?! I’m the goddamned Clown Prince of Crime! You don’t own me! No-no! I’m not your possession just because we had sex! I’m not yours just because you kept me from killing myself which is ultimately one of the possible inevitabilities along with dying by your hands or at the hands of someone else.” he clasped his hands around Bruce’s neck and squeezed, not tightly but just enough to make him squirm. “I own you. I own you Bruce. I always have and I always will. You’ve always been MINE.” he squeezed a little tighter. “I’m not doing this for the money! It’s never been about the money! I do it for the attention. I do it to get people to see me. For laughs, for a cheap thrill, for whatever the ******** I want it to be for. That’s why I do what I do.” Joker said with a smirk before releasing Bruce. “Joker…you sick ********. I love you, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” Bruce said pleading. Joker laughed and sarcastically wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Oh Brucey. Hurt MYSELF? There’s nothing worse I could do to myself that hasn’t already been done.” he said, opening the door to the outside. “If you want to…or even care anymore, I’ll be waiting for round two. And you know where to find me.” Joker kissed Bruce’s red stained and bleeding lips and ran out into the rain.

    Bruce leaned against the door way, staring off into the distance when Alfred approached him. A look of disgust and worry was on his tired face. He remained silent for a few more minutes. “We’ve changed everything Alfred.” Bruce looked down. “Nothing will ever be the same between him and I…” he pounded a fist against the frame of the doorway over and over. Blood ran slowly down his red sides, staining his jeans slightly. “Bruce, you have been a son to me since the day you were born, and even more so after the death of your parents-” he paused to see if the young man was listening. Alfred sighed. Bruce turned around, the light shined on the bruises and scratches on his torso. “-And as…disturbing I find this to be, your sudden relations with your greatest enemy, I know in my heart you will do what is right. Not just for you, but for Batman as well.” he said in his British tone, placing a hand on Bruce’s naked shoulder. Bruce turned and hugged Alfred, wrapping his arms around the older man and holding on to him. He began to cry. Alfred returned the hug, holding the trembling Bruce close to him. “I can’t-I can’t fight these feelings anymore Alfred. All these years, all these emotions bottled up. The hatred I have for the Joker just vanished when I saw him, on the roof about to fall. I don’t know what happened, how all this came to be, but I know it’s something I must accept.” Bruce said. He closed his eyes and laid his head on the butlers shoulder. “Alfred, please don’t leave me. I love you like a father, you’ve always been there for me and I need you now more than ever.” Alfred was stunned, but smiled. “I love you too, Bruce, my sweet boy. I would never leave you.”

    The Joker walked in anger, frustration and a multitude of other emotions. He absolutely dreaded returning to his hide-out. If he did that meant having to deal with Harley Quinn and her annoying babbling. “Why didn’t I just stay with Batsy? No, instead I had to freak out and punch him. Well whatever, he should be used to it by now.” Joker muttered under his breath.

    He reached a what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse type building and went inside. It was dark inside, not unusual seeing as the only people who were there were the Joker (when he wasn’t in jail or at Arkham), Harley Quinn, and the henchmen. He flipped a switch and the lights flicked on and buzzed lowly for a few seconds. “Helloooo? Anyone home?” Joker called out. He tapped his foot patiently while awaiting a response. He was about to call out again when he heard it. “Mistah J!! Mistah J your back!” cried a young woman. She was wearing nothing but a red bra, red panties and a red slip. Over her head was a black and red jesters cap, concealing her long blond hair. Her face was painted white like the Joker’s and there were black circles around her eyes like the Joker’s. She ran towards the Joker and jumped on him, wrapping him in a tight hug. He squirmed under her. Pushing her away, he growled in anger. “What have I told you about touching me?” he asked. Harley only smiled. “I’m sorry Mistah J! It’s just that I haven’t seen you in a couple of days and I thought you forgot about your puddin’!” she replied in a bubbly voice. Joker rolled his green eyes. “How could I possibly forget about you Harl?” he asked sarcastically. The Joker was tired and in no mood to play with his preppy apprentice. He walked into the so-called “living room” of the hide out and sat on a purple couch, turning away from Harley, who followed him like a puppy. She plopped down beside him and began to play with his green curls. This angered him highly. He didn’t like people messing with his hair, no matter how messy it was. He slapped Harley’s hand away and got up. “What’s wrong Puddin’?” Harley asked tugging on his arm. Joker shot her a glance that made her stop. “Stop. Touching. Me.” he said angrily through clenched yellow teeth. Harley backed away from the clown man. The Joker brought out a switchblade from his jacket and flicked it open. Harley yelped. She thought he was going to cut her but instead he slammed the blade hard into the table next to him. The blade went through to the handle and stopped. Harley could see the blade through the bottom of the table. He looked at the broken clock on the wall. It was about twelve a.m. Joker decided to try and sleep and headed to his bedroom, Harley in tow. He opened the door and walked inside and slammed it shut before Harley could get in. “Humph!” she said walking back towards her own room.

    Joker laid on top of the covers in nothing but his purple boxers. His hair was a mess and his makeup looked terrible. He trailed two fingers over his scars, every bump and dent a terrible reminder of his past. His mind raced. Thoughts of Bruce, of death, of blood filled his mind. He squeezed his black lids shut, hoping to block out the voices, but their chatter in his mind continued. He looked at the clock. Five am. “Fantastic…another day filled with bullshit.” Joker said out loud into the silence of his room. He rolled over. In his hand he clutched tightly to a tie he had stolen from Bruce’s house. Hopefully by now Bruce had found the tie he had left for him, in place of the one he now held.