Work Text:
What is this pain in my head? The clown stirred from him mysterious blackout, wincing, he slowing opened his eyes to get used to the light. The white light above him was irritating, he grumbled lowly and attempted to cover his eyes – and then he flinched at the soreness on his wrists, which were being bound by cold metallic bondage. “What the heck?“ He moved his arms again, this time more violently, not even concerning the scratches and the blood which started to seep under his skin.
Tilting up his head, he saw his wrists being bound to the bars of a bed with a handcuff. Now since when the cops fancied such a kink? The clown hissed and struggled, growling furiously as all he got was more and more scratches on his reddened wrists. “Son of a bitch…” He was helplessly lying there on his back, which luckily did not hurt much other from feeling sore after lying there in the same position for quite some time. Furrowing his brows, he licked his scars again and again, extremely annoyed by the situation. His pointless fight made loud noises, the tingling sounds and his raged groans filled the room with tension.
As the clown was still busy pulling his sore wrists from the handcuffs, the door quietly swung open with a soft creak; it alerted the clown who almost sprung from the bed, just being dragged down once again in vain. Crane entered the room with a hideous grin on his face, not saying a word as he stared straightly in the clown’s bloodshot eyes. He closed the door behind him and leant on it, biting his bottom lip just to restrain his laughter. The clown glared from across the room, his eyes burning with rage but his position now was obviously inadequate of threatening the good doctor. “What is this all about, doctor?”
Crane shifted his balance from a foot to another, still fairly satisfied in seeing Joker being restricted to a bed in his sight, hopelessly trying to free himself but never succeeding. “How are you feeling?” He stepped away from the door, his heels clicking on the wooden flooring, the sounds clear and melodious. Approaching the clown, Crane felt the thrill run through him as if he was struck by a rolling thunder, his fingers twitched inside his pockets, yearning to lay upon those scars on the clown’s face right there and then. Joker grunted mockingly, even with his arms stretched above his head, he did not give up his vanity and madness in his glare. The two never broke the eye contact, not even when the prolonged stare began to turn into a mutual unspoken passion behind their retina.
“Never thought you had a thing for bondage,” the clown licked his lips then tore his lips into a wide grin, showing his teeth and tilting his head with a judging frown, “Putting down an unwilling patient like this is barbaric, indecent. What kind of doctor are you? Show me your license again.” Joker had long forgotten the tingling pain in his head, they seemed to be never existent; he narrowed his eyes as the doctor sat down next to him, those cold blue eyes hinting a little plan in the doctor’s head. “How about I show you something else?” Crane chuckled softly and trailed a finger against Joker’s collar, winking at the clown mischievously. The clown grunted in discontent and looked away, “God, stop it!” His reaction made Crane laugh, those laughter sounded so innocent, if he had not known the doctor good enough, he would simply lower his defenses at before this beautiful face.
“Whether you like it or not,” Crane’s palm rested upon Joker’s heaving chest, talking as he followed the tempo of the mad man’s breathing, his purposely harmonizing annoyed the clown even more, “You don’t get to choose.” Before the clown could shoot back a sarcastic retort, the doctor climbed up on top of him and casually rested his weight right upon Joker’s hip. Joker growled lowly, shifting violently but then Crane was not as weak as he seemed to be; only if the clown had his hands free, he then might manage to regain the dominance in the situation. “Hush, just a regular body check. No needles, no drugs. I promise.” “I promise. Aw, how sweeeeet of you.” Crane did not hold a grudge on Joker’s sarcastic imitation, he was too overwhelmed at the task laid in front of him. Those scars were there, just in his reach and all his to touch and feel.
His hands stopped right before touching those scarred lips. Merely hovering his pale fingers over the curves, his light blue eyes lit up with curiosity. Joker felt uneasy; he rarely would feel out of his comfort zone, even if he claimed to be crept out, most of the time he was utterly lying. But the doctor sure made him anxious. “What are you doing?” He questioned, shivering as the cold fingertips tapped on his neck. “Body check. Merely scientific, nothing… personal.” Crane grinned at the clown as he wrapped his fingers around Joker’s neck, pressing firmly at the throbbing artery and counting under his breath. The doctor lowered his entire self onto the clown, his face pressed against Joker’s neck as his breathy voice tickled the clown. “I could feel the rush in your blood,” Crane lifted up and let his lips brush gently at Joker’s earlobe before whispering in a hoarse voice, his desire to know overriding all his left sanity. “Even for me, you are truly creepy.” The wet touch on the ear gave the clown an unexpected shudder along with a careless moan which escaped his scarred lips. “Your pulse is rapid. Quickening still. I like that.” The doctor ignored the clown’s comment and continued his diagnosis, adding inappropriate notes at the end of his sentence and biting Joker’s ear teasingly. “Ouch!” Joker cried out in protest, and then with a deep growl he turned his head to bite the doctor on the neck, not letting go until he tasted the sweetness of the other man’s blood.
The doctor gasped loudly and flinched away, yet the shock turned into mad laughter in seconds. “Ah, you are fierce.” He touched his neck and wiped away the blood and saliva, his gaze burning with a mixture of fury and bloodlust, yet his grin never faded. “You bit me first,” even though it was quite a nice tease, the clown added silently in his heart and pulled an innocent face. Crane hissed and ran his palms along the clown’s restricted arms, caressing the muscles only being separated by the thin smooth fabric of the clown’s tailor made shirt; he smirked and dived down to bite on Joker’s nose teasingly, and his hands grabbed that of the clown’s, having their fingers intertwined in an awkward intimacy. The doctor laughed as Joker squeezed his hands so tight it almost crushed his slender bones, he managed to free himself by grinding his lower part against the man and within a blink, his doctor’s hands were free again.
“You look like an animal,” Crane spoke softly as the clown scowled and struggled from his handcuffs again; Crane bit his lip, letting his hand slide over Joker’s cheek and then cupping his face so they were looking at each other directly in the eyes, “But I like it very much.” Joker winced and flinched slightly as Crane’s thumb ran across his scars, the touch disturbing his mind to an extent that it was awfully disgusting; that should be what he had felt, for all other times when some foolish nurse in Arkham attempted to touch him on the cheeks. Somehow the doctor’s touch was different; still irritating but not entirely displeasing. Joker stared at the doctor who was so concentrated in the touching and observing, he was somehow intrigued by the tinges of blue in those eyes. Joker felt the soft fingertips brush across his bad scars, the irregular bumps on his cheeks which many found unsettling. He shivered again as those fingers met his lips, he felt the heat on the lips which was like a flame being lit up by the thrilling touch.
“A clean cut…” Crane murmured softly, looking very serious as he investigated those scars. He started to construct theories and scenarios in his head; he wondered if the clown was conscious after the first cut, for that would imply being drugged to force the mind stay conscious under such unbearable pain. He wondered who it was who gave him these scars; he wondered if that particular person had managed to escape the hands of this homicidal clown. Did he stitch himself? Or did he even stitch at all? The unpleasant recovery implicated a ridiculously poor treatment after the wounding, and even throughout the whole recovery period. “Do you want to know how I got these scars?” The clown’s mocking voice pulled Crane back from his wandering thoughts and the two locked gaze in silence for a couple of seconds. Of course I do, the doctor answered in his head, but instead of admitting he said something else, “One of your scar stories again? I personally enjoy them, but I believe what I see more than what you speak of.”
Crane was about to continue on his thinking, but then he noticed the slight absurdity on the clown’s face. He frowned and pondered, then wiping off some of the grease paint, the doctor could not help but laugh out loudly at his discovery, “You are blushing.” Joker grit his teeth without saying a word, he was somehow embarrassed under the caressing. He would not tell the doctor that the scars were an extremely part of him and he felt exposed enough to blush as the doctor were looking and touching them so closely. Crane did not take back his hands, but nor did he squint at those scars; his fingers were now merely caressing those scarred lips as if out of sheer concern, enjoying the small reactions of the clown’s as he did so. “I’ll show you something nice.” He hummed and lowered his head again, brushing his lips at the scars and shamelessly gliding the tip of his tongue over the uneven contours. There was a soft moan which neither of them would admit to be theirs, but the sensation shared was an undeniable fact; the clown wanted to grabbed the doctor and pin him down on this bed for all the mischief he had done, but being handcuffed, all he could do was bite onto those lush lips as they kissed upon his.
Crane hummed contently and slipped his hand down to Joker’s chest, enjoying the roughness in their kissing. The clown bit harder, hurting the doctor and earned himself the soft whimpers from the arrogant man, Joker could not suppress his smug grin. “You know I could do so much more with my hands, um, free.” The clown hinted with a wink, purring from his chest. Crane took a deep breath, his gaze flickering as he thought about the idea; then he shook his head, leaving a smooch on the clown’s cheek, “Maybe next time. There are still a lot of things I could do to you, you know…” Swiftly unbuttoning the purple shirt of Joker’s, Crane caressed the chest and sealed the clown’s lips with another deep kiss. “Sadist doctor,” hissed the clown, yet not really complaining as the doctor’s touch travelled downwards.
The clown’s arms were sore, being held in the same position for all this time, but now the rising heat provided him a strong distraction from the pain. He wanted to move his hands and tear the layers of fabric off the doctor; they both started to pant heavily and moving their bodies, yearning for more friction. Joker was comparatively immobile and thus he simply enjoyed the teasing grinding from Crane’s thighs, the sensitive parts of them both growing painfully hard as being trapped in those trousers. Joker imagined how he would shove the doctor against the wall in his iron grip and make him experience the thrill and pain, almost frustrated a loud groan escaped his lips as he started to move his waist at steady rhythm, releasing the erotic whimpers the doctor managed to cage within his throat. “You’ll have to serve yourself, doctor,” Joker giggled frantically as Crane moaned at his tease, he sucked softly at the doctor’s earlobe and leaving it in a hot and wet mess.
Crane lifted his eyes in a protesting glare, and then he buried his face at the clown’s neck, leaving marks with his bites and kisses. Joker hummed merrily and watched without blinking as the pale male went steep, whimpering in between his trail down to the belly. Pulling the shirt wide open, Crane hurried himself to get rid of those tailor made trousers; as his hands were busy with the buckle, the doctor deliberately threw the clown a teasing glance, rubbing his face against those thighs and kissing his crotch despite the fabric in between them. “Oh doctor, you are naughty,” Joker licked his lips and stared in amusement; he could feel the throbbing heat in him urging to be touched and buried in some deep warmth. The doctor replied with a proud grin, pulling those trouser away and he shifted himself just to allow his mouth to take in what was there waiting.
The bed screeched and the handcuffs kept making tingling noises as the clown being pleasured shifted under the sensation; he moaned as well as laughed, completely amused by what the doctor was capable of doing. He had the urge to break this man in all possible ways, yet not to maim or kill, simply wanting to see the face furrow and the slender body twitch in agony. Well, twitching in lustful pleasure would be nice too… The clown grinned widely as he enjoyed the view of Crane’s lips wrapped around his erection, soon he started to thrust and force the doctor to get accustomed to his rhythm. Almost choking, Crane steadied himself and glared up at the clown furiously, his cheeks and lips all flushed and red.
“That fierceness, I like that,” Joker chuckled, yet still slightly annoyed by the fact that his hands were bound up above his hand; if they were free, he would run his fingers in those soft brown hair and hold the doctor in place. “Just serve yourself, would you? Aren’t you aching for me now?” Crane growled at the mockery; being read clearly by the clown was humiliating yet also tempting. Who said he was the only one who knew how to manipulate after all? “I would surely enjoy myself,” his cheeks blushing, Crane got on his feet and stripped off his clothes, not leaving anything covering his soft flesh. He bit his lips as Joker’s gaze scanned his naked torso, hearing that deep humming which came from the clown’s chest, he did not need to check himself to know he was awfully turned on. Joker raised an eyebrow, now he had finished visually devouring the doctor’s body, and urged in a teasing tone, “Come on. You started it.” “You’re not in charge, clown,” the doctor hissed, getting hold of Joker’s hot erection and carefully letting the hard flesh in, he moaned loudly, his eyes half lid, “You’ll be screaming and begging, and I’ll know it; even if you don’t make a sound, I’ll see it in your eyes.”
Joker managed to contain himself at the thrilling pleasure; every slight movement of the doctor made him shiver from his soul. None of them even tried to hold back their moans as the tides of satisfaction pushed them towards the edge of ecstasy; they let their voices sound freely, taking full of the enjoyment in the sex sounds they made. Crane was breathless as he wriggled his waist and moved up and down, feeling the burning length inside him; he panted heavily; even his whimpers were weak. The clown was licking his lips with a triumphant grin, the two of them hardly breaking their gaze. Crane kept on moving as he lowered himself onto the clown, his hands crawling from the belly up towards the scarred face once more; his blue eyes were clouded with lust, his body covered with sweat. He ran his fingers over those scars again, they were just scars, but there was something special about them which kept the doctor amused; he wondered what that was, but hardly finding a likely answer.
Joker leant closer to close the gap between their lips as the doctor was lost in his strange little thoughts again. As soon as he heard the doctor moaning into his mouth, the clown knew the other male was back being there with him now, all consumed with lust. He started to thrust himself, taking pleasure in every shattered whimper of the doctor’s as he forced himself into the delicate body. The rough invasion ended in a loud synchronized moan with the doctor clinging to the clown, both soaked with sweat and drowned in the left sensations which danced around in their heads. Something resided within them, but it was too subtle and hardly noticed.
“So can you get these handcuffs off me now?” Joker rasped, chuckling breathlessly as he turned his head and felt the soft hair in his face. “Later,” the doctor chuckled with him, sounding tired but no less evil, “Let me cuddle you a bit then I’ll free you.” “Oh god, help me.” The clown rolled his eyes, then finding the doctor purring softly into his neck, seemingly asleep. He sighed, trying to struggle and free himself again.