piggy

Notes:

1. This fic takes place in the 1990s. Why? Why not?

2. This fic takes place in my own verse, so it’s not trying to connect to any pre-existing canon. My verse is based solely on the comics. It takes influence primary from Pre-Crisis era comics (mostly Bronze Age), but you will see some Post-Crisis influences here as well.

3. English is not my first language and this is nothing but a poor translation of the original work. There will be mistakes. Huge thank you to @inkdrawndreamer for helping me with English!

*

Pressure

(Part 1 out of 7)

Joker didn't know he was being watched. The radio played loudly in the cool and dimly lit room. The place had formerly been a repair shop for electronic devices, but now the last remaining husks of those apparatuses had been swept away to the corner and a various array of chemistry equipment, most of which seemed self-made and dangerous, sat on the tables. Even so, Joker wore no more protection than thin nitrile gloves. He did not even have his usual purple suit on, but rather he was dressed more casually in a simple dress shirt and straight pants. He measured various powders and liquids according to notes he had jotted down in a tattered looking notebook. So concentrated on his work he was, that he no longer heard the radio nor the sounds of cars driving in the night just on the other side of the wall. That, however, didn't mean he was deaf to all noise, not at all. His brain could filter out repetitive, familiar sounds, but every sudden, unfamiliar noise alarmed him. But he heard no such sound. Neither did he see any shadows on the wall or feel a breeze on his face from an open window. His senses received no information, which could have warned him of what was to come. Suddenly, a rope, tied to a loop, flew over his head and tightened around his chest, pressing his arms to his sides. Joker gasped from shock and so fast, that even he himself had no time to quite register what he was doing, he pulled out a knife from his pocket. The rope pulled him backwards. He didn't understand how Batman had managed to find him, but he would make sure he was not going back to Arkham Asylum today. The rope pulled him away from his table and toward the shadows at the edge of the room. He turned around and saw the outline of a large man dressed in black and grey standing where the singular ceiling light could not quite reach him.

”Nice of you to drop by, dear...” Joker began to speak and lifted the knife as high as the rope allowed, ”but I'm afraid I'm not quite ready for a reunion.”

Suddenly a hand clad in black leather grabbed his wrist. Joker froze, not because his attack had been parried, but because from the shadows, to which that dark suit seemed to swallow its bearer, glowed a row of white teeth in a big, smug grin.

”I do so enjoy it when you call me dear”, Hugo Strange said softly.

Joker felt a blush begin to form on his cheeks. He hated, that he could not think of any clever remark, that could salvage his plunder. Strange was precisely the same size as Batman and in the dark he had not seen Strange's black beard, the feature by which it was the easiest to tell the two apart. Joker's pulse began to steady. He lowered the knife, but stomped on Strange's foot in frustration.

”Hey!”

”Have you no manners? You could've knocked.”

Hugo laughed, tough it was clear his foot hurt.

”Since when has the Batman knocked?” he asked.

”You could show him example”, Joker answered and raised the knife again to cut the rope around him.

Hugo stopped him by taking the rope off before Joker could ruin it.

”I'm going to need that, you know”, he said.

Free from the rope Joker turned back to the table. He had read about Strange's recent escape from Arkham Asylum and had know Strange would seek him out sooner or later, after all, Strange knew of this hideout. That, of course, did not mean Joker was going to be hospitable.

”I'm sure you'll find your own way out”, he said coldly.

”You thought I was him, you really did”, Hugo said and he could hardly conceal just how excited and outright giddy he was.

Joker had to admit Strange had improved. Usually he could tell the two apart even without seeing Strange’s awful beard or hearing his voice, because Strange made mistakes. He couldn’t quite carry his cape right and it rustled in the dark, he didn’t take note of light sources and so his shadow tattled on him. If you saw or heard the Batman, then the Batman had wanted you to see or hear him. Joker didn’t like it, that Strange's training was bearing fruit, that that gap between Strange and Batman had began to narrow. To Joker, Batman was more than a human and every time Strange succeeded in something Batman could, it gnawed away at this perception.

”You got lucky. You'll never be him.”

Joker grabbed his notes from the table and tried to get back to where he had been, but it was as if he couldn't read anymore and it was not just because of his poor handwriting, but because his thoughts were elsewhere. His pulse quickened, he knew what was going to happen and hated himself for being so excited. At least he wouldn't give Strange the satisfaction as to let it show.

”Oh, I will be, you'll see”, Hugo said. “But I have to say it's amusing that you, who scorn me the most, were the first to accept me.”

”That wasn't me accepting you and you know it”, Joker snarled. “I've done dumber things while drunk.”

Now he could hear Strange's slow footsteps behind him as he was no longer trying to conceal them.

”Oh, yes it was.”

”I've been in Arkham long enough to know better than to argue with nutcases. Believe what you will, but just because you believe something, doesn't mean it true."

Strange's footsteps had come to a stop. Somehow Joker could sense Strange's presence right behind him, even though Strange made no contact. Joker could feel goose bumps form on his skin.

”There's only one Batman and it's not you”, Joker said quietly, more to himself than to Strange, more to those feelings in his body than to the man behind him, who was causing them.

Joker felt a light touch on his waist. He drew in breath and his eyes closed for a moment. He felt his back arch almost involuntary, but only so slightly, that it was not visible. Joker could feel Strange move. He felt Strange’s cheek brush against his hair as Strange leaned to his ear.

”Not yet”, Strange said quietly.

Joker could feel warm air against his earlobe and neck. It made his skin tingle. He felt a burn in his lower abdomen.

”But it was wise of you to jump ship before it goes under”, Strange continued.

He raised his hand to Joker's cheek. Joker could feel leather fingers brush his skin lightly.

”When I'm Batman, I won't be this gentle with those... friends of yours.”

”If you're going to hurt Gaggy Gagsworthy, I will do everything in my power to stop you, if you're going to hurt Riddler, please let me tag along”, Joker said, delighted that he had found something to joke about.

Hugo laughed and turned Joker around.

”I've always liked you and that means something, because I hardly like anyone”, Hugo said. He grabbed Joker by the chin and brought his face right to his own. ”You'll have it good when I'm Batman.”

Strange's lips relaxed and parted invitingly. Joker's lips mimicked them without him really even realising, Strange tilted his head and moved his face closer. Joker eyes began to shut and that was a mistake. Suddenly he cried from pain. Strange had stomped his heel onto Joker's foot.

”But remember, my patience is limited.”

”I didn't step with my whole weight!” Joker yelled.

”Though you should have. It hurts more.”

Joker pulled Strange towards him by the front of his cape and kissed him angrily. It had been a while since he had last tasted those lips and even though he could honestly say he had not really missed the taste, it lit something inside him just like last time and all the times before that. Strange’s hands rose to Joker's cheeks. He kissed him with force. Joker hated how Strange's beard felt against his face, he hated the scent that now surrounded him. There was not a trace of the dirt and blood and sweat, that always surrounded Batman, that he had come to know so well, that he had come to find so arousing. Strange smelled clean, freshly showered, disgusting. Batman did not smell like this. Underneath Strange's shower gel, he could smell the natural scent of his skin. It was rich, deep, dark and it was familiar, after all, he had lived under one roof with this man in Arkham Asylum.

Strange's hands dropped from Joker's face, one grabbed his lower back, one swooped underneath his ass. Joker felt his feet lift from the floor. He pressed against Strange, as Strange picked him up with ease. Joker looked at him annoyed, Strange smiled back, seemingly enjoying the way he was making Joker feel.

Hugo could see Joker’s hands move, could feel the touch of the nitrile gloves on his cheeks, as Joker slid his fingers underneath his mask, but still holding Joker in the air, he could not resist as Joker pulled the mask from his face. He made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. He knew this was Joker's way of driving home the point, that he was not Batman, but at that moment he was in a good enough mood as for it to only mildly annoy him. Some day that trick would stop working, someday he would be Batman with or without the mask and Joker was just going to have to accept it. Hugo carried Joker away from the table where he had been working. There was another table in the room, this one without all the delicate equipment, that might explode at any moment. Hugo set him on that table.

As soon as Joker was seated, Strange kissed him again. He wrapped his arms around Joker's back and bit his teeth down onto his lower lip. Joker heard a quiet sigh escape his throat and before he could even blush from embarrassment, he felt Strange loosen his bite to let out an almost silent laugh. Joker didn’t know who he wanted to hit more: himself or Strange? He was about to introduce Strange to his own teeth, about to remind him who he was dealing with, when something came between them. Strange's tongue slid into his mouth. It disgusted Joker and yet still he felt arousal burn even hotter in his abdomen. Joker tasted Strange’s saliva, felt the warmth of his mouth. His back arched again and this time Strange had to feel it, as he had his arms wrapped around Joker and for a moment, he squeezed Joker even tighter, as if to answer to Joker's body. Joker felt his legs spread on their own and without permission. He kept his eyes shut tight, because he knew Strange was smiling that smug grin he hated.

Hugo broke the kiss to get to work on Joker's shirt. Button by button pure white skin, hiding under the shirt, was revealed. Hugo pulled the hem of Joker's shirt from his pants and pushed the front pieces to the side, so that Joker's entire white chest was bare. His pink nipples were stiff from arousal and from the cool air of the room. He pulled Joker's shirt off entirety and tossed it onto the floor. Then he grabbed Joker's wrist and pulled of his nitrile glove and did the same to the other. Joker's fingers were long and thin. His hands and arms were covered in many scars, old and new. Long nails were painted black, but the colour was flaking. Hugo's hands began to wander on Joker's bare skin. Joker's eyes closed on their own as he felt that leathery touch. Hugo smiled, he knew the effect those gloves had on Joker. He kissed Joker again while his fingers caressed his collarbones, his chest, his nipples, his stomach. Slowly his fingers travelled to the waist of Joker's pants.

”I'm not doing anal today. I don’t feel like getting ready”, Joker said.

Hugo hummed.

Hugo opened the belt and the zipper of Joker’s pants. Joker was wearing a pair of black and grey Batman underwear the front of which was clearly bulging and the part, where the tip of Joker's cock touched the fabric, was damp from precum. Of course Hugo wanted to believe Joker was dressed in his merchandise and not Bruce Wayne's, but he could not lie to himself. Hugo stepped as close to the table as he could and pulled Joker in so that their erections, still kept apart by layers of fabric, touched. Joker let out a sigh again as he felt Strange press against him. His hands caressed the large muscles on Strange’s back. Hugo kissed him again, but only shortly, because soon he lifted Joker up once more. With one hand he could keep Joker up for the moment that it took to pull his pants and underwear to his knees. He set Joker back on the table and Joker wished he had not spilled any dangerous chemicals where his bare ass now touched.

Hugo looked at Joker's cock. The staff was pure white and adorned with a few blue veins, the little bit of the glans that Hugo could see peeking behind the foreskin, was a soft, hazy pink colour. Very pretty. He lifted Joker's leg to take off his shoes and socks and so that the pant leg dropped onto the floor with them.

”Is that really necessary?”

”Yes”, Hugo answered and did the same to the other leg.

Once the pants, socks and shoes lied on the floor, Hugo put his leather clad hands on Joker's thighs and squeezed gently. The hands began to wander his skin. First they moved to the hips, then the back, where one stayed, the other rose all the way to the green curls. Holding onto Joker's hair, Hugo guided Joker's mouth to his own. Joker could taste Strange's saliva again.

The radio kept playing and cars passed by the building. Perhaps some sort of need for attention made Joker get turned on by the thought, that just behind that one wall was an entire road full of people to serve as an audience for this spectacle, but at the same time, he did not want anyone to know who playing the supporting role here. He would die from embarrassment, if it came to be known he was fucking Hugo Strange – that failed, insane psychiatrist turned Batman imposter. After all, Joker was the biggest star of Gotham's underworld, it did not fit his carefully crafted image for some batcopycat to undress him like this. Yet, there he sat, rock hard and with Strange's tongue in his mouth. He was pathetic.

Joker's fingers began fiddling with the hem of Strange’s shirt and soon he broke the kiss to pull Strange's shirt from his briefs and to lift it all the way up to Strange's collarbones, so that all of his broad, hairy chest was visible. Let Strange believe, thought Joker, that all he wanted was to see some skin, but really he could not stand the sight of the batsymbol on Strange's chest. Not that he didn’t enjoy pressing his hands into Strange's big, warm pecs, of course.

Hugo looked at Joker for a moment. A soft blush had formed on his white cheeks, that went well with his red lips. Joker looked at him through lazy, half shut eyes, almost as if there was nothing else to see but Hugo. Between his eyebrows, however, was a slight groove, as if he did not quite like what he was seeing. Hugo could not help but smile.

Joker knew, that Hugo knew his feelings toward Batman, but what Joker did not know, was that Hugo also knew Batman's feelings toward Joker. Hugo found it incredibly sexy to be fucking someone, who was so important to Wayne, who Wayne in some way thought of as his own, who, Hugo knew, Wayne secretly craved, but could never let himself indulge in. But what Hugo and Joker were doing had to also remain secret. Hugo could never boast about fucking Wayne's worst and dearest enemy, because that would spell the end of their nights together. Joker would not touch him again, if he told anyone, that was how ashamed Joker was of it all. A dirty secret was fun, erotic, exiting, an embarrassing secret was just that – embarrassing. That was the only thing that brought down Hugo’s mood. The fact that he was not Joker’s dirty secret, he was the embarrassing secret. Joker truly thought fucking him was nothing but embarrassing, a stain on his reputation, a mistake.

Hugo pressed Joker's back against the table, Joker did not resist. Joker's long legs hung over the ledge of the table on either side of Hugo. Hugo pressed his hand onto Joker's abdomen, he felt Joker's muscles tighten from the touch and his back arch. His hand ran down to Joker's hips, taking a firm hold. Hugo's other hand squeezed gently around Joker's cock, Joker could not hold back the weak noise, that wanted out off his throat. Hugo began to stroke Joker's cock. Joker's breathing quickened, he grabbed the edge of the table to secure himself. Hugo continued in a slow pace. Again, he knew how much Joker liked his, or to be honest, Batman's gloves, and for as long as Batman refused to use his gloves like this, Joker would keep coming to him, Hugo thought. He watched how Joker's chest rose and fell, how he panted, how he bit his lip and how he clawed at the edge of the table. But this was not all about Joker.

With one hand Hugo opened the buckle of his utility belt and let it fall onto the floor with a clang. Joker was not even looking that way, but that sound alone made him thrust his hips towards Strange's hand. He heard Strange laugh quietly, but he had already lost he ability to get mad. The feel of those leathery fingers around his cock had him under a spell that made him forget all else. However, suddenly it all stopped. Joker could not help letting out a small whine.

”So impatient”, Strange said.

Joker looked up and saw that Strange had needed both hands to get his cock out from the tight briefs of his suit. Again, Joker let out a stupid sound he would surely feel embarrassed about tomorrow. Every time he saw Strange's cock felt like the first time. It was of a respectable size, thick and adorned by impressive veins. He felt his mouth water. His nails squeezed the table harder, but he hardly even noticed it any more. Somehow seeing that cock made his brain dim.

Hugo took both of their cocks into his hand. Joker's head tilted back as skin touched skin. He really wished he had not been lazy and had gotten cleaned up to do anal, because now he wanted nothing more than to feel that cock inside of him again. His legs wrapped around Strange's back. Joker's hand, the one that was not holding onto the table, gripped Strange's muscular forearm and squeezed it with all his strength.

Hugo bit his lip. His breathing quickened and his eyes wanted to close, but the kept them on Joker. He looked at the beautiful arch Joker's body formed. Watched how the muscles of his stomach twitched, watched his chest move with the air flow. Joker's cheeks were bright red and his expression, that was somewhere in-between pain and pleasure, was incredibly arousing. He felt an immense satisfaction, that he had such an affect on Joker. He looked so vulnerable there, naked and with nothing to protect himself with because Hugo had stripped him of everything he had. Hugo clenched his jaw and picked up the pace. It seemed Joker had abandoned all shame, because he was making noise with every stroke, squirmed on the table and squeezed Hugo between his legs hard. Hugo knew Joker would not last long and neither would he. He hastened still. He heard Joker swear beneath him, but he could no longer see anything, as his eyes shut all by themselves. Time and place seemed to disappear. If the radio still played, he did not hear it, if odd chemicals still floated in the air, he did not smell them, if the street lamps still shined through the blinds, he did not see them. It felt as if the sense of touch was the only sense left in him and that all that empty space in his brain was handed over to it, because the pleasure, that seemed to fill his entire body, was almost unbearable.

Hugo's whole body twitched and he really had to hold onto Joker, so that his knees would not give in. Cum, that had already made a mess on Joker's chest, was still running down his cock. He panted heavily. Joker's thighs, that had just squeezed him with all their might, now began to relax, dropping to hang off the table. Joker's face was blushing red and he panted just as heavy as Hugo.

Hugo straightened up, though all he really wanted was to crash on top of Joker and simply be for a moment. He grabbed a piece of kitchen towel from the table, wiped his cock and gloves and threw the used up piece onto the floor. He pulled his shirt back down and his briefs up and picked the utility belt off the floor. Joker, whose breathing began to settle, sat up.

”I guess you don't live here anymore”, Hugo said, still a little out of breath, as he fastened his belt. ”Doesn't seem lived in, this place.”

Hugo still remembered how the place had looked like, when he had first found Joker in it. In another room, Joker had had a sofa, a TV, movies and other various conveniences. Now, as he had broken in, he had seen only a mattress and not even that had seemed to be in much use. If the place had been robbed, then everything would have been taken. It felt more likely that Joker himself had been moving his things elsewhere.

”I have a real apartment now with a shower and all. I only came here to make more Joker toxin.”

”Where did you find an apartment this time?” Hugo asked, even though he knew he would not get an answer.

”Where do you live, then? Why do we always meet in my hideouts? Let's go to your place for once.”

”Are you often over at Batman's? I didn't think so. Batman is the one who comes to you.”

”It would be a nice change of pace, and you're still not Batman.”

”Are we really arguing about this again?”

”We're going to be arguing about it until you take off that Halloween costume.”

”You wouldn't be with me without his costume.”

”...”

”How much longer will making your toxin take?”

Joker looked at his equipment.

”I was going to make a bigger batch. It'll take time”, he said.

”So I will find you here again?”

”If I happen to be around”, Joker shrugged.

”Surely our schedules will line up again one day.”

”Maybe, maybe not”, Joker said. He thought it important that Hugo didn’t think he was always available and willing, though he was pretty much always available and willing.

”Oh, I believe they will. Until next time.”

Joker felt like throwing the kitchen towel roll at that smug grin, but settled on just ripping out a piece to clean his chest. Hugo had already turned to leave, when Joker spoke again:

”So, are you coming on Saturday?”

”Huh?”

”Pengy's holding a party on Saturday. He's rented some villa outside of town, so Batman shouldn't be a problem. All of my friends are coming. Did Pengy not invite you?” he laughed.

”I think it's best Cobblepot doesn't have my contact information”

”He doesn't have mine either, but Eddie told.”

”Surely you know he only hosts those parties to get intel on what everyone's up to?”

”Yeah, and money from those overpriced drinks, but I still go every time. Of course he gets the latest gossip, but so do I. Just hold your tongue and you learn more than you spill.”

”I don't care about your gossip.”

”Well, hey, spend another Saturday night home alone, what do I care. Jervis might be disappointed, though.”

”Jervis? Why would he be disappointed?”

”He was asking about you. I met up with Johnny last week”, Joker said and Hugo knew he meant Jonathan Crane, ”he bought some, uhh, cooking equipment from me. Jervis was there too and he asked have I seen you.”

”Why does he want to see me?”

Joker's voice got angry as he answered:

”He didn't say, not that I even care, the only thing I care about is, why was he asking me?”

Hugo raised an eyebrow.

Joker got off the table and with eyes narrow he accosted:

”Where did he get the idea, that I might know where you are? That he could get a hold of you through me?”

”Are you implying that I would have told him I've been fucking you now and then?” Hugo asked, he was staring to get angry as well. ”I've told nobody.”

”Well for some reason he seems to think-”

”He seems to think all sorts of nonsense. His mad, it's in the name. And maybe he's been asking everybody he's ran into.”

”That's what he told me, but he could be lying.”

”You worry over nothing, he doesn't know anything.”

Joker was quiet for a moment, then he said:

”If it turns out, you've-”

”I haven't and this conversations is over. We will meet when I find the patience in me to tolerate you again”, Hugo said, pulled his mask on and left.

Hugo panted. He had travelled a long way running and jumping from roof to roof and just now had climbed to the top of the tower of St. Vitus Cathedral in Amsterdam Avenue. His body radiated heat into the cool night, sweat glued his outfit to his skin. That constant grin on his face hurt his cheeks, but he could not relax, even though he was getting tired, more tired than he should be after such exercise. Now, however, that extra pain in his body simply felt lovely.

Three months he had withered away in Arkham Asylum. Three months in crammed, colourless rooms. All edges rounded and surfaces padded, to make sure nothing would feel like anything. His soul was too hot-blooded for that tiny, fenced yard, his will too endless for that sad excuse of a gym. Arkham Asylum as a whole was simply too small and soft for him. But now the night of this metropolis lay on his lap, now powerful emotions shook all of his senses. Everything felt exciting, sharp, crisp. Now he could put himself to the test, to push his body and mind to their limits. Do something, achieve something, feel something.

He swung his batrope and glided to the next building and then the next, even though his body complained. He hadn't been able to train properly at Arkham and it showed. He knew he would be aching all over tomorrow, but he could not slow down. After all, Wayne did not slow down and so neither could Hugo, if he wanted to beat Wayne. A soft darkness covered the world around him. Covered all details, covered all faults. Gave room for imagination to run free. Created a new world, where anybody could anything and anything could be anyone. Where every lightweight dressed in black could be a terrible threat and a piece of trash flying in the wind a predator. But morning was approaching and the sun would steal away the fantasy of the night and would show things as they truly were – insignificant, rough, boring. It was time to go home.