batjokes oneshots

Nightmares

A/N: i don't know the artist featured above I'm sorry! please tell me if you know who they are!!

The thick, velvet curtains shifted as a cold wind blew through the window and into the large bedroom. Bruce Wayne lay in the centre of his king bed on top of the comforter.
Void of any clothing besides a pair of considerably expensive boxer briefs, he shivered with every breeze that flowed through the window. He convulsed, twitched, and let out soft whimpers every once in a while in his sleep.

Eventually, he shot up, a cold sweat coating his skin. He sighed as he laid back down on the soft mattress and closed his eyes, but sleep wouldn't retake him. Visions of blood, fire, and bruises filled his mind.

The Joker clung to the side of the manor desperately as he looked down at the miles of space between him and the solid ground. He nudged the large duffle bag on his shoulder closer. He eventually gathered the strength to heave himself up and fling himself over the sill of the window.
He stumbled into the bedroom, catching himself just as he was about to fall. He gazed at the figure that lay in the bed in front of him.

Bruce had eventually fallen back asleep. His fingers and legs twitched and his breathing was quiet and even. The Joker grinned widely as he loomed over Bruce, setting the bag down next to the bed.
He quietly sat down on the edge of the bed, still watching Bruce.

"You're so cute when you're sleeping, Batsy.." He whispered, running his fingers along Bruce's back softly.

Bruce jolted awake at the touch. He looked over at the Joker and quickly scrambled away. "What are you doing here?!" He exclaimed.

"Calm down, Bats. I'm not here to hurt you," Joker replied as he turned his body to face Bruce. He tucked his legs under himself comfortably.

Bruce took note of the Joker's unusually calm nature but still decided to attempt to cover himself with his sheets.

Joker looked Bruce up and down. He removed his shoes, setting them down on the floor beside the bed.
"You look like you've had some trouble sleeping," he said as he crawled across the bed towards Bruce.

"What do you want?" Bruce asked, tensing up.

Joker huffed. "You can't be that untrustworthy of me. I'm worried about my worst enemy is all.."

Bruce scoffed, looking away. "You're not worried.. You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"

"First of all, I've never really tried to kill you. And second, I can be worried about you," Joker spoke. His voice sounded sincere. Uncharacteristic.

Bruce had never seen this side of Joker. He pondered if Joker was being genuine in his worry. He looked at the Joker, studying him, trying to find any evidence of deception. To the Joker's avail, Bruce found none.

"So let's say you are telling the truth-"

"Which I am," Joker interjected.

"Sure, we'll see.." Bruce began, "How would you even help me? Or try to, anyway."

Joker thought for a moment before slowly moving closer to Bruce. He carefully put his arms around Bruce, pulling him in for a hug.

"I.. I'm not gay, Joker," Bruce pointed out.

"I know and this doesn't have to be," Joker responded, "Hugs aren't always gay, you know."

Bruce sighed, relaxing slightly. He carefully hugged Joker back. Bruce took notice of how thin the Joker really was. He could feel the ridges on Joker's spine through his coat.
"Do you ever eat?" Bruce asked.

"Every once in a while.. when I feel like it," Joker answered.

The Joker pulled away after a while, removing his coat. "Now then, lay down."

Bruce's face flushed softly. Barely visible in the dark. "Why?" He asked.

"You're gonna get a good night of sleep if it's the last goddamn thing I do, Bats," Joker replied.

Bruce hesitated before laying down on his back. He stared at the Joker.

Joker got off of the bed, removing his vest then beginning to unbutton his shirt.

Bruce sat up. "Hey, what are you doing?" He inquired, nervous.

"I'm just getting changed. Don't get your hopes up, batboy," Joker answered.

"Why?"

Joker pulled his shirt off, not answering. Bruce gazed at Joker's bare back. He could see the outline of Joker's shoulder blades and spine moving as he reached down and pulled a t-shirt out of his bag.

Joker paused just before he was about to pull the shirt over his head and looked over his shoulder at Bruce. "Like what you see?" he asked, grinning.

Bruce looked away, laying back down. "Just put a shirt on."

Joker pulled the shirt on. It was cut at his ribs, so it didn't cover much. He tugged off his pants and threw the rest of his clothes on the floor next to the bag.
He crawled over to Bruce.
"Ready~" he chirped, sitting down beside Bruce.

Bruce still didn't look at him. "Just do whatever you need to do.."

Joker smirked, laying down on his side next to Bruce. He watched Bruce's chest rise and fall slowly, eventually placing his hand on Bruce's chest.

Bruce flinched, glaring at Joker. "What are you doing?" He hissed, grabbing Joker's wrist. He didn't move it away though.

"I can feel your heartbeat.. It just got fast," Joker giggled.

Bruce's face flushed a deep pink. He huffed and looked away, letting go of Joker.

Joker slowly ran his fingertips down Bruce's torso, stopping at his v-line.

Bruce inhaled shakily as he did. His face quickly became redder, though Joker couldn't see. He exasperatedly let Joker feel and touch him as he lay there.

Joker traced his way back up to Bruce's chest with his pointer finger. "You're surprisingly tolerant."

"Shut it, clown," Bruce barked at Joker.

Joker smiled wider, hugging Bruce. He wrapped his legs around Bruce's thigh tightly.

Bruce looked at Joker, surprised. "I'm honestly shocked you aren't hard right now.. Knowing you.." he remarked.

"Were you expecting me to be? Naughty bat.." Joker teased.

Bruce sighed, staring up at the ceiling. "You just seem like the type," he said as he closed his eyes.
He turned over towards the Joker, hugging him back.

Bruce had fallen asleep at some point, though he couldn't remember when. He woke up in an empty bed with no trace of the Joker left behind. 
He got out of bed when he noticed a small piece of torn notebook paper on his nightstand. He picked it up, reading the scrawled words.

'I'll see you tonight, Batsy' had been written in poor, but readable handwriting.

Bruce smiled softly. Surprisingly, that had been the best night's sleep he had gotten in a while.