Rating: PG-13, for language and suggestive themes
Summary: Hero and villain share a drink. Written for promt #51 on the fanfic100 table: water.
"Get off of me," the Joker hissed, grabbing at Batman's throat and shoving him off. The caped crusader stumbled back, clutching at his throat and coughing up blood. This had been going on for nearly an hour now, and he wasn't sure how much more he could take. Batman heard a click—presumably that of some gadget or weapon the Joker was preparing to use—but he held his hand up.
"Wait," he commanded breathlessly, kneeling down to catch his breath. Was this what it felt like to have a heart attack? A stroke? He didn't know what was going on, but it didn't feel good, that was for certain. The Joker let out a very dramatic gasp, circling Batman, knife in hand.
"What's wrong, Bats?" he said in a voice of mock-concern, kicking Batman's calf for good measure as he walked by. The nickname rolled off of his tongue with a tone that could only be described as taunting, and it made Batman squirm—just what he wanted. He giggled before finally stopping in front of Batman and crouching down next to him, lifting a hand to place his index and middle fingers on Batman's chin. Batman flinched at the touch, his instinct being to beat the living fuck out of the Joker, but the pain in his chest preventing him from doing so. "Are you okay?" the Joker asked, tone a mixture of mocking and concerned.
Batman opened his mouth to speak, but instead started coughing. He doubled over, clutching desperately at his stomach, coughing and sputtering all over the hard concrete beneath him. The Joker stood up, head tilted, trying to work out a plan in his head. This was fantastic—Batman was sick. He was unable to fight, which meant that this could be the great escape. The Joker could just run away and take advantage, he could kill people, torture people, he could do whatever he wanted to.
Instead, he went into the abandoned building that they had just been wrestling in front of, and when he returned a few minutes later, he was carrying a large bottle of water, which he extended. "Here," he said awkwardly, offering it to Batman, who looked up in confusion.
"What's this?" Batman asked cautiously, taking the bottle and looking at it carefully. The Joker rolled his eyes as though this was the most ridiculous question in the world, shaking his head.
"It's water, Bats. And before you ask, no, it is not poisoned. You'll be fine to drink it, I promise. Why would I want to kill you? That'd take all of the, uh, the fun out." As he spoke the last few words, he kneeled down next to Batman and put emphasis on the phrase. His face was mere inches away from Batman, and his eyes flickered to the lips that weren't covered by black material, but he took a seat on the ground across from the "masked vigilante", motioning towards the bottle. "Well?" He prompted, looking expectantly at Batman. "Take a drink, come on, I don't have all night!" He watched as Batman lifted the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and put the plastic to his lips. He watched the water swirl around beneath the label, watched Batman's throat work to swallow, watched his eyes close in satisfaction. He watched as Batman leaned back on his left hand while his right hand tilted the bottle up, watched the secure, comfortable stance that he was in. He inadvertently licked his lips, and when Batman was finished, he handed the bottle back without replacing the cap.
Not one to question a good thing, the Joker took the bottle and put it to his own lips, letting the cool water rush down his throat. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, Batman was watching him intently, licking his own lips. The Joker smirked, tossing the empty bottle over his shoulder. "Think you can handle another round?" he teased, smirking as he spoke.
Batman stood up and walked over to the Joker, extending a hand to help him up. The Joker took Batman's gloved fingers in his own, pulled himself up, and looked Batman straight in the face. It looked like Batman was going to say something, but he didn't—instead, he lifted his leg and delivered a knee straight to the Joker's groin, sending the Joker to the ground in a fit of giggles and grunts.
"Ready," he growled as he turned to get ready for the next attack, a small smile on his lips.