"I am slim and tall, many find me desirable and appealing, they touch me and I give a false good feeling, once I shine in splendor, but only once and then no more, for many I am "to die for"."
Bruce Wayne always made sure that there was a very fine distinction between his life in the public eye and the life he spent as the Dark Knight. Perhaps that was why he was always as careful as he was about everything. Everything in his life was carefully choreographed, a ballet of lies and deceit. Everything was planned carefully so that no one could possibly suspect Bruce Wayne of being the Batman. So how, he wondered, had Edward Nigma, of all people, found him out? A man of merely twenty-four years had somehow, some way, found the answer to the question that no one else could even begin to explain away.
He had first become aware of the presence of the younger man when he had returned from his latest patrol, which had, surprisingly, gone off without a hitch. He had stripped out of his batsuit, tossing it down the chute that was for this specific reason, before turning on the tap for his shower, stepping in with a low groan as he let the scalding water pelt his skin, washing away the night. After about half an hour of lounging around in the shower, leisurely washing himself before turning off the faucet and stepping out, grabbing a towel to wipe the droplets of water from his body. He opened a drawer beneath the towel cabinet and pulled out a pair of boxers, indulging in his little idiosyncratic habit of being unable to even walk around his own home without underwear, before he opened the door to let the steam of the bathroom filter out. A bottle of Listerine was grabbed and a cap-full was quickly knocked back.
"I cannot be seen, cannot be felt," A voice recited from nearby and Bruce nearly choked on the alcoholic wash in his mouth. "I cannot be heard, cannot be smelt." The man turned, walking into his bedroom, which was covered in darkness, nothing being illuminated by the dim light that the bathroom threw onto the floor. "I lie behind stars and underneath hills, and empty holes I fill." Bruce reached over and flicked on the light to his bedroom, freezing at the sight before him, eyes wide with amazement and shock. "I come first and follow after, end life, kill laughter." Green eyes turned to Bruce's and the Riddler smirked as he propped one leg up on the bed surface. "What am I, Master Wayne?" The brunette ran his hand through his long hair, slender digits tangling in the strands for a moment before the hand flopped back onto the pillow nearby.
"How the hell did you get in here?" Bruce whispered, staring at the villain in his bed. A more accurate question that sprung to his lips almost immediately after was, why the hell are you in my bed.
"I came down the chimney." A long leg swung over the edge of the bed and soon Edward Nigma was standing his full height, smirking as he placed a long-fingered hand on a skinny hip. It was at this point that Bruce realized that he wasn't in his usual Riddler costume, the green and black spandex noticeably absent. Instead Nigma was clad in a pair of tight black jeans and a long-sleeve green shirt, the neckline of the shirt revealing a thin collarbone and shoulders as the young genius folded his arms over his chest. "Well, Brucey, do you have an answer to my riddle?"
"What am I, Master Wayne?" The young man smiled and Bruce felt so incredibly vulnerable that it scared him.
"Can't be seen, felt, heard, smelt, behind stars, under hills, in holes, comes first, follows after, ends life, kills laughter…" Bruce's eyes flickered for a moment as he murmured the abbreviated riddle before he spoke again. "It's darkness."
"Good boy." Edward smirked as he stood in front of Bruce, hands on skinny hips, tilting his head to look at the other man's blue eyes. "So, what does the billionaire playboy do with his free time? He goes out late at night dressed as an overgrown rodent and puts big bad villains in prison." The brunette flicked some hair out of his face, letting his black-painted nails over the bare shoulders of the billionaire playboy. "And yet as to all the most outrageous riddles, the answer to yours was so absolutely simple. I mean, who could afford to be the Batman but our own beloved Bruce Wayne?"
"Why are you here? Why aren't you sharing this with the rest of the rogues?" Bruce instantly shot off, eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Maybe I enjoy knowing something no one else does." The Riddler whispered against the older man's jaw. "Maybe I enjoy having this sort of power over the Dark Knight." The young villain smirked before pulling back, his fingers running over the larger man's chest. "And you can't just kill me, oh no, that would be a violation of your precious code of honor and how to explain the death of a villain in your manor."
"What do you want from me?" Bruce growled out, staring at the man in front of him, trying to deny the fact that after so long of the only touches he had received being brutal hits to various parts of his body that the gentle touches were pleasant.
"Well here's a riddle that will give you an answer as to what you can use to give me what I want."
"No games, Nigma."
"But I live for games." Edward chuckled. "What is wider than life itself, longer than forever, so simple its complicated, travels but never leaves the spot, puts others in danger but no one gets hurt, and reaches the worlds unknown?"
Bruce's eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed, his lips moving as he repeated the riddle silently before he spoke up. "The imagination…" He responded after a few moments, Edward smirked as he reached up to trace a filed nail over those thin, frowning lips, his other arm wrapping around Bruce's neck as the villain moved to press their chests together.
"Exactly." He murmured against the older man's ear. "Be creative with me. Show me you're not as dull and completely cookie cutter as I previously thought."
Bruce felt his skin crawling in a pleasant way as he wrapped his arms around Nigma's waist, growling softly in the thinner man's ear as he felt over the soft, thick fabric of the sweater. For a moment it was so easy to forget that this was the Riddler, who had been causing him unending frustration not a week ago with a ridiculous caper involving a library that he had stolen all the books from. This was simply Edward Nigma, a man that was offering Bruce Wayne something that he hadn't experienced in a long time. Too long, if he was considering giving in to the other man.
Edward was obviously becoming impatient because after a few minutes of receiving no response, the brunette leaned forward and whispered in a low, seductive register against Bruce's jaw, "In marble walls as white as milk, lined with skin as soft as silk," Smooth hands dragged over the broad chest and waist of the hero and skin spasmed as muscle trembled from the intimate touch. "In a fountain crystal clear, a golden treasure does appear, there are no doors to this stronghold," Thin hips slid along Bruce's and the thin barrier of the man's boxers did little to hide just how much the other man was affecting him. "Yet thieves break in and steal the gold." A smirk and a long, warm tongue dragging over the older man's cheek and jaw. "What am I?"
Bruce grabbed Nigma's hips, lifting him and tossing him onto the bed, instantly pinning Edward's thin body to the soft mattress. He didn't care about the riddle's answer and as he laced his fingers in long brown hair he found that he couldn't bother with much more than savoring the thinner man's body. Large hands slid beneath the green sweater and Bruce had never felt a body so frail and malnourished. It was a wonder that he hadn't broken Edward before in their numerous encounters. Blue eyes opened and saw lazy green, the young man beneath him smirking and watching him as those long legs propped up so that his knees were pressed to Bruce's sides.
His face was sharp, thin, and his nose was crooked, but his almond green eyes and the sheer delicacy of his face made Bruce feel heat creeping up from his collarbone and stomach. The sweater was removed, revealing the prominent bone and pale skin that never saw the light of day, and Bruce could overlook the fact that Nigma was a man because the skin was soft and smooth and tasted like something warm and sweet. Edward smiled and ran his hands over the older man's chest and shoulders, squeezing and massaging tenderly before he let his hands slide down to the waistband of soft boxers, Bruce groaning at the light touch. It was a heady sensation, having the Batman at his mercy, putty in his hands.
The Riddler didn't like to kill when he had nothing against the person and he had learned to treat Batman as a game rather than an enemy, which was why he was now pleasantly satisfied with the man above him rutting against his hand and thigh needily. The light teasing stopped after a few minutes when Bruce grabbed hold of Edward's wrists and pinned them to the bed, tearing at the tight jeans and fairly peeling the thin man's underwear off as he thrust his hips between thin legs. Nigma gasped in pleasant surprise as he felt Bruce pulling his boxers off in order to press their hips flush together, the larger man's blue eyes darkening and the pupils dilating as he reached over to the nightstand and rummaged around for something.
Of course the billionaire playboy would have lube in a generous supply, but Edward couldn't help but give a small laugh as he curled his hands in the blankets and sheets, biting his lower lip and lifting his hips to allow Bruce the access he needed. A low, long moan as the Batman's long fingers penetrated him, hitting nerves and brushing over that one hidden spot that had Edward writhing and gasping softly. "Ah… Nnn…" The urge to talk was overpowering and soon words were tumbling from the thin lips that were unpainted and curving gently. "No legs have I to dance," Long legs curled around Bruce's thighs and the Dark Knight groaned as he removed his fingers. "No lungs have I to breathe," Bruce's eyes stared widely at the image before him of long hair splayed over the feather pillows and panting lips parted so sweetly. "No life have I to live or die, and yet I do all three."
A harsh thrust and Bruce was in and Nigma was lost. Every emotion was combined into a heady stew of sensations and feelings and he was screaming bloody murder at the stimulation, his cock twitching as that one place was hit and rubbed and stimulated until he felt like he was going to die when orgasm hit. Bruce was moving too fast, too desperately and Edward was coming so quickly that everything was spinning and he was gasping for breath as the hot seed of the man looming over him filled him.
Bruce awoke later thoroughly satisfied and in an empty bed with pillows and sheets that smelled strongly of Edward Nigma. There was a note on the bedside table and the billionaire playboy unfolded it, reading over the scrawling writing with interest.
Look at me, I can bring a smile to your face, a tear to your eye, or even a thought to your mind, but I can't be seen.
Bruce chuckled and shook his head, flopping back onto the surface of his mattress and thinking over how he might have to arrange for the Batman to make a visit to the Riddler soon.
A/N: For those of you who would just die if you didn't know the answers to the unanswered riddles, here they are.
First Riddle: A cigarette
Fourth Riddle: An egg
Fifth Riddle: Fire
Final Riddle: Your Memories