#Jerome is an inside joke that I'm not explaining

[ominous-auburn-orbs]

What if Caine gives Kinger a really cool bug and then Kinger gives him a little kiss

Of course! Tis a classic scenario with this ship.

Caine was listening to Kinger ramble about insects again. He was always amazed by the other's extensive and impressive knowledge. Although, he always felt a pang of sympathy every time he remembered that there were no insects in the circus. Nothing in the code detailed any creatures at all, save for NPCs and the players.

"-and that's how they all evolved to look like their environment!" Caine was drawn back into the conversation- mostly one-way, but he didn't mind- by Kinger finishing his infodump. He felt a bit guilty about losing focus, despite how much he loved the sound of Kinger's voice, especially when he was this happy.

"That's incredibly fascinating, Kinger! I'm impressed with how you're able to retain so much information about these insect collections." Of course, retaining and retelling information was the easiest thing for an AI like Caine. Everything was in his memory and remained there, never changing. Yet he knew how difficult it was for humans to do the same.

"Why, thank you, Caine. I don't remember a lot about anything anymore, to be honest. It would probably be a bit easier to get my details in order if there were any actual insect collections here, heh." Kinger tried to keep the disappointed tone out of his voice. He didn't want to make Caine feel guilty about it or anything, it's not like it was his fault. The circus just didn't have any use for insects. So there were none.

The ringmaster didn't want Kinger to be left wanting. He had to do something about it. The chess piece almost never outwardly complained about anything, which was a large contrast from the rest of the troop, but Caine knew he was unsatisfied. He might not be able to give him, or anyone for that matter, the one thing they truly wanted, but he could always try the next best thing.

"Wait here for a moment, my dear! I believe I can procure something that'll fix all of your worries." Caine clicked his fingers and teleported away to a vast area that stored the game's code. It was akin to the void, save he actually knew what was here. As he started looking for the right strings of binary and words, it hit him that his task may take a bit longer than anticipated.

He clicked his fingers again and appeared in front of Kinger once more. "Perhaps you should just go about your day instead, my dear. I'll fetch you when I'm done."

Kinger was rather confused about what Caine was talking about, but his warm smile assured him that it was nothing bad. "Alright, Caine. I'll just be in my room, if you want to get me." He affectionately petted the ringmaster's head before leaving. It left a pleasantly warm feeling in Caine's chest, serving as a reminder as to why he would go through this struggle for him. It's not like he wouldn't do something like this for any of his performers, but Kinger was always a special case.

Going back to the coding room, Caine set to work. He went primarily off of what Kinger had told him, although he did have to do some research for the finer details. Once he had finished the model, he began to code its mannerisms. He was rather thankful that he had realised earlier on how long it would take. Kinger probably would've stayed standing there for hours on end. The thought did bring a smile to his face, since he would definitely do the same.

Finally, the bug was finished. It was a brightly coloured caterpillar and was wrapped around Caine's hand. Its smiling face and clown-like shoes were probably inaccurate to what Kinger was used to, but it did fit the circus' environment better. He had even made a small enclosure for the bug, with everything it would need to survive and thrive. The hardest part was definitely giving it the correct life cycle. It would never die, obviously, but it would one day have to become a butterfly. Caine could already picture Kinger's excitement when it would emerge from its chrysalis. But he was getting far too ahead of himself. The first step was to deliver it.

Gently lowering the caterpillar into its enclosure, he tucked it under his arm and clicked his fingers, going back to the circus tent. He shifted the enclosure to be held behind his back and floated down the nearby corridor to Kinger's room.

When he reached the chess piece's door, Caine knocked a rhythmic tempo before returning his hand to its spot behind him. After about a minute of waiting, the door opened a crack. A large blue eye stared out at him. Caine was mesmorised by it for a moment before remembering what he was supposed to be doing.

"Kinger, my dear, I've brought you something! May I come in?" The door opened fully and Kinger gestured for him to enter.

"Oh, you really didn't have to. You know I don't need anything from you, except you yourself." His eyes did their best to show his loving smile, which Caine returned.

"But I wanted to make this for you." Holding the enclosure out in front of him, Caine heard Kinger let out a quiet gasp. "I know how much you love your insects, so I thought I'd make one for you. It's admittedly not a collection, but it can become one! If you want it to, that is."

Kinger crouched down to be eye level with the rectangular box. The colourful caterpillar crawled out from a pile of twigs and leaves, smiling at him. "Oh my God... thank you, Caine. It- it's beautiful."

The chess piece wiped at his eyes to remove the brewing tears. Caine had coded in an entire insect, which the circus wasn't even meant to have in the first place. No wonder he had been gone so long. Kinger was amazed at how much effort the ringmaster would put in just to make him happy.

"You're more than welcome, my love. It was my pleasure." He handed the enclosure to Kinger, who took it inside his fortress and sat it down on a table within, before re-emerging back in front of Caine.

Caine floated up to Kinger's level. The chess piece cupped Caine's face with his hand, staring into his eyes, unsure of how to word how grateful he was. Instead, he chose to pull the ringmaster closer, pressing their faces together for a short while before pulling away. He could hear prolonged glitching noises omitting from Caine while his face overheated, making him giggle.

"Come on, let's see what the caterpillar's doing." Caine let out a noise of agreement that was somewhere between a laugh and a panting exhale. The two went inside the fortress and sat on the floor in front of the table that held up the enclosure, watching the caterpillar wander its surroundings. Who knows how long they sat there, but neither cared. They were happy in each other's presence, and that was all they needed.

"So, do you want to name it something?" Caine's question surprised Kinger, making him yelp. Regaining his composure, the chess piece hummed in thought, inspecting the bug before him.

"Hmm... Jerome." He nodded after he said it, confirming that it sounded right to him.

"Jerome?" A hint of laughter found its way into Caine's voice. That hadn't been quite what he was expecting.

"What? Is it not a good name?"

"Oh no, it's a lovely name!" The ringmaster rested his head on Kinger's shoulder. "Its name shall be Jerome."

Kinger put his hand on Caine's shoulder and rubbed gently. Despite his lack of a mouth, his cheeks still felt phantom pain from his smiling.

[mightkinsquidwardidk]

Random quotes I found on Pinterest as Gotham characters???

These quotes aren't mine :)

Penguin: "I consider it a true tragedy and failure that we, as a human race, have let lavish masquerade balls go out of fashion."

Jerome: *is sad* some random shiny thing with no function or monetary value half buried in the dirt at the bus stop. "Oh ho HOOOO."

Harley: "Why aren't there friend pick up lines. Pick up lines to make friends, like, hey that's a cute dress, you know where it would look better? On nobody else, because you're a beautiful individual."

Post-spray Jeremiah: "Be my friend or I'll set your entire family on fire."

Jim: "Life hack: if someone makes a racist/sexist joke, say, with total seriousness, I don't get it, can you explain it. Then watch them crash and burn."

Galavan: "So what do you guys have planned for valentine's day?"

Barbara and Tabitha: "Murder."

Galavan: "That's the spirit."

Some random teacher talking about Jonathan: "One time, we got a new kid in fifth grade and he walks right in, sticks his hand under the stapler and staples his hand. He just looks at the teacher and goes I'm going to the nurse and leaves."

Edward: "Struggle with depression would almost seem to imply that I am bad at depression when I am, in fact, very proficient at being depressed."

Ivy: "You'll understand when you're older. I am older and I understand absolutely nothing."

Post-spray Jeremiah: My neutral expression makes me look like I'm in a bad mood, which is convenient because it's usually true."

Jerome: "At my funeral, there is going to be a closed casket and then it will be opened to reveal that I am not inside. Instead, they will turn on the ceiling fan and my lifeless body will swing around the room while the Space Jam theme song is playing in the background." *Hours later* "Nevermind, my mom says I can't do that."

Edward: "Would like to apologize to my haters for being an absolute snack."

Post-spray Jeremiah: "My brother tried to pick up a banana to make it look like he was talking on the phone but all the bananas in the bunch came with it and he just looked at me and went I guess it's a conference call."

Harley: "A++ recovery."

Jeremiah: "Don't encourage him."

Barbara high as a kite: "I'm going to make a Youtube video entitled shit all men say and it will consist only of the phrase but not all men say that. And then I'll wait for men to stare at their keyboards in utter distress as they contemplate the paradox of their intense desire and desperation to inform me that not all men say that. I will break them."

Ivy: "Sorry, I have Bubonic plague. I can't hang out tonight."

Harley: "Aw rats."

Jerome: "This is my How the Grinch Stole Christmas oc, the Gunch. He's the Grinch's brother but he has a gun. His theme song is called "holy fuck it's the Gunch."

Pre-spray Jeremiah: "Everyday is leg day when you're running from your problems."

Some college student: "Confidently submits worst essay Professor Crane has ever graded."

Jonathan: "Students, you have no idea how high that bar is. I had a student who plagiarized from a yaoi hentai site. There's no going back from that one."

Same student: "Fuck dude, there's sure not."

Harley: "How can lawyers argue without crying?"

Harvey Dent: "I am a lawyer and let me tell you it gets super close dude."

(I edited this quote a bit.)

Random circus member: "today these two twins in the circus were hitting each other with pencils and Lila glared at them and said could you try to be a little more mature? One of them screamed taxes and punched the other kid in the face."

Harley: "I hate it when people ask me to explain my thought process. Like hell if I know!"

Selina: "What do you do for a living?"

Bruce: "I exist against my will."

Post-spray Jeremiah: "Earth's boring, it's time to mix things up a little,"

Bruce: "After the year we just had?!"

Jeremiah: "Politics bore me but Yellowstone's super-volcano intrigues me."

Jonathan: "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Harley: "Nothing I want to be apart of."

Literally any version of Jeremiah: "Y'all ever postpone an outfit? Sometimes the public just isn't ready.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

The Best Things ~ J.V. (part 4)

A.n: Lol so things are about to get very Adult Themed up in here. Children do not read thank you. My consious demands it.

Warnings: Light smut, dark themes, mention of rape

Word Count: 4200+

MASTERLIST

Playlist

They shouldn't have been caught as soon as they were... and yet.

The second Jerome and Y/n had gotten outside the fun house, they'd been overrun by cops. The two had made it pretty far, but then someone had tackled Y/n from behind. The boy had been surprised when, from his spot on the ground, he heard Jerome's voice of all people scream his name. The redhead had paused, allowing another cop to take him down as well. Now they were being transported. Jerome, to Arkham, and Y/n just to regular jail. They hadn't determined him criminally insane yet, though it seemed to be going that direction as Y/n and Jerome spent the entire ride flirting with each other and cracking up at each other's jokes. They'd only quieted when each of the cops in the back with them held two guns to Y/n and Jerome respectively, threatening them. Jerome hadn't been that quiet or still for a while.

Y/n was the first to be escorted out of the back of the truck, arms handcuffed behind him. He was taken into GCPD offices, a smile on his face. One that promptly was wiped clean off when he was pushed inside and Jim Gordon stood waiting for him, Bruce and Alfred on either side of him.

Bruce moved first. He jogged to Y/n, a mixed expression on his face. The last time he'd seen Bruce, they'd been much different people. Y/n had left him behind to train with Penguin- no doubt Gordon had told him about the event, and surely he'd seen Y/n right at Oswald's side ever since. Until tonight, where Y/n had been found with Jerome- considered the worst of all the Gotham psychos.

Despite everything, Bruce seemed to be worried and relieved for the most part. The two boys stopped as they stood in front of each other. Bruce frowned, reaching up to touch his fingers to a wound on Y/n's forehead. It must have been from the tackle. Y/n hadn't noticed until now. "You're hurt." It wasn't a question so Y/n didn't respond back. Jim approached, motioning the officer that had Y/n to follow him. Y/n was pulled away and Bruce was left behind. Y/n ended up in an interrogation room, handcuffed and facing Bullock and Gordon. Y/n knew that Bruce was on the other side of the one sided glass, though, which meant that Alfred was too.

"Y/n," Gordon began. He seemed to pause, as if unsure how to continue.

So Y/n took his cue. "Why am I here? You have Jerome, so you can't be looking for information about him. If you want to determine my psyche and where I should end up, I mean I know I'm amazing but Jim Gordon and Commissioner Bullock? Here for little ol' me? I'm flattered, honestly." Both men looked at each other. It seems they didn't realize just how far lost Y/n was.

This tactic was new to Y/n, too. Oswald had taught him to be silent and unbreakable. Pleasant but unshakable. Like his dad used to be. Nice to talk to, leaving no option to backstab. It had been very different from how Y/n acted when he was just himself.

The cockiness and ease that Y/n exhibited now was a little mix of all the personas he'd most taken to or been taught over the years. There was the complete inhuman unaffectedness that had been taught to him by Angela, mixed with the ease that Oswald had taught him, the charisma he'd absorbed from Jerome in the short time they'd spent together, and his own energy he'd always been able to call on and struggled to hide. He felt like a new person again. A person he loved being.

"We're here because Bruce trusts us," Bullock said as the silence began to stretch. "You're in a safe place now, Y/n. You can talk to us. Tell us anything. Jerome is far away and can't hurt you. You can tell us what happened."

Oh. Y/n snorted. "You guys think Jerome kidnapped me and held me against my will or something?" Bullock cleared his throat. Y/n had always been told that he looked a lot like Bruce. He had differences, obviously, but as children people would try to get his attention thinking he was Bruce. Sometimes his mom would call him by his younger brother's name. Y/n realized it must be a little startling to see the actions he was displaying on a face so similar to his brother's, when Bruce was ever the staple good boy. Bruce would become a cop, if he didn't go into dad's business after all. Y/n would become... something else. It was becoming clearer as he grew older.

"What happened to you?" Jim asked. He was shaken, obviously upset and not quite able to grip the drastic difference in the Y/n he knew versus the boy in front of him.

Y/n rolled his head back, sighing. "A lot." He began bouncing a knee. "Do you want the whole life story?"

Jim crossed his arms. "I've got time."

Y/n chuckled softly. "I mean I have nothing to hide." He pushed his head forward, letting his eyes roam around the otherwise empty, bland room. He counted the cracks in the walls and memorized the paths they took as he spoke, keeping himself calm. This was a tactic he'd learned from therapy. "I mean I had a happy childhood. Parents have their favorites. Gotham had their favorite. Bruce was Mr. Perfect. But people liked me and I had parents who were supportive and loving or whatever, so there's that." He sighed again, closing his eyes. "Then they died. I got to take control of a company I wanted nothing to do with. And you know why?" Y/n opened his eyes, looking Jim directly in the eyes. "Because I was easy to manipulate. I was young and nieve and soft. Easy to bend and break and shape. It was easy to do whatever she wanted when it came from my mouth, because I was a Wayne."

"She?" Jim asked.

Y/n‘s jaw worked. "Angela. Angela Dyer." He swallowed, tasting bitterness in his mouth. "She was new to the business. Had worked there barely four years, which made her a newbie compared to the others who'd been working 20, 50, however some odd years. She was twenty years old. Not even old enough to drink. And she was pretty. Men aren't nice when they want something from a young, pretty girl. Especially in Gotham."

Jim shifted, obviously uncomfortable. "What does she have to do with you?"

"We were fast friends when I started being there. Close in age. Both new. The higher ups just wanted a Wayne present, but with her help I actually made a place for myself. Well-" he snorted. "A place for her. She moved up fast with my help. And all those men who used to walk all over her..." He shrugged. "I didn't ask questions about it."

Bullock's eyes widened."She killed them?"

"I think she just scared the shit out of them. Lots of threats, with me to back her up and hit the yes button when she needed. Manipulation. I think women are better at it than men, on average, but she was the best." His jaw locked and he took a few seconds to loosen it. "Pretty soon we were really close. Really close." He was looking at Bullock now. Training his gaze on the older man's. Drilling a message he didn't want to say. Bullock had gone inhumanly still. "She told me it was our little secret. That she just wanted to reward me after all our hard work."

"You were fourteen," He snapped, his hands curled into fists.

Y/n smiled. He actually smiled. "I didn't know what else to do. Boys don't have those problems. Or so I thought. She climbed the latter and taught me to keep my emotions bottled up. But I wasn't good at it. One day I yelled at her when she tried to... reward me that day." He swallowed. "I freaked out and asked her not to. She kissed me. Told me that she loved me and I loved her and it was okay because obviously I was enjoying it. Told me I couldn't be gay because-"

The room was heavy. "You're..."

"Yeah," Y/n croaked. "Only my parents knew. I haven't even told Alfred or Bruce, but I told her because I didn't want her to do it the first time. Or any other time. Tried to explain that I was gay and I didn't like it. She told me I couldn't be because my body was reacting to it, so obviously I was enjoying it." Y/n swallowed again. His mouth was getting dryer by the second. "One day I told her if she didn't stop I was going to tell someone. She told me that she loved me, like she always did. Except this time, she insisted that she needed me. That she couldn't handle just being friends with me. Told me she would kill herself if I broke up with her. As if we were dating-" His voice broke off, his eyes drilling holes into the wall.

Jim stepped forward. "She didn't-"

"She did." Y/n shook his head. "I thought it was my fault too for a long time, until finally Oswald convinced me otherwise." He shook his head. "I needed to get out of my childhood house. Away from Alfred and Bruce, who I couldn't even begin to explain to. Away from insanity and memories and near death experiences. So I went with Penguin, that night. He made me feel more powerful. More in control of my life. Helped me grow up and discover myself a little." Y/n grew quiet. "Did you know that the body has automatic responses to sexual actions that have nothing to do with pleasure? Me getting off had absolutely nothing to do with whether or not I wanted her to-" He cut off. "Edward Nygma told me that one." His voice was weak and broken. He shrugged. "So there's your sob story, Gordon. That's what happened to me. Now if you'll either send me to jail or let me return to Oswald, that would be appreciated. You see that mayor of yours is kind of my best friend and he's going through a hard time- why are you looking at me like that?"

Gordon and Bullock seemed to be sick to their stomachs. "Y/n..."

"What?" Y/n demanded.

"Oswald has been missing since yesterday. No one's seen him since the interview he ran out on." Y/n went pale. "We'll get on it, I promise, but he's missing." Jim went to step forward to bring some comfort to the handcuffed boy who had obviously been through a lot for it to have all happened in just one day, but Y/n jerked away.

"What are you going to do with me?" Y/n barked. "Jail or release? I need to get out there and do your guys' job for you, and if I have to break out it might take some time."

Jim's eyes widened. "Y/n-"

"Jail or release, Gordon? Tell me. NOW!"

It was quiet for a second. "We're sending you to Arkham." Y/n's jaw went slack. "You've spent all night with Jerome, and you're a close associate with Penguin, who's a known murderer."

"You don't have any proof that I-"

Bullock was suddenly very close to Y/n's face. "Look me in the face and tell me you have never killed a man. That killing wasn't part of your little escape from jail plan? That if we release you you won't turn around and go after whatever the cause of Penguin's disappearance and kill them too? Tell me that you don't agree with the way Jerome thinks and does things. I'll let you go."

Y/n felt rage. Rage like nothing else. Like he hadn't felt in a long time. Oswald has taught him how to control and hone that red feeling that had once seized him. Usually he could cultivate it into a weapon. Now... now it was freely causing havoc inside him again and he wanted to scream. "You wanna play friend but then keep me from helping the people I care about." Y/n spit in his face, causing the older man to jerk away, wiping it off. "Fuck you, Bullock."

Bullock looked at Gordon. "He didn't say it."

Jim nodded his head. "I can't believe you tried to escape and attack Commissioner Gordon right in front of me, Y/n."

"What-?" And then Jim punched him in the face and everything went black.

When Y/n woke up, he was in a different room. Similar but obviously not the same. He sat up and looked down to see that he was in a prison jumpsuit, but it was black and white striped instead of orange. Fittingly, the room he was in was grey cement and bare, with a bed that he now lay on, another across from him, a small window slightly above him, and steel, black bars instead of a door. Was this Arkham? It wasn't as bad as Y/n had thought- at least as far as living conditions went. There didn't seem to be rats or bugs or leaking. He could get used to this.

The door opened. "Ah and how lucky for you to be awake just in time for lunch." It was an officer that Y/n didn't recognize. The man was much older and seemed to be annoyed even as he smiled. "You've been out for a whole day. Didn't think you were gonna make it." Y/n got the sense the guard was disappointed he had.

Standing silently, Y/n followed as the guard motioned him. He was unsure of how this place worked, so he moved tentatively. Calm but ready. Standing to his full height, eyes moving carefully as he stayed aware of his surroundings. His face was a sort of collected calm and he moved slowly at first, only speeding it up when the guard shoved something in his back. Probably a baton.

The two men ended up in a large room at the end of the hallway which was filled with tables that had benches attached to them. "This is the Big Room," the guard told Y/n lazily. "You eat here mostly, but you can go here for free time too, unless you want to stay in your cell." There was a door that lead into the Big Room. It opened loudly, causing every eye to be drawn to the two new people entering. "Good luck," the officer purred. "You seem like a calm one. They eat calm ones up in here." Then the officer stepped back and the door closed and Y/n was alone.

He looked around the room for an open seat, suddenly feeling like he was in high school again. He didn't have a clique. He didn't have somewhere to sit. He didn't know how this system of people worked. What if he sat with the wrong person and literally got murdered? Was there a chance the guards cared about the inmates enough to save their life? Y/n doubted it, if the guard from earlier was any indication.

Thoughts were cut off as an excited, "Y/N!" sounded. The called boy looked over to see red hair and a ginormous grin. Instantly Y/n switched gears, a smile of his own rising to his face. Jerome threw his arm over Y/n's shoulders. The Wayne boy tried not to get too giddy about the gesture as the redhead moved back to the table he must have been sitting at before Y/n came in. "You know I didn't think you'd end up in here too. Does that make you crazy after all?" He snorted, obviously amused by the idea of either of them being unsound of mind. Or maybe that was just another Jerome thing. Perhaps he just found insanity and instability funny.

"In the eyes of the people," Y/n answered.

Jerome tittered excitedly. "We're gonna have so much fun! They're so quiet and dull, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come."

"You're a clever man, J." Y/n's voice was solid, even as his eyes were trained to Jerome and his smile was so wide it already hurt. "I'm sure you would have thought of something."

Someone scoffed. "Are you flirting with him?"

The man was big- both wide and tall- and bald. He looked scary, and also like an idiot. He had that simple minded vibe. Like he could hit, and that's all he could do. Not that it invalidated just how good he could hit though...

"What if I am?" Y/n met the man's eyes directly. He felt a surge of confidence with Jerome next to him.

Jerome hooked Y/n's chin as the men stared each other down. "Eyes on me now, doll." He winked and Y/n relaxed, smiling. "What are we gonna do first?"

Y/n rose an eyebrow, smirking in amusement. "What is there to do in a prison for the criminally insane?"

Jerome laughed. It suddenly cut off and the redhead was invading Y/n's space significantly. "Your imagination is the limit, really."

Y/n suddenly had a very active imagination. He cleared his throat but didn't move his gaze from Jerome, even though he wanted to. He could feel his face on fire and he wanted to shift away. Give himself space to breathe. It was very hot and it was becoming burdensome and annoying. Y/n had never once been this attracted to a single person. He'd had crushes- which is how he knew he was gay- but nothing serious. Nothing commanding and controlling. Why now, when he was most sure he never wanted to feel this way? Why here, when he was locked up and his best friend was missing after being betrayed by his love? Why now when Y/n should have been most against romance and most focused on finding Oswald and making sure his friend was okay, was he so smitten by this psychotic redhead?

Fuck it. Y/n wasn't getting out anytime soon- what was even the point of anything other than just giving in?

"I could think of a few things." Someone groaned, but Jerome's grin was enough to chase Y/n's shame away completely.

"Maybe I could pull off something special for you," Jerome mused. "Just once."

Looking away finally, Y/n sat down. "I heard it was lunchtime. Maybe we could start there." Jerome plopped down, eagerness unperturbed. If Y/n was being honest, his own enthusiasm was also unfazed. He didn't know what Jerome was thinking, but he was down for whatever. As long as it involved any single one of the things he was currently thinking about.

Y/n didn't expect Jerome to get it planned and done so soon.

It was dark and Y/n lay in his bed, looking at the ceiling. The guard had told him he'd be getting a roommate eventually when they were sure of how stable he was and how capable he would be and with who and blah blah blah blah blah-

For all their talk about safety, Y/n was only minority surprised to see the door open only to reveal Jerome Valeska strolling inside, the door closing behind him. "Miss me?"

Y/n grinned, chuckling softly as he rolled his eyes. "You're my cellmate?"

"The one and only." Jerome moved closer then seemed to hesitate and moved away instead. He went to the other bed, plopping down and crossing his legs before laying back, his hands behind his head and his smirk wide and charming. "You're quite interesting, Y/n. Are you aware?"

Y/n shrugged. "Not really."

Jerome narrowed his eyes, not smirking anymore. He obviously didn't like to be contradicted. "Why not?"

"People usually prefer my brother," Y/n explained casually, settling back down in his bed as Jerome had. When Jerome didn't speak up again, Y/n continued. "I guess he's more responsible and put together. He's gonna make it in the world, and it's nice to see such motivation in such a young lad." The last sentence he said each word with dripping sarcasm. "He's a genius and he's driven and I'm... Y/n Wayne. My parents were cool, don't get me wrong, but everyone's made it perfectly clear that Bruce has always been and always will be the preferred brother." Y/n looked over to Jerome smiling, only for it to drop upon seeing Jerome's expression. "What?"

Jerome stood. He moved with that same fluidity, except now it was very intimidating. Less like a showman and more like a predator stalking its prey, getting far too close for comfort. "I know what you mean. Younger brothers are the worst." His tone was dark now, and low. He lips turned up but it seemed in a sneer rather than enjoyment.

"You have a younger brother?" Y/n asked, sitting up in surprise.

Jerome's jaw worked. He looked at Y/n, moving close as he usually did. Invading Y/n's space as always. "Are you and Bruce twins?"

"I'm two years older," Y/n answered immediately. "Why?"

"Jeremiah and I are twins." He shook his head. "Now I'm bored. Entertain me, Y/n."

Y/n was suddenly breathless as Jerome lay down, spread out on Y/n's bed. Y/n swallowed, moving to hover over him. He usually topped, but this was Jerome Valeska. Y/n had thought... this would have gone differently, at least. "Undo the jumper," Jerome commanded evenly. Y/n obeyed, dragging the zipper down. Jerome kicked off the cheap shoes he was wearing as Y/n tugged the jumper down. Jerome lay in a muscle shirt and boxers. "Have you ever pleased someone else before?" Y/n nodded. "Men?" Y/n nodded again. While with Penguin, Y/n had had the pick of the litter. Anyone he wanted. He'd had a few, though they still didn't measure up to Jerome. "Consensual?"

Y/n swallowed. "I've had consensual sex with men before, yes."

Jerome rose an eyebrow, obviously sensing the bit of information Y/n was holding back. Thankfully he didn't push. Probably because he didn't want to damper the mood again. "Show me what you know, Sweetheart." So Y/n did.

Throughout the whole ordeal, every time Y/n did something Jerome didn't like, the older boy immediately corrected him. Y/n knew that what he was doing was good enough - he'd gotten people off plenty of times before - but Jerome seemed to be pushing Y/n's buttons. Being specific and picky and demanding. Seeing where Y/n's line was. How obedient he could be. There wasn't anything Y/n had refused to do thus far. Finally Jerome pressed his head back into the bed, his eyes closed and his lips parted. His fingers curled into Y/n's short hair and he spoke quietly, trying to not alert anyone outside who would stop them while trying to keep Y/n under control and finish at the same time.

Men were much easier than woman. It didn't take much to finish Jerome once he was there. He groaned very quietly, his breath hitching and his lower body pressing into Y/n's mouth more, where it had ended up. Y/n let him ride it out then swallowed, leaning back with a grin on his face.

"How was that?"

Jerome sat up, wiping something off the corner of Y/n's lip. He pressed his finger into Y/n's mouth, his smile widening when Y/n sucked it clean. "You're good. I expected you to be less experienced."

"I doubt I'm experienced as much as I'm a fast learner and really good at following directions." Jerome hummed before stretching then moving to redress. Y/n deflated. Jerome giggled when he saw Y/n's shoulder sag. "You want something too, hm?" Y/n swallowed, nodding. "Well, since you were a good boy..." Jerome motioned Y/n closer and the younger boy immediately stood. Y/n went to kiss him but Jerome jerked away. "None of that." His fingers found purchase resting around Y/n's throat. Not squeezing, but playing at the idea. "No distractions. I have to focus." He winked and forced Y/n to turn around, knocking the breath out of the dark haired boy's lungs.

Y/n had always known there was something almost intoxicating about Jerome. Addicting. His smile. The look he got in his eye- especially when he was horny, or when he was really into a joke. The way Jerome held Y/n or pushed or pulled him around. The raw charisma he had, that allowed him to grab a room and keep it completely under control. His easy attitude. His arms and hands and hair and lips. The way Jerome had demanded and kept Y/n's attention even when the boy was repressed due to trauma. Jerome was magic. He could do anything. He was good at everything. He was great at a few things too. Murder. Acting. Being true to himself. Carry out promises.

Fucking. Jerome was really good at that, too.

The boy was setting something off in Y/n and it seemed the more time passed, the less capable Y/n was of going back to the life he had, even just with Oswald. Everyone seemed so impossibly far, but suddenly Jerome was the only person that mattered. Y/n was falling and honestly, he didn't even care.