Inevitability

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: Batman is owned by DC and others who aren't me.

Pairing: Batman/Joker.

Warning: Rated T for some mentions of violence, etc.

Setting: set sometime after volume 9 of new 52, Bloom. Spoilers for New 52, The Killing Joke, and other comics.

Summary: Before Bloom and he saw a man on a bench, a man the whole city knew, yet he had felt in his heart he knew best. And he remembered. And he wanted more. He wanted more.

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"Let loose a little."

"I feel like people are staring."

"If they are, I'm sure they're looking at how beautiful you are." He croons in his ear, bringing him closer.

Joker cannot flush but would have if he could from that tone, from the closeness of Bruce's body. From the utter confidence in which he spoke to Joker. Despite Bruce having no plus one for this charity event he had come to (no doubt forced to by Pennyworth, as he knew Bruce's stubbornness was only matched by his surrogate father's), he had seemed happy enough, though Joker had noticed he took no one to dance, nursing a champagne glass that no one seemed to notice was never drank from.

It had been on a whim that Joker had decided to come to the event, much less than he had come dressed up and not decided to rob the place. Sure Bruce was currently in his civilian garb, but that hadn't stopped him before and wouldn't stop him now. He always found a way to put on the cowl and cape and he and Joker would start their eternal dance, picking up the next steps.

When he had approached Bruce, wearing a slinky little blue number, his hair hidden under a pretty little red wig, skillfully curled, to help make the makeup he had put on his skin to bring it to more of a regular shade so he wasn't immediately outed look more realistic, he had expected...well he wasn't expecting Bruce's eyes to light up immediately upon seeing him.

Before he react, he finds himself in Bruce's arms (pulled there by a firm but gentle hand), leaving him to gasp as he's against his body. He had been this close to him a thousand times before, but it had never been this...like this. It had always come before, during, or after a fight, major or otherwise, with Bruce's serious eyes looking at him, filled with a disappointment that either hurt or filled him with anger. Or filled him with confusion.

But he didn't know how to stop.

Not then. Not back then when he had been so sure they had to play in set lines (for all that Joker was the self-appointed man of chaos.) But that was before, well...everything. Before he tried to take out Bruce's family because he thought it was what Bruce had needed, before he played the part of Eric Border, before they ended up dead in a cave of dionesium, side by side...when Bruce, despite everything had...he had stayed.

Even if he couldn't have gotten far on his own, that wasn't the point. The point was he had wanted to be with Joker in the end, despite everything.

Before Bloom and he saw a man on a bench, a man the whole city knew, yet he had felt in his heart he knew best. And he remembered. And he wanted more. He wanted more.

He had thought he had felt longing before that and love. And yes, he had. But this was...

But then here he had been and Bruce had reached for him as easy as breathing and Joker didn't know how to take it. Did he know? But surely not, because how then would Bruce look the way he had at him when he approached? But then...wait. His breath catches then, as Bruce's hand on his back guides him gently to the dance floor, which left them to where they were now.

"Let loose?" He says, his voice a light tone. Did Bruce know? "Well if everything they've said about you is true, Mr. Wayne, then I'm sure-"

"No." Bruce murmurs, pulling Joker even closer to him, making him stiffen. He had dressed up but he hadn't exactly, uh, done much down there to conceal himself. "Well, I suppose many things ring with truth-"

Joker feels a flash of jealousy at that. Bruce was his. A flash of nameless, faceless, women flash through his mind, parading themselves through Bruce's life. He hadn't ever liked it of course, but it had never been this intense of a hatred. Before he could compartmentalize it. Bruce Wayne, as the world at large knew him, was a playboy, even when he deigned to be a bit more serious about business, having a woman on his arm wasn't an unusual sight.

Of course Joker knew-because of course he did; who else knew Bruce as well as he did?-that a lot of it was smokescreens. Certainly Bruce wasn't the playboy most thought him to be. He was one of the most serious people in the city, who took Gotham's safety to heart in a way that no one ever had-and never would.

He was the hope of Gotham. Even Joker, at his lowest and most devious points, knew that. It's why he thought he had to be the opposite. Be a mirror to all that. Because if there was no one as greatly chaotic as him, as dark or devious as he...then he wouldn't ever have to worry about Bruce's eyes being on anyone elses but his.

"But I can only loosen up with those I know and love best." Bruce continues. "Even then, I know it's not always easy."

They continue like that for time, quietly gliding across the floor, Bruce more than capable of a dancer as he leads them and Joker manages to relax, despite himself, despite the closeness and the question lingering in his head, despite those that were assuredly watching the both of them, even now.

It strikes Joker then that he's happy. He can't honestly remember the last time he felt such, with no -or very few-other strings attached to the emotion. Certainly being around Bruce always made Joker happy, even when he was angry, but once more...it wasn't like this.

"You're a good dancer." Joker murmurs, a hand gliding up one of Bruce's arms, thrilled when Bruce doesn't stiffen against his touch. He doesn't even look surprised. "No wonder you're the thrill of these events."

"My dancing skills and my money, surely so." Bruce says wryly, though a smile plays on his lips. "Usually people prefer one thing over the other, however."

"Your ass? I can understand why, Mr. Wayne. It's really something to behold, especially in a suit."

Bruce lets out a laugh, ringing out loud and clear and Joker isn't sure which of the two of them is more startled at it. Joker watches Bruce, heart aching at the sight of him, that a sound so pure could come from Bruce's lips, despite everything.

"Ah, I'm sorry," Bruce says, looking flustered, but he doesn't look away from Joker. Neither can look away from the other. The room besides them barely felt real to Joker at this point. "It's only...you're funny, you know."

He had never heard so from Bruce before. It wasn't the first time Bruce had ever laughed in front of him (no that had come on a rainy, unforgivably difficult, night when Joker couldn't accept the hand that had been extended to him. When laughter had been the only thing the two of them could do to stave off the tears-and whatever else might follow.)

He wants to blush again. That funny, peculiar, feeling settling in his chest. He loved Bruce so much he wanted to cry from it. Funny how love could make you hurt worse than anything.

"Thank you." He does his best to smile. "Not many think so, but..."

"They don't know you." Bruce says. His eyes turn serious as his smile turns sad. "They never have."

His heart beats faster. Did he know...?

"No." Joker says. He looks away. "I thought I wanted them to...people at large. But in the end...none of that mattered. Only..."

It's quiet. Then:

"Only?" Bruce asks, quietly, as if afraid of breaking this moment, whatever it is.

"The only thing that's ever mattered is..." Joker chokes out, realizing he's crying only when the taste of salt hits his mouth.

"Oh no, don't. Shh." Bruce says, gathering Joker up close, dancing forgotten (for all that they are on the dance floor still.) "Don't cry. You'll ruin your beautiful makeup."

Joker laughs against his tears. "Nothing about me is beautiful, darling."

He doesn't mean to let out the epithet, but it comes spilling from his lips, unbidden.

"To me you are." Bruce says. He says it so easily, so truthfully that Joker wants to cry all over again. He wipes at Joker's tears. "You always have been. Even when I didn't want to see you."

Joker's eyes widen. Bruce looks at him calmly, smiling that sad smile again.

"You..." Joker chokes. "You know...?"

"Always." Bruce says. He wipes the rest of Joker's tears away. "I'd know you anywhere. You've always had the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

Joker shakes. "Stop." He puts a hand on his face. "Please. I can't take-take-"

Bruce holds him close, stroking his face. "But you can. You've always been so strong."

"I..." Joker shakes his head. "After...after everything. The Dionesium..."

"The cave." Bruce says.

"Yes."

"The bench."

"You knew that was me too." Less of a question this time.

"Of course. Once I saw your eyes, I knew for sure. No one else has eyes like yours."

"You're not surprised to see me." Joker says, only half joking.

"I never doubted you'd come to remember again. I knew it was best if you didn't. You could live a life free of your worries, but..." Bruce looks pensive now. "I'm selfish when it comes to you. I know that. I don't always like to admit to it, but I am. I wanted you to remember."

"Why?" Joker asks, breathlessly.

He had to hear it, whatever it might be, from Bruce's own lips. Already this moment was eclipsing any other he had ever had with Bruce. The man never failed to surprise him and it only served to make him love him more.

"Down there, in the cave, you and me...we both made a decision that night."

"Yes."

"We both knew, before that, we'd die at each other's hand. I don't believe in fate, or destiny, but...inevitability, with you? I could never doubt that. I offered my hand to you before, hoping we could avert that, but..."

Joker looks away again. "I know."

"Once that was over, I knew how it would end. Even then...in the end, it was the two of us there. I could make my choice, how I wanted to go. There wasn't any doubt down there. Not ever. If to be is to die, then I would die, knowing that I could be with you."

He is shaking again, overcome. "Bruce-"

It is the first time he has called him his name so directly to him.

Bruce gathers him close and kisses him.

He moans, feeling the taste of salt between the both of their lips now, as he kisses him back, unable to do anything else.

From seeing his little vigilante, under a mask of makeup and latex trying to stop his Red Hood Gang, to his Fall in the acid, to doing what he could to stand next to him, Bruce, as an equal (because by the time of his Fall, Bruce had already far surpassed him) and had spent his life, all these years, to this moment to be the equal to him that he always wanted to be.

Inevitability, Bruce had said.

Joker had never believed anything else.

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I hope that you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice