AN: In which Jonathan takes some initiative. The chapter title is a line from the song Bruises, by Chairlift, which a) sums up the power dynamic I think would be a work in a Jon/Joker relationship, from Jon's perspective and b) has been in my head all day.

Thanks for the reviews!

And this is why questions and asking thereof is a waste of time,

Jonathan reflected, once he could breathe again. Well, that had been absolutely useless. Things were much less clear than they'd been before he decided to ask, and as an added bonus, he now had the image of a nude Joker burned into his mind for all time. Which was somehow horrifying and…not eye-gougingly awful at the same time. Trying very, very hard to convince himself he hadn't enjoyed seeing that, he made his way back down the hall and into the kitchen, in search of the remaining aspirin.

It was nowhere to be found; he guessed the Joker had hidden it somewhere, for reasons he couldn't fathom. If it had been to keep Jonathan from overdosing, he really should have taken the Jack Daniels as well. But there it was, sitting in plain sight by the sink, albeit with a Post-It note reading "Not for Scarecrows" affixed. Honestly. He considered drinking some out of spite, but decided against it. He would rather face the entire GPD and the Batman at once than be hung-over again. Besides, the clown might have poisoned it.

It occurred to him that he was becoming paranoid. But then, there really was no such thing as paranoia where the Joker was concerned. Especially now that things made less sense than ever before. He's leaving it up to me? What does that even mean? Whatever it was, Jonathan took it as a sign that the entire ordeal was just another joke; the Joker would never leave a decision to someone else. Would he? No, it didn't make sense. The only instances he knew of where the Joker had given others a choice were situations in which he'd already manipulated any possible outcomes. Maybe that was what he'd done here; it certainly seemed more likely than his acting out of genuine attraction.

What would he be manipulating the outcomes to, though? Well, if he did agree to let things carry on, he supposed that could be directed in any number of horrible ways. But if he rejected the offer, he didn't see how the Joker could turn "back off" into an opportunity to torment him more. Well, unless he'd substitute flirting with abuse. Then again, being in a relationship didn't stop exactly stop him from being violent. Not in Harley's case, anyway.

He tasted blood in his mouth, a lot of it, and realized he'd been biting his nails again. Joy. Risk of infection on top of everything else. He pulled his fingers from his mouth, glancing down at them with a strange sense of accomplishment. He hadn't thought it possible to bite that far back. It was starting to hurt now, and the bleeding hadn't stopped. Great. He wondered if there was anything in this apartment sterile enough to be used as bandages. Unlikely.

"What the hell happened to you?"

He jumped at the unexpected voice, turning to find the Joker standing beside him. Thankfully fully clothed. "It's nothing."

"Nothing," Joker repeated, grabbing hold of his wrists. "You know, it's bad enough that you're into hurting yourself, but when you do it this way, it's practically cannibalism, Jonny."

He had neither the patience nor the energy to get into it. "Whatever. Let's go."

The meeting with the chemical suppliers had been uneventful, aside from the fact that the Joker hadn't come with him. The clown had given no explanation for why he suddenly trusted his captive not to run off, just handed him a gun for defense and driven away.

He hadn't even stopped the car when they reached the meeting point. Jonathan had been forced to jump out. At last check, both his knees were still bleeding from the impact cuts. He had no idea why the Joker had found that necessary, but given his laugher as he drove off, Jonathan's best guess was 'for fun.'

So here he was, standing on the street corner the Joker had left him at, duffel bag of supplies in one hand and the other on the gun in his coat pocket, waiting for his way home to show back up. It was a nerve-wracking process, though he wouldn't admit it to himself. Gotham City—especially this area—was never particularly safe, unless one was well-armed and in a large group. He was neither, at the moment. Not that he was helpless—he did have large amount of harmful chemicals, not to mention the gun, but survival didn't always come down to who had better weapons. Sometimes it was sheer dumb luck. And now he was injured.

Maybe this is the reason he abandoned me here, he thought, glancing down at the hand clutching the bag. Traces of dried blood remained around his nails, though the actual bleeding had stopped. It still hurt when he moved, though. Figured if I was left here long enough, that I'd panic and be so grateful at his return that I'd rush into his arms and go along with this idiotic scheme? Ridiculous. He may be unnerved, but it would take a hell of a lot more than this to make him lose it.

Though, now that he'd had time to think things through, away from the maniac, perhaps giving in was the best plan, after all. The Joker was more than likely expecting him to say no. Oh, doubtless he had made plans for the rare chance that Jonathan took him up on his offer, but if he was lucky, they wouldn't be as well developed. At least, he'd have a better chance to figure out what was going on. Hopefully. And if he did say yes, it was possible the Joker would think he'd agreed out of attraction. Which wasn't a factor at all, not really. At least, he was doing a very nice job of telling himself it wasn't. But if the Joker thought he was motivated by love…well, two could play at this game, couldn't they? If the plan was to draw him in and hurt him—and that was Jonathan's best guess, at the moment—it wouldn't work if he would be playing the clown the same way he was being played.

It was risky, of course, but then, what plan involving the Joker wasn't? At the very least, being the Joker's lover would mean the Joker valued him in some way, which gave him a slightly better chance of survival. Harley may have been slapped around often, but she'd never been seriously injured, at least, not that he'd seen. All things considered, it was probably the better choice, though he still couldn't figure out how he was going to motivate himself to go through with it. It was one thing to say he'd accept the Joker's advances, quite another to actually—

There was a pair of hands over his eyes, suddenly. "Guess who?"

Jonathan jumped, in such a way that he ended up in the gutter, somehow. "Ow."

The Joker stared down at him, hands behind his back, shaking his head. "You ever noticed you're always hurting yourself?" he asked, sounding as if he was trying to hold back a laugh.

"Have you ever noticed that you're always the cause?" he asked, annoyed, getting back up. He'd be permanently black and blue, if things carried on like this. Or dead.

"Oh sure, blame me for your self-mutilation. That's nice, Jonny, real nice."

"You made me jump out of a moving car."

"Yeah. That was fun." His expression was wistful, hands still out of view.

Jonathan would have liked nothing more than to beat that smirk off his face. Not that he'd be able to. That didn't make the urge to try any less tempting. "What have you got behind your back?" he asked, apprehensive. This can't be good. Knowing the Joker, he'd probably gotten some new knives he wanted to test out. Knives if Jonathan was lucky. Possibly grenades, or worse. He forced himself not to flinch as his companion held out a hand.

If there was one thing he was not expecting, it was to have a rose shoved in his face.

"What the hell?"

"It's a symbol of my love," Joker explained brightly. "Go ahead, take it."

Jonathan stared.

"C'mon, it's yours. Look, there aren't even thorns on it, so you can't tear your hands up any worse than they already are." He said this as if it was some great innovation on his part, rather than the standard practice of florists.

"It's yellow," he said, taking the flower in bewilderment. In a way, it was a nice gesture, though obviously only given to fuel some sick goal.

"What's wrong with that?"

"When it comes to roses, yellow signifies friendship, idiot. It's not a symbol of love."

"Oh." His smile twitched for a split second, as if in danger of faltering. "I knew that."

"You did not."

"Did so. But this way, it can go either way, see? The rose itself signifies love, but the color can indicate that we're just friends." His eyes scrutinized Jonathan's reaction. "Speaking of which, have you made your decision?"

Jonathan attempted to gather his nerve. It didn't work as well as he'd hoped. Or at all, honestly. "Assuming I said yes—"

The assumption alone was enough to make the Joker's grin return to normal. That did nothing to improve Jonathan's courage.

"Assuming I said yes," he repeated, "would I still have a say in what went on between us?"

"Well, of course. Whaddya take me for, scaredy cat, some kinda pervert?"

He was unconvinced. "As in, you couldn't just decide you were in the mood and throw me down on the bed?"

The Joker held up a hand in the Boy Scout salute. "I give my word."

"I wouldn't let you treat me the way you do Harley, you know." Ah, if ever there was a statement to get him hit, that would be it. He tried not to flinch. "As in, if you hit me, I'm going to get angry about it, not get over it the second you kiss me."

To his astonishment, the Joker only shrugged. "Fine by me."

It wasn't a promise that he wouldn't be hurt, but Jonathan had the feeling it was the best he would get. He swallowed hard, twice. "Okay."

The Joker tilted his head. "Okay what?"

Damn him and his need to make everything difficult. As if the butterflies in his stomach and the pounding of his heart wasn't bad enough. He was about five seconds from fainting, or having a break down, or worse. "I'll accept your offer."

Joker looked like a child on Christmas morning, though his voice was still mocking. "Nice phrasing. Way to take all the romance out of the moment, Jonny."

"I said yes," he protested, indignant. And still more than a little afraid. "What does it matter how it's said?"

"God, you've got a lot to learn. C'mere, kitten."

And with that the Joker was up against him, mouth on his. Jonathan only just managed to move the rose out of harm's way, and then could concentrate on nothing but the fireworks suddenly going on before his eyes. And the kiss, which was nice. Very nice.

This is bad, the rational part of his mind informed him. Very bad. You've agreed to something insane without knowing all the details, and now you're letting yourself be drawn in. This cannot end well.

No, his emotional side agreed. No, it can't end well at all. But it's going to be a hell of a ride, isn't it?