AN: Sorry about the delay of this chapter, last night was devoted to watching movies with my roommate. I'd never seen Fight Club, so of course she had to remedy that.
Two more writers I'm recommending: J-Horror Girl and BiteMeTechie. Brilliant I say, brilliant!
Thanks for your reviews!
The ride home was a blur. One minute they were making out on a street corner and the next they were making out in the living room, the journey there nothing more than a vague recollection of near death experiences and the Joker proving that he could, indeed, kiss while he drove.
Well, I'm going to have to insist he start brushing his teeth, Jonathan reflected, as he was half-walked, half-shoved into a wall. Barring that, though, amazingly enough he had no complaints. Having his hair pulled like this wasn't pleasant, true, and all the slamming-into-furniture business was sure to leave bruises, but it was nothing worth breaking the moment for. Not that he was unable to break the moment; he just didn't want to. Because being unable would imply that he was becoming addicted, and that was ridiculous. Things were completely under his control—
He felt a particularly rough tug on his hair, and winced. All right, maybe I do have complaints. He let go of the Joker, somewhat reluctantly, and took hold of the hands grasping his hair, slowly untangling them and moving them away. They came to rest on his shoulders, which Jonathan found perfectly acceptable until one hand trailed down his torso and came to the waistband of his jeans.
He managed not to bite down in surprise, saving them both a lot of pain, and pulled back instead, his own hands pushing the Joker's away. "Hey. No."
"Why not?" The clown pouted. "You'd like it."
Possibly, but he really had no inclination to try it, besides curiosity. It seemed so…instinctive? Animalistic, maybe. Besides, just because he'd agreed to this didn't mean he'd give into anything with no hesitation. "Because I'd rather not have a psychotic terrorist molest me, that's why."
"It's not molestation if you're willing."
"I don't know that I am."
"Aw, c'mon, Jonny." Hands returning to his partner's shoulders, he gave a smile which almost looked normal. "You're the one who initiated this, uh, romance, remember?"
"Last I checked, most relationships develop a bit before the sex." Oh, joy, now he'd insinuated that there would be sex, eventually. Great. At least now he knew the value of carefully wording responses.
"You'd be surprised." His tongue ran over his lips, further displacing the already smeared makeup. "Anyway, I'd don't think you'd call us a standard relationship, wouldya kitten?"
He refused to be won over the lip-licking tic, attractive though it was. And he refused to admit that it was attractive, even to himself. "I'm not having sex with you."
"We don't have to have sex, you know." The Joker tilted his head. "I mean, there's a lot you can do without technically doing it."
"No, thank you." Only now was the insanity of the situation beginning to sink in. What had he been thinking, agreeing to this? Attraction wasn't the same as love. Why was he thinking of this in terms of love anyway? I didn't say yes for the romance, I said it so he'd stop screwing with my head. And in retrospect, it wouldn't stop the screwing around at all, just redirect it.
He was starting to think this had been a bad decision.
It didn't help that there was a very high probability of clown-molestation occurring in the next few minutes.
To his astonishment, however, the Joker only shrugged and leaned back in, their lips meeting again. Though it was rougher this time, almost painful. He supposed he was feeling Joker's sexual frustration, which was interesting, in a way. He hadn't thought of the man as being controlled by physical urges, as being controlled by anything beyond his need for chaos and his obsession with the Batman. So he's not so different, after all. That, or the Joker had only changed his manner of kissing to throw Jonathan off balance. That was more likely, actually.
His hypothesizing was cut short when a sudden pressure on his tongue made him pull back, eyes widening. "You—did you just bite me?"
"Not hard." His expression was nonchalant, as if bite-kissing was perfectly normal. Given Jonathan's lack of experience, it might be, but he doubted it. "It didn't hurt, right? I was going for something unexpected."
"I don't like the unexpected." And that's the understatement of the year. Honestly, everything about their time together had been one unexpected thing after another, and apart from some of the kissing, it had all been miserable.
"I can tell." The Joker pouted, as much as he could with the scars keeping much of his face immobile. "Do you realize how boring things are gonna be if you stay so uptight, kitten?"
"You're the one who wanted a relationship," he said, raising a brow. "I've never put out particularly 'open and adventurous' vibes, have I? What, did you expect me to be so smitten I'd fall to my knees and offer myself to you, or something."
"Now there's a lovely image," he said, eyes flickering back for a second, imagining. "But no, not what I had in mind."
"What did you have in mind?" Jonathan wasn't sure he wanted to know, but couldn't help but ask. Curiosity killed the kitten, he chided himself, then realized he'd used the Joker's pet name for him and died a little inside.
"Making you lose control." He closed his eyes briefly as if savoring the thought, one hand sliding off Jonathan's shoulder and stopping at the end of his sternum, fingers lightly tapping to his heartbeat.
Of course. "I like control."
"I know you do. It's the binding point in your little world, isn't it? That's why making you give it up is going to be so. Much. Fun."
He supposed he should have expected as much from a self proclaimed agent of chaos. "If you want to push me over the edge, why'd you stop?"
"Because that's not the same loss I'm talking about, Jonny." His other hand was on Jonathan's face, tracing the scars as he so often did. "I wanna create chaos. And there's more to creating chaos than tearing things apart, you know."
"There is?" he asked drily.
If the Joker was annoyed by his flippant manner, he didn't show it. "Yes. Chaos is a thing of beauty, an art, scaredy cat. Sure, blowing up buildings is fun, but that's not the chaos. The panic that follows is. And chaos, much like any other art form, takes time."
He leaned forward, lips trailing over Jonathan's scars before he continued. "As an example, remember the rose I gave you? Beautiful, right? Well, it didn't get that way by someone taking the bloom and ripping it open. That would've destroyed it. But given the right conditions, and a lotta time, it becomes," he pulled away, eyes meeting his partner's. "A work of art."
Jonathan, far too flustered by the scar kissing to come up with a counter-argument, settled for an incredulous look. "I'm a flower?"
"Not yet. Right now, you're just a locked-in control freak." The hand against Jonathan's shirt dropped again, and the Joker smirked when he was pushed away a second time. "Which is still nice. Reminds me of the Batman, kinda."
"I remind you of what?" he asked, going as stiff and rigid as he'd always been before they'd begun this relationship.
"Relax, Jonny. It's a compliment." His hand stroked Jonathan's face, doing nothing to dissuade the other's tension. "And an accurate, uh, observation. The both of you are all about control, though his is in regards to Gotham while yours only concerns yourself. That's part of why I like you so much, because you make me think of him."
"I am nothing like him." The comparison turned his stomach. The Batman had poisoned him, robbed him of his sanity, turned him into an outlaw. Well, only outed him as one, but the result was the same. We are nothing alike. Batman seeks to control others, I only care about the order in my own life.
"Denial's more than a river in Egypt, you know." Joker smirked at his wordplay while his companion gave a blank stare. "Don't be unhappy, kitten, it's a good thing. It's what drew me to you. Without it, there wouldn't be an 'us.' After all, you're fun but Bats…well, he completes me."
"So I'm your Bat Lite. There's a blow to the ego." Still, in a twisted way, his logic made sense. If the stories he'd told Harley were to be believed—though likely they weren't—the entire reason he'd become the Joker in the first place was to counter Batman. And they were opposite extremes. Both mad outlaws, but for different reasons and with reverse goals. He supposed the statement wasn't mean to be insulting, or if it was, he wasn't going to take the bait. Jonathan moved in to kiss the clown again, only to find the Joker taking his hands and staring down at them. "What?"
"C'mere." The Joker led him to the couch, sitting down. "There's something I wanna do. Put your hands out."
Jonathan stared at him, hoping he didn't look as apprehensive as he felt. "Why?"
"It's nothing bad, I promise." His partner didn't respond and he sighed. "Please? For me?"
As if I haven't given into nearly everything else you wanted already. Still, he offered his hands. There was that curiosity again, overriding all good sense.
"Thanks." The Joker reached into one of his coat pockets, hand remerging with a small glass bottle, full of clear liquid.
"Is that nail polish?" He tried moving his hands to no avail; Joker had grabbed him again before he could pull away.
"Not quite." The brush slid over his fingers, coating the skin in some places as the clown wasn't putting much effort into stay on his nails. "It's supposed to taste bad enough that you'll quit biting your nails."
He blinked. "When did you get that?"
"Today, when you got the chemicals."
Ah. Well, that made sense. For a moment he'd been entertaining the notion that the Joker made a habit to carry an assortment of random objects on his person in case they'd ever be useful. Actually, he probably did. "Why do you care so much?"
"It's unhygienic."
Jonathan gave a short laugh. "I'm unhygienic? Tell me, have you ever taken a good look at that smile you love to show off?"
"Hey, I can pull off the grunge look. Sadly, kitten, you can't."
He decided arguing the point wasn't worth it and sat back, watching the Joker's progress with equal parts amusement and annoyance. At least the stuff was clear. He remembered the time Harley had offered to paint his nails bright red and mentally shook his head. Then went rigid again, remembering.
"What?" the Joker asked, looking up.
"Harley." Oh, hell.
His expression remained blank. "What about her?"
"What about her? Hello, she's my best friend! Not to mention your girlfriend. Do you realize how hurt she'll be when she finds out what we've done behind her back?" Damn. How could he have possibly agreed to this? He couldn't imagine trying to justify what had gone on to her. Great. Way to let lust completely destroy a friendship, Jonathan. Don't expect her to ever forgive this, you idiot.
Joker was smirking, which didn't surprise him. The man had no decency at all. "She doesn't have to know."
"Of course she does! I'm not going to lie to her." He couldn't lie to her if he tried, anyway. At least, not well.
"You don't have to lie, scaredy cat. It's not like she's gonna walk up to you when you're reunited and say 'Jonathan, did you have sex with the Joker while you were together?'"
It was scary, really, how well he could mimic her voice.
"You just don't tell her. There, problem solved."
"Withholding information I know would hurt her is the same as lying."
"Yeah, but it's a white lie. You know, the okay kind? It would only hurt her to know, so it's fine to hide it."
What a wonderfully twisted life lesson. "It's not a white lie, you're just using that as justification to keep her in the dark."
"Well, duh."
"I am not lying to Harley."
The Joker rolled his eyes, screwing the lid back onto the bottle of polish. "Fine. Let's be logical about this, shall we? We both know you said yes to me to get me to stop psyching you out, don't try to deny it. Harley likes to think of you as her 'poor little mental patient that doesn't know any better' or whatever, so she's not gonna be pissed at you for too long if she finds out, especially if she knows why you said yes. And she won't get mad at me, because she's incapable of staying angry with me for more than three seconds. Besides, she's not gonna find out. So it's all good, okay?"
He was torn between guilt over kissing Harley's boyfriend behind her back and more guilt at the realization that he actually was considering the Joker's excuse. "But what if—"
"Hush." The Joker's hands were on his face again, kissing him before he could protest. "It'll be fine, Jonny. Don't worry about it."
It's official, he thought, as he kissed back, barely reluctant. I am a horrible friend, and Harley has every right to try and kill me. And I'm very likely the worst person in the history of the world. But this…This felt so good it was hard to let the guilt affect him. Which, beyond adding another twinge of guilt, was somewhat worrying. He was supposed to have given in to make life simpler, not because he actually liked it.
It was nice enough, though, that it was hard to remember he was supposed to be playing the Joker the same way he was being played. Which, so far, he'd completely failed at. Oh well. There was always tomorrow.