Work Text:
Something was wrong. Bruce knew as soon as he saw his face.
The Joker looked haggard, more than usual. His hair had practically matted together into a mess of green dye and grease. His eyes were missing the shine they usually had- the one that you could see best when he was causing chaos. His makeup was smeared, most of it gone or settled into the line of his face.
Left in the place of a psychotic, havoc-wreaking clown was a pathetic excuse of a man.
Bruce caught the man as he collapsed. He didn’t struggle against his touch, or even say anything. Bruce hesitantly placed the back of his hand on his forehead, and quickly recoiled when he felt how hot it was. He then noticed how clammy Joker seemed to be.
“You’re sick. I’m going to take you to Arkham.”
Joker protested, weakly shaking his head.
“Don’t. I’d rather die out on the street.” He tried to laugh, but it turned more into a raspy sigh. Despite the comedic tone, Bruce knew he was being serious. It made him a little more concerned than before.
His only other option was to take him to the manor for a couple days, then drop him off at Arkham once he built up his strength again.
He silently carried his enemy to the Tumbler, questioning whether or not this was the right decision.
The car ride was quiet, mostly because it was clear Joker had no energy to talk. He was awake, just unmoving besides his slow blinking. Bruce didn’t mind it, honestly. He still was a little on edge, but for the most part knew that the other man wouldn’t- or more accurately- couldn’t pull something.
Once they arrived at the manor, Bruce carried the man to one of the empty bedrooms not far from his own. He noticed how light the clown was.
Once in the bedroom, Bruce shed the man’s trenchcoat, vest, and shoes. Inside the trenchcoat was all sorts of things (which he took of course) and he noticed a couple knives hidden in the man’s socks (which he took as well).
Bruce gave him some medicine to help with his fever, but mostly left him alone to rest for the night. Once the morning had rolled around though, he decided to talk to him.
Joker was laying in bed when he entered, as expected. He kicked the blankets off and just laid on his back, staring at the ceiling.
“How are you feeling?”
He walked up next to the man to watch him. His eyes met the clowns for a moment, but then they snapped back. He licked his lips, then answered.
“Bad. My body feels like it’s, ah, on fire.. and freezing at the same time.” His voice was raspier than usual.
Bruce studied his features. He looked much softer, much younger without the white makeup caked on. His prominent scars also looked handsome.
Bruce made a mental checklist of the things he’d have to do. Feed him, try to get him to shower, up his dosage later… He didn’t want to bother Alfred with it, as Bruce knew the butler didn’t even like the fact Joker was in the same house.
“I’ll give you a bit more medicine today. Do you think you can keep down solids?”
Bruce felt weird acting like the man’s nurse, but he had done it plenty of times before. Still, he couldn’t help but worry every time the clown came crawling to him like this. Once he got better he’d most likely tease Bruce for his worry, as he always did.
———
A few days had passed and Joker was in much better shape than before. He had been showered, scrubbed of his makeup, given clean clothes, and wasn’t nearly as sick. His fever had gone away for the most part.
He ate mostly soup and crackers, with an occasional bite from Bruce’s plate (when he allowed it).
Things were oddly domestic between the two. That’s just how it was when Bruce was playing nurse for the clown, and once he was healthy enough things went back to normal. It always bothered him though that Joker willingly- and happily- did such domestic things with his enemy. It bothered Bruce even more that he enjoyed it just as much.
They chatted casually like friends, ate dinner together, and even had cuddled together once. The latter was not on purpose, but they both accepted it anyway. The worst part about it was that it felt comfortable… it felt right.
Joker, curled up under Bruce, his head on his chest, legs lazily stretched out on the couch. And Bruce, whose arms securely wrapped around the other, his chin propped up on the top of his head.
When they woke up, Bruce quickly moved away, whilst the clown only gave him a smile that he couldn’t quite decipher; almost a mix between disappointment and amusement.
That had been about half a year ago, but Bruce thought about it often. He turned it over in his mind, thinking about the closeness of it, that smile, the feeling in his chest when he opened his eyes to Joker comfortably sleeping under him.
It wasn’t disgust, or fear. No, not all at. It was the opposite. Admitting that, however, made it too real. He had to keep denying it to himself. But he never was a good liar.
Joker lounged on his couch, casually flipping through some magazine that was thrown on the coffee table.
Suddenly he tossed it aside, looking up at Bruce with a bored expression. He licked his lips.
“When are you taking me to Arkham?”
It was a fair question. Joker was certainly well enough by now to go, but Bruce was putting it off. He liked how things were… he didn’t want it to end.
“I haven’t decided. Would you prefer to be there?”
The clown laughed, a sound which Bruce had grown to fear and love all at the same time.
“No, not at all! Just, ah, found it strange you didn’t haul me off at the first opportunity.”
Bruce thought about it for a moment. It would be best if he left soon. People would start questioning the clown's absence, and keeping him here, even for a few days, was risky.
“I’ll take you tomorrow, once I'm done with patrol.”
———
Evening had finally come, which meant it was time for Bruce to do his patrol of Gotham soon. Before he went to the cave though, he decided to check up on his guest before he left. This was likely the last opportunity he had in awhile to have a productive conversation with him, anyways.
Joker was settled on the couch, watching some sort of old cartoon. His hair was tied back into a small ponytail and he was wearing some of Bruce’s old clothing (which were still several sizes too big for him).
“There you are, Brucie! Come to act like a mother hen?”
“No.” Bruce sighed. “I just want to talk.”
The clown sat up a little, now interested in what the man had to say.
“I’m honored! Bruce Wayne himself wants to have a, ah, conversation with little ole me!” He cackled after seeing how Bruce had grimaced at the man’s words.
Bruce sat down on the opposite side of the couch. He didn’t know exactly what he wanted to say.
“How did you get sick this time?”
“Hm. Great question! It was probably a mix of a lot of things.”
Bruce sighed again. “You need to take better care of yourself.”
“Hah! Sure, I’ll try just for you, darling!”
“I’m serious, Joker.”
“Oh, I know Batsy. I just find it adorable how worried you are!” Another laugh.
“I think anyone would be.” Bruce wanted to believe that, but they both knew that wasn’t entirely accurate.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
There was a pause between them. Bruce noticed Joker licking his lips a lot. It was just one of those strange quirks he had.
Quirks. The man had plenty of those, more than a normal person. Although, to be fair, nothing about Joker was normal. Perhaps he used to be, but those days were long gone.
“Do you mean it?”
Joker turned to him, looking confused. “Mean what?”
“You find it.. adorable?”
Joker laughed at him for what must’ve been the 100th time in this conversation. “Of course! I wouldn’t lie about that.”
“How can you say something like that so casually..?”
“Well, Brucie. It’s, ah, it’s simple. I speak my mind and you always listen, without fail. You’re special because.. no matter what I say, you listen!”
He wasn’t wrong. Bruce always listened to what he said, even if it was nonsense.
“You noticed?”
“Well, of course I noticed. Don’t you like to admire your beloved?”
Bruce should’ve been surprised by the overly casual love confession, but really it was a long time coming. Anyone could see the Joker’s love for the masked vigilante. It was more of a confirmation than anything.
Instead of replying, Bruce wrapped his arms around him and pulled the man into his lap. The clown looked at Bruce with both excitement and confusion. The corners of his scarred mouth curled into a smile.
“Oh, Batsy! Am I finally going to get a heartfelt declaration-”
Bruce silenced him with a chaste kiss. The man in his lap stiffened, and for a moment he wondered if he’d made a mistake. But then he melted into it, looping his arms around Bruce’s shoulders.
When he pulled back, Bruce thought he died for a moment from the sight; his enemy- in his lap- with his hair tied back, no makeup in sight, and slightly flushed cheeks, staring at him with adoration.
“You should see the look on your face.” He whispered into Bruce’s ear.
Bruce was sure his face was a little flushed, even more so when the clown rested his head on his shoulder.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Joker” He mumbled. The clown only laughed in response.
There was a comfortable silence between them for several minutes. Bruce, rubbing the others back slowly as he admired his scars, and Joker fidgeting with a strand of Bruce’s dark hair.
“Hey, Brucie. You’re gonna be late for your, ah, patrol.” Joker muttered, licking his lips.
Bruce had completely forgotten about that. He sighed and guided the other man off of his lap.
“You’re right. I’ll be back at dawn. I trust you’ll behave yourself for Alfred?”
“Of course I will.” He chuckled quietly.
Bruce started heading to the cave, but he was stopped by Joker calling out to him. He turned around, watching as he walked closer.
“Are you really taking me to Arkham? I mean.. we have a good thing going here, Bruce.”
The seriousness of the Joker’s tone worried and surprised him.
“People would start questioning your disappearance.. and if people found out I was hiding you here.. it could be a danger for both of us.”
Joker had an unreadable face, but Bruce saw a flicker of disappointment and sadness in his eyes. Then, back to normal, like it had never happened.
“Well then, I guess we’ll be able to continue our game once I escape, Batsy.” He laughed again, but it felt hollow compared to the others.
Bruce watched as he disappeared off into some other part of the manor.
———
A month later, Bruce found Joker while on patrol, standing out in the rain, perfectly still. He sighed, almost not believing what he was seeing.
“Are you trying to get sick?”
Joker startled a little from the sudden voice, but laughed once he saw it was Batman.
“Batsy! Ah, of course I am! I wanted to see you!” He laughed more at the vigilante’s scowl.
“You could’ve just asked.” He was annoyed but nevertheless escorted the clown to the Tumbler. He tried to ignore the clown’s cheerful giggling.
The car ride was mostly quiet until Joker finally spoke up
“Hey, Brucie. Are we officially an item yet?”
He took a moment to think about his answer, but really he knew what it was from the moment it was asked.
“Yes.”