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Chapter Text

THE PLAN

CHAPTER 1

WHEN UNDER THE MOON...

At first he thought it might be a good plan, no, idea (because he was not a schemer, so, obviously, he couldn’t have plans), as he was too curious to watch HIM outside of their ordinary dances. After all, what a discovery it had been!

There he was at his place one day, pacing back and forth, barely listening to the news on the TV, and all of a sudden, something captured his attention. A reporter was talking about Wayne Enterprises and his playboy prince, when said prince appeared onscreen.

Just an ordinary rich bimbo, was his first thought, until he paid closer attention to… his eyes! Like an epiphany, the green eyes sparkled with knowledge, even with joy. He looked once more, just to be sure, because oh boy, that was such a revelation.

Afterwards, he’d dwelt and dwelt on his next step. He’d met his Bats in some occasions after that, of course, and he'd tried to spot this Wayne guy through the mask, with little success; so, it was only after much thought that Joker decided, at last, to pay a special visit to him, in his own place. But, amusingly enough, instead of making an explosive entrance, much like his style, he went for a different approach.

And so it brought him to the actual night, hidden under expensive pieces of prosthetics, green curls gone to the lamely bleached black ones and combed into something considered fashion, and dressed to kill, according to the girls giggles and very interested looks in his direction.

It hadn’t been his original intention to draw so much attention, but perhaps that was exactly what he needed to make his task easier.

When Bruce Wayne entered his mansion accompanied by his usual escorts, though, all eyes and attentions were on him, specially the females'.

Only an extraordinary observer of human patterns as the Joker could detect the false smiles Bruce gave to all those craving his attention, or the eyes that remained impassive and trained, never accompanying his smiles. Bruce looked around him as if expecting some enemy to drop by at any moment, his dark eyes scanning while his smile remained in place, uttering words of little significance in order to sound as the empty and spoiled playboy he wanted everybody to think he was.

It was with some evident effort that the unwanted guest mixed with the crowd and denied attention to Bruce. He knew it would be of no use approaching when everybody else did the same. So he waited.

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Sometimes, Bruce wondered how long he could take leading a double life. He feared it would take so long that when the time came, as Rachel warned him, he no longer could live without Batman.

Was he becoming as insane as the madmen he was used to fight? Because every time he had to play his role as Bruce Wayne playboy extraordinaire, something inside of him cringed, some uncomfortable sense of not being himself. And then, when he was Batman, he just was. He felt so much more like himself, not like playing a part at all. So, somewhat, Rachel was right. Bruce Wayne was the real mask, and Batman, Bruce true self.

The strangest of all, actually, was how much he needed to dwell on these thoughts while playing his role, to have his mind away from these frivolities and uninteresting issues, from all the emptiness he felt around him. After all, people would be around him all the time, being he who he was.

Uncanny it was, then, that a certain brunette caught his attention in the middle of the crowd. There was no way not to look at him, and Bruce noticed with curiosity that the man was the only one in the whole place that hadn't paid any attention to him at all. He should be around his twenties, and seemed very comfortable with all the attention he was receiving.

Bruce felt luck then to have someone to share all those people's attentions with.

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"This a wonderful party, Bruce. I'm so glad you've finally invited me to your house." The graceful lady seemed to be an agreeable companion, but to Alfred careful observation, his protégé paid to her the same attention he was paying to his wine glass.

"That is good to know, Miranda. Now, if you excuse me, I have to settle some things to my butler" Bruce said, nodding in Alfred's direction and praising her with his utmost charming smile, which she resignedly accepted.

When Bruce reached his friend, Alfred gave him a quizzical look. "Quite a hard runaway, master Bruce. Are you unscathed?"

Bruce sighed. " Very funny, Alfred."

"Your friend over there seems to be enjoying a lot more your party, sir. Why don't you try and maybe you actually has some fun?"

He looked in the direction Alfred was pointing to, and there he was again. Following the loud music playing, the same young brunette from before put on quite a show, surrounded by in awe girls of all ages, dancing and jumping as there was no tomorrow. His body moved graciously and frenetically, sometimes resembling a kid on his playground. Bruce noticed that despite his lack of technique in the dancing business, his lady companions seemed to not mind at all dancing along with him.

The boy was brave, as several envious humph from male guests spread through the main hall. and he had guts. For who else would show off like that in a Bruce Wayne party, where all of Gotham’s wealthiest and most influent citizens would be present, if not having guts for it? His face would certainly be in every newspaper and magazine in the next day as well, and maybe not with the best reviews.

He should’ve stopped the man, as the party host but… he couldn’t. He envied someone who could be so carefree and spontaneous, when he was two and no one at the same time, in his own house. Too serious, as a certain someone used to say.

"Won't you stop him, sir?" Alfred asked.

There was a brief moment when both men’s eyes met, though: the brunette smirked defiantly and Bruce caught himself smirking back, slightly.

"Let the boy have his fun, Alfred" Bruce said, leaving for most desired solitude.

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Bruce still could listen to the music playing inside even after half an hour outside in the fresh air, sitting at a backwards balcony of his mansion. He tried to focus on the full moon above in the sky, fighting hard his eagerness to put on his bat suit and be free flying around his city.

“Hello there?”

The singsong voice got him by surprise, making him stood up in attack mode, before he caught himself remembering he was not Batman tonight. Calming himself, he realized his ‘guest of honor’ was in front of him, coat back on, his hair in a wild but pleasing disarray after (probably) many hours of that dancing.

"You're Bruce Wayne, right?"

An out of place alarm rang inside his head, but he dismissed it, trying to be polite.

“Guests were not supposed to come here, Mr…”

“Sam. Just Sam. I’m pleased to meet the great Bruce Wayne in person. You’re a …legend, Mr. Wayne.” The young man grabbed his hand enthusiastically (too enthusiastically, he thought), piercing his soul with a deep gaze and (trying) to melt him with a charismatic smile.

“So, just Sam, if you don’t mind, I just wanted to…” Before he could continue, Sam pushed him back to sitting at the balcony, and leisurely sat by his side. Bruce was wide eyed and speechless at such boldness.

“Oh, what a great night, isn’t it? I imagine it must be wonderful to be able to have such a spot to just sit and relax… watch this wonderful moonlight… wow, that’s so cool. Don’t you think?” he said gesturing wildly with his hands and ignoring Bruce's stern stare.

Bruce felt like punching him right there. But his behavior was so childish that he decided, for idle curiosity, to see to what it would lead, for the moment.

“It’s not so usual for me to come here. That’s why I wanted to enjoy it tonight, alone.” Bruce emphasized the ‘alone’ part strongly.

Sparkling green eyes stared at him. “Bet it’s a hard job to put up with all those no-brains you must date all the time, huh?”

“My dates are of no concern to you, you know?” Try to be calm Bruce!

A knowing smile graced his face this time, a genuine one, and just then he realized how beautiful the young man was. Familiarly beautiful.

“Don’t you worry, I promise I will be a much pleasanter company.” The alarm went higher and Bruce stiffened. Sam turned his eyes to the moon again, locks of black hair enframing the ghost-white face.

At least he was silent, Bruce thought. Quiet ensued for about half an hour, only the music from the inside being their company. Why he hadn’t yet called for security and thrown this man out of his party, Bruce couldn’t tell. After a while, he was preparing to go back to the party and tell his ‘company’ about that, when he was surprised (again) by said company standing in his very front, too close for comfort.

“What now?” he said abruptly.

“Dance with me, Mr Wayne?” Bruce blinked three times before understanding the meaning of the request.

“What?!”

Sam inched dangerously closer, arms resting leisurely at his sitting legs. “Dance. With. Me. I love this song, we must dance.” The same arms grabbed him to the floor, and held for his neck, pulling to the garden soil. “Huh?”

Bruce was flabbergasted. How dare he…? “He pushed the man away, breathing heavily. “Are you flirting with me, Mr Just Sam?”

If possible, Sam’s smile widened, what, for some reason, send shivers through Bruce's whole back. He closed the distance between them quick as a raven, faking a most innocent face. “Me, Bruce, flirting? No, no, I just want to dance with you. Just that.”

Bruce took another step backwards, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what you know about me, just Sam, but I don’t fling that way.”

The brunette advanced closer, defiantly cocky. “You know, you like to imply things that are not true.” Closer even. “Why, are you afraid of me, Brucie?”

Bruce sighed. The other smiled even cockier, if possible. Should he risk a fight and possible unwanted attention, or should he comply with this strange boy? “If I agree to this nonsense, you promise to leave me alone afterwards?”

“I’m a man of… I mean, yes, ‘course.”

Bruce closed the distance between them, grabbing Sam roughly by the waist. “Enjoy your time.”

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"Sam" Joker smiled triumphantly, rocking his body to the sweet melodic rock playing, feeling all super in Bruce’s arms. The song was sensuous and to his utter amazement, unlikely his bat persona, Bruce was … interesting, to say the least. Not so much as Batman, but still, worth his time.

They separated, Joker danced his sensuous dance, Bruce watched, the clown saw it, with a look he’d only see during their nighttime dances. He didn't mean to act on such shame flirting, but it was so much fun to just stop as yet.

As Bruce motioned to turn around, Joker jumped over him, in a mix of embrace and grab. “The dance is not over yet.”

What eyes, the clown thought, before being held tight, spiraled, and held tight again, Bruce dancing so close to him, so tempting close, then spiraling again. He wanted to erupt in laughter, to show his utter delight, but he managed to contain himself, instead throwing his slender body against his partner, giving in to him as he’d never done as the Joker.

The music was long gone, or they’d gone into another without noticing, because it took exhaustion to stop them. And when they did, the Joker was in a dangeours awe at the way Bruce was looking at him. His bats…

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Was he getting crazy? The first music had long ended, and he went on with that madness, dancing and giving in to the young man, this force that dragged him to the unthinkable. That annoying familiarity again.

They stopped, staring at each other. Those green eyes were at him in adoration and sweet innocence, and maybe something more. His hands went to the dark hair, removing it from Sam’s face, caressing the smooth skin, then tracing the way to his lips.

Maybe it was the moon, maybe it was his longing and loneliness, and next, his lips were in the other’s neck, which was offered most willingly. He heard the intake of air as he tasted him, tenderly as with a first love, then his cheekbones, and then, almost coyly, his lips.

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It was so good and yet so painfully strange. He was in heaven, oh, boy, he was. Or in a perfect hell, he couldn’t tell. It was not for him, things like these were a distraction, a weakness, but with Bruce, Bats, it seemed right.

He was being kissed, not passionately, not ruffianly, but with heart crossing tenderness, lips parting to deepen the kiss carefully, and if this scenario had not even crossed Joker’s mind when he’d first had this idea, and if he wanted to burn Gotham to the ashes right now, he was actually quite enjoying himself.

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Nervous coughing interrupted their momentum, an astonished Alfred staring at both men in a very offended manner. “Master Bruce, if you enlighten me.”

“Alfred…” Bruce looked at Sam/Joker and at Alfred, words faltering him.

It was the other then, putting his best ‘I’m so innocent’ face, who spoke. “We were just having a good, huh, chat going on here, Jarvis, nothing to worry about. In fact” he looked at Bruce as if apologizing "I was already on my way out.”

Bruce was still dazzled as his companion left in a hurry, like a child caught in the act, while Alfred still looked at him as if he’d grown two heads.

Chapter Text

THE PLAN - CHAPTER 2

FALL

The week had been a parade of Gotham’s finest freaks. It was as if all villains in town had decided to spread chaos at the same time, giving Batman no single break.

Every villain from Gotham, except for one – the Joker.

Even being exhausted on putting back each one into Arkham, his mind still focused on the clown’s absence. It was worrisome because every time he disappeared for a long time, it meant major disaster and bloodshed at his comeback.

Six months, and nothing on the Joker, as if he’d vanished. But Batman knew better.

He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, his bad leg bothering him more than usual after being stabbed twice few hours ago. Distraction was a luxury to him, a death sentence for someone in his position, and yet, he had been too distracted lately.

The Joker issue, yes; but it was another green eyed young man, one that didn’t kill people or blew up buildings, that was mostly on his mind.

That night, with him, he’d felt alive again.

A sudden lapse, a foot gone wrong, and a nasty fall followed.

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Night watch was something unusual for the clown, specially such a long and quiet one like that. Night after night, for the past week, Joker had silently watched Batman in the shadows.

Not an easy task, for he longed to talk, touch, kick, anything that placed him near the Bat. After that night in Bat's arms, his mind was even more agitated, in a frenzy. Keeping his almost non-existent self control had never been so impossible.

It’d been worthy, though. Batman was different, not his usual self. He understood the Bat too well to tell that something was off.

Like tonight. It had been ridiculous, really. Almost absurd. Batman had left a commoner stab him, apparently deep, which might explain the lopsided way he walked or ran.
The nerve! Only him could stab Batman, only him! Anyway, eventually all Joes were put down, but still, he’d let his guard down.

Joker intended to go and punish the stabber himself, but following Batman was his priority.

Not a difficult task, in fact. From rooftop to rooftop Batman jumped erratically, probably trying to reach his cave before losing too much blood and blanking out.

Well, instead, a leg failed and Bats fell a nasty, big fall.

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Bruce cursed inwardly. He’d spared his injured side, but had hurt his right arm badly; also, more blood flowed from the stab wound, becoming even harder to remain conscious.

“My, my, Bats, getting too old for the job?”

Hell, no! Now not… Bruce cursed a second time.

The clown stood against the front wall, smirking at him as if it was Christmas day.

“Joker!” he managed to growl, forcing a defensive countenance, though visibly breathing with some difficulty. “What do you want?” Instinctively, Bruce placed his hand on his injury, protectively.

Joker smiled wickedly, but made no move to attack. “Bad night, huh? Your fault, ya see, douche bag was a no one, and you let him get ya like that. Tsc tsc, shame on you, darling!”

Batman frowned. “You were following me?”

“Me? No, no” he said faking an innocent face. “See, Bats, I’m a busy fellow. I was just on my way home, crossed paths.” Joker stepped closer, kneeling down beside the slumped form of Batman. “Guess you’re just lucky it’s me, imagine what a bad guy would do to you, huh?” he said, pointing at the river of blood at Batman’s injured side.

Batman tried to stood, but failed and fell again, grunting, placing a hand on the wound. “Kill me as much as you would, clown.” His vision became blurrier, and he was certain death would come fast.

Joker’s expression became more serious. “Here, hero guy” he motioned closer to touch Batman and help him stand. “Let me help…”

“No!” Batman yelled, trying to push the clown away. “Don’t need your help!” With the effort, darkness enveloped him at last, his body falling limp in Joker’s arms.

“Fuck!” It was all the clown could think…

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Three days later, the rustling of opening curtains and sunlight awoke Bruce slowly. Still confused on his whereabouts, he covered his eyes with his hand, groaning.

Alfred was in front of him in an instant, a tray with bread and coffee placed in a small table by his bed side.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, master Bruce.”

“Alfred?” Bruce said weakly. “What happened?” Bruce sat up slowly, finally at ease with his surroundings. He groaned in pain at the effort. “I remember getting stabbed and falling and…”

“And a certain clown that despite my disbelief apparently saved your life, sir.”

“Joker! How on earth…?

“He left you here by the manor’s doorstep, making quite sure I’d keep you alive, if I desired to keep breathing. Quite straight to the point, I must say. “
Alfred face hardened, and the look he gave Bruce said there was more.

“What, Alfred? I know you.”

“This thing that you two share, master Bruce, this connection, as the clown mentioned, is too disturbing and dangerous. Exceedingly disturbing.”

“And?” Bruce wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the rest.

“And what this disturbance can arise in such a disturbed mind as the Joker’s, sir, it… He is in love with you, master Bruce, it was obvious in every little action towards you that night, the desperation in his voice.”

Bruce sighed, a headache coming. “Joker can’t love anyone, Alfred, he’s too broken for that. Obsession is a better world.”

“Say what you might, sir, but I still believe he does, in his deranged way, and this might bring chaos you might not be prepared to deal. Consider the words of a fool old man, sir.”

Alfred closed the door quietly, and Bruce was left to a great headache.

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Joker didn't like it, didn't like it at all. Going soft on Batman was not part of the plan, and it was ruining every possibility of any fun to it. What the hell was on his mind?

He paced back and forth in his lair, some goons terrorized to being shot at any moment, given the sour mood of their boss.

Instead of shooting, though, Joker knocked his head three times in the wall, sitting moody in his chair, eyes glinting with madness, and in obvious and dangerous contemplation.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 - In the meantime...

After he'd served himself some breakfast, Bruce retreated to the solitude of his cave.

Batman had been away from Gotham for three weeks while Bruce Wayne recovered from his injuries completely, enough time for havoc happen and a new terrorist to rise in town. In front of him the screens of his computer showed every media news on the name 'Bane', a few scattered amateur pictures that helped very little in recognizing the man.
However, more than his recent attacks against politicians and public events, what worried Bruce more was the fact that Bane's tactics resembled very much those used by the League of Shadows.

Rha's was dead, wasn't he? Yet, every video of his attacks brought back memories of what he'd learned with him. Their returning to Gotham with so many new threats to deal with was not something Bruce was ready to face. What if they managed to convince someone as Riddler or Scarecrow to join them?

Or... the Joker?

No, he didn't want to think of him. Joker was amiss ever since their last meeting, and he was grateful the clown gave the city some peace in his absence. But he truly didn't want to dwell too much on him, not yet. Alfred's words still lingered on his mind.

He switched the screen to news on himself instead. The usual, gossip in his possible whereabouts, new self appointed affairs, close friends he had no idea who they were... He stopped in one particular picture - the one of Miranda Tate.

The woman, a foreign executive who'd landed a while ago in Gotham, had been insistent in hitting on him every time they met, and after Alfred's many insistent pleas to give her a chance, he dated her for a few weeks; she'd been a good company in bed and in social events, but the affair made him feel even more emptier than before, and he'd ended it for good. She apparently took it lightly, but kept insinuating herself on him in spite of that.

The ghost of Rachel still haunted him...

A buzzing sign interrupted Bruce's musings, bringing him back to reality. Alfred was on the screen, a face not so friendly.

"Master Bruce, I'm afraid your presence is required in here."

Bruce sighed. "I don't want to be interrupted, Alfred."

"I insist, sir, you have a... visitor. A young man named Sam you met at your last party."

Bruce's heart skipped a beat; he could ignore it and tell Alfred to send him away.

Instead, though, he sees himself telling Alfred he is on his way, turning down the computer, grabbing his jacket and running for the secret entrance a little hastier than he'd like to sound.

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As their eyes met for the first time after a month, the Joker had to employ all of his willpower to not jump in awe at seeing his Bats again.

Yes, he was angry at first, but right then, all he could think was what the hell was going on inside his guts that made his so freaking agitated and nervous. He had a plan to commit to, he couldn't let Batman realize who he really was.

Not yet, at least.

So he put his best charming smile on his lips (the prosthetics pestered him, a necessary evil), without realizing that his eyes were gleaming, giving him an appearance of a teen in love.

"Hello, there, Brucie! Happy to see me?"

Bruce was looking at him with a contained face, showing little of his feelings. So much like Bats, he thought.

"I am surprised, Sam! It's been a while."

His target had stopped in the last stair, as if considering his next step. Joker walked slowly to him, stopping right in front of him, trying a more serious countenance to impress Bruce. He cocked his head to the side, giving some time to Bruce. "Sorry, I've been...busy." He extended a hand, which Bruce grasped surprisingly fast, bringing him closer. "Missed you lots, you know?"

And Joker threw himself fully into his arms.

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Bruce froze as Sam embraced him for dear life, supporting his head in his chest. "I missed you so very much, Bruce."

That must have been the moment Bruce realized he had indeed missed the young man, and relaxed enough to envelope Sam back in his arms protectively. One of his hands played with the curls, while the other took his chin, forcing Sam to look up at him.

And Bruce kissed him, at last. First, softly like in that first night, raising slightly to a cautioned passionate kiss. It didn't sound as his most reasonable decision, but something in Sam ignited fire in him, and other feelings he usually disliked dwelling on.

When they broke for air, Bruce was greeted by the most infatuated face he'd ever had looking at him. "I've missed you too, Sam" he finally admitted, to which the other smiled sheepishly.

Beaming, Sam whispered "Good to hear, love."

Sensing Alfred must be watching, Bruce grabbed the young's man hand. "Come, let's go for a walk."

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Surreally, the Joker/ Sam saw himself strolling around the mansion's impressive garden surroundings, hand in hand with Bruce Wayne. A titanic effort was necessary for him to keep his boiling temper in check and not be found out.

He had to keep with his plan, not let it fail because of his intense need to act like a stupid infatuated giddy girl.

Their walk was slow and silent for awhile, Joker unquiet too, just going along with Bruce's silence, waiting.

Bruce stopped at last near the spot behind the mansion, with a glorious view of Gotham from above, where they kissed that night. He turned to face the Joker, his face a little more closed than before.

"What do you want from me, Sam?"

Mistrust. Joker was prepared for that, making the most honest and innocent face he could fake. "I think it was obvious, Bruce. I want to date you."

Bruce's eyes widened in surprise, backing away a little and dropping his hand in the process. "Excuse me?"

"I - want - to - date - you! Why the surprise, Bruce, after that kissing back there?" Temper, he forced himself to keep.

Bruce looked at him as if he had grown an extra head or something like that, defensive. "Sam... do you know who I am? How many people are after me day after day?"

Joker was let some of his annoyance show through Sam's face. "You are Bruce Wayne, richest and most handsome man in Gotham, king of the bimbos, mysterious type... did I forget something, dear?"

At Bruce's stern look, Joker continued. " Of course I know who you are, Bruce, who doesn't? But I don't want the rich prince, or your money, or whatever you have..." He stepped closer, invading Bruce's personal space, staring deep into his wary eyes. "...all I want is you!"

Joker noticed the sharp intake of breath of the other, the slow descent of shoulders, the gears in his mind running into resolutions.

Batman was his favorite puzzle and solving him excited Joker to the core. To be able to see his mind working up close like that, with this real mask on, was an opportunity he knew he had to enjoy at its best.

It made him so... enamored! "So" - he ended then, with a dramatic flourish, kneeling - "would you my dear Bruce date this poor infatuated nobody?"

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Looking at his suited figure in the mirror, Bruce thought for the thousandth time if he had taken the right decision.

He had said yes to Sam's proposal, with a promise to keep it slow and secret for now. The press would eat Sam like predators if someone found out, and would not leave him alone for years. Bruce Wayne dating not only a man, but a man out of the high society, a normal person.

Bruce could picture hell coming.

Adjusting his tie, he sighed thinking on the upcoming Luthorcorp party he was forced to go, just when he would prefer to go into his Batman suit and jump to the night outside, letting every scum know he was alive and back.

But Alfred was right, Bruce Wayne was absent for too long, and this party was the social event of the year, he had to be there, for his company, at least. His only request to his butler had been going alone this time, free of his usual (and unwanted) escorts.

He suddenly remembered Sam, the way he jumped like a child and kissed him as he agreed; he knew almost nothing of the young man ('just a poor theater comedian', he'd said), yet his heart beat a lot stronger with him around.

And he was officially in a relationship! Well, secret, but nonetheless, a real relationship. Another look at the mirror proved that this one good thing in his life softened the hard lines of his face, and he allowed himself a little smile before heading for the party ahead.

As it was, forty minutes later as he entered Luthorcorp Year Celebration at Gotham Hall, his presence was noticed by everyone, despite his unusual discretion and the absence of famous ladies by his side.

Bruce breathed hard and deep, looking through the crowd and trying not to show his abhorrence in being there. Instead, a most charming smile showed and he began the ceremonial of hands shaking and hellos...

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For the important celebration it was holding that night, Gotham Hall's security seemed incredibly careless. His henchmen trespassed it easily, putting down and replacing several actual guards, who placed themselves into the previously planned positions.

It all was orchestrated for his great entrance, and he was sure his Bat would certainly show for some play time. His boyfriend, he giggled at the thought, even if the other knew nothing about it, it would be fun to be around the Bat being quite aware of who he is.

Dating, after all, could be done in several ways, right? With all the willpower he had, the clown took hold of his anxiety, yelled madly at some of his other henchmen, who'd been eyeing him strangely these days, at the absence of the usual bloodshed in their boss way.

Joker, after all, sounded all full of himself, too happy to even care to kill...for now!

"Pay attention, dead brains, it's showtime!!