“I’m Just Going To Come Right Out And Say It. I Hate You, Joker.”

“I’m just going to come right out and say it. I hate you, Joker.”

“I hate you too.” Joker whispers breathlessly, words shared only between the two of them as their makeshift tower of people is slowly deconstructed.

“I hate you more.” He replies silkily, voice practically a purr, and Jokers knees shake. He looks so happy he might cry when he replies.

“I hate you the most.”

The atmosphere between them is tense, hardly an inch separating them, but whatever tension had been there is destroyed when Barbara interrupts the moment.

———

“Are we ever going to talk about it?” Joker asks a few weeks later as he sits on a rooftop with his masked foe.

Batman turns to glance at him, arching an eyebrow that he knows Joker can’t see.

“Talk about what?” He asks, and Joker throws his hands up in frustration, a scowl twisting his lips.

“Us.”

Fuck. Batman hesitates for a fraction of a second, but decides his best course of action is to play dumb.

“I thought we already did talk about us?”

Joker gives him a flat look, no doubt knowing exactly what he’s doing.

“We almost kissed.”

Well. There it is. Batman grimaces and looks away, cheeks flaming beneath the cowl, and Joker leans closer as he presses on.

“In fact, I’m willing to bet that if Barbara hadn’t been there-“

“Aren’t bets more Harvey’s thing?” He tries, fearful of where this conversation is headed, and Joker crosses his arms over his chest.

“What can I say, I’m a gambler.” He says flatly, and Batman awkwardly gets to his feet.

He turns to flee, but Joker is quicker than him and cuts him off. He yelps in surprise and on instinct his fist flies out with the intent to punch the clown, but Joker easily catches the clumsy punch and raises an eyebrow.

“Batman.” He says firmly, and Bruce hates how his heart leaps and his body tingles. “Why won’t you just talk to-“

“Listen,” He tries to interrupt, panicking internally. He doesn’t know how to do this, he doesn’t do ‘dating’, it took him years to understand how to be part of a family again. “I have a lot going on right now and I-“

“Don’t you give me that classic Bruce Wayne line.” He snorts, and Batman freezes in alarm. Fuck. Before he can panic too thoroughly, the clown continues. “You’re just like him. Always running away from people who are interested-“

“Hey! Bruce Wayne does /not/ run away!” He protests, offended mostly by the truth to the statement. “And neither does Batman!”

“It’s what you’re trying to do right now, Bats.”

He hesitates for a second, and Joker seems to notice, as he steps closer, gaze flicking briefly to the vigilantes lips.

“You don’t even know who I really am.” He protests weakly, and at the skeptical and disbelieving look he receives in return he elaborates what he’d meant. “Under the mask, I mean.”

Joker steps closer, so close Batman can feel his breath on his lips, and his heart is beating so wildly that he thinks he might drop dead before this conversation ends. He doesn’t even remember when they’d gotten so close.

“Then let me see.” He murmurs, fingers gently grasping the edge of the mask.

Reacting with pure instinct he flinches away, putting a few feet of distance between them, doing his best to ignore Joker’s hurt look.

“I can’t.”

He vanishes with the least enthusiastic smoke bomb he’s ever done, leaving Joker alone on the roof.

~~~~~~~~~

It’s a week before he sees Joker again. A week of him agonizing over what to do and talking poor Alfred’s ear off about how much he wants to trust the clown. This night finds him upon a roof, gazing down at Joker as he walks down the street.

He’s unsure what his foe is doing, as he seems to just be looping around the same block over and over again. After twenty minutes of Batman watching, Joker stops and looks skyward.

“Oh my god, if you want to talk can we just talk? Stop watching me from the roof.”

Bruce’s face colours again, but he does as he asks and swoops down from the roof to grab the clown, swinging them back up onto a roof immediately. He wonders if Joker notices the way his arm hesitates around the other mans waist.

“I thought you weren’t going to come around anymore.” Joker says, leaning against the wall and aiming for nonchalance.

“I had to tell you the truth.”

“Which is?”

“I don’t know how to let people in. I’ve been alone since my parents died when I was a kid, and until recently I isolated myself because I thought it was the easiest way to avoid ever feeling that pain again.”

Jokers eyebrows lift in surprise; he’d never known Batman was an orphan.

“I never knew.” He whispers.

“That’s how I wanted it.” Batman mutters. “I didn’t want to let people in. I’m still scared too. I wasn’t kidding when I said I don’t do relationships. I don’t… know how to..”

“Batman?” He prompts gently, and Batman averts his gaze.

“I want to trust you. I feel a connection. My palms get sweaty around you, and my heart runs a marathon. I’m just scared of opening myself up to getting hurt again.” He pauses, tossing words around in his head. “But… I want to, J…”

Joker swallows against the sudden tightness in his throat.

“What are you saying, Batsy?”

Steeling himself, Bruce gently takes Joker’s hands and lifts them to the cowl, placing them where they’d been a week prior before releasing them. Joker seems to understand immediately and looks almost giddy, but he doesn’t move until Batman slowly nods his head.

His heart pounds in his chest, almost hard enough to make him dizzy, as Joker carefully lifts the mask from his face and drops it unceremoniously to the ground with a dull thud.

“Bruce Wayne.” He whispers, cold fingertips falling to the billionaires cheeks. He gently caresses the smooth skin he finds, eyes wide and practically sparkling. “You’re Bruce Wayne.”

“Joker.” He acknowledges weakly. “Is.. that okay?”

“It’s more than okay, Batsy.” He replies, and Bruce’s cheeks flush lightly. Joker audibly squeals. “I hate you.”

“I hate you too-“ He hardly finishes the sentence before Jokers painted lips are upon his.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel as though his heart had stopped beating when their lips met, and he immediately clutches the psychopathic clown closer to himself by grabbing his hips in his firm grip. Joker squeaks softly in delight as their chests press together and Bruce’s hands squeeze tighter on his hips, and Joker’s fingers find and gently tease the short hairs at the nape of Bruce’s neck.

When they part, some of Joker’s lipstick had smeared onto Bruce’s lips, and the clown grins and huffs out a laugh.

“Looks damn good on you. I’d love to see it elsewhere on your body-“ He’s cut off by Bruce dragging him into another kiss.

The clown kisses him greedily, as if this is the only night he’ll have the chance to, and Bruce kisses him like his life depends on it.

“I hate you.” Bruce growls, and Joker grins against his lips.

“I hate you too.”

Their lips firmly lock again, and Joker is walked backward until his back meets a wall. He can’t help the shiver that runs up his back at the feeling of Bruce pinned against him from head to toe.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too.”

Another kiss, and this time Bruce licks into his mouth and Joker’s knees go weak. If not for the billionaires hold on his hips he would’ve fallen. He clutches him tighter, unable to stop the weak moan that bubbles free.

“Bruce~”

“I love you.”

Joker doesn’t even hesitate, drowning blissfully in the thrill that wracks his body at the words.

“I love you too.”