#astrodisea

He’s gorgeous, in a word—even next to the pure magic of the Christmas tree—even rigging illegal fireworks on the highest rooftop around the square. Bruce has no goddamn hope of looking anywhere else. Joker’s smile stretches right to his molars the instant Bruce flutters down to the rooftop. ‘Now, there’s a sight for sore eyes.’ The clown doesn’t try to hide his delight, meeting Batman without an ounce of fear or hesitation. He tucks his fingernails against the glowing Bat symbol when he curls his hands up on the suit’s chest. It would be an embrace, if Bruce only lifted his arms. ‘What took you so long?’ Joker demands, pouting up at him. ‘You nearly missed the countdown.’ Bruce steals another glance at the fireworks. They’re aimed into the sky and not at the crowd, so he’s happy enough to look the other way, returning his attention to the peppermint jester practically purring into his chest. Somewhere in the quiet, lazy part of Bruce’s consciousness, he’s noticing how right this all feels. There’s no malice to it. There’s no pressure of justice or revenge. Joker hasn’t done anything wrong, and the only reason Bruce could even consider fighting him is just for the excuse to catch Joker in his arms. He’d rather have this tonight, though: Joker aglow in the light from the Christmas tree, running his hands along the Batsuit like it’s his God-given right. Bruce can’t help his smile. ‘I thought that was a New Year’s Eve thing.’ ‘Don’t you fret,’ Joker grins. ‘I’ll have one for you then, too. Mm! Speaking of.’ The clown takes half a step back so he can pull open his long crimson cloak, feeling around the white fur lining until he finds the hidden pocket there. He’s pulling out a sleek obsidian box a moment later, complete with a yellow star-shaped bow. ‘I have a present for you.’ Of course he does. Bruce should have seen it coming a mile away. It makes it a little bit easier to surrender his own gift, he supposes. He’s not putting himself on the line now so much as he’s just matching Joker’s energy, anticipating his greatest enemy’s next move. ‘Should I be worried?’ Bruce wonders aloud. ‘Should stars shine?’ Joker’s smile is sharp, cheeky and altogether beautiful. He makes a little gesture toward the neatly wrapped box. ‘Go ahead, baby. Open it.’