Batman rubbed lotion on the Joker’s tense shoulders. The Joker closed his eyes in either ecstasy or insanity, it was hard to tell. Lavender scented candles fluttered in the night breeze that blew through the French windows, kissing the napes of the two men’s necks. The new She and Him album played softly in the background, Zooey Deschanel’s voice rising and falling like a slender hand, beckoning them towards romance.
“You’re a freak, like me,” the Joker said. Batman nodded, and leaned down to Eskimo kiss the Joker. He placed his strong, calloused hand on top of the Joker’s clammy, pale hand, and led him to the bathroom, where a clawfooted tub sat filled with steaming water. The Joker nervously tested the water and hissed as he eased his heavily scarred body in.
Through the door, Batman could see the remains of their lobster dinner. The man-handled shells, the congealing butter, the parfait glasses streaked with melted chocolate. They had barely spoken a word during the whole meal, content just to be in each other’s presence, to feel the heat emanating from each other’s bodies, to know that they were complete.
“You look nervous,” the Joker said, and then laughed his intoxicating, high-pitched, delirious laugh.
“I’ve seen now what I have to become to be with a man like you,” Batman said, wiping some ice cream from the side of Joker’s mouth, and coming away with a streak of grease paint. He worked the soap into a lather and cleaned his lover slowly. Gently.
Batman helped the Joker from the tub, his body soft from the water, which had gone a dark, milky brown. “You deserve a better class of lover,” the Joker said. Batman put a gauntleted finger to the Joker’s lips to silence him. They walked hand in hand towards the bedroom. The Joker swept the detritus of dinner to the floor in a loud, angry crash. Batman threw him down on the bed. They wrestled and giggled and became entwined in each other’s arms.
“And here…we…go,” the Joker whispered, sliding his clown colored penis in Batman’s SPOILER ALERT.