01/20/23: Hello, friends! It's been so long since I've updated, omg !! College drains me of wanting to write, and I rarely have time to work on updates. But, now that the Fall Semester is over, I finally have time to work on this silly little fic :)

Thank you for being so patient with me in awaiting the new updates. Even I haven't wanted to go this long without updating because I like maintaining a schedule LOL. But... without further ado, I hope you enjoy... >:)

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It was nights like this that made Batman yearn for the Joker.

            He lingered on the rooftop of Edward Enterprises, cape fluttering in the wind. He peeled off his face mask and cast it aside, body aching with fresh bruises as he rested his elbows against the concrete railing. Bane had been hell to deal with, but he'd finally gotten him back behind bars with Commissioner Abe's help. Now, as he gazed at the dark, endless stretch of city below, that vacant feeling creeped up on him like it always did after fighting crime. The absence of the thrill, the fighting, the anger. The pressing, incessant realization that—without any of them, these vagrants in Gotham—he would have no idea what to do with his life.

            It was nights like this, sucked into the void of his thoughts, that made Batman want the Joker: beyond their fighting and useless remarks; beyond their walls of hatred and elaborate schemes.

            Now that Damien no longer had the Joker's crimes to occupy his mind, he had all the time in the world to think about him. Even as he got closer to William Barnum, he wondered about the Joker. If he was being honest, all he ever did, now, was think about him. Was he still alive? Could he actually be dead? What happened to him? What was he doing now?

            Batman ran a gloved hand over his face and exhaled, feeling the first droplets of freezing rain.

            What if he scared Joker off for good? What if what he'd said really broke what they had?

            Sirens wailed throughout the city, a harmony in Gotham's lullaby. He recalled the countless nights with those sirens in the background as he chased Joker throughout the city. Recalled their wails as he threw him around: Batman, giving punch after punch; Joker, taking each and every hit with a manic smile. They had always had that game, as much as Damien hated the word. But he'd never truly realized how desperately he held onto it, that game of theirs. Never realized that they had something beneath the violence, beneath Joker's crimes and Batman's burning need to catch him.

            He could feel it now, with Joker gone. He could feel it now that he thought about it, when all he could do was think about it because there was no Joker to distract his thoughts, because there was no façade of hate he could put on to suppress everything else. Without the Joker, he was left to the rawest parts of himself, the parts he desperately denied and called wrong, the parts he'd always wanted to lose himself to and called childish.

            It was nights like this that made Batman want to kiss the Joker.

Really kiss him. Again, and again. The kind of kiss that he wished he could have with him, as he'd wished so many nights before but never acknowledged. It was nights like this that made him wish he didn't hold back; that made him wish he would forget his reputation, just for a night, to lay bare his feelings for the clown. To lay bare his years of yearning—his lawless thoughts that wanted to feel the Joker, his skin, his breath, his gaze.

            It was nights like this that made Batman realize he didn't just obsess over him as an enemy—but as a lover, too.

            It had taken three months for Batman to put the feeling into words. For those thoughts to truly come to light, free of suppression, to be acknowledged and identified.

            He supposed it was a blessing, Joker's absence. He wouldn't know what he'd do if the clown came back after he came to terms with how he felt; worried he'd lose control, knowing Joker felt the same way.

             "I've wanted you..." Joker's words rang in his head from the night he'd gone too far. He could still see him clearly, after all these months. His battered figure, the manic rise in his chest, in his eyes. His hands as they shook with his confession. "I've—always wanted you..."

            Damien swallowed and ran a hand over his chest, the Batsuit damp from the swelling rain. It was cold, being up here. He told himself he deserved it.

            What would happen, really, if he let himself indulge in the Joker for a night?

            His heart raced at the thought. The back of his head screamed no in habit.

            No one would have to know, he thought, swallowing as he stared at the streets below. Nightgoers paced the streets, couples linked in pairs. His eyes focused on them.

            Batman and the Joker could never be like that, he noted as he watched the couple, leaning into one another and laughing. But... they could—

            A ringtone cut sharp through his thoughts, making him jump. His eyes tore away from the couple as he picked up his mask to answer the call.

            "Hello?" he said, pressing the headset against his ear.

            "Damien," came Will's voice, warm and rich through the speaker. The sound sent a jolt through his figure. "Are we still on for tonight? 7 PM?"

            Damien turned towards the clock tower rising above the other buildings. 6:47.

            Shit.

            "Yes—yes," said Damien, clearing his throat. He shoved his mask back on and readied his grappling hook. "I'll be ready in a moment."

            "Good," said William with a smile in his voice. Damien warmed to it. "I'm here already."

            "What?" Damien blurted out, shooting the grappling at the nearest building. "I mean—"

            William's laugh came through the line, soft and reserved. Damien leaped off the building and swung towards Edward Manor, keeping an eye out for any possible witnesses. Especially Will. Will couldn't see him coming home.

            "You're so cute when you're flustered, Damien," said Will, and Damien could imagine him shaking his head fondly. "Say, it is a bit cold, though... Can I come in?"

            "Of course," said Damien, the manor coming into sight. "I'll tell Xilef to let you in."

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Damien cursed at himself in the mirror as he finished getting ready, slicking back his hair. He'd covered up the bruise along his cheek from his fight with Bane, but there wasn't much he could do about the cut on his lip, which still sang with pain when he touched it.

            He tightened the tie around his throat, thankful for the suit that covered up the bruises that spanned across his chest, his ribs. His muscles ached with each movement, and he wanted nothing more than to sit and rest a while, but he didn't want to keep William waiting.

            Damien walked into the main lobby moments later, meeting the back of Will's frame. A suit hugged his figure in a different shade of brown, and when he glanced over his shoulder and met Damien's eyes, the billionaire felt that jolt through his body. At first glance, he could see the echoes of Joker's features in Will's face, the familiar glint in his eye. But when Will smiled and splayed out his arms, greeting him with that honey-warm voice, any resemblance of the clown left his head.

            Damien offered him the charming smile he gave to the public. "William," he greeted, offering his hand. "So sorry to keep you waiting."

            William grabbed his hand, but instead of shaking it, he pulled him into a hug and pat his back. Damien faltered, pressed against the strong warmth of him.

            "No need to be so formal, darling," Will's voice brushed against his ear. When he pulled away, smirking at Damien with half-lidded eyes, his heart couldn't help but flutter. "So." He pat the side of Damien's arm and walked alongside him out the door. "Where to?"

            The doors opened from outside, and Xilef held them open, his gaze lingering on William a moment too long. Damien didn't blame him. The man was gorgeous.

            "It's a surprise," said Damien, giving a nod of thanks to Xilef. A black car waited at the end of the marble steps to the mansion, and Damien rested a hand along the small of Will's back. "I hope you like music."

            Whatever Damien liked, William liked. That would make him more lovable, right?

Damien opened the car door for him.

"Of course," said Will happily, smiling. "But it better be jazz."

            Will slid into the passenger seat, and as Damien closed the door and circled around the car, Will glanced at the top of the marble steps and found Xilef's blue eyes burning into him, his face like stone. There was a look in them he both feared and recognized: suspicion. That look would be his enemy, the emotion he would try his best to avoid to protect his alias, but he couldn't deny that seeing it in someone's face made a chill race down the Joker's spine.

Xilef's eyes narrowed, holding Will's gaze, and the clown couldn't help but smile at him, letting his persona crack just a fraction.

It'd be a shame, thought Joker, catching the faint rise of Xilef's brows, if he caused problems.

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The restaurant glowed dimly, the gentle melody of a piano lacing between the click of cutlery, the soft chatter of black-tied guests, and the rush of waiters passing to and fro with trays of food and champagne.

            Damien and William sat near the entrance, their table a large booth by the ceiling-high windows. It was enough to shield them from the prying eyes of the other dinner guests, some of whom had already begun to gossip the moment Mr. Edwards walked through the door. He paid no mind to them, eyes briefly scanning the restaurant while William peered at him over his menu. Damien's body language was more noticeable when Will looked at him more closely, studying the way he'd chosen to sit at the side of the booth facing the door, where Damien would have the perfect eye line of any other guests walking into the restaurant. The window view must have been intentional, too: Damien could look out the window at anyone walking past on the sidewalks, at any cars that passed, and at stores across the street full of people.

            Will couldn't help but smile to himself, dipping his eyes to the menu before Damien could find him staring. Always so on guard, his Bat. He wondered if the Joker's absence made that worse.

            "I've gotta say," laughed Will quietly, willing that warm smile on his face. When he met Damien's eyes on him through the dim lighting, it wasn't an effort to feel warm everywhere. "I'm not used to all this fancy getup. You're going to have to guide me through it."

            Damien smiled, taking in the other man's expression, how the candlelight warmed his features. "Would you be willing to try something other than champagne?"

            "Ohh, I dunno," said Will, coaxing that slur in his voice. He recalled the night they first met—or when Damien first met William Barnum. Was touched that the billionaire actually remembered what he'd drunk that night when they spent the rest of the party together talking about nonsense. "Surprise me."

            "I don't think I could live up to that request," said Damien with a smile as he flagged a waiter down. "You're full of surprises." He sent him a playful look. "How could I compete?"

            "Oh?" said Will, smirking. "What do you mean by that?"

            Damien ordered themselves a type of wine Joker couldn't even think of pronouncing. No doubt it came in the same kind of bottle perfect for smashing people's heads in with.

            William pushed the thought, and the amusement of it, away. Tried to focus on what his alias would think of, on what he would say. Focused instead on the way Damien carried himself around other people, the way his body would have a subtle shift into that public persona the media adored him as.

            "You," said Damien after the waiter poured them glasses of red wine, set the no doubt very expensive bottle on the table, and walked away. Joker could smash people's heads in luxury with that thing. "The moment I saw you at the gala, you surprised me. With the way you dressed, the way you looked... you weren't trying to blend in with the status quo." He picked up his wine glass and swirled it, glancing down at the contents. "If anything, you made a point of standing out."

            William had to keep himself from grinning at the giddy feeling coursing through him, reigning himself in with a tamed smile. "You sure know how to fluster a man, Mr. Edwards," said Will with a soft laugh.

            "It's the truth," he said. "I'd tell you to forgive me for being so straightforward, but... I remember you're the same way."

            He winked, and when William picked up his glass, Damien tipped his own toward him.

            "I do like my men forward," said William, feeling his face heat. He raised his glass to his lips, pausing to watch Damien tip his head back a fraction to drink. His heartbeat went wild in his chest, his blood heating. He quickly followed suit to hide the color in his face.

Was he seriously this crazy for the billionaire? What was he, some—some crushing schoolgirl?

They set their glasses down and Will glanced down at the menu, avoiding Damien's gaze to pull himself together.

The night William first met Damien at the gala, it wasn't nerve-wracking at all. He knew the right things to say, the right ways to act; played off Damien's surprise and the shifts in his mask when he mentioned the Joker and the Bat. Because that night, it had been a game. Each move, carefully played out. Was this so different?

Damien placed their orders after William told him to choose for him, and he couldn't help but study the billionaire's features.

It was different. That night, Joker only suspected Damien of being the Batman. Enjoyed asking all the right questions to get him unnerved, to see who was really under the mask. But now... now, he was certain of who he was. And how to go through with that, while staying as William...

They had so much history. It made Joker's skin itch that Damien could look at him without an ounce of recognition in his eyes, without realizing who exactly it was sitting in front of him so casually. The billionaire only had a flash of that recognition at the gala, but the effectiveness of his alias wiped it away. Joker had the urge to reveal himself now just to see the look on Damien's face—the shock, the horror. Had the urge to quit the act just so he could terrorize the streets again, just so he could get under the Bat's skin.

Joker's hand twitched under the table, and he clenched his fist, exhaled, and reached for his wine glass, sipping slowly. As he drank, calming himself, focusing on the tang of alcohol in his mouth, he closed his eyes.

Even so... Batman made it clear the Joker meant nothing to him. Had discarded him like he was nothing more than any other of the villain scrap he dealt with in Gotham. This was payback, Joker reminded himself. A slow, slow game of payback, with a payoff that would make all of this effort worth it.

Besides, it was so thrilling to see the Bat in this way. So domestic.

This was a side of him Joker had never gotten to see up close, hadn't even dreamed of seeing. The way he sat so calmly, eyes on Joker like he was the only person in the restaurant, eyes on him like he mattered. And his fingers around the wine glass, the way he tipped his head back to drink. Or how his lashes fluttered when something tasted well.

Joker had only never known that body in action. Had only ever known those hands bruised and bloody, or wrapped around his throat.

His breath hitched.

He'd always wanted to know what else those hands could do.

"Speaking of surprises," said Damien, and Joker's eyes followed the path of his hand as it smoothed down the front of his suit, "how did you even get into the gala? My friend and I made the guest lists, and you weren't on there." He added, "Don't get me wrong. You made my night."

William smiled, pulling himself from his train of thought.

"Filled in for a friend," he said casually, having expected the question. He hadn't come up with a good enough answer; only had a way to go around it.

"What was their name?" asked Damien, tilting his head innocently. But in those eyes, William could see something more stern.

Playing detective on me already, thought Joker, leaning an elbow against the table. Damien's eyes burned into him as he examined his face, the way Will reached for his wine glass and sipped.

"He would prefer to remain anonymous," said Will, raising a challenging brow. He smirked to ease the subtle tension between them. "I'm sure you'd understand that."

Damien hummed, eyeing him for a moment, before returning the smile and relaxing in his seat. "I do," he said. "All those prying eyes... Well, I'm glad he trusted you enough to keep it quiet. It certainly wouldn't have stopped any questions about his absence."

The food arrived, and the waiter topped off their glasses of wine for them. Will took a bite of his pasta and groaned at the taste, savoring every bit of it. "Wow," he said, trying not to speak with his mouth full. He wasn't used to genuine meals—had always been so hellbent on toying with Batman that he forgot sometimes to eat or resorted to convenient junk.

Damien gave him an amused smile. Will realized how silly he might've looked. And then Joker decided William loved food—appreciated it like each bite was heaven. Right now, it felt like it. There was no acting there.

"I don't see how you do it," said Will, taking another bite. Damien cut into a steak, his movements much more refined than his own. "The press, I mean. Having to explain everything..."

            Damien couldn't help but give a bitter laugh, not towards Will, but at the mere thought of the press. "Tell me about it," he said. "They are... a handful."

            He glanced aside, catching a few prying eyes that followed him even now.

            "You realize how bad anyone is when they're put under a microscope," said Damien. "It's a blessing I've been able to stay out of the light in the way I do now."

            He ate a bite of steak, and Will tried not to watch too closely. Joker didn't think he'd even seen the Bat eat.

            "How do you do it?" Will asked. "Obviously there's a few around," he added, waving his fork towards the dinner guests who watched too closely, whose hands darted to their phones to type, "but other than the galas and the occasional outings... you're able to keep a private life."

            Damien laughed, and Will savored the sound. "Well for one, I've got a manor big enough to keep me entertained for months at a time." He took a sip of wine, glanced around the restaurant. "The thing is, you have to sacrifice a few things to keep out of the media's eyes. It's worth it for the months of quiet between the chaos."

            "I'm guessing you just do businessy stuff then anyway," said Will with amusement. A testing statement.

            "I've got hobbies," said Damien.

            "What do you do?"

            Damien's eyes glinted, and he smiled to himself. William didn't let it go unnoticed.

            "Depends on the day," he said simply.

            Will made an amused noise, savoring another mouthful of pasta. Damien made it obvious there was something to hide, but to any normal person, they would've found his evasiveness charming. Would have pried a bit more, wanting to know what he did, and Damien most likely would've given a basic answer, some real hobby that people would think his public persona did.

A comfortable silence fell between them as they ate. And as they did, Will pondered what Damien really did do when he wasn't roaming around as the Bat. He had to maintain his assets, of course, do some busywork... but now that Joker had been off the streets for three months now, Gotham was quieter than usual—even if it was still full of lowlife criminals. For the Bat, there was a whole lot of doing nothing.

And William didn't know if he was comfortable enough in the silence with Damien, or if he was still lost in thought to really care, but he asked, "Does it get lonely?"

"Hm?" said Damien, lowering his wine glass.

"The hiding, the... sacrifices you make to avoid the press," said Will. "Does it ever get lonely?"

And there, deep in Damien's eyes, Will knew he had struck a chord. It wasn't the kind that gave him satisfaction or made the billionaire squirm, but the kind that William felt in himself, deep in his core.

"Ah," said Damien, lowering his eyes a fraction. William wondered if maybe he'd made a mistake in asking such a question on the first date, and he waved a hand, catching Damien's eyes.

"My bad," he said, laughing it off. "I was just... thinking, y'know. You don't have to answer that."

Damien smiled, admiration glittering in his eyes. "No, it's okay. You just... surprised me." His smile widened. "As usual."

William chuckled and scratched the back of his neck.

"It does," said Damien honestly, and Will stilled, his attention wholly on the man before him. "But that's something expected from a position like mine. People expect you to be happy drowning in women and wealth, but they don't realize the hole it leaves behind." He went quiet for a moment, mulling over the words, and continued, his eyes elsewhere.

"The media makes it hard to get close to anyone," he admitted. "Even an outing like this..." He motioned a hand, and now Will could pinpoint more than a few eager eyes in the restaurant peering at them. "This one dinner, with just you and me," said Damien, meeting Will's eyes. "With how I've set myself up to the public, people will be talking like crazy for the next few days. Maybe even weeks." His eyes narrowed. "The gossip they give, the rumors they spin... even when you know none of it's true, it still gets to you. And when you're with someone else, it gets to them, too."

Will hadn't thought about that at all. About what that might mean for his alias.

About what that meant for Damien.

Guilt flashed across Damien's features. "I'm sorry," he said, and for once, he struggled to laugh it off. "I forgot to warn you about that. I should've told you, but I... it left my mind. William, if this is too much—"

"Darling, do you see me?" Will announced overdramatically, acting all posh. Damien blinked, his lips parting. "The moment they put this dashing face out there," he said with a flair of his hands, "they'll forget aallll about you. Don't you worry yourself so much."

Damien exhaled with amusement, raising a brow. But the tension eased from his shoulders, and Will knew his silly outburst had helped.

"I'm just messing with you, sweetheart," said Will, tapping the man's arm from across the table. "I'll be fine."

Damien blew out a comic sigh. "Leave it to the press to keep you boxed in, right?"

He flashed that charming smile, the kind meant for the public, and William returned the gesture. He knew it was a way to hide what he really felt deep down. The loneliness that gnawed into the core, unable to be filled with anything material in this world.

Joker supposed he'd never considered that side of Batman. The man that lived behind the mask who was just as human as any of them, going about their day-to-day. He'd always been so focused on getting the Bat's attention, on getting what he wanted. He'd never thought about what Batman wanted.

And then, he supposed, he'd already given it to him.

A Gotham without the Joker. Or better put, a lunatic freak that not even the man who dressed like a bat could think of loving.

"Right," said Will, his smile faltering. "I didn't mean to discredit what you were saying, but... I get it. Not so much the media, but—what it can do to you. You've got a lot to deal with those imbeciles around."

Damien hummed, nodding once. His posture shifted, eyes searching the other man's face.

"What about you?" he asked, changing the topic. "What do you do, Will?"

Think of you, mostly, thought William, calling back on countless nights spent dreaming of him, scheming against him. But when he made alias, he decided he would be a journalist because he always had something to say. But now, after talking about how damaging the press was and seeing how uncomfortable it made Damien feel... Especially now that they've gotten closer...

            Shiiit.

            "It's... nothing really," said Will, gathering pasta on his fork. Buying himself some time to think. He thought of something average like a manager, but then he thought what store, and when he thought of a jeweler, he thought what store and—

            Will's eyes flicked up. Glanced down at the cut on Damien's lip that he'd refused to acknowledge since they met up at the manor.

            And he knew the Bat had gotten it in a fight. Was probably covered in more of those cuts on the body that Joker had never actually seen beneath that suit. William knew he was zoning out—felt his skin heat when Damien licked his lips when he noticed his gaze... and then William thought of tending to Damien's wounds after a fight, cleaning him free of blood and wrapping his wounds with gauze.

            William lifted his gaze, finding Damien blushing in the slightest. Ah... how long was he staring at his lips?

            "I'm a doctor," he said with a smile. He made a mental note of the new role, of cursing himself for a new hole he'd dug for himself. He had no knowledge of the medical field other than sloppily taping up his own wounds and saying fuck it to over-the-counter medication or the nonsense Murdock spouted about psychological disorders that he'd constantly ignore.

            Of course, Damien rose his brows with interest. "Really? What do you practice?"

            "Toxicology," said William, because what he did know was chemicals. "But ah, other than that..." He trailed off, spinning a lie off the top of his head. "My clients are the exclusive kind. You won't find me anywhere," he added with a chuckle. "Forgive me if I have to maintain some secrecy of my own."

            "Don't tell me you have an underground drug ring going on," teased Damien.

            "If I did, wouldn't a billionaire like you want some for himself?" William chuckled. "Kidding. But if you really do need something... call me. Maybe I can help."

            William had nothing at his lair that would actually resemble anything a doctor would use, but it felt right to say it in the moment.

            Damien smiled. "I'll remember that."

            The waiter took their dishes, and Damien passed on another glass of wine. William gladly took another, needing a source of distraction if he had to come up with any other answers.

            "After this," said Damien, "want to continue our date elsewhere?"

            William's heart raced at the question. "Where were you thinking?"

            "We could go back to my place, watch a movie or..." Damien's eyes slid up to his, and the gaze made Will swallow. "You could stay the night. If you'd like."

            His mind screamed at him to say yes without question. A night with Damien, his Bat, and to think of all the possibilities—

            He kept himself from getting carried away.

            But it could also be an opportunity to find any tangible evidence of the man's secret identity.

            William's face heated. "As... lovely as that sounds, I—" He came up with the stupidest excuse. "Don't have a change of clothes."

            Idiot!

            His face burst with heat when he heard himself say the words aloud, and Damien laughed, admiration in his features.

"Are you sure that's all you're worried about?" he crooned.

            William's face and ears were so hot that he knew Damien could see how flustered he was. He didn't know what to do with this emotion. Wanted to punch something or resort back to insulting the Bat just to make himself feel better. But this was William, and he had to take it, had to grumble it off like the embarrassed heap he was.

            "It's just—" William could not handle those eyes on him. He hid his face with his wine glass, really wishing the alcohol could affect him right now. Damien's answering laugh was only fuel to the flame.

            When William lowered his glass, hoping his flustered state had calmed, Damien rested a hand between the table.

            "If you don't want to, you don't have to," said Damien gently. His smile made William relax. "It was only a suggestion. Is there anywhere you'd like to go?"

            William wearily met Damien's eyes. He didn't know how many other opportunities he'd have to spend the night at the man's manor. But he didn't want to rush into it without feeling prepared, either.

            He glanced out the window, meeting the darkness of the sky through slivers of the skyscrapers surrounding them.

            "Well... I wouldn't mind going to the park," he said quietly. "Just to sit."

            He glanced back at Damien, and there was a fond smile on his face that made a jolt race up his spine. No one had ever looked at him like that. Especially not the Bat.

            "Of course," said Damien. "Though we won't be seeing any stars in Gotham."

            "I know," said William with a smile. "But I'll have you there."

            Damien blushed, and to ease the heaviness of the words he'd just said, William winked at him.

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Thank you so much for reading! I've got more fun things planned in the next chapter, hehe...

Head on over to @sheeraayame on Instagram for more "Hoax" and Markiplier content ;P

Have a wonderful day/night!

Love, Vic xoxo