In a tone that suggested he knew exactly what was coming, John replied with a soft “Hmm?”
Well, perhaps not exactly what was coming (Joker even knowing that name was enough to give him heart palpitations), but he knew where it was going to lead.
“No one you need to worry about.” John turned the page of his newspaper before finally glancing up at Joker. “And the answer’s still no.”
“Answer to what?” Joker asked with an innocence that, had he not spent the past two fucking days nagging about one particular topic constantly, might’ve passed for sincere. Without even looking, John could picture the sort of smile that’d be resting on Joker’s lips.
He also knew better than to play into it but, when Joker was in a mood like this - annoying in a strangely endearing sort of way - it was hard to resist. “You know what. And it doesn’t matter how many times or roundabout ways you find of asking, that answer ain’t changing.”
Joker didn’t respond but John knew this was far from the end of it. He’d quickly learnt that when Joker had his heart set on something, it was difficult to divert his attention. Unless, of course, you offered something even better but, in this case, what Joker wanted was hard to beat.
And, sure enough, after only a minute, Joker draped himself across the table in a typically dramatic fashion, completely blocking John’s view of his newspaper.
“But John ,” Joker stretched the name out with a whine, hand coming up to flick John’s earlobe. “I only want a little one, nothing fancy, just a loyal little beastie to do my bidding. We’d be like a badass Turner and Hooch. It doesn’t even have to be a dangerous one.”
Smacking the hand away from his ear - but not complaining when it then slid into his hair - John said, “There’s no such thing as an un-dangerous demon - the clue’s in the name. And you’re enough of a menace as it is, the last thing Gotham needs is me giving a pet demon to its most notorious serial killer.”
He looked down at Joker and quirked an eyebrow. “Even my morality ain’t that loose.”
Joker twirled the hair at the nape of John’s neck between his fingers. “Y’know, what some people call serial killing I merely call pest control.”
“Call it what you want, love, it ain’t happening. Not now, not ever.”
Joker’s fingers stilled and he gazed at John with a wide-eyed puppy dog expression. Which John met with nothing more than a smirk.
John shook his head.
“Pretty, pretty please?”
Another shake of John’s head as his smirk grew bigger.
The puppy dog expression vanished with a huff as Joker sat himself up. “Meanie.”
“Yep,” John agreed, eyes returning to the newspaper that was once again visible. “Grade A asshole, me. Thought you’da learnt that by now.”
Joker huffed a second time, crossing his legs and another silence fell between them, which lasted much longer than last time. John made a valiant effort to ignore him but, even completely still, the clown was very distracting and when John finally looked up to see Joker immediately turn his eyes away, another grin spread across his face. For such a terrifying personality, Joker certainly knew how to be adorable when he wanted. There was always a risk that he could turn nasty but John was prepared for that - only a cretin would jump into bed with the clown otherwise. And given some of the fuck ugly things John dealt with on a regular basis, the Joker wasn’t really all that bad. Well, not all the time, anyway. Even compared to demons, Joker still had his moments.
With a sigh, John leaned back in his seat. “Babe, stop pouting. What’cha want a pet demon for, anyway? You could terrify an entire stadium of people with nothing but a plastic spoon.”
Joker, gaze still fixed towards the heavens, snorted softly and John chuckled.
“What about a Rottie?”
Joker frowned, eyes returning to John. “A what?”
“A Rottie. Y’know, Rottweiler. Nasty buggers if you train them right - or wrong, as the case may be. That’s what most people get when they wanna look hard.”
With a haughty tone, Joker narrowed his eyes and leaned closer. “Most people are morons. And if I wanted to “look hard”-” Joker combined air quotes with a look of disgust. “I’d hit the steroids and get a buncha shitty tattoos. Maybe put one right here.”
Joker pressed a finger to his forehead and, although he still sounded disappointed, it seemed to be waning. Hopefully the novelty of the idea was beginning to wear off.
“Nothing wrong with tattoos, mate,” John said defensively, hands coming to rest on Joker’s thighs.
“Wasn’t talking about yours,” Joker countered, uncrossing his legs to dangle them off the edge of the table. John’s hands travelled a little higher. “I like those.”
Joker reached for John’s tie and started to loosen it.
“Except for the one across your chest, maybe. Makes you look like one of those football louts you’ve told me so much about.”
It was John’s turn to frown. “Watch it, that’s my team you’re talking about! Besides, I thought the loutishness was part of my appeal.”
“Sometimes.” Joker hung John’s tie loosely around his own neck before starting on the buttons of John’s shirt, opening each one slowly to reveal said tattoo. “But right now you’re being a goody two shoes and it’s cramping your style.”
Sliding his hands round to Joker’s backside, John gave it a hard squeeze, earning a little squeal from Joker, before pulling him forwards into his lap. Joker’s hands found their way inside John’s shirt, nails moving slowly down his back to cause a shiver.
“Trust me when I say that not even you wanna deal with hell spawn.”
“I might,” Joker tried, hands returning to the front of John’s shirt to open the last few buttons.
“Well, if you’re lucky maybe I’ll take you on a job,” John offered, gripping Joker’s waist to pull him even closer, teeth tugging his earlobe before trailing kisses down his neck. Joker leaned into them, one hand again sliding into John’s hair as the other pushed John’s shirt off his shoulder.
”I’ll hold you to that,” Joker said, gasping softly when John bit his neck.
Running his tongue from throat to chin, John said, “I’m sure you will,” before swallowing Joker’s giggle with a kiss.
Bent over the table, covered in nothing but their own sweat, John listened to Joker moan and gasp his way through his orgasm, teeth sinking into Joker’s neck as he soon did the same.
But any hopes John had of helping Joker forget all about pet demons disappeared halfway through dressing.
“What about for a day?” Joker asked, making it clear he knew John was watching him with a cheeky wiggle of his ass. “Or a couple of hours? Surely that can’t hurt.”
“Let it go, Jay, for fuck’s sake,” John laughed, leaning against the table. “I’m not summoning you a pet demon. End of.”
This time Joker’s pout lacked conviction as he positioned himself between John’s legs and wrapped his arms around John’s neck.
“Still a meanie, even after I made you come twice.”
“Believe I returned that favour, love.”
He was given a grin and a long, lazy kiss before Joker finally pushed away to tuck his shirt into his pants. After fixing his makeup and hair, Joker shrugged on his jacket and started walking backwards towards the door.
“Well, on that note, I believe it’s time I saw a man about a bat. It’s been a few days, he’s sure to be missing me. And I want him to get a good look at my new hickie.”
With a wide grin Joker pulled back the left side of his collar to expose the large red bite mark. Which was when John spotted the tie hanging loosely around Joker’s neck.
“Oi, that’s mine!”
“It's a memento,” Joker declared, tightening the tie. “Of my Geordie sweetheart.”
“It’s Scouser not Geordie,” John corrected.
Joker shrugged. “Whatever, it’s mine.”
John didn’t argue. There wasn’t any point. And he had plenty more ties where that came from.
“You two play nice, now,” he called as Joker opened the door.
“Where’d be the fun in that?” Joker replied, blowing John a kiss with a loud mwah before stepping outside and swinging the door shut behind him.
John chuckled to himself as he began hunting for the pack of cigarettes that’d been knocked off the table during their romp, finding them beside the demonology book Joker had been pouring through earlier - the reason behind his sudden need for a hellish companion. It was probably best to keep that , and anything else that might lead a homicidal clown to terrifying flights of fancy, well hidden for Joker’s next visit.
Whenever the hell that might be.