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The Perfect Fit

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Another quiet day at your tailor shop. You leaned forward at your desk, chin propped up thoughtfully in your hand as you gazed at the mannequins at the front of the shop, daydreaming. Some days it was quiet and peaceful like this, other days you had several fitting appointments-- and mobsters that tried to raise a fuss and claim your establishment as theirs. Territory wars. You almost felt sorry for the ones that tried to hurt you or seize your shop, as they were swiftly dealt with by the Joker’s men. It was his territory after all. He owned the place.

You had one booking scheduled for today, in the evening. Not typical hours for an ordinary tailor, but you were no such thing. The Joker preferred to operate at late hours, something about increasing his odds of running into the infamous Batman. That appointment wouldn’t be until a few hours though, so you had settled for managing the shop in the meantime. That is, up until you ran out of tasks, leaving you with some free time.

You straightened the lapels on a mannequin, thinking back to the handful of fitting sessions you’ve had with the Joker. He always seemed to eye you with intrigue as you measured him, engaging you in surprisingly friendly chit-chat, but with his own sharp wit and clever, whimsical jokes thrown in. He piqued your interest as well. No, it would be better to describe it as more of a fascination. One man, able to so easily bring a sprawling city like Gotham to its knees. You found it wildly attractive. In fact…

It turned you on.

You shook your head to clear your thoughts and continued adjusting the suit on the mannequin. You preferred to keep your relationship with the Joker professional, if only because you had no idea how he treats his lovers. And what if he considered you disposable after he’s had his fill of you? You were still the most skilled bespoke tailor in Gotham, but you wanted to keep your air of dignity around the man. And so, you kept your feelings, your desire, in check. Your little secret.

You sigh, twiddling at the button on the tweed jacket.

“Deep in thought?” came the raspy voice beside you.

You yelped and nearly knocked the mannequin over, spinning around to see none other than the Joker himself grinning at your reaction. Your fright got a laugh out of him-- he slaps his leg as he cackles with mirth.

“M-Mister Joker.... Sir.... you’re here early.” you stammered shyly, catching your breath.

“I wanted to see my kitten, is all.” he explains with open arms. His faces droops into a cute pout.

“What, are you not happy to see me?”

His play at a sulky demeanor gets a giggle out of you. “I’m pleased to see you sir, but you nearly scared me out of my wits just now!”

“Well, if you faint next time, I'll be sure to catch ya, doll.” he winks.

You blush and clear your throat, a little flustered. “Ahem..... mmm.... heheh.... er......”

“R-Right. Your fitting appointment. Shall we proceed?”

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

 

You lead him into the fitting room at the back of the shop, where you two had gone before a handful of times for previous fitting sessions. He sets down a duffel bag on the coffee table and shrugs off his coat. The classy music playing out at the storefront sounds fainter in this room, almost inaudible. A more private area, away from prying eyes. Joker checks himself in the three-panel body mirror as you pull the measuring tape from where it hung around your shoulders. You notice he hadn’t bothered to remove his jacket and you looked up at him with a raised brow. He returns your look with an expectant one.

...Right then. You start to unbutton the jacket, sliding it off his shoulders while he watches you with an unreadable expression. Conscious of his gaze, your heartbeat quickens slightly as you drape the garment over a nearby chair.

Stepping behind him, you draw the measuring tape from one end of his shoulder to the other, your fingers barely brushing them. 44 centimeters. Broad. Masculine.

A fine set of shoulders.

Clearing your throat, you nearly forget to jot down the measurement into your notepad. Joker seems to notice your falter, a hint of a smirk tugging at his painted lip. Moving in front of him now, you gesture to his arms. “If you will, sir.”

He raises them slightly, giving you access to slip the measuring tape around his chest. Your movements are slow and careful, wanting to savor this session with him for as much as you can. Up close, you can feel the warmth emanating from his body. You dare to drag your knuckles more boldly across the front of his chest, pretending it was unintentional. His brows raises slightly, inquisitively, but he says nothing. Merely watches. You gulp. 102cm. You look up to see him gazing back down at you with a glint of amusement in his eyes.

It occurred to you that you’re probably the only person who touches him so intimately like this.

“...Specifications, sir?” you inquire, raising your notepad, pen ready. For a moment, your hand trembles ever so slightly before you grip the pen tighter, still trying to appear composed.

“Make it a suit for a social occasion. Evening. Italian style, three buttons, tapered trousers. Silk lining.”

“...And the vest pattern?”

Joker tilts his head, thinking for a moment before shooting you an easy smile. “Surprise me.”

You smile up at him, ever so fond of his whimsical nature.

“At your command, boss.”

“And as always, don’t worry about delivery. I’ll come personally to pick it up myself as soon as it’s finished. That fine with you, doll?”

“Of course, sir.”