Love did crazy things to the mind. Love forced any other thoughts onto the backburner. It made the worst ideas seem plausible, and, given enough freedom, love could also take all logic and common sense and throw them out the window. At least, that was the flowery excuse that Joker kept repeating to himself as he stared at his reflection in the mirror.
He wore a hideously ugly electric yellow sweater that clashed miserably with his purple slacks. Now, Joker was all for bright colors, but there was a point where what you wore began to overpower the rest of your senses. This sweater was at that point. The stuffed reindeer that was stitched to the sweater was a nice touch, though.
Joker gathered together what remained of his courage and exited the changing room. He held out his arms so that his boyfriend, Bruce Wayne (ha, and his mother said he's never find a good lover!) could see his outfit in all of its garish glory. His shopping buddy grinned widely, showing off that megawatt smile that nearly earned him the title of “Gotham City's Prince” all on its own. “I knew yellow was your color.” The clown scoffed as he lowered his arms, putting his hands on his hips.
“And what about green and purple?” the clown asked, his voice nearly monotone as he focused more effort into getting the sweater to drape itself across his body in a more flattering way.
The playboy chuckled, holding his hands up as if in surrender. “Fine, fine, you win this round,” he confessed dramatically.
Joker grinned back at the other man. “Whelp, we can't forget about getting you a fucking awful Christmas sweater!” The playboy blanched, and the clown made sure to take a picture of the other man's expression so that he could torment Bruce about it later.