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Ooh.

Success.

He lets himself heal; with Nathan's teeth in him this deep even his overactive healing power isn't going to force them out again by itself, and it means he doesn't have to worry about blood loss.

Nathan was talking like he could do this forever. The Joker wonders if that's true.
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He can't literally do it forever. He's only got so much room. But he keeps drinking for many minutes, until unregenerating prey would have been exsanguinated a dozen times over, until it hurts to swallow more and then some, until even hyperefficient vampire metabolism can process nothing more and is reduced to storage, distending his stomach.

Finally he is as sated as he physically can be, and he's just licking venom into the wounds, making small sounds in the back of his throat. When he looks up, his eyes are brilliantly burgundy.

"You're a marvel," he gasps, having neglected to play at breathing throughout his meal.
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"Love you too, baby," he says, snuggling up.

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"God. I love you." Hugs, crushing hugs, he cannot contain all the emotions at this moment.

"Did my eyes go?" he murmurs after a moment. "I bet they did. Better phone Maggie, let her know it's nothing to worry about before Alice eye-checks me and thinks I've been devouring the population of Florida."
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"It's a gorgeous colour," he says, and leans up to kiss Nathan's forehead. "I should make you a shirt that colour."

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"I'd wear it," Nathan says, rubbing his aching stomach absently, and then he pulls out his cellphone from the pocket of his abandoned pants and dials the lie detector.

"Hallo, Maggie!" he says. "Calling to say that I have not killed anyone, my eyes are red for entirely innocuous reasons and Alice should not advise Her Majesty to have me punished upon seeing them. Well now, must you know? All right. I've gone and gotten mated, if you hadn't heard, and - yes, thank you - and he's got a bit of offworld magic, and if he likes being bit and he's fine afterwards, I ask you, have I any reason to complain? I have not. That is the story. Say hi to your lovely wife and daughter for me, will you? Bye, Maggie."
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The Joker giggles softly, waits for Nathan to hang up, and then kisses him.

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"Did I give you a tummyache?" he inquires between kisses.

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"Worth it," Nathan asserts.

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"Mmm. Good."

Although he does take a moment to kiss said tummy, bestowing on it the entirely imaginary restorative powers of his affection.
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Awww.




They hang out in the hotel room for a few days, fixing Nathan's eyes to be less conspicuous before leaving, and then they wander Jacksonville looking at tourist attractions and occasionally making out fiercely on street corners, and they begin walking north. They have all the time in the world. Why hurry?
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The Joker is in loooooove.

He likes being in love this way. It's nice. Not as intense in some ways as being in love with the Bat, but in a lot of ways more fun. And Nathan is gorgeous and funny and immensely lovable.

Just for the hell of it, a few days out of Jacksonville, he magics himself vampire levels of durability and waits for Nathan to notice. Shouldn't be long.
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It is indeed not long. "Not so fragile today, babe?" Nathan asks half a second after hauling his mate into their motel room en route to New York, squeezing his hand. "Don't feel like getting broke?"

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"Thought I'd try it out," he says, squeezing back. "See what it's like when I'm less squishable."

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"Well," says Nathan, "I guess it's like this," and they proceed to have unusually painless nookie.

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"That was nice," the Joker concludes, cuddling up to him afterward. "I wouldn't want it like that every time, but it was nice."

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"Whatever you like, babe," says Nathan comfortably.

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Snuggle.

"I love you."
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"I love you more."

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He shakes his head and laughs.

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"Well, it's true. I don't mind, though," says Nathan, (nuzzle nuzzle), "long as you do love me back."

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"How do you know?" he says. "And why do you want to? Where's this comparison coming from?"

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Nathan considers this. "Have you been magicking your brain without telling me?" he asks. "'Cause if you haven't - pretty much a consensus for anyone who's been in love before and after turning, human brains couldn't hold a mate bond even if they had nothing else in 'em. Marcus says it too, he sees -" vague gesture - "relationships, he's thousands of years old, lots of chances to make observations."

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"So," he translates, amused, "I can't love you that much 'cause I'm too stupid?"

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