It didn't take very long for any semblance of thought to derail, first reluctantly but really, what control did he ever have? That was the thing about chaos, wasn't it, that it was unbiased and fair and Harvey, as much as he resisted, was a part of it now. He lost their game tonight and many times before.

His head fell back- how the hell did he do that without flinching?- thankfully and disturbingly unable to think of Rachel at all, with the god damned mad man's name on what remained of his lips. He had never felt such a pure hate before. It was exhilarating.

When the Joker spoke he had to blink to process, something of a cracked smile falling on his lips. Here they were, Gotham's terror and it's ghost, bickering over a fucking blow job. The laugh in his throat was swallowed by a moan when the clown continued, this time uncontrolled. He was close and that irritating drawl in the back of his head kept laughing and pressing to give him a show.

"You're- you're quiet. That's productive enough." He muttered wryly and bitterly, breath hitching.