Joker is running across rooftops, soaring across the gaps, laughing at the footsteps pounding away behind him. The lights of Gotham spread out below him, flashing past as he bounds away from his pursuer. The sounds of sirens make a fine counterpoint to the chase going on above. This particular chase has lasted for about an hour, just long enough to get Batman's juices really flowing. Joker huffs out a laugh at the thought and slows down, just the tiniest bit.
The footsteps close the gap. The small hairs on the back of Joker's neck prickle, a warning of impending danger. His giggles burst out, detonated by the fingertips he feels brushing the back of his coat. He yanks himself to the side, unwilling to give up quite so easily, but the second attempt is more successful and a hand snags fabric. He is brought down to the concrete, hard.

Joker rolls, attempts to twist away, but he's not really trying to dislodge the hard muscled body pinning him down. He gives up after only a feeble attempt and waits, rapt with anticipation. Batman is panting, his entire weight grinding down into Joker's lean figure as his breath rasps near Joker's ear. And in between, he is already talking.

"You…bastard," he pants, "You fucking tease… making me…chase you around like this." He shifts, pressing a leg in between Joker's splayed thighs. "Don't pretend… you don't want this."

There are a lot of things that Joker has learned about Batman since their um, relationship began. One of the most amusing is this: Batman is usually humorless and rather grim. He doesn't say much, content to let Joker do most of the talking, which suits Joker just fine.

But in bed (or rooftops, or alleyways, or wherever the urge takes them both,) Bats gets downright talkative.

Good thing Joker's such a good listener.

"Fuck, look at you," Bats breaths into Joker's ear. "Do you like knowing that I could come out of anywhere, at any time, and do this-" He snakes a hand down and cups Joker's erection. "God, you're already hard for me and I've hardly touched you."

Thing is, Joker doesn't even think he knows he's doing it. The things he says would make poor Brucie blush and would make Batman rage. Joker's spectacularly good at provoking that rage, but in this one instance he is unwilling to do so. It's more fun to let this…tendency…of Batman's play out.

Batman shifts his body, putting some space between them. His lips brush against the soft skin of Joker's neck, just under the line of white greasepaint as his hand parts fabric and touches Joker's bare skin. Joker shivers, not even trying to hold back his moan as the supple leather of Batman's glove finds his cock. Batman shifts his weight even further, pulling back so he can watch the motion of his hand as he slides it slowly down the length of the madman's erection.

"Fuck, you're so close already," he rumbles. His voice is transformed, low and lustful and so utterly unlike his everyday growl. The change ratchets Joker's desire up another notch. He moans again, pushing his hips forward into Batman's tight fist.

"You're always so close." It's true; Joker's cock is already leaking and pulsing, begging for Batman's touch. Joker looks down his body and watches Batman's gloved hand work him, eyes flicking between that and Batman's flushed face. Batman's voice drops even further and he leans in, growling, "You're a total slut for me."
He doesn't really want Joker to respond and so he doesn't. It's enough, with just Batman's hand on him and that voice whispering filth in his ear. He arches up, wanting more and the hand moves just a little faster. A few more seconds and this is all going to be over.

Joker opens his eyes wide, wanting to watch the moment when it happens. He looks up into Batman's cowled face and can see it all written in his eyes- the turning-point, the very moment when this little tendency of his tips over into more truth than either of them can handle.

"Joker," Batman grinds out. "Jesus, you're- " And Joker reaches up, pulling Batman's face down and quickly stealing the words from his lips. The hand on his cock stutters, then regains its rhythm and Joker is moaning into a messy kiss, his mind flying apart as he goes over the edge into orgasm.

Afterward, Joker lolls in blissful silence, the figure over him working his own erection quickly, his wet breath fanning against Joker's neck until he grunts out his own completion. The thoughts return to Joker's head one by one and his brain, never silent for long, comes back online. Batman is still crouched above him, allowing his head to rest against Joker's shoulder as he recovers, but Joker won't wait for that. He knows what comes then—guilt, recrimination, denial—the endless cycle of self-denial and self-hatred that Bruce has imposed on himself. It was amusing in the beginning, but now it just exhausts Joker. He can't be bothered to indulge his darling's masochism tonight.

Joker spares a moment to wonder what Batman was about to say; what revelation would have shaken them both if he'd just allowed it to happen. iNext time, he lies to himself. This weakness of Bruce's is too good to jeopardize, even for a little truth. So, Joker slithers out from under Batman and stands, righting his clothes. He spares a glance for the unmoving, taciturn figure behind him. We've both gained too much to risk it, Joker thinks. He refuses to dwell on what that means; the Joker, being afraid to lose something. Instead he runs his hands down over his coat and slips into the night.

Notes:

Ummm, so I guess I'm writing B/J again? What even is happening to me?