Author's Note: I was tired last night and different variations of this have been bouncing around in my head for the past few nights while I was trying to fall asleep, so this plot bunny had better be happy.

They were in Jonathan's office - at Arkham Asylum, naturally - curled up together in the chair behind his desk, their lips locked, tongues exploring each other's mouths as they so often loved to do. The summer night was hot and humid, forcing the two lovers to once again wear nothing more than their usual boxer shorts (and an old ratty wife-beater in the clown's case).

His legs wrapped around his partner's tight abdomen, Jonathan did not try to suppress his moan of lust and longing at the excitable feeling of Joker's erection pressing up against him into a place somewhere between his own eager dick and his anus.

If only that damned cloth wasn't there. . .

The clown must have been thinking along the same lines - for in an instant they were lying in each other's arms on the floor, Crane's boxers down around his ankles. Joker as was frequent was kneeling between Jonathan's legs, cock out and throbbing - and was already panting and whining and wriggling against him in anticipation like some sort of sick horny dog.

Eyes glinting hungrily, Joker suddenly became still, leaning down even closer to his mate. "You want me, bitch?"

Jonathan closed his eyes - planning to keep them that way - licked his own suddenly dry lips, and nodded. He felt like a whore - and tonight he loved it.

Joker giggled - "Who wouldn't?" - and entered his lover.

Jonathan gasped, already flushed and sweating - the clown was deeper than normal and the advanced hard penetration was more than slightly uncomfortable in its position in Crane's soft fragile body.

Yet the doctor inexplicably wanted him to go farther inside.

"M-more! P-please!"

Joker leered. "You wanna fuck? Hunh, my dirty little slut? You wanna FUCK?! Yyyyyeah," he growled, grinning and rubbing the tips of their noses together as Jonathan, eyes still squeezed tightly shut, whimpered and nodded eagerly.

The clown huffed with pleasure as he began his thrusts, listening to his partner mewling and crying.

The intercourse hurt Jonathan, and it almost never had before -

And the strangest thing was that he was actually enjoying the pain.

If he had had his senses about him at the moment, Jonathan would have shaken his head at himself in desperate denial.

He wasn't a masochist.

Or was he?

Gods, this was sick.

Yet it was the best part of their relationship.

They orgasmed in hot sweet bliss, gulping in each other's breath, Jonathan's eyes now wide open - weak recessive blue staring up into strong dominant brown.

"JOKER!" he screamed.

And all too soon it was over, the clown extracting himself with a final moan, grinning triumphantly as he put his member away and his trembling lover returned his smile.

The way Jonathan played with fire by allowing himself to be the Joker's play toy was a risk most would not even consider taking -

But, hey - some like it hot.

THE END

Whaddya think? I don't get too repetitive, do I?