Author's Note: I've always wanted to do a scene of Jonathan bathing - call me a pervert, but there you are. This could possibly be considered a "sequel" to "Newfound Desires" - although I think you can read it on its own without having any storyline problems (if there do happen to be any that I missed, as always, please let me know). Pathos means the "power of exciting tender emotions," according to my Webster dick-shunary. (Intentional spelling mistake - there are so many words the damn reference book doesn't have in there!) There is of course sex in this story, and it is graphic - well, as graphic as I can make it without personal experience, anyway. You've been warned. Enjoy!
Jonathan sighed as the pleasantly hot water of his shower mixed with the white suds of his shampoo and slowly flowed down over his thin body - down over the somewhat protrudent collarbones, the leanly-muscled chest, the just-visible ribs, the smooth flat stomach, and down the sharp inner curves of his pelvis, where the creamy liquid soap dripped tantalizingly from his shaved groin in a fashion similar to his own natural masculine ejaculations - some of which would hopefully occur later tonight. (He had always shaved his crotch, even when he had just started to grow hair there; he had never really been able to stand having hair anywhere on his skinny frame except that on his head - not even a moustache, much less even a hint of a beard, would be tolerated.)
He lathered a washcloth with soap and ran it slowly over himself, wrapping it around his cock and tugging gently in experimentation. But his body was not to be fooled; ever since a certain clown had activated the sexual - and sometimes romantic - desires between them, the psychopath had been the only thing that would harden him - Jonathan couldn't even masturbate properly anymore unless the clown grabbed the doctor and did it for him (which they would not necessarily have any use for since they would be having actual sex then anyway.)
The Joker. The familiar thrill of intertwined fear and excitement shot up Crane's spine, his lower abdomen clenching at the thought of the name - not to mention the man who bore it. They had been together for three gloriously wonderful years - three years of terror, of love, of lust. And tonight was their ann - no, he couldn't bear to even think the word: it was far too close to the similar term of "birthday" for his peace-of-mind.
Fear of their discovery was the last thing on Jonathan's consciousness as he finished bathing, shutting off the water and turning to gaze, slightly mesmerized, at his full-front and deliciously naked body in the full length mirror beside him. (He had cracked open a window beforehand so that it nor the looking-glass on the door of the medicine cabinet above the sink would fog over.) He glistened with sweat; a single droplet of water clung to each individual eyelash, hanging precariously from the tips of each long black hair. Though his jaw was masculinely angular, his narrow face, with its high, prominent cheekbones and thin brows, was decidedly feminine; his provocative lips blushed more perfectly than the most exquisite rose. And he never ceased to wonder at his blazing eyes - those deep, infinite twin pools of cerulean ice. One could very easily be drawn in and swallowed up by those eyes.
Jonathan blinked suddenly, severely admonishing himself as he shook off those most narcissistic thoughts; he always swore that one of these days he would wander far too deeply in among the labyrinthine maze of filing cabinets comprising his mind - so deeply, in fact, that he would never be able to find his way back out again (he often wondered if this was what truly affected the insane, this becoming lost in one's own contemplations). The Joker had made it a point on several occasions to tell Jonathan he believed the doctor thought way too much - he needed to just. . .do. . .things. . .more. He needed to be more impulsive, stop considering every little move he made over and over again.
The thought of his lover brought a smile to his face as he saw - and felt - that it had caused him to finally harden. He pulled on a pair of boxer shorts - blue plaid to bring out those eyes for the special occasion - and walked out into the kitchen, not at all surprised to find the still fully-clothed Joker fiddling with the radio. The clown turned away from the device at Jonathan's approach.
"Evening, Jon-a-than." Joker licked his lips hungrily, his own erection bulging against the inside of his trousers as he ran his depthless brown eyes up over Crane's body.
Jonathan blushed under the scrutiny, closing his eyes as he and his lover wrapped their arms about each other. Joker switched the radio off - there had been nothing really good playing anyways - and carried Jonathan into the bedroom, nudging the door shut with the heel of his shoe and gently laying his feminine partner down onto the bed.
Jonathan's keen ears detected the rustle-swish-flump of clothes being stripped from a body and discarded absentmindedly on the floor; he heard the bedsprings creak as he felt the mattress dip slightly to support the clown's weight. Tickling fingers forced the doctor's lean thighs apart. It was only when the Joker began kissing his way up the inside of one of those snowy thighs that Jonathan dared to open his eyes.
Joker was gazing up at him, lustful as his breath warmed his partner's groin; Jonathan's nipples and erection hardened almost pleadingly.
"Y'know, I never did tell you how good this feels after you've just, uh, shaved," Joker said, almost conversationally - Jonathan resolved to especially maintain the presence of a smooth and sexually-appealing cock from now onward - and kissed the tip of the aforementioned organ. The physician's breath caught in his throat, anticipating -
Joker wrapped his scarred lips around the end of Jonathan's member and sucked gently. The erotic wet tugging sent waves of pleasure rippling through Jonathan as his stomach lurched. His lips parted slightly in an effort to breathe easier as he moaned softly, his head settling back against the pillows. Joker merely smirked around the erection, fingers stroking his lover's hips sensually as he sucked harder.
Jonathan became rigid, coated in sticky-sweet perspiration as his eyes widened vividly of their own accord. He now gasped freely, his long fingers inadvertently curling, ragged nails imbedding garnet crescent moons into his palms. Muted noises pulsated his throat as his hear rate dramatically sped up.
Joker teased his lover's cock with his tongue, wrapping it around the masculinity as he slid his mouth over the muscle and back to the end again, over and back, over and back, again and again, forcing the organ deeper with each thrust, careful not to bite Jonathan by accident (or on purpose). The clown's hooded eyes shut lazily with pleasure as he swallowed Crane's ejaculations. For a moment he even considered sticking his tongue inside Jonathan's member; but no - he would use his own for that, as he always did. He sucked one last time, tugging especially hard, then withdrew his mouth wetly, licking the semen from his lips.
"Mmm," he teased, scars stretching horribly as he grinned, and slid up over Jonathan, bracing himself against the mattress. Concern - well, as concerned as a psychopathic clown could be - was evident through the lacerations and makeup on his face as he saw just how much Jonathan was sweating, how deeply his slender cheeks were flushed. Those blue eyes darted from side-to-side as if they had a mind of their own.
"Are you. . .uh. . .all right?"
It was several moments before Jonathan was able to reply, his eyes still flickering. "It's. . .too hot!" he gasped.
Joker got up and opened the bedroom door about halfway, to create air flow, before kneeling readily over Crane again.
"Is that, uh, better?"
Jonathan nodded, still panting, his eyes eventually settling to gaze deep into the clown's.
"Happy anniversary," Joker wheedled, lowering his hips and gently sliding his cock inside his lover's.
A noise somewhere between a huff and a squeal wormed its way from Crane's throat and out through his trembling lips.
And Jonathan was a little white mouse locked in the great yellow eyes of a snake that was somehow filling him with gratification as it leaned closer and went in for the kill -
Joker kissed his partner, obviously making an effort to be gentle - for the doctor was made of glass, so easily shattered by rough intercourse. Boundless love blossomed within Jonathan as he kissed back; he whimpered in protest when the clown withdrew his lips.
"Ssh. . ." Joker soothed him, and slowly ran his tongue up his partner's neck and cheek, growling with pleasure. He placed his hands on Jonathan's lower back to hold him still and help the sex along as he raised and lowered himself again and again, speeding up at Jonathan's stuttering and fearful yet excited cry of "M-more! P-please, J-Joker, s-s-s-s-"
"Ssssweetheart," the clown supplied - though he was barely able to form the word himself, panting now as he was, his makeup running with sweat as a deep groaning whine of satisfaction issued from his throat. Jonathan was getting braver. . .
The friction was intoxicating, sweeping the lovers up in its merciless arms as it drove both men to their climaxes, their lips shivering as they breathed each other's breath -
And then it was over, their animalistic desires quenched (for now, anyway) as Joker withdrew himself and rolled off, wrapping his arms lovingly around a trembling Jonathan.
Click-click went the licking tongue. "Oh, my poor, fragile little slut," Joker murmured pityingly, and kissed Jonathan's cheek, and sighed. "That really is too much for you, isn't it?"
Jonathan shook his head vigorously in denial as he quivered so hard his teeth chattered.
Chuckling quietly to himself, Joker drew the sheets up around them both, and kissed Jonathan tenderly.
I warned you, did I not? Probably my most sexually explicit story to date. Yes, I know this, especially the ending, is slightly out-of-character - but please don't sue me because I seriously wouldn't be able to afford it.