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devilishkurumi
Subject: Harvey Dent, the Joker
Table: A
Prompt: Cry
Log or Thread?: Log
Heads up! Thar be smut in these thar woods! AKA, you should know that this log contains sexual stuff and so you need to be careful reading it. And stuff.

It didn't really strike the Joker as surprising that most of his time inside this God-forsaken hideout was spent in the kitchen. His room was for important things; the kitchen... for not so important things. At the moment, he found himself hunched over a chopping board, stabbing a little ineffectually at various vegetables. He couldn't stop sniffling, and it was more than once that he had to rub at his face with the back of his arm, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. His arm had splotches of black and white greasepaint all over it.

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Harvey couldn't help but growl in return, hand wrapping around the Joker and stroking roughly. All his movements were sharp and in pace, quick like his breath even as it began to even out.

"Talking again." He muttered in the same dry tone of before, a little too much like a joke as he continued to move, a particularly long and drawn out stroke punctuating his statement.

The Joker didn't bother hiding it - he moaned, loud into Harvey's mouth and pulled away to suck in air with gasps. He bucked into Harvey's hand, knees shifting and sliding up into the back cushions of the couch, nails digging in to the other's back.

"I always talk," he gasped, giggling with hitched breath, "You should - nn - should get that by now."

"Not always." Harvey's nails dug into the Joker's shoulder, drawing down his arm in long reddened lines. His own skin was already splotched with bites, something Rachel had never done, a movement that was uniquely the clown's in Harvey's mind now without even realizing.

He let go to grab the green hair again and pull the man forward, maybe making a point of his statement by swallowing any words the painted man may have chosen to answer with. He quickened his pace, fingers tightening in the dyed hair as he did.

The Joker groaned and let Harvey jerk him around - aheh - panting against his mouth and pulling against Harvey's hand, increasing the tension there. His ears were ringing with the dulled sounds of rioting outside their door - technically, couldn't anybody just burst in here and see? Oh-ho, that would be something-!

He felt himself run up against the edge and groaned, trying to formulate some kind of remark, something to knock Harvey out of whatever daze he was most likely in.

"H-Harv-!"

Okay, not exactly the scathing, witty remark he had been intending, but he was too close to be coherent about things like that. He turned and bit Harvey's neck again, hard, hips jerking a few more times as he came with a groan.

Harvey released a breath at the groan muffled sharply at his throat. He felt disgusting in more ways than he cared to count but somehow the feeling fit like a second skin in this filthy room, with the man who had helped take everything away from him pressed up against him in a hot, sticky mess. Harvey's good eye slide to what he could catch of the painted face, half lips parted as though he wanted to speak, to say something biting or disturbed, whatever the script called for, but he couldn't bring himself to find the words.

A screech that could only be human broke him from his trance, eyes darting to the window as the broken sounds filtered in. He shoved the Joker aside, to the cleaner part of the couch now, sighing as he pulled himself up. "I hate you." he muttered, and it was almost casual, apathetic and age worn rather than bitter.

The Joker was almost ragdoll-like, flopping leisurely over to the other side of the couch and watching Harvey move with only the barest flicks of his eyes. He smiled lazily and rolled his eyes when Harvey spoke, reaching out with a foot to poke Harvey in the side with a long toenail.

"Don't be such a spoilsport, Harv. What do you honestly have to complain about?"

Harvey answered with an irate look- he wasn't going to bother responding to that. Maybe it was because his limbs felt loose and even with the nauseating aftertaste of their actions he felt calmer than he had in quite some time. The background on shouts and shattering all melded together to a drone.

"Take a shower soon will you?" He grumbled- casual, all of this was far too casual - as he walked around the couch, heading to clean himself up before his thoughts caught up with him.

"Gonna join?" he cooed, giggling and rolling half-off the couch. He kind of wanted to nap, honestly. And the couch was all warm now, so...

"Just wake me up in an hour." After all - showers came after naps. Woke him up.

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