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Summary
Joker starts subtly rocking his hips, grinding against him— he knows the moron is trying to get a rise out of him. Worse, it’s fucking working.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He whispers. Joker doesn’t stop his movements.
“Hm? Me? Nothing, really.” Joker whispers back coyly. Infuriating. Crow is pretty sure he’s only half-hard right now, but it’s more than he should be at all.
“Nothing? It seems to me you’re wanting something from me, but as we’re both aware, we’re only an hour into a Mementos run. We have hours left to go. So again, what do you think you’re doing?”
OR
Joker and Crow fuck in the back of the Mona Bus