He couldn't stop thinking about it

A few nights later, the Batman was suited up and fighting some petty criminals. They would be no trouble at all to deal with even without his armor and gadgets, both of which make the combat even more trivial. Even still, as his body threw punches and kicks with rehearsed and habitual efficiency, it was essentially running on autopilot. Most of his mind was dedicated to one thing and one thing only, no matter how hard he tried to push it further down and compartmentalise his usually disciplined brain - the thought of getting slept by one of these criminals. He couldn't stop picturing it.

What would happen? What would happen if he just dropped?

...What would they do with him?

Even with his mind off of the ball, he won easily, finishing the fight with a solid punch into a female burglar's cheek. With the last of them down, he was finally free to deal with the raging, pulsing hard-on he was sporting beneath his batsuit. He gripped it, hunching over slightly, trying to get it to calm down. He usually had such control over his body, and he wasn't sure why all of a sudden things were getting so hard to deal with...