It all begins with a kiss.
Well, if one doesn't count the bruises forming along my forearms, the split lip, or the teethmarks imprinted on my knuckles. Yeah...you heard right: teethmarks. The Bat certainly doesn't leave anything out of his training. But in my defense (and I have a very good defense) he was just as beaten and battered as myself (I have an awesome offense).
The tussle, always a good excersize for a sharp mind, came to an abrupt halt with his lips. Or, perhaps not a halt at all, but rather a change in directions. I had met the wall, its unyielding bricks trapping me for merily a moment. He came in fast, hard, as expected. My memory played past encounters, recorded his moves, and I pulled ten different possibilities for where he'd strike next. These met with thirty responces to greet each with.
All these fast predictions froze to nothing when warm mouths met, my counters suddenly indesicive. Nothing but instinct left to rely on, and all that instinct wanted was to push back into the embrace, green arms holding me.
Ok. One would assume I'd be the first to initiate said action. I did have the best offense out of us two. But when you're given something you've kind of wanted for awhile, you don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Cause seriously, why would I want to look in his mouth? This was just fine for me.
Yeah, it's easier to say this all began with a kiss. Not the stupid pecks on the cheek your mom gives you when your cute for once, or the lying promise a potential girl grants after you've hung out for awhile. This was hungry. And sickingly good. The wall really did have its uses beyond leaving my spine a little rattled. For one groundless moment I couldn't remember who had the split lip, except that I tasted blood and I knew he could taste it too. Something we shared. We shared the same tastes.
One groundless moment and then I decided to shove him off of me. I did it so he'd have to stumble several steps backwards. I could watch him do that wheely balance and not fall down trick. It was nice to watch. And nicer still was that look, behind the mask and directed at me and me alone. Such an expression couldn't decide whether it was supposed to be ashamed, or hurtful, or defiant or what. I almost thought he'd call me on accepting the kiss for so long. That I had no right to suddenly end it. He's too proud to word that though. Instead, he's quiet and crossing his arms. Expecting.
I make him wait. Five seconds. Fifteen. He deserves it though, because I remember now that the split lip is mine and all because he pulled that stupid bo staff when I had thought we were only using hand to hand. Meh, the staff went over the roof in my retaliation. He shifts his weight. I wonder if he'll really hurt me bad if I comment on his impatience. The mental image alone makes me fail in stiffling a grin.
"You're messing with my head," he finally says.
It's too easy to think of responses to that. "You should be used to that by now."
"So, that wasn't good? Wasn't worth the effort?" He's got the habit of asking now, after a training session. Looking for things we say that will prove to him where he's open or weak. Did Batman allow the questions? Did Slade? Not for me surely.
I'm tempted to lie and tell him that it was a waste of effort. But there's still electricity buzzing on my tongue and there are still ghost fingers pressing into my shoulders. I want to find a way to get them back.
I shrug.
He smirks and shrugs half heartedly also. "I feel the same." Grin widens. "A fangirl could kiss better than you."
Last straw. I'm lightening and he's rolling under me. The gravel makes strange crunching noises as we roll once. Twice. Three times until I've got my gloved hands on his arms going for the replay. And he's got this twisted grin widening as we share again my blood and the tastes of eachother, making me wonder what's so damned amusing to him.
"You learnt that from Slade."
There. He's figured me out. The last few months of my own mindgames and empty promises. How Slade would always be partly proud but nothing was ever good enough. The relationship was wrong, and twisted, and fucked up bad.
If he's going to use words for blows now, I can counter just as well.
"We did have a lot in common." I'm watching him watch me. "Us, I mean. But Slade...he always liked you better."
The frown. It's a beautiful frown, but it tells that in two seconds I'm going to be face down in the gravel with a broken arm winding behind me. I save my ass. "I like you better too."
The unexpected phrase leaves him open for another lock of lips. Kiss the third and roving hands. Roving hands and the sun is suddenly a hell of a lot closer, or hotter. Or the costumes a little too constricting. It's a unique affliction because even when Slade beat the crap out of me and I was too dead or tired to beg for reprieve, it was never this warm.
He lets a sound escape into my throat. It's a really good sound. Like it's not sure if it's a question or a happy sound. It's a really really good sound when he repeats it too. Drawing back it's all I can do to say
"Right here and right now Boy Wonder."
Wonder Boy blinks at me and clears his throat. "Pardon?"
What?
"I was trying to say you're crushing my leg."
"Oh." And I shift a little, giving him back his limb which he absently rubs. Myself left wondering if I had expected him to say something really cheesy like 'First you steal my costume, now my heart' instead. It really sucks that I'm the one blushing now.
"But if that's what you want..."
What I want. Nobody's asked that before. "Well, what do you want?"
I'm fully expecting him to say me, or an elude to throwing our belts off the building, or maybe just the gauntlets cause I'd really like to feel his hair.
"World peace."
What?
I've probably got a really stupid look on my face, and once more I wonder if pillow talk should just be left for the pillows. Or ignored completely. One good thing to credit to Slade. There was only action. And crying. Lots and lots of crying.
"Or my parents. It kind of sucks to have no family."
There will be crying if he gets sentimental to me, but Robin's just thoughtful. He smiles ruefully at my really blank stare. "Or were you expecting me to say that you've stolen my heart, like you steal my clothes."
Bastard.
"I want you Boy Wonder."
"So does everyone else." he adds, and he's being smug and arrogant. And I like when he's smug and arrogant.
"But right now I'm free so I suppose you can have me."
I'm about to point out that that was the lamest thing I had ever heard, even if it's exactly what I want to hear. But Robin goes on, "But only if you promise not to kiss like fangirls anymore."
And we're rolling. Once. Twice. Three times and it feels right.
It feels good.
And in the end when he can't walk nearly as well as I can, I'll point out that he started it. In oh so many ways.
With the kiss.
Authors Note:
This was never on my to-list. I never planned to write this until yesterday on the way home from school. Call it an answer to Ginzai's Red X/Robin challange. I didn't mean it to be but partway through I found the challange and everything worked out better.
I wanted to make a Robin story coming up, and this actually hints towards it. So I hope when that gets up I can point people back here who wouldn't normally read slash and say "Background information. BACKGROUND INFORMATION!!!"
Heh.
Other than that, I'm not really too impressed with this. But it wasn't written for me. Just to sharpen my skillz or something. Ginzai liked it, so I know it must be good. Even if my thick head can't see the talent.
Yup. I'm cocky and arrogant.
Somebody kiss me. XP
-Greysnyper