Summary: Maybe they're both insane. After all, all this talk about skin has to be just hormones, right? Because it can't be normal to be so obsessed with the other person's shape. It just can't. R/S

A/N: 'Kay... This one is kinda weird. But I do like it. It's total R/S fluffiness, so if you don't like that shipping, then get out of here! In fact, if your against R/S, why are you reading anything I've written? I mean, if I didn't love like ten different categories, I'd call myself RS4ever. 'Cause that's how I feel.

Know what? The most fun was writing all the little flashbacks that is filled to the brim with simple R/S fluff. I really need to write more after-Tokyo stories...

I also can't figure out who was easier to do. I find it easier to get inside Robin's mind, but then again, it's easier to ogle Robin than Starfire. Ugh!

Disclaimer: I don't own TT, or teenage hormones. Seriously though, who'd want to own hormones? 'shudders'

Skin

She figured she must be insane.

What kind of person (alien though she may be) finds feet attractive? And on a guy? Yet, this is exactly what the alien princess found herself feeling. It wasn't to the point that she dreamed about them, and it definitely wasn't the most gorgeous thing about him. Still, she wasn't one to lie to herself, and especially over such a trivial matter as this. Because the point was, Starfire of Tamaran found the Boy Wonder's feet attractive.

The first time she had seen them was during her first month on Earth, when she had slept in his room because of a nightmare. Even then, he had been willing to comfort her when she was afraid. Truth be told, she hadn't seen them; she had merely felt them when they brushed hers underneath his thick, warm, comforting covers. He had apologized and scooted over a bit, turning over on his back, but she had froze, wondering why that simple touch had sent thrills through her body. At the time, she had pushed it to the corners of her mind and had snuggled deeper into his pillow.

But things like that have the tendency to come back and haunt you.

It was when a heat wave crossed Jump City that she really noticed them. It might not have even happened if it wasn't so humid out. But humidity had been at its highest, thus locking everyone inside with their air conditioners on full blast and the five teen heroes in agony.

The air conditioner had been working, for once, but it still wasn't enough to lessen the unbearable heat. Even Robin, as neurotic as he was, knew that nobody was going to leave their homes to attack in this heat and so had been slowly peeling off unnecessary layers of clothing. All the others had already shed their uniforms for cooler clothes and bare feet. And it was here that Starfire had found her new fascination.

She couldn't tell you what it what about his ten toes or pale skin, but just the sight of them sent heat though her body. Not quite the same heat as the humid atmosphere surrounding her, but still unwanted. Maybe it was the curve of his foot, or the pink of his nails. Maybe it was the light hair that covered the base of each digit, or the bump of his ankle bone. Whatever the reason, it only made Starfire more uncomfortable. I mean, really. Feet!

The door slid open with a swoosh and Starfire stepped inside Robin's room. She smiled when she saw his cape strewn over the back of a chair, his gloves on the floor and his iron-toe boots kicked carelessly near the green gloves. She found him on his bed lying on his stomach. He used his elbows to keep him propped up as he typed on his laptop and his knees were bent, leaving his feet to wave gently in the air.

He glanced over at her and smiled before returning to his work. She floated over to him and sat on his bed beside his legs. Biting her lip, she turned her body so she knelt on his bed and his feet were at eye level. She grinned slightly at his red socks and with a light tug pulled them off.

"What are you doing?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at her. She giggled in response and waved him away. Looking back at his feet she grabbed one in each hand and brought them to her face. She pressed them to her cheeks, enjoying the feel of his skin against hers and slowly rubbed them against her face.

He squirmed and wiggled his feet. "Hey, that tickles!" he chuckled. She closed her eyes and sighed softly, keeping a hold of his feet.

Maybe the reason she liked them so much was because they were his base, just like he was hers. Or maybe it was just because she was crazy.

He had always appreciated a woman's legs. After all, he was male and he was a teenager and dirty thoughts came naturally when hormones raged. Still, he did figure that he should have a little more control over his interest with his girlfriend's legs.

'Course it didn't help that superheroes wore spandex that just happened to cling to curves that would otherwise be invisible.

It wasn't like they were the first thing he had noticed about her. No, the long legs only entered his dreams after she had discovered the wonders of toe-nail polish.

She and Raven (who had finally yielded under the power of the puppy-dog pout) had been in the midst of a sleepover when the alarm had gone off. Starfire, having been startled by the flashing red light and loud blaring, had forgotten to put on her boots and had instead flew out without them. So he, being the unlucky sixteen-year-old that he was, had practically run smack-dab into those legs. Those long, tanned, absolutely luscious legs.

He admitted it. He stared. Whether or not she caught it wasn't the point. The point was that it was the first time that something had actually made him stop what he was doing and just... stare.

No, that was a lie. He had stopped and gawked before. Strange how every time that it had happened he found himself staring at her.

Anyway, that was his first encounter with The Legs. Yes, they would be capitalized in his mind, if never out loud, simply because they were the only legs that plagued his every thought, his every dream, his every fantasy. Because let's face it; teenage boys have perverted fantasies about voluptuous legs wrapped around their waists while the owner of before said legs moans their name. But luckily for Robin those thoughts didn't come too often, only every now and then when his level of self control was extremely low.

He had asked her once why she wore such short skirts. She had said that she was not bothered by Earthen temperatures, so why shouldn't she wear short skirts. Unless, of course, he didn't like her choice in clothing? Robin had hastily assured her that there was nothing wrong with her clothes, he was just curious as to why she wore what she did. She had accepted that answer and he had stared out over the ocean, cheeks stained red. Sometimes he hated being a guy.

What he couldn't figure out was why her legs were so appealing to him. Was it the smoothness of her skin (because he had felt how soft her skin was and the feel of it was addicting) or the curves of her leg (every curve toned and perfect for running your hands down)? Maybe it was the colour (the perfect orange tan, the perfect sun-kissed, drool-worthy tan) or the length (never-ending. He swore, those legs went on forever)? Or maybe a combination of them all? Whatever the reason, he didn't like it. He lost control around those legs.

And if there's one thing Dick Grayson didn't like, it's loosing control.

She giggled and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. Sighing happily, she let her head fall back and exposed her face to the sun as it shone its rays down on her flawless skin. Her long legs were spread out in front of her as she sat on the beach keeping Raven company.

Robin watched her as he sat on his perch overlooking the beach. His eyes were drawn to her golden limbs and he found himself unwilling to blink because he might miss something. Never before had he seen so much of her skin, never had he seen the entire length of those legs of hers and they enticed him to come nearer. With a sigh he took the bait and jumped down, walking over to his girlfriend.

Starfire grinned up at him happily. "Greetings, Robin. What is, as you say, up?" He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. She was so cute.

"Nothing much," he admitted, his eyes drifting towards those legs. He sat down next to her and laid a hand on her thigh. He brought his masked eyes back up to her face as his hand slowly caressed her skin. So soft, so warm.

"Having fun?" he asked.

She nodded vigorously. "Oh yes! They do not have such places like this on Tamaran! The warm heat from the sun and the wonderful games one can play on the ocean are quite enjoyable! Do you think..."

She continued to talk, her tone and words bubbling out of her. He listened contentedly as his hand continued to stroke the golden skin of her leg.

Maybe it was simply because those legs were hers and he loved her, so he loved them too. But he suspected it had a bit more to do with hormones than that.

On Tamaran, men didn't wear shirts. Or, to rephrase that, men between the ages of thirteen and twenty-three didn't wear shirts. Any other age wore vests or some other kind of cover over their torso if they so chose. But if they were a young adult they saw no point in hiding their toned body. After all, they were warriors and they were all in very good shape. Mostly.

Earth was very different than Tamaran, Starfire soon learned. It wasn't warm enough to go around half-naked much of the time for one thing, and for another, many men didn't like flaunting their bodies. Actually, more to the point, Robin didn't like flaunting his body. Which was a shame because he had such a nice body.

She had heard a saying called "washboard stomach". Once she had learned what they were talking about (a man's stomach muscles) she had thought that that must be what Robin's body would be like. She was wrong. Robin had not filled out enough to have "washboard abs", but Nightwing had. And Nightwing did have a (very) nice stomach and Nightwing was hot as earthlings would say. Very hot.

She had noticed Robin's chest in the same manner as his feet – due to nightmares. She had sneaked into his room and slept next to him, her head leaning against his shoulder and her hand on his taunt stomach. Thin and wiry, he was much too scrawny to be really hot.

When she had visited the future, she had had another nightmare and, as a habit, she had ran into his room, not remembering that Robin was not Robin any more, but Nightwing. He had jumped (not as accustomed to her sneaking in as he had been in the past), but once he had seen her face he had relaxed and let her snuggle up against him.

His stomach had been very washboard like and she had softly ran her hand across the muscled skin. She knew then that it would not be very long before her Robin's training paid off and he was as attractive and fit as his older self. The thought had comforted her for some reason and she had smiled secretly to herself.

Now he was older. Not yet Nightwing, but not really Robin any more. Not as tall as her, but gaining height every week. Not as nearly as skinny as the sidekick to the Batman, but not near as sculpted as the long-haired hero of that not-too-distant future. And, just like she had known it would, his training was starting to pay off.

He kicked viciously as the punching bag, throwing in an odd punch or two as the bag swung from side to side. His breaths were laboured and his chest heaved from exertion. Starfire watched from the doorway and slowly floated into the room.

After a final punch he took a couple of steps back and rested his hands on his knees, hanging his head as he filled his lungs with air. About a minute later he straightened and pulled his shirt off. She blinked at the sudden move and watched in awe as he returned to attacking the defenceless brick red punching bag.

His torso was coated in sweat and the sun from one of the windows shone its rays on him, dancing across his skin. She gazed at him in fascination as his muscles flexed and relaxed while he fought his invisible opponent.

She flew over to him and grabbed the punching bag, stopping its swings. He faltered and caught himself just in time before staring at her. "What?" he asked sharply. She frowned and he calmed himself down, taking a deep breath.

"Sorry, Star. What is it?" he asked, softening his voice. She angled her head to the side, observing him with a soft smile. She leaned on the punching bag and very slowly her smile turned coy.

"I am merely enjoying the view."

He blushed a deep red and began to stammer incoherently.

Sometimes she wondered if it was because it was such a rare thing to view that his torso entranced her so much.

He remembered how, when he was in the care of The Batman, hugs were limited. You often got a handshake, maybe a pat on the back or a comforting hand on the shoulder. This was not the case at Titans Tower. If you ever really needed a hug you could receive one. Especially if your best friend/girlfriend was an overly enthusiastic, wears-her-heart-on-her-sleeve alien.

There was something strangely comforting about her arms. Not comforting in the sense of warmth, but more in the knowledge that if those arms were around you it was a pretty safe bet that they would stay around you. There was so much strength in those orange arms, despite their small size.

Back before they were an official couple, he would get many hugs from her. The comforting hugs, the frightened hugs, the flirty hugs and the "I am so glad to see you because I am secretly in love with you" death hugs. But, of course, he only knew those hugs as death hugs until after they were a couple. Back then, getting a hug from her would almost make all of his self control go to pieces and it would take everything he had to not push her up against the wall and ravish her with a kind of passion that only a almost-seventeen-year-old boy can possess.

Now that they were a couple he got hugs all the time. Whether they be the one armed hugs (they only happened when they were walking side by side and she wanted to stay close by him), or the tender hugs (in which they would just hold on to each other until something or someone interrupted them), they were special because they were her hugs.

Sometimes he wondered about that metal arm band she wore constantly, but he never asked about it. It was obviously very important to her and she would tell him its importance when she was ready. He also knew, deep down inside, that her arm just wouldn't look the same without it. So he kept his mouth shut and just enjoyed them.

"So... You're saying that those three stars that make up Orion's Belt are three different planets."

"Yes."

"In three different galaxies."

"Yes."

"And one of those planet's is beige?!"

She giggled and hugged his arm tighter. "Yes, Robin. That is precisely what I have been saying."

He smiled down at her. "Look, I'm not saying I don't believe you-"

"I know that you do." Tighter grip.

"But beige?!"

She laughed freely and squeezed his arm even more. He winced from her grip.

"Star, my arm."

"Oh!" She released it immediately and her hands flew up to her mouth. He gave his arm a quick look over.

"That's gonna leave a mark. Or bruise," he muttered to himself. Her eyes filled with tears and her face crumpled. His gaze darted up to her and he grew alarmed at her sorrow.

"Hey, hey! It's okay! It's not your fault, Star!" He took her in his arms and laid his head on top of hers. "It's okay, I'm not mad."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and sniffed. "I am so very sorry." Her arms tightened around his waist and he decided that only if he couldn't breath any more would he ask her to let go.

He loved the feel of her arms around him because the utter love and devotion that came off it warmed his heart and soul in a way that nothing else had every done before.

Hands were very strange things, she decided. You could hold things in them, make fists, snap, clap, and you could make many different signs to mean certain things. You could hold a hand, or 'pound' a hand, or even give a 'high five'. They were very curious indeed.

But, she did like Robin's hands.

She had seen his hands a few times, more often now that they were dating. He liked doing his work without his gloves, and may times she would enter his room to see him typing away on his laptop, signing a paper, or filing a folder, his hands bare. She liked seeing those hands, the nimble fingers at work, and there was a curiosity about what it would be like to touch them. What it would be like to have them touch her. After all, even if they were dating Robin was as paranoid as ever before, and they had decided to take it slow.

They were scarred, those hands. Small scars of white that were only noticeable when one really looked. They covered the back of his hands, little zig-zags of memories, training sessions and battles. His knuckles were clearly visible, as he was still in his awkward stage of life, his fingers long and nimble. His nails were always short, and sometimes there was dried blood on the edges of his nails. When she had asked about that, he had blushed and admitted that he bit his nails and fingers sometimes, especially if he was nervous or obsessed with something. He had then muttered something about it being the only thing he had in common with his birth-father.

She liked the feel of his hands holding hers. They were larger than hers, and they would practically cover hers, enveloping them in his affection and love for her. There was so many different kinds of hand holding – chaste 'I feel like it' holds, tender 'You're my best friend' holds, controlled passionate 'What did I do to deserve you' holds, and so many more. There were the holds that came along as they fought in battle, and she got to hold his hands whenever they flew together. They were such warm hands. Such beautiful hands.

"It is a Tamarian game," she explained, with a happy grin.

He raised an eye, causing one side of his mask to grow. "A game?" he repeated. "What kind of game needs me to go gloveless?"

"A very special game," she smiled. "A game only done by... partners."

"Partners?" His eyebrow went further up.

"Such as we are," she hastened to add. "It is nothing bad."

He relaxed, and his eyes dropped to their intertwined hands. He sighed then looked back up at her. "Alright," he said with a little smile. "Teach me."

"Very well," she nodded. "First, we must raise your hands." She slowly brought their clasped hands up to her level and turned them vertically. "Then, we must straighten our fingers." This they did, and she smiled as she saw his hands were larger than hers. The palms were wider and his fingers were longer, making her hand suddenly seem so very small.

"Now what?" he asked, watching her very carefully.

She ignored the question, choosing to examine their hands instead. "You have much to grow yet," she mumbled.

"Really?" This seemed to please him. "You mean, I might actually be taller than you?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I doubt very much if I shall grow any more. You though..." she trailed off. "Nightwing was taller than I," she finished.

"Finally," he groaned dramatically. "Growth spurt, here I come!" She giggled and he smiled at her fondly. "Now what?" he repeated.

"One can tell their... chemistry, is it? By the shape of the hands, by the way one is dwarfed by the other, you understand?"

"Of course," he said with a nod. "So... what does it say for us?"

She smiled at their hands once more, her eyes softening. "I believe we shall be very happy together," she said. "You shall protect me, and I shall light up your life."

He grinned. "I could've told you that," he muttered, interlocking their fingers once more.

She had never appreciated the wonder of his hands until after she was able to hold them whenever she wanted to. It was so very wonderful to be his girlfriend.

Now and then he wondered about the practicality of her uniform. Seriously though, she wore a mini-skirt, and a halter top where one should really cover it up, but she wore arms guards, long boots, and a neck brace. Did Tamarians have inside information about how Earthen boys' minds worked, that he had never known about before? Because it was so very hard to not want to see her legs and neck, especially after he'd had a peek. Did they find some twisted pleasure in designing these clothes, knowing that one day their princess would get herself a human boyfriend who would be infatuated with her skin and had thus chosen clothes that would only heighten his torture?

Don't answer that.

Somewhere along the way of getting to know the alien princess not as his best friend, but as his girlfriend, he had discovered the beauty of her neck. Strange, yes. True, also yes. There was something about the length and curves of that skin that made him want to pepper that skin with hundreds of kisses. And he had no idea what it was.

Maybe it was the colour, that perfect sun-kissed orange. Or, perhaps the fact that he almost never saw it. The only part he had seen for such a long time was that small patch that peeked out of the neck brace and there was nothing truly spectacular about that. No, it was the way it curved out of her chest and slowly reached her gorgeous head that made it beautiful.

That's it. He was pathetic.

The few times he had ever seen her neck had made him so fascinated that he became obsessed with it. Of course, it was a very different kind of obsessed than what one might think – he just looked for any opportunity to see it. It was such a nice neck... And it smelled really nice too. It just turned out he happened to see a lot of Starfires in his dreams, most of them in swimsuits with her neck exposed to the sun. He would always wake up panting, accompanied with a great need to have a cold shower and to see that lovely neck of hers.

And thus, he made a huge effort to get up at sunrise with the hopes that she would be there absorbing the sunlight. He liked, no, loved the sight of sunshine dancing along the golden shine of her skin, making her glow like some heavenly creature. His angel.

He couldn't think any more, instead he acted solely on instinct, and instinct was telling him to continue kissing the beautiful alien who was currently running her hands through his hair.

He pulled back, disconnecting their lips and as she made a small whimper of protest he panted, struggling to catch his breath. He opened his eyes slowly and gazed into the half-glazed eyes of his girlfriend. Slowly, he returned to kissing her, this time away from her lips. Across her forehead, down her temple, down her cheekbones, past her jawline until he reached her neck. That beautiful neck.

He planted soft, teasing kisses down that golden skin, focusing only on her. He brushed his lips down the curve of her neck, and in the valley that appeared as she threw her head back. He reached her collarbone and ran his lips across it until he reached the other side of her neck. He breathed against it as he moved upwards, until he finally reached those perfect lips again. She pulled him down and he lost himself in her taste.

"Hey, Rob, you in there?"

He pulled away with a groan and lay his head in the curve between her shoulder and neck. "Yeah, Cy; what is it?"

"Can B and me go grab some pizza?"

He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "Sure, Cy. Bring back a cheese one for me, and a Starfire special."

"No problem." He heard the footsteps as his half metal friend walked away.

"Great," he muttered against his girlfriend's neck. He heard her soft sigh and felt her fingers play gently in his hair. He nuzzled into the soft skin of her neck, and inhaled the sweet smell. There was no better place in the world to be then right there.

Maybe, he thought looking back on the things he liked best about Starfire, he was just a curve guy. A guy who found body parts that had many curves very attractive. Still. It was pretty pathetic.

Kissing was a very strange Earthen custom. That was not to say that it wasn't enjoyable, for whenever she kissed Robin she found a great thrill of pleasure shoot through her. She merely thought it strange. And it made her wonder who was the first person to to come up with the idea of "lip contact". They should be commended, whoever they may be.

She liked Robin's lips. She had even before they got together, before she had fallen in love with him. Back then, she would watch his lips as a sign of emotions, of what it might be that he was feeling. Slightly upturned corners might indicate amusement. A lowering at the corners indicated displeasure. A lifting of one corner was the start of a smirk. A slight pursing meant he was in deep thought.

After some time he felt he didn't have to watch his emotions so carefully, and he used his lips more. She found it odd how a simple smile could change his face as much as it did, or how a frown could do the same. When he was confident (or arrogant, depending on the situation), one side of his mouth would lift in a smirk. A know-it-all, you can't ever beat me smirk. It was as annoying as it was attractive. When he was thinking (without becoming obsessed) his lips would purse and his brows would scrunch together. When he was happy, content actually, a small, peaceful smile would make his lips curve up slightly at the corners and he would be perfectly calm. There was also the times when he was ecstatic and his lips would break apart as he laughed, leaving him grinning hugely afterwards.

He had soft lips. They weren't feminine though – slightly pink and full didn't have to indicate a woman's mouth. She liked the taste of them; she had always liked the taste of them. There was the mixture of coffee, and chocolate and a very woody taste that she always wondered about. Her favourite thing about them though, wasn't any of the things one would think it could be.

It was the shape.

The perfect curve to them, the way they morphed ever so slightly when he did frown, or laugh, or smirk, was so exotic and intoxicating that when she did focus only on those lips, she would just drift off into her own little world.

"I'm going to show you how to make cookies."

"You are going to cook?"

He glanced over at her, his eyes narrowed in mock anger. "Yes, Star; believe it or not, I know how to cook."

She giggled. It was nice to have the Tower to themselves for once. This way they could be completely Robin and Starfire, couple and best friends alike.

"Very well, dearest Robin, please commence in the teaching."

His lips parted to form a cheeky grin. She knew he loved to hear her talk, and she knew that he loved their innocent (and not so innocent) flirting as much as she did.

"Alright, first the ingredients."

She watched him as he cooked, explaining what to do with each part to her patiently and lovingly. She smiled as she observed the different expressions his mouth would make as he baked. The concentrated biting down of the lip, the annoyed frown, the proud grin and the patient smile. She loved him and this way she could see all of him in the most simple way possible.

A while later, he grabbed the first cookie and bite off half of it. He chewed it and swallowed, grinning lightly. "Perfect," he said. "Just like Mom made." His smile faltered and Starfire frowned.

Suddenly she pressed her lips to his and pulled back seconds later. He blinked at her and she giggled. "You had crumbs on your lips," she explained.

There was something so very wonderful about knowing that she would always be able to kiss those lips. And there was something just as wonderful knowing that it would be up to her to make those lips form a smile for the rest of his life. She figured the smile was beautiful enough to be worth it.

When he was little, people would walk over and pinch his cheeks while they commented to his mother on how cute he was. When he grew up a little more they tweaked his nose and told him he had such a cute button nose. At the time he hadn't understood how a nose could resemble a button.

He knew how it could now.

His girlfriend had a button nose. It was cute and small and altogether perfect. Tanned orange like the rest of her face it finished the Starfire package in the best way possible.

He remembered how, months ago, when he loved her from afar, he would memorize every expression she had and find great amusement in the way her nose would compliment her face and finish the expression. When she was wondering, her nose would wrinkle in an adoring way and when she was angry (which she was sometimes) her nostrils would flare and after that, fear would take over him and the examination would be over until she calmed down. But, the best thing was when she smelled something, either literally or figuratively, and her nose would twitch as she attempted to sniff it out. She never really did understand the whole saying of "I smell something fishy" and would continually believe that there would be a smell of fish in the air. But, still, it took every bit of himself to keep himself from laughing when he saw that expression. She was just so adorable.

During the first couple of weeks as a couple, he had taught her the Eskimo Kiss, which she quickly dubbed as "the rubbing of noses". And many times, if they passed each other in the halls, or saw each other in the kitchen, or were merely in the same room for a few moments alone, they would share an Eskimo Kiss and Starfire would giggle and he would smile, perfectly content with his lot in life. After all, his life couldn't be that horrible if he had Starfire as his girlfriend.

Now that he wasn't so wary, they kissed more, real kisses, and their noses would brush each other and electricity would sizzle through his body until he lost all coherent thought. Then Star would pull back and he would stare at her longing, and she would giggle, and her perfect nose would wrinkle a little and he would just stare in awe of her beauty. Such innocent beauty... And it was all his.

She giggled as a flock of butterflies flew over their heads. She sat up and raised her hand to wave at the migrating cloud of bright colours. Robin smiled softly at his girlfriend's innocence.

"They are flying away because it is spring, yes?" she questioned, her eyes never leaving the butterfly covered sky.

Robin nodded. "That's right. There's going back north now, to their home." He sighed and raised himself up on his elbows. "Means that the weather's going to get warmer," he added.

"Glorious," she murmured and he knew that she meant the butterflies, not the warm weather.

Suddenly a lone butterfly swooped down to the two Titans sitting on their yard and fluttered around their faces. As Starfire cooed at its flight, it floated nearer and, very softly, landed on her nose. She blinked her large green orbs at the bright wings that covered her nose as her boyfriend struggled to contain his laughter.

"Robin, may I ask what is so humorous?" she asked quietly, her eyes darting over to look at him swiftly before focusing back on the butterfly.

"Your face," he chuckled. "The look on your face," and he gave into his chuckles, a hand flying up to stifle them.

Starfire gave him a look and was about to do something when she froze suddenly. "Do you believe that if I made a movement somewhat suddenly, it would become frightened and fly away?" she whispered, her eyes filling with worry.

"Probably," he agreed, finally having calmed himself down. "Besides, Star, I didn't mean anything by it. Sometimes you're just too cute, that's all."

She blushed and ducked her head causing the butterfly to lift off her nose and zoom off to join its colony. Starfire whimpered in disappointment and Robin slung an arm around her shoulders.

"It's better this way, Star," he mumbled. "It would've had to leave soon anyway."

"But... my nose is cold now..."

Robin grinned boyishly, and turned her so she faced him. He gave her a quick peck on the lips and an Eskimo Kiss. "I'll keep you warm," he assured her.

In all likelihood, the only reason he loved it so was because it was the most adorable part of her. And one of the things he loved the most about her was her naivety and absolute cuteness.

She had always wondered about that piece of cloth that covered his eyes. What was the purpose of it, why he felt he could never take it off, and, most importantly, what lay beneath it. Some theories she had come up with included a scar from a horrible battle that crossed his eyes, or perhaps he was blind. So, in a way, she was disappointed when he had told her it was only to keep his identity a secret, his and his father's, because there was many people who would kill them if they knew who they really were.

What she found strange about that silly mask was how much Robin depended on it. He used it to keep his emotions a secret and he used it to alert people who he was. Once, Robin had explained that if he took away his uniform, heck, if he even took away his mask he wouldn't be known as a hero while his team would always be known as heroes. And how, in his own horribly stupid way, he needed that mask to hide who he really was, and what lay beneath the surface of the great Boy Wonder.

Which was why, when he took it off for her, she had felt blessed.

She had been struck dumb at first by the sheer wonder of his eyes. They were unlike any other colour she had ever seen. A perfect blend of blue that shone with his different emotions and darkened and twinkled as his soul did. Eyes, she decided, truly were the windows to the soul. And he had such a beautiful soul.

On the days when they were alone (days Beast Boy and Cyborg had christened "The Love Birds' Days"), he would take off his mask and she would be able to discover every colour his eyes ever were as he felt the different emotions in a normal day. She especially loved when they were watching a movie Robin liked in particular, and he would get so into it, and his eyes would shine with excitement, darken with fear, become cloudy with disgust or disappointment and every other thing. She loved it too, when they kissed and kissed and kissed and when they finally pulled apart his eyes would be so dark, like indigo, but they would absolutely glow with love for her.

"All I'm saying is," he continued, his hand digging around in the bowl for any last bits of popcorn. "Those effects were really, really bad."

"So... If the 'effects' were not so bad, it would have been much better?"

"Exactly." He frowned and looked down into the bowl. "Where did all the popcorn go?"

"And yet, dearest, you seemed to be enjoying the movie very much," she said, ignoring his question about the popcorn.

"I'm not saying it was a bad movie, Star," he corrected, "just that it had pretty bad effects." He narrowed his eyes at her and they twinkled with mischief. "You ate all the popcorn, didn't you?"

"A moment ago, the effects were "really, really, bad". Now, they are merely, "pretty bad". Please, which were they?" she asked, seemingly innocent.

"I'm not answering that until you answer mine." His eyes darkened with seriousness. "Did you eat all the popcorn?"

"Perhaps," she dodged. "But, I do not understand your fascination with the effects. In what way do they compliment the movie?"

"They just do; now, where did all the popcorn go?" His eyes were flashing now with anger. Starfire, on her part, was enjoying the show. She had only seen his eyes twice before and she was discovering more about her hero than she ever thought possible.

"You are becoming angry," she murmured. He sighed, closing his eyes (another trait she had never realised he had until he took off his mask) and after calming down a bit, opened them again. She smiled at the clear blue.

"Effects are nice because the better the effects the more realistic the movie seems. On the other hand, if there are too many effects, it just looks overdone and tacky. Okay?"

She brightened and nodded. "Yes. It is." She then smiled sweetly at him. "And yes, Robin, I did eat all the popcorn. I am sorry, but the parts of action were very frightening."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his eyes darkened in self-anger.

Her eyes fell to her lap. "I was enjoying watching your eyes. If I had disturbed you, then you might have become sad and..."

He cupped her chin in his hand and raised her head to look him in the eyes. They shone with all the love he felt for her and she found herself drowning. "You could never disturb me. Never."

She found herself believing him, because there was no lie in those eyes of his.

Even when he did wear his mask, she smiled to herself. Now she knew what lay beneath and she could imagine what they were doing as he lived from day to day. Besides, one day she would be able to see them all the time.

Red was his favourite colour. He had always loved red, ever since he was a child and he was just learning his colours. His teacher (also known as his mom as he was home schooled) had asked him why and, being an innocent little boy, he had grinned and said, "Mama's hair is red, a'course!"

Maybe that was why her hair had been the first thing to attract his attention. The flaming red hair caught his eye, and then the rest of her, heaving for breath as she struggled to get the cuffs off her hands. Once she calmed down, for that split second before she pulled him into a harsh kiss, he noticed how well it framed her face and complimented those eyes of hers. Even now, he loved her hair.

Back when they were Just Friends (although, looking back on it, they never were really Just Friends, as Just Friends never got butterflies in their stomach like he did the first time she smiled at him), he admired her hair, and the way the wind blew through it. He liked it best when it flowed free and wild, like her. Though there were times when it was nice to see her beautiful face without loose strands of hair covering her eyes, or brushing her cheek, by the end of the day he always had to reign himself in to keep from pulling it out of its knot.

Sometimes, she would hug him and he would get a huge whiff of the scent of her hair. It smelled like strawberries and cream and every now and again he would indulge himself and inhaled the sweet perfume before gently pulling back. Once he had a taste, as one could say, of her hair, he wanted more. He wanted to know what it was like to touch it, to run his fingers through it, to feel it tickle his cheek. But they were Just Friends, and thoughts like those were forbidden.

Now that they were more, he was allowed to think those sorts of things and, even better, put some of them into motion. When they kissed she encouraged him to play with her hair, when they hugged he was allowed to pull her close and smell the delicious scent, when they walked side by side and her hair was blown about by the wind he could enjoy the feeling of it brushing his cheek. He could worship her and pay tribute to her hair. Now, it was perfectly acceptable and, in a way, expected.

"Robin?"

He looked up from his seat on the couch and smiled. "Over here, Star."

Her smile brightened the whole room and she floated over to him and knelt in front of him on the floor. "Could you please assist me with something?" she asked innocently.

"Sure," he answered, putting his newspaper down. "What is it?"

"Raven has insisted that she was too busy to assist me, and friends Beast Boy and Cyborg would not be much help, I fear... So, I thought perhaps you would help!"

"Star," he chuckled. "What do you need?"

She bit her lip and stared at his lap. "I was wondering if you know how to create a braid."

"A braid?" He shook his head. "Sorry, Star, the best I can do is a ponytail."

"Oh..." She looked up at him. "I believe that will be sufficient. Do you think you could create a ponytail for me?"

He smiled. "Of course, Star. Turn around."

She brightened and, handing him the brush and band, turned around and leaned against the couch. Robin took off his gloves, picked up the brush and reached out to her hair. Slowly, he ran the brush through her hair, carefully clearing her hair of knots and thoroughly enjoying the feel of her hair in his hands. Once he was finished with this task he arranged her hair in a ponytail and gave it a light tug to indicate that it was done.

"Finished. How's that?" he asked as she turned around.

"Perfect. Thank you, Robin." She smiled up at him and he smiled back at her easily.

"No problem," he mumbled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

He couldn't say that it was his favourite part of her, but he had to admit it was the best smelling and the silkiest; and as an added bonus was his favourite colour. No downside.

It could be said that they loved all of the other; that there was not one part of them – as a whole, as a couple – that was not adored and (at times) drooled over. But, on the other hand, the idea that their relationship was based completely on physical attraction would have been the lowest lie that was ever spoken.

Perhaps to them, it was enough that they loved each other and any other feelings like annoyance, joy, sorrow, hope, and lust, came in second and really meant nothing at all compared to the completeness they felt when together.

But let's never forget that they were teenagers, after all.

-END-