AU Shenanigans

[exitthewallflower]

It's been six months since Cass disappeared. She's the first person I've known to do that and I still can't quite believe it. It hurts. She was family. A bat. And a friend. And every night since then, I've been killing myself to cover her turf and mine. Maybe literally now.

I was tired, too tired to be in the neighborhood I was in and I should have known better. But the deal was going down and I had to stop it before those drugs got on the street. One the good side? The bad guys are all tied up and the drugs were destroyed. On the bad side, I'm on the nearest roof losing consciousness after one too many hits after one too few nights' sleep. I remember calling the bust into the cops right before I remember thinking, "These bricks look really soft. I should lie down."

I don't really remember much after that.

Comments

[exitthewallflower]

It takes a mountain of self-control, but I let the killing comment go. Later, when I'm not a pile of bruises, I will point out that killing Carlos Novoa's cousin will only make things worse right now.

Instead I focus on not moving while he's pulling the glass out. "That would be the empty beer bottle. It hit the plate in my cowl. Didn't really hurt, but my ears rang something crazy." I shouldn't, but I close my eyes. It's almost... soothing? If it were anyone but Kaine, I would say it was soothing so okay, I'll say it's soothing. I am soothed.

[badtotheclone]

"Suuuure, it was the cowl that dulled the blow," I say, trying for a joke before I realize it may come off as a straight up insult. Way to go, Kaine. I'm doing a bang up job here at not being an ass.

"Oh. You're in the penthouse of the Hilton. I don't think anyone will think twice if you leave looking a little worse for wear. I- I might have an outfit or two of Cass's here but I don't know if they'd fit you."

[exitthewallflower]

I'm so zoned out from the fingers working through my hair, I don't even notice the crack about my thick skull. And honestly, having a thick skull is something of a job requirement, isn't it?

Sighing, I manage to chuckle. The penthouse. Of course it is. But I am not giving his ego the satisfaction of leaving looking like we just... nope. Not gonna happen. No with my face coloring like I feel it is. "I'll be fine. Sleep here on the couch for a few hours and put my suit back on. I can leave off the roof before dawn and have time to start breakfast for Aggie before she goes to school." Then I'll sleep. Tomorrow's definitely a sick day at work.

[badtotheclone]

"Called a mutual friend to go over and be there for Aggie when she wakes up," I say. Aggie and I butt heads sometimes but I like the kid and don't want her to worry.

As I talk my fingers idly moving down to rub her neck. I can feel how tense she is and it's practically impossible to resist trying ti work out some of the knots.

"And you can take the bed, I don't use it. You should probably shower too."

[exitthewallflower]

"Oh, God...." I don't even think about how it sounds, because it feels like heaven. I can't even remember when the last time I had any kind of massage that wasn't me working out a kink just good enough so I could swing another punch. And he's got good hands, broad and strong and he knows every muscle as well as any surgeon or masseuse.

I can't even think shower right now because I don't want to stop this.

[badtotheclone]

I'm not entirely sure why she's saying that, but it's not followed by "I'm going to kill you" so I figure it's probably a good sign that helping her relax isn't a bad thing. After the night she's had, she can definitely use it.

I move down to her shoulders, pressing on a particularly knotted area until the muscle feels like it's relaxed and in the proper place, repeating the process all across her upper back. I'm careful to avoid the knife wound but I figure if I'm in for a penny I'm in for a pound and move a bit lower.

"Be better if you laid down," I offer, figuring she can either accept or tell me to fuck off. At this point I'm not sure which one I want her to do. It feels good, touching her. I meant what I said earlier when I said I hadn't really seen a better figure.

[exitthewallflower]

I think he's finding knots I didn't know I had and if he's being this nice, I'm not about to stop him. I don't even stop to make any kind of comment about laying down because he's right. He's right and despite all the knots and bruises I need this. I need, like, a week of this, but that's out of the question. I don't have Wayne money. Or even Kaine's money, apparently. If I want a massage, this is how I get it.

And honestly? It just feels good to be touched. Tenderly. By someone trying to soothe me instead of kill me.

God I need a boyfriend.

I manage to stammer something like an agreement, moving slowly to stretch out before I said something that is going to ruin this. Because I will. I always do.

[badtotheclone]

There's no real good way to do this other than to straddle her. I could stand beside her but then it's awkward to massage her correctly. Besides, masseuses do this all the time and keep it professional, right? That's all this is, just being completely professional, courtesy of one crime fighter to another. Captain American and Iron Man probably do this shit all the time.

Fortunately the couch is big enough that I can easily put a knee on either side of her. I slip my hands under the shirt and continue massaging her. Her skin is soft underneath my calloused hands but her muscles are firm, not just because she's tense. I especially work the center of her lower back, just above the waistline of her underwear. I pause for a moment, not sure if I should go any lower. She could probably use it, although I can't tell if her ass is just that hard or if it's tense.

In the end, I decide to move my hands to the sides of her hips and keep going, moving to the back of her legs once I'm past her ass. Touching someone like this is so foreign for me except for touching Cass and I feel myself relax rather than tense up. The only experience I have with this kind of touch was such a good thing that I realize I've really missed it.

[exitthewallflower]

I try really hard to stay silent, but in the end it's a losing battle and I let a few little moans and groans out as he works lower on my back. I'm relaxing for the first time in weeks, months, even and I can't even stop to think about who I'm with or why. I just am and I focus on that.

After months, almost a year of poking and snarling, we're finally quiet and relaxed around each other. And I'm half naked with his hands all over me. "Kaine?" I'm not sure he can hear me with my face half in a pillow. I don't even know exactly what I want to ask him.

"Are you okay with this?"

Am I taking advantage of this temporary good will between us?

[badtotheclone]

That's a very, very good question and I'm not sure how to answer that. I'm not not-okay with it. I'm not freaking out or upset or angry or anything like that. In fact, if I'm honest, it's nice. It's nice to do this for someone, to touch her in a way that's selfless and, dare I say, kind?

Okay, on a more primal side, she's nice to touch. I like touching her and even if my body is reacting in ways that I'm not necessarily thinking about directly, she's hot and it's nice to touch hot women.

"Yeah," I grunt, rubbing along the inside of her thighs, just a bit higher than her knee. "Are you?"

[exitthewallflower]

"Yeah." And honestly, I am. I shouldn't be. I've had the crap beat out of me and I woke up in the penthouse of a guy I can barely have a civil conversation with but... maybe that's it. We're not talking anymore. There's just relaxing vibes and a soothing physicality to everything that doesn't require actual talking.

Soothing and something else I'm not quite sure I want to identify.

"Don't stop, okay? I mean, if you don't mind."

[badtotheclone]

"Won't," I reassure her, relieved that she doesn't want me to stop. That's kind of a scary thought but I try not to think about it too much. We're enjoying each other's company and that's not a bad thing, is it? I'm going to focus on that instead of anything else.

"Just... tell me if an area needs extra work," I add, moving down to massage her calf muscles.

[exitthewallflower]

My first thought is a thought I should NOT be having right now. Just... not appropriate at all. Not with him leaned over me, hands sliding over my skin. I am suddenly and ACUTELY aware of how little I'm wearing.

So I regroup. I take a slightly shuddering breath and look over my shoulder for a moment. "My entire body's been a mess for awhile. My physical therapist would kick my ass probably. But my back's the worst." He probably knows all about why. The scars are right there and Cass did tell him a lot. Even if it wasn't about the same Barbara, it's still valid enough. Figures the one thing I never talk about with anyone is the one thing I bring up with him.

[badtotheclone]

I nod, knowing what she means. Just because she can run and jump and fight again doesn't mean she's not paying a price for it. Probably a pretty hefty price. Sometimes I forget the Bats are just human. Very impressive humans, but just human.

"Just tell me higher, lower, left or right," I say. My hands move back up her body to her back, ghosting over her ass. I tell myself it would be weirder if I completely avoided it, that would make it an issue. This way it's just no big deal, right?

Right. So I begin massaging again, thumbs pressing hard into the muscles on either side of her spine. I kind of hope she'll make those moaning noises again.

[exitthewallflower]

It feels so good, my vision almost whites out and I can't even describe the sound that comes out of my mouth. I just... I don't want him to stop and I'm getting to the point where I might need him to or I'm going to say or do something we're going to regret. I mean, his hands were on my ass, that's... was that intentional? Was it... I don't know, is it something he wants?

Worse, is it something I want?

But I don't say anything other than, "Lower, please across my hips and back." That sounds perfectly normal, right?

[badtotheclone]

Lower. Okay, I can do lower. I'm a big, scary vigilante and I can totally massage Barbara a bit lower, right? My hands move to her hips first, reaching around almost under her to her hip-flexors and then to the sides, pressing in right where her femur meets her pelvis, then moving around back again.

I'm careful not to go too low though, working her tailbone, just under the waistline of her panties, but not much lower. That's where she wants me to stop, right? She wouldn't want me to go any lower, would she? Do I want to go lower?

From how I'm reacting to the sounds she's making, my body certainly wants her too. I'm glad she's face down because if she could see me right now, it would be very awkward considering the tent forming in my shorts.

[exitthewallflower]

I am now beyond putty. The way it feels to have his hands on my hips, the way he's just teasing the edge of my underwear, I'm breathing heavier and it has absolutely nothing to do exercise. At least, not the kind I'm used to. And unless he's, like, a monk and I KNOW he's not this probably is hitting the danger zone for him, too. I can't even look at him over my shoulder anymore because whatever is on my face probably screams things that are bad and wrong and just not allowed.

I don't know how, but I manage to clear my throat a little before I speak. Even so my voice is not exactly how it usually is. "Is this still just a massage?"

[badtotheclone]

I kind of hate her for asking that question, mostly because I'm not sure how to answer it myself. I also don't know if I want it to be just a massage or not. Yes? No? Maybe?

If I was smart I'd take my hands off of her and think it over for a moment. But I'm not smart and the more I touch her the more I don't want to stop. The fact that she's asking means she's not sure, right?

"It's... good," I tell her, which I hope answers the question. I hope it's answer enough.

[exitthewallflower]

"Very good." Did I say that too fast? Probably. But this is point of no return, right? I mean, something's got to give really soon and I don't know which way I want it to go. My body has some definite ideas, but my head's still mostly in charge and like always, it wants answers. "Good, but not exactly massage anymore. Which isn't bad, it's just... Do you want more than good?"

Okay, so my brain isn't as much in charge as I'd like it to be.

[badtotheclone]

Again with the questions. I know they're important to ask. I do. That doesn't mean I have to dislike it any less. I'd rather just... not stop and see what happens but I suppose clarifying on what we want is good. That way one of us won't be assuming the other wants something they don't.

"Probably shouldn't, but I do."

It's an honest answer, which itself is kind of surprising, but it leaves it open for her to accept or reject as she chooses. If yes? We both get something we want. If not? We don't do what we'd probably both regret later.

[exitthewallflower]

I do something I don't do very often. I tell my screaming brain to take a hike. It isn't easy, but right now I'm lonely, I'm angry, I'm tired and every time this frustrating man touches me I don't feel any of that. Probably shouldn't is pretty much the theme of every interaction I've had with this guy. So why stop now?

Taking another deep breath, I slowly roll myself over, feeling the t-shirt ride up my abdomen and not caring one bit. I make myself look at his eyes as I lean up and forward, as much into his space as I can manage. My rational conscience can have the rest of the night off.

"So do I."

[badtotheclone]

She turns around and catches me a bit by surprises. Somehow it's a bit harder to acknowledge all this while looking her in the eyes. It was a lot easier when she was just a really nice body I was massaging with an ass I badly wanted to get my hands on. But it's like she's thrown a gauntlet down now and I'm kinda pissed by that. But I also really don't want to stop.

So I pull her close and kiss her. Hard. Heated. As if to say "Fine!" with actions instead of words. One hand reaches down to grab her ass and pull her close, practically onto my lap. The other threads through her hair, keeping her mouth close as my body heats up and I realize how badly I'm craving this.

[exitthewallflower]

I can feel the pull of bruises and finally relaxed muscles, but I make zero effort to stop him. I don't know what's going on, but I feel like we went from a little smoke to a full-on blaze and I just can't bring myself to care. Not when I can feel, really feel how strong he is when he pulls me close. Not when every inch of me starts to work to find the best way to fit against him so there's no gap, my own hands finding his waist and pulling even as I kiss him back as hard as I can. Not I can feel him through his shorts as well as he can feel me through my shirt and I very, very much want us to be rid of both. I can give as hard as he can take.

Almost everything else with us has been a kind of combat, why should this be any different?

[badtotheclone]

I feel like she's trying to wrestle control of this from me and I refuse to let her have it. Not that I think either of us really has any great amount of control over it to begin with. This is playing with fire personified and I think the blaze is out of control, which makes it so much easier to just give in to it.

I can feel her nipples pressing against me through the fabric of our clothes and I suddenly realize I don't want that. I want to feel her directly against my skin. I don't stop the crushing kiss as I grab the back of the shirt this has on and rip it apart. Along with the satisfying sound of the tearing fabric I can feel her more distinctly. One hand reaches up between us and palms her breast, squeezing it as I rock my hips up against her.

[exitthewallflower]

I am not the most experienced woman when it comes to these things, I get that, but having my shirt literally torn off of me is a kind of turn-on I didn't even know I had until right now. Groaning, I run my hands up his chest and over my shoulders, digging my fingers into the nape of his neck as I kiss him harder. Every move he makes, I find myself matching, rocking back against him as my hands wander back down, pushing his shorts down over his hips. More skin, more contact, just more... everything. I want to feel him the way he's felt me, make him feel what I'm feeling.

But no matter what I do, I can't stop kissing him, I can't pull away. Am I worried that if I do, my rational thought's are going to kick in? I don't know, but I breathe him in like he's oxygen, feeling his lips and tongue against mine, groaning and gasping. But no names, I can't say his name, not like this.