A/N: This is a one-shot, but it made them come out kind of OOC to my esteem, so I didn't originally post it on fanfiction net. I thought it was pretty cute, though so I didn't want to delete it entirely, so I put it up on my emsscraps journal. It got some pretty good responses on there, so I thought okay, why not? And I'm now posting it up here. Let me know what you guys think, k? It hasn't been beta'd at all. (except by me, but that hardly counts, does it?)
Oh yeah...this is rated a high PG-13 for some language and definitely for insinuated situations (although nothing too obvious is detailed...)
A CHALLENGE: I have jumped on the challenge bandwagon. You can find my challenge in my forums on fanfiction (dot) net. Here: http / www . fanfiction . Net / fr / 803999 / 12043 / 251226 / 1 / (mind the spaces)
Trial and Error
"And how can I stand here with you / and not be moved by you/ Would you tell me / how could it be / any better than this?"
- Lifehouse, Everything
Robin stilled the moment just before the knock came at his door. "What…" he cleared his throat and when next he spoke, his voice sounded, thankfully, natural. "What is it?"
"Yo, Rob," Cyborg's voice came through the door. "Is everything okay?"
Robin fought very hard to keep his voice neutral, but with the sensations currently running through his body it was becoming increasingly difficult. "Fine," he squeaked. He glared down at the owner of the hands that had just found his ticklish spot. She, however, was unperturbed and certainly wasn't appropriately apologetic.
"What did you say?" Cyborg asked.
"I said…" he paused as a small scuffle ensued as he tried to keep her hands from other sensitive ticklish spots on his person. "…that everything's fine!" he hurried out before he lost the battle and fell right off the bed and onto his ass on the floor with a hard thump.
"What happened?" Cyborg asked, clearly worried.
She was trying so bravely not to laugh aloud at his ungraceful plop that he found it very hard to keep a stern look on his face.
'Serves you right…' he mouthed, pointing at her as he stood up.
"Everything's fine, Cyborg," he said, more naturally now that he had some distance from the intoxicating nearness of her. "I just fell on my ass, is all," he finished.
"You did?" Cyborg asked, then paused. Robin knew his friend so well that he knew just what kind of look was on his face. "Are you sure you're…?"
"I was practicing some katas, Cyborg," Robin answered, going to the door. He glanced at her warningly before opening the door just enough so that Cyborg could see him.
"In your boxer shorts?" Cyborg asked, taking in the disheveled appearance of their leader.
"Sure, why not?" Robin asked. "I'm in the privacy of my room, who's it going to bother?"
Cyborg shrugged slowly. "I guess no one…"
Robin and Cyborg both heard something that could have been a noise behind him, but Robin was the only one who knew just what it was. She had learned, just the night before, how to twirl a basketball on her fingers and had been almost uncontrollably obsessed with figuring out how to do it whenever she wasn't…otherwise engaged.
"Did you hear that?" Cyborg asked.
Robin managed to look confused. "Nope," he smiled at him, "So, what did you need?"
Cyborg scratched the top of his head and tried, unconsciously, to look passed Robin into his room, "You didn't hear that?"
"No," Robin insisted, "You were about to tell me why you came looking for me..."
Cyborg looked from the darkened bedroom to Robin's earnest face and frowned, "It sounded like a basketball hitting the floor..."
Robin internally cursed Cyborg's cybernetic hearing and just barely resisted glaring at her where he knew she must be grinning behind him. "Well, maybe the basketball fell off the table or something, but I didn't hear anything."
"Wouldn't it continue bouncing if it fell off the..."
"Cyborg?" Robin interrupted his train of thought, bringing Cyborg's attention back to him. "I'm standing in the hallway in my boxer shorts, so if you don't mind...what did you need?"
"Well," Cyborg suddenly looked sufficiently reprimanded. "You hadn't been out of your room all day, and we sort of got worried…"
Robin smiled at him. "Thanks, Cy, but I'm okay."
"Are you sure?" Cyborg asked., peering closer at him, "you're a little flushed."
Robin allowed Cyborg to press a palm to his forehead and read the temperature readout on his digitized forearm. "Just from the workout," Robin answered when the beep signaled the normal temperature. "Look," Robin told him. "I just felt like vegetating in my room all day…I've been doing nothing except what I want to…" he looked at him with his best convincing-nothing to see here-look. "I meant it when I said today would be an down day, see?"
"Okay," Cyborg said, still unconvinced, but unable to find anything overtly wrong. "We're going to the park," Cyborg told him, "Wanna come?"
"Nah," Robin answered casually. "I think I'll stick around here…I'm having a lazy day."
"Except for your workout," Cyborg mentioned.
Robin grinned brilliantly, just managing to keep from laughing. "Yeah…except for my workout."
"Alright," Cyborg said. "Why don't you come out and get some fresh air a little later, then? We'll probably be there for awhile."
Robin nodded. "Maybe."
"Okay," Cyborg started to look as if he didn't know what else to do, and Robin pictured that as the end of the conversation.
"See ya," Robin told him, closing the door before Cyborg could say anything else.
She was on her knees on the unmade bed, the mountains of white comforter around her like a cloud. 'You think he suspects?' she mouthed.
He shrugged. 'Don't know,' he mouthed back. He wagged his finger at her and let her know through his mischievous expression that he hadn't forgiven her teasing while he was trying to be serious so easily. He walked toward her slowly, like a tiger stalks its prey. She understood exactly what he was about to do and started to crawl backward on the bed in anticipation.
"Robin," she whispered warningly, barely above the sound of the rustle of the sheets as she moved.
He was almost at the bed when she froze. Instinctually, he froze as well and waited, listening for any clue as to what might have alerted her. She looked at the door before he could ask what was wrong.
Robin lowered his head and exhaled. "Yeah?" he called.
"Have you seen Rae?"
His head snapped up and their eyes met so immediately, that she didn't notice her foot had gotten caught on the covers until her back hit the mattress and she had bounced a few times.
"How could I?" he asked, "I've been in my room all day?" He didn't exactly lie, but certainly hedged. The look on her face was so surprised that he would deliberately skirt lying that it made him smile.
"She's not in her room," Cyborg said.
"This is our day off, Cyborg," Robin countered, his eyes glued on her as her legs moved to untangle themselves from the bed. "She's free to do what she wants."
On the bed, she stopped to look at him, eyebrow raised a clearly interested challenge in the mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"But she didn't even take her communicator," Cyborg pressed.
Their eyes met again across the sea of blankets (he already had one leg on the mattress). She shrugged.
"Maybe she doesn't want to be reached," Robin answered. "Besides, if she's doing something else, how likely is it that she'd want to go to the park?" he couldn't help but ask.
Her eyes turned pensive at his words and he shot a question at her which she ignored.
"Right…" Cyborg answered, his tone betraying the disappointment there, "I guess I just figured she'd want to be asked," he finished. Robin turned to see the look approaching guilt on her face as she looked at the door. He knew she could feel whatever it was Cyborg was feeling on the other side of the door and he was glad when Cyborg spoke again,"If you hear from her…"
Robin met her eyes, "I'll tell her about the park," he assured.
Robin and she looked at each other across the tangled sheets that was almost unrecognizable as his bed and he could see her doubt, her guilt. She sighed. They'd had this discussion before. Whether or not to keep this thing between them secret. It had been her idea to keep it quiet between them. He would have shouted it from the rooftops, but he understood her need for privacy and ultimately, he enjoyed having a part of her that no one else knew about, that was just his and that he didn't have to explain or talk about with anyone. He settled on his haunchesat the edge of the bed, and watched, waiting. He gave her time to decide what to do without the nearness of her tempting him to sway her.And he waited because he knew that if he did, she might come to him. She didn't always come to him, but when she did, he loved to watch her as she crawled across the blankets.
Finally, the echo of Cyborg's footsteps long since faded, she moved slowly, carefully, towards him until their faces were inches apart. Her eyes were on him, but he could tell she was still thinking, still partly wondering... He searched her face for the answer he was practically aching for at this point.
She read the expression in his eyes and smiled. And then, the smile of understanding melted into something else...there was a smugness and a contentness to that smile that spoke volumes about just what she knew her affect was on him. That wouldn't do. He couldn't have her looking as if she were content at seeing the need in his eyes…not if she didn't need him just as much. He would, he knew, work on remedying that.
He kissed her with everything inside of him, transferring his need through her lips and into her, under her skin, until she was clutching him to her as hard as he was holding her to him. When it seemed she could take no more, she fell backward onto the mattress and he followed her, placing his hands on her head to soften her fall. And then, only then, did he break off the kiss and look at her.
"Cyborg says they're at the park if you want to…"
She cut him off by pulling his head down to her lips with a low growl. He gave in to the immediate need to taste her, before pulling away again.
"Will you let me finish my message?" he asked teasingly.
"I don't want to hear it," she told him authoritatively.
"Well," he said, keeping his mouth away from her and tracing, instead, his fingers down the side of her ribcage over the t-shirt she was wearing (his t-shirt) and splaying his fingers across the curve of her hip right where the edge of the t-shirt finished and the tempting elastic band of her underwear began. "If you had brought your communicator maybe I wouldn't have to play messenger boy…"
She raised her hip under his hand and his fingers reflexively pressed against her flesh. She grinned. "Maybe I didn't want to be reached," she echoed. She didn't mention how she couldn't bring her communicator into his room in case it rang and the others could trace the sound to his room. They would eventually talk about it, he knew it and she knew it, but not then. Not that afternoon. That afternoon was for them and they were going to take every bit of it they could.
"You mean you prefer to be here with me than at the park with them?" he asked with false innocence.
She pushed at him until he gave in and she flipped them over so that she was straddling his hips, sitting most of her weight on his legs. She kept her balance with hands pressing on his bare, muscular chest and lowered herself ever so slowly until just the tips of her hair touched his forehead and cheeks. "If you want me to tell you exactly what I prefer, why don't you just ask?" she spoke, pressing her lips to his chest in something much more intimate than a kiss…almost as if she were tasting him.
"Because I rather try to figure it out…"
"Is that so?"
"So," he answered. Her body was a wonderland of softness and warmth and little places that made her react and squirm and sigh and laugh and he loved to take his time as he discovered them all. He let his hands gently trail across the curve of her thigh and slowly upward. She flinched instinctively pulling her body away from his hand buthis fingers played over the porcelain skin on her back right above her waist and she pushed into his touch with a soft exhale. He grinned knowingly and mentally cataloged the location of another one of her ticklish spots. He continued his exploration and trailed his hands a little higher, up under her t-shirt.
"How..." she started and inhaled sharply as he touched the sensitive spot behind her shoulders. He didn't remove the t-shirt...not yet. Her hands flexed and her fingernails left trails on his chest, but she didn't pull away. "...so?" she finished on an exhale.
He met her eyes as his hands caressed her upper back and slid around her shoulders, pushing the white cotton material up and over her shoulders where she helped him thread her arms through the sleeves until it pooled around her neck, hiding her perfect breasts from his view. But that was okay, because he was too busy watching her eyes to be bothered. "Through trial..." he watched as passion darkened her eyes until they were almost blue-black. She kept her hands utterly still on his chest, but her elbows buckled a little before she steadied herself. He loved watching her face as he brought her pleasure and her eyes turned that deep purple of the night sky and as welcoming and warm as crushed velvet. "Lots and lots of and trials."
Her laughter came deep and throaty, the way it came only when she was with him like this and she lowered herself until she was flush against him, "Well, good thing we've got all afternoon, then, isn't it?"
In answer, he kissed her.
- Inspired by "Your Body Is A Wonderland" by John Mayer.
Status: Part XI for It Only Takes A Moment should be up soon. Stay tuned.
Dislcaimers: Don't own 'em, still not making money off 'em, so piss off.
Sooo...whaddya think? Should I delete it off here?