Disclaimer : Teen Titans are not mine, they belong to DC Comics and Warner Bros.
Broken Record moment: Aussie, spelling, slang, word usage is all different. Blarg.
Author's Note: Sequel to Touch. Read that first please. Yes, it's multi-chaptered. Yes, it is already completely written. Yes, you will be getting one a day (lucky sods). Posting will be whenever I bloody well feel like it, but only once every 24 hours. No freebies, no asking for more, any begging will mean a delay in posting, 'coz I'm bitchy. Bribes are welcome.
Also, if you haven't seen it, last weeks episode of Young Justice had Robin doing the rings (thank god for youTube). Complete fangirl squealage from me there. Thanks to the fifteen or so people that contacted me to gush. It was just awesome. Now, writers of YJ, read my brainwaves, bring in Starfire, bring in Starfire.
Big Fat Warning: Quote, "The angst, the death, the gore and blood and stuff" previously missing from Touch. Kater apologises in advance.
In the end, death was silent.
There were no more screams of pain nor begging for mercy. No more sounds of metal crunching on bone, no more wet thuds as the life was beaten out of the broken, misshapen body.
There had been nothing I could do. The floor was cold against my back, but I could not move. Tears fell from my eyes, soaking the black mask across my face. Ragged breathing beside me, also captured, also as helpless as I was.
All my strength, all the power I have at my disposal, and I could not save him. All I could do was watch and pray it would not happen to me next.
Hands grabbed me, tore my clothing. I could not move, the drug they had administered surged through my veins, leaving me paralysed. I could not stop their fingers from pulling at the mask on my face, at tearing the armour from my body.
I was being hoisted, carried by their dirty hands. Cackling laughter filled the air. Jeering and fingers on places I did not want them. It was too dark to see the filthy warehouse we were contained. Chains clanged as they hung from the ceiling. Halos of light swung above me as I was carried through, light to dark, light to dark.
My head lolled and I caught a glimpse of the other, prone body. A flash of black, a scrap of cape, a cracked skull mask, a pool of blood.
The hands carrying me tilted and I crashed to the floor. A face loomed above me.
It was my turn.
A foot kicked me, the pain in my side sharp and my body rolled. A moan tore through the paralysis, echoing from my throat.
Blood. Gore. Mangled parts. Bones crushed to a pulp. Hair ripped from the skull. Broken mask. Torn body.
There were kisses and there were kisses.
There were little pecks, designed to be a quick little kiss, a goodbye, a hello, a prelude to the cessation of the make out.
There were deep, open mouthed hunger, frenzied passionate kisses which involved tongues and teeth and sucking on lips. Often the fervent kind would involve bodies rubbing together, anxious to become as close as possible. Toes would curl, hands clench, breaths would be quick snatches.
There were the in-between, often open mouthed, but not as deep, a little tongue, just enough to taste and tease. Designed to show love and affection rather than lust.
And these were just the kisses that went on the mouth. There were other places. Necks, ears, chest, hands, elbows, cheeks, shoulders. Many places the lips could dance against, each bringing new sensations, new noises.
So many other things to learn. Eyes open, eyes closed. Where appropriate places for hands were. Legs entwined or not. Shifting hips. Fitting noises. When to breathe, when to break away and trail wet kisses to an ear. When to swallow to reduce the saliva produced.
One would think there were many things to learn about kissing. But there was not, the body knows what it wants. It does these things automatically, responding to the partnered movements. Hips shift on their own, hands clench. Breaths would intermingle. There was no guidance, no thinking involved in kissing, there was just the action.
There might be direction, lust buried deep within the abdomen always pushing for more, there might be thought, is this too far, or not far enough, but the body knows. The body responds. The mind just disconnects and there was nothing but you and your partner.
I never realised. I never knew. Kissing was alien to me and yet my body somehow understood. It sang to me, its siren croon requesting more, and now, and oh yes there, and Robin. Deep and primal, something had awoken within me that I never knew existed.
His bed was soft beneath my back, his hands were warm against my skin, his mouth was so hot for me. Different taste and touch and sounds. All new. All wonderful.
How we made it from the training room to his bedroom, carefully avoiding our friends, I do not know. The art of stealth was something I do not do well. I do know that he carried me and lay be down on his bed and fused our mouths together.
Our boots were discarded on the floor. His shirt was gone as was mine, although my bra remains. My skirt was bunched up. Our mouths moved as one, tasting, testing boundaries, savouring. His hips swayed against me, soft undulating movements, gently pressing his heat against my thigh.
We were already further along than we meant to go.
And yet, there was also a line that we would not cross. He does not push for more, I would not ask. He had not placed his hand any lower than my waist, and although he treated my chest with reverence, he did not dip lower. My hands wandered and explored, tracing the scars and the muscles on his back. But like him, I would not cross that line.
The mask was still on.
It was a barrier of its own. As long as he did not remove it, there would be a limit to the things we could do.
Robin gasped, jerking away from me. "Too much," he groaned. "Star, I need to stop."
I panted, my vision cloudy, the need in my belly simmering away, but I understood. Robin shifted down, placing his head against the curve of my neck. My arms stoked up from his back and buried in his hair. I could feel him trying to get himself back under control.
It was empowering to know I could make him lose his control. We have only been doing the dating for the past five weeks, and already most of our making out sessions ended this way.
"Okay," he said and kissed the little peak of breast slipping from beneath my bra. "Another thing we can scratch off the list. No more jujitsu practice."
I pouted. "We are running out of training exercises we can do together."
"This'll settle down soon," Robin said. "We'll find a balance."
"Are you certain?" Although I did not mind this desperate need for him, it would be nice to occasionally complete a training session together.
Robin gave a breathless chuckle. "Nope. But I'm hopeful." He nuzzled me then sighed, rolling completely away. A slight repositioning and he was lying by my side, his head on the pillow by mine. He reached down between us and took my hand, weaving our fingers together. I smiled and closed my eyes, tilting my head until it rested against his.
"You're amazing," Robin told me.
"As are you," I replied.
There were little kisses, light brushes against skin. Mostly we just relaxed and lay beside one another It was peaceful to lie beside Robin, the after kisses glow made me lethargic. I loved the scent of his bed, so wonderfully Robin, and the feel of his body pressed against his side lulled me in ways I cannot express. I felt safe and warm and treasured. Robin's lips pressed against my temple, little pecks before he sighed contently.
I did not mean to sleep. Especially not on a bed, lying the human way. Human pillows had an odd way of creating comfort, I could see why they used them now. It helped me sink toward that restful sleep more. Perhaps Robin stroking my arm also had something to do with how quickly I fell asleep, I do not know.
The next thing I did know was I was being gently roused from sleep with an empty space beside me and voices in the room.
I ran my hand over the space beside me, it was still warm, Robin had only vacated it recently. I turned my head and blinked open my eyes. The room was dark, night had fallen while I had dozed. I could see the stars through the window. Robin sat at his desk, his face illuminated by a black laptop computer I had never seen before. He was dressed again, sans boots, his hair immaculate.
I could just make out the voice echoing through the speakers of the computer and while I could not see the screen, I recognised the voice. We all knew that voice.
I did not mean to listen, but Robin rarely speaks to the Batman. I was curious and wrongly so. But Robin had opened the computer while I was in the room, he understood the possibility that I would wake. Surely that alone was reason enough to listen.
"I need you here," Batman said. It was hard to judge Batman's emotions, his stoic tone is more even than Raven's.
Robin shook his head. "I have a different life now."
"But you're still connected. You're still part my life. There are responsibilities."
Robin frowned. "Because you won't let me go."
"There are other reasons I've asked you to come. There's your parents estate to deal with. You've been stalling with that, the legal department is getting anxious. Alfred wants to see you. I'd like a chance to assess your training, it's been well over a year since you were here last for any length of time."
Robin sighed. "Okay. Fine. A week, that's all I'll give you."
"I need more time than that."
"It's the wrong time to come for any longer than a week," Robin said and ran his fingers through his hair.
"It's always the wrong time."
"Yeah, but Starfire… she…" Robin opened and closed his hands as he looked for something to say.
"I see," was Batman's stony reply. "Do we need to have the talk?"
"No!" Robin said immediately, jolting in his chair. "God, no. You're a little late on that front."
"Are you using protection?"
Robin choked and went an interesting colour. "What? No!"
"Really? Little dangerous, don't you think?"
"I'm not having sex with her!"
"Why not? You're eighteen. Having trouble with the little dickie—"
Robin groaned and covered his face with his hands. "Don't make me hang up on you."
"Ahh, my boy, all grown up and becoming a man. I'm so proud. Just don't get too attached."
Robin removed his hands from his face and huffed. "How about you don't give me love advice, Mr Playboy of the Century. Thanks. Can we get back on topic?"
"I would like six months, but I'll settle for eight weeks. At least."
Robin shook his head. "Two."
"You missed a week."
Robin sighed. "So did you, we both know it was going to end at four. Let's cut the crap."
I was concerned. Although Robin often went back to Gotham, it was never for this long. Nor did I remember the call ever coming from Batman, usually Robin went back to Gotham on personal business related to his guardian. Robin made no secret of the death of his parents, although he would not share their names, but we still did not know this elusive guardian. Beast Boy's 'crack theory' was that it was Batman himself. Cyborg would laugh at that, saying that the man did not have a paternal bone in his body. Robin would not say anything.
"Can the Titans last that long without you?"
"Of course they can. Cyborg's a very competent leader. They'll be fine."
Robin paused. I shut my eyes in case he was looking over here. "We're not joined at the hip, you know. She'll be fine," he said tartly. "Although, it'd go a lot smoother if I could tell her—"
I peeked through my eyelashes.
"No. You'll need to leave your communicator behind again. I don't want them 'accidently' tracking you."
Robin leant forward, resting his elbows on the desk and his head in his hands. "That's crap and you know it. I trust the Titans."
"What about my judgement? Do you trust that?"
There was silence. "Occasionally."
"Thanks for the support."
"I'll pick you up tomorrow."
Robin jerked his head up. "That soon?"
"The need is urgent."
"Give me until noon at least. I need time to prepare."
Another brief pause. "Very well."
Robin sighed and closed the computer with a snap. Sighing again, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, Star."
My eyes widened and my breath caught in my throat.
Robin leant over and switched on the lamp on his desk. "Say something, please."
I sat up, swinging my legs over the side of Robin's bed. "You are leaving?"
"He's been asking me for a while," Robin replied, studying the wood of his desk. "I never thought he was serious."
"That did not answer my question."
Robin nodded, his face still turned away. "I need to."
"Can you tell me why?"
Robin dropped his head. "I wish I could."
"They are important, these things Batman wishes your help with?"
"He does not request your help lightly."
"No, he doesn't."
"Then you should go."
His head jerked around to me. "You don't mind?"
I gave him a weak smile. "Of course I mind. I will miss you. But that should not stop you from going. Not when you are needed."
He crossed the room to kneel at my feet, placing his hands on my knees. "It's only for a little while. We've been apart for longer."
I brushed my fingers through his hair. "We can talk each day, can we not? Even if you cannot use the communicators, you could call me on the computer, yes?"
"Every day," he promised.
I nodded. "Then I should go. You will need time to prepare."
He gripped my knees. "Stay," he said. "Spend the night with me."
My jaw dropped. "Robin…" I began, then shook my head. "I do not think—"
"Not like that," he said. "I just want to hold you. Please stay."
I considered him, and then nodded. "Okay."
Robin gave me one of his shirts to wear to bed, it was long sleeved and white, and I had not seen it before. It skimmed down to the level of my skirt once I had all the buttons done. He politely turned his back while I changed. I watched him out the corner of my eye as he undressed, leaving only his green pants on. When he turned around, the look he gave me smouldered.
"I like you in that," he told me as we climbed back into his bed.
"Good, I plan on keeping it while you are gone."
Robin chuckled. I rolled onto my side to face him and he ran his hand over my rump. "I'll miss you," he said.
"I shall miss you too."
I would not cry. I would not cry. It was only for a month. We had only just started our relationship. We could handle a month of separation.
He kissed me lightly, reached over to turn the light off, then wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me very tight.
Author's notes: Yes. I'm doing that. Yes, I'm splitting them this early too. Point, I originally planned this arc for Touch and never had them kiss. Then on a whim, Robin totally made me complete the kiss after the tickling in Touch and Kater swore she'd disown me if I didn't let it happen. This arc then didn't fit the sweetness of Touch, time for a new story. That's why Masks is a different genre. If you want cutsey touchy feely goodness, go back read Touch. If you want drama and action and angst, stay here. Strap yourselves in; it's going to be a bumpy ride.