The walk on to the Pereqod was much more spirited than the walk off. No one felt like talking, well everyone except for Huntress- who you still couldn’t discern was purposely trying to get a rise out of Nightwing or just did it by being herself. She reminded you of Grace in that she could be stubborn, confrontational, and impulsive at times. But where you learned to accept Grace and even trust her just as you did with the rest of the Outsiders, it had been 2 months since Huntress had replaced Roy and you still couldn’t get along with her. In fact right now you absolutely hated her. She continued to pluck at the mistakes of the day like a virtuoso at the blame game. Her words could roll easily off your back but what really stung was when Dick finally gave him and started firing back at her. Their body language was full of restraint, words biting, faces inches from each other and tension in the room could be cut through with a knife. The sexual tension, that is. You heard Rex make a comment about a keeping the foreplay behind doors and you picked up your pace, eager to leave the sounds of the fighting behind.
The hangar wasn’t as nicely laid out as Titans tower was but few places could be. You walked, dejected in more instance than one, to the showers. While most just went back to their rooms you were distantly aware of the shudder of the pipes as other spouts were turned on. You stood mute under the spray for a couple minutes, slowly coming back to life under the pile of guilt. You never could move on quickly from a failed mission even after the probable hundreds you had been on. The rough surface of your washcloth pinkens your skin while your insides stay cold and numb, the sinking feeling in your stomach had yet to dissolve. The warm water does nothing to release the tension in your muscles and you’re massaging your lower back, trying to untangle the knots when another pair of hands take up the task.
You gasp and quickly whip your head around the room, no less on edge when you see no one.
“Don’t worry, I bolted it. They’re all off in their rooms anyways,” Dick said, loud enough to almost make it seem like he was asserting his point.
“Okay,” was all you said. You didn’t move, but the stress in your muscles just seemed to be worse. When his hands moved to your shoulders the movement just moved your whole torso awkwardly, uncomfortably.
He stops and his hands just drift down to your waist, where they are no more welcome but at least they aren’t trying to relax you and failing miserably. “You’re not blaming me either, are you?”
“Not for this one.” He sighed.
“Tell that to Huntress.”
Something twists painfully in your stomach. “If you’re gonna talk about her you can’t stay in here with me.” You don’t give him time to respond before you’re moving his hands from your waist and stepping away from him and further into the stall.
He doesn’t take pause and continues “Believe me, I can’t stand her either. Roy must’ve been out-“
“Be quiet Dick. I don’t wanna hear it,” you snap. You cats a cursory look over your shoulder, seeing him for the first time all day. Maybe even a couple of days. You half expect him to throw up his arms and leave, something that would be more in line with his attitude lately. However, he seems to gauge your expression before acquiescing with a look.
You hug yourself self consciously and suddenly aware of how vulnerable you are. Being naked without the context of sex has you feeling uncomfortably on display, however he doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to you. He’s got his head titled up the spray and idly you watch the water cascading over his tanned skin, following its path down the column of his throat and continuing their path down his toned chest. Despite your discomfort you realize with slight shame that the sight of him is turning you on. Heat pools in your stomach to watch beads travel over his abs and cling to the tangle of thick hair at the base of his cock.
You avert your eyes as he moves the hair from his face. He picks up your discarded body wash and clears his throat before speaking.
“Is that why you’ve been so on edge recently?”
“Pot, kettle,” you mutter darkly.
“We’re not talking about me right now.”
“No but we are talking about her, still,” you say through gritted teeth. You wish he would just leave, or fuck you and then leave. And yet he just fixes you with a ‘get-serious’ look, as if this is the time and the place. It hasn’t been the time and the place to have a conversation with him about anything serious apart from missions since Donna died.
He had been distant and aggressive, never having a good word to say and was never around to say much else. It had given you the courage to finally talk back to the man that had been your leader for nearly four years. And rather than coming to any sort of resolve, your argument ended with your hand fisted in his hair and him pounding deep into you, making you see stars. Now things were even more open-ended than ever but while fighting with him never ended happily, these intense trysts had. Even now your compulsion is to reach out for him, shake him, and sink your claws just for any sort of reaction. But you wondered if you could even provoke one anymore with Huntress around. The reaction she elicits in him eclipsed all feeling you had ever brought forth in him, good or bad. And her beauty made you a sad sport in compassion. You were just an old teammate who made a convenient fuck.
“I didn’t come here to argue with you,” he says pointedly.
“No, of course not. You would be showering with Huntress if you wanted to argue.” You turned to face the wall again, you still felt vulnerable but now your hands were balled into fists at your side, hating every single tile in your eye line.
“What is that supposed to mean?” His tone has hardened and you can hear that he’s no longer moving.
“Grace was taking bets the other day, you know.” You take a deep breath. “She said by the end of the month. Rex thinks before next payday.”
He’s silent for a couple beats, “I hate to disappoint.”
“I don’t think you will.” You sniff angrily. “I bet the end of next week.”
“Why would I wanna fuck her. I hate her.” His tone is barely controlled, demeaning and spitting through gritted teeth. Jealously, shameful and not at all well-placed, surges through you.
“You used to hate me.”
“I never hated you, I just found that I like your mouth when its doing something other than yelling at me.”
Something about the sarcasm in his tone made you snap. You round on him but can’t bring yourself to look at anything other than the floor, afraid of what he might see when your face was bared to him. So instead you direct your hurt to the drain, letting your sentiments sink with the suds. “Stop playing with me Dick. It’s obvious the two of you have something, it’s fine. We had our fun.”
Your heartbeat in your ears was louder than the water from the shower and every second that passed without comment felt eternal. You wondered if it would be better to squeeze past him or wait for him to leave, whether it would be better to hear his assent or to leave it unsaid.
“You see the two of us at each others throats, screaming in each others faces, and think that this is anything like the two of us?”
“I-I don’t know. I guess.”
“She’s reckless, rash and takes joy in getting a rise out of people. As soon as Roy is ready for combat again she’s off the team, and that day can’t come soon enough as far as I’m concerned. Now will you finally believe me?”
You’re still processing this pseudo-declaration when you see his hand come into your line of vision and allow it to seize your chin and tilt your head to look into his eyes. Before he can move any closer you say a soft “stop”. He squares his jaw, eyes filled with injustice, and regretfully drops his hand.
“I just can’t understand why it’s me,” you ask softly.
“What do you mean?”
“If fighting with me can turn into sex then whats to stop you from doing that with other people? Why me and not her too?”
He rakes a hand through his hair angrily and looks at you, eyes blazing. “Because I don’t /want her/ I want you, how many different ways do I have to spell that out?”
You’re silent for a long moment.
Just a small step closed the space between your bodies but as soon as you entered his space the air thrummed with electricity. You snaked a hand around his waist and felt the muscles on his back ripple under your hand, taut as he reached for you in return and loose as soon as you were in his arms. You grabbed a fistful of the wet strands of his hair and pulled at the base of his roots; butterflies in your stomach burst to hear the groan it elicited. You would make the same motion again only to savor the fact that your harsh touch could be welcomed by him and could even cause him to come undone. It was power you didn’t know you had but would be exciting to test. His mouth moves hot on yours, intense and fervent. Your toes curled when his tongue entered your mouth. It slid against yours sweetly. In comparison his hands were rough, yanking the meat of your thigh around his waist and squeezing the tender skin. He pushed the two of you into the stall divider and you gasped as it shook under your combined weight.
His body is wet and warm causing your grip on him to be that much more desperate. But that isn’t the only wet and warm thing you notice, you core pulses in desire when he grabs your other thigh and hoists your leg around his waist. Your grip on him tightens as you leave the ground but soon turns slack as one of his hands drifts between your thighs. You moan into his mouth as his tongue swipes alongside yours and his fingers brush your wet folds. The pads of his pointer finger tease your entrance while he moves to scrape the edge of his teeth along your neck, causing you to gasp. You expose the pulse point of your neck to him, the unblemished skin soon turning red and irritated as he sucks harshly on the sensitive area.
“Dick,” you whine as his finger pumps lightly into you.
“You gotta let me have my time with you. I think I’ve earned that much.”
The thought was enough to make you whimper and concede but the need between your legs protested. Your nails dug into his back as a stroke hits particularly deep into you. He smiles against your neck and repeats the motion; you keen in want and frustration.
“Patience dear, its a virtue.”
“Shut up.” You grabbed a fistful of hair and planted a searing kiss to his mouth. All teeth and tongue and desire and delirium. He moans, loud and primal, as you suck harshly on his bottom lip.
You give it a sharp tug that earns you a harsh slap on the ass. The pain shocks you, but not as much as the rivets of heat that pool in your stomach. He teases the plump skin, kneading it in his hands and fully enjoying it judging by the arousal in his eyes.
“You give as good as you get, Grayson?”
“You’re not gonna find out. At least not today.” To your disbelief he winks before giving you a harsh smack again. His pointer finger hits deeper in you and you can feel his middle finger curl around your lips, tease your folds with featherlight touches, before lightly hitting your walls. Your cunt clenches, desperate for something more satiating. You knew he must be impatient as well as his cock ground against you, hot like a steel brand, and suddenly the spray from the shower was cold in comparison to the heat between your bodies.
He bares down on you with heavy lidded eyes as your narrowed in frustration. You were half afraid that you punishment was still coming- that any second he would lower you the ground and leave you dripping from the shower and from in-between your legs. You were stuck between two options: pulling a pout and seeing how far it got you or something more forceful that involved your teeth and the sensitive lobe of his ear. Before you could properly weigh your choices his finger found your clit. You threw back your head in a silent moan, exposing your throat to more hot ministrations from his tongue. You tried to encourage him but your words came out garbled as he circled your clit with a single fast motion.
“Close already?” He teased.
“No, I-“ you tried to protest but couldn’t get the words out as he started finger-fucking you in earnest. One finger circled you clit at a relentless pace while the other thrust in and out of you, not enough to fill you like you knew his cock could, which just made you all the more infuriated. You could feel his length as it slowly ground against your ass and wished to feel its girth stretching out your walls. You knew the exact right way to position your hips to get it to bump your clit the way you liked. You loved riding him for this reason, and because he was under /you/ for once, wheedling for his own release and latent pleasure totally on display. But in this moment you were totally at his mercy and he knew it. He had a grin like the Cheshire Cat and no single moment of pleasure or decibel of noise you made could escape him. As you felt your release building your noises became more erratic and high, his expression turned more focused and hungry. He licked his lips with his eyes trained on your face. He captured your mouth in a sloppy open-mouthed kiss that only stopped when you writhed against him, your release turned painful in its imminence.
You knew it was coming but still could’ve cried when he removed his hand. He moved it to brace it on the top of the divider and repositioned you against him with his other hand. With a light gasp from him and a barely contained groan from him, his leaking dick was suddenly throbbing against your stomach. He realigned your hips together and positioned his tip against your entrance.
Your head makes painful contact with the shower divider as he enters you, you both moan and then meet again for a kiss. The divider shakes with each well-placed thrust of his hips. His relentless pace hits deeper and deeper, causing you to dig your nails into his back and cut off the sloppy kiss with soft grunts. His kisses are feather-light compared to his other places of contact: a tongue swipes the edge of your chin and then along your clavicle. His warm breath becomes nuzzled in your neck- such a small dapple of sunlight that makes you pause in the moment. Each hot exhale against your neck fills you with such warmth, each pulse of his hips details his truth. It’s you, you you you.
His thrusts become less rhythmic and more disordered, varying in deepness. His breaths become less possessive and more desperate. You grasp at his hair with a particularly deep thrust and your own pleasure becomes imminent.
He meets your eyes with a smile that could make you sing, “you really love the hair, huh?”
“Shut up,” you grin back. “You just love a leash.”
For that you get a ringing slap on the bottom, one that increases the heat in your core ever more. Molten lava could seep out of you at this point.
“Close?” You can only nod as he picks up the pace.
Each thrust accompanies a groan as he nears the edge. The target for his lips slips out of focus as he kisses your cheek, the corner of your eye, below your lip, and finally your clavicle as he lets out a long groan with his release. There is no time for him to bask, you whine wordlessly until his fingers find your clit and within seconds you find your release as well.
The two of you pant with victory; hungers satiated and questions answered. He sets you down but leaves you boxed in, back agains the somehow-still-intact-divider. His gaze attracts yours and for once you see emotion reflected in them.
“You could use a shower.”
You practically wheeze a laugh and can only manage a light slap to his shoulder.
“Let me help you, honey”
You seal the offer with a kiss.