BBRae Week 2018 - Day 1: Can't Help Falling in Love with You
Neither one of them gave it much thought, really. It was something you couldn't put a date and time on; one of those things that always happen while you aren't looking, like a tree branch budding and blooming overnight into a wonder of warm hues come the morning.
Even so, it was there all that time, in plain sight for anyone that bothered to observe a bit more carefully. They always worked well together, looking after each other and watching each other's backs. And while she often had to roll her eyes at his antics and he had to frown in irritation at her jabs, they continued in their mutual spiraling orbit, staying close together during combat, while training and in the hours of relaxation.
Slow and ponderous it rolled on, as imperceptible and unstoppable as a glacier conquering a mountain. Small wonder it was, then, that no one really noticed Raven leaving her quarters more and more often to curl up with a book on the couch while Beast Boy and Cyborg played their endless video games competitions, taunting and teasing each other. The loud sound effects and the even louder shouting of the two boys annoyed her at first, but instead of simply retreating to the dark and peaceful silence of her room she learned to tune it out and drift off into the fanciful world of her fiction while absorbing the sensation of joy and satisfaction flowing from the green-skinned youth. Not that she was aware of it; she would scoff and vehemently deny the mere notion that she felt a need to be near him, even as her soul floated contentedly on the gentle swells of his emotions, swayed and rocked and lulled into calm and tranquility like a child in a crib.
Interestingly enough, Garfield did notice something odd was going on. Whenever she glided noiselessly in, snuggled quietly on the couch and silently began reading he felt a warm and tingly rush that spread from his belly first to his loins and then to the rest of his body, heating his skin and tickling the little hairs on the back of his neck and the tips of his fingers and toes. But he never connected the two phenomena, at least not consciously and not for a while.
Sometimes he would shift a little while playing, and for some reason it would always move him nearer to her. Sometimes she would also wriggle to get more comfortable, and somehow it would bring her closer to him. A good observer would've noticed a correlation there; the more keyed-up with his game Garfield was, the farther away Raven would sit.
Well, Garfield wasn't what one would normally consider observant. But the fact did burrow and worm itself into his head, steeping and percolating slowly inside, slipping like a small fish through the net of his rationality to swim contentedly across the deep expanses of his subconscious mind. It made him reach for the remote and reduce the volume as soon as she'd show up; his taunts would become quieter and his laughter more subdued. Not even Cyborg noticed. He failed to pay any attention the first couple of times it happened, and by then it had turned into normal, everyday behavior. The days strung themselves out into a long necklace of weeks while the two grew comfortable with the new routine, even as they inched closer every day.
As Garfield's subconscious learned her habits it adapted his behavior appropriately with what could only be described as a Pavlovian reflex. Even when focused completely on the game, the sweet wisps of her scent and the quiet rustle of turning pages would make him feel tired and cramped, and he would drop the controller with a grumble to morph into a large green cat and stretch mightily, then curl into a soft, furry-green ball and doze away, only the tip of his tail and his ears twitching every so often.
Raven reacted predictably. His satisfied calmness, now unpolluted by the aggressive excitement of the competition, pulled at her with a magnetism that was as invisible and impalpable as it was irresistible. They continued to migrate slowly closer, a nail's breadth every day, as if they were carried on subducting tectonic plates, eerily slowly but utterly inescapably. When his soft fur finally touched her thigh it was as natural as it was unsurprising; during the next couple of weeks they nestled closer and closer, seeking and enjoying each other's warmth.
The next milestone in their relationship wasn't that long in coming - relatively speaking, of course. One day Raven's hand lifted, turned the page, and instead of returning to rest in her lap as usual, sank its fingers gently into the soft fur behind his ears and began scratching with a tender absentmindedness. The wonderful feeling of her fingers' caresses was just as satisfying to him as his deep, contented purring was pleasant to her.
Days turned into weeks that braided into months. No one, least of all the two of them, ever considered that anything strange was going on. It became a routine, no less pleasant for being one, and the only changes it suffered was in the type of animal Gar would morph. He experimented a little, noting through slight changes in the pattern of her heartbeat and her breathing and the rhythm of her affectionate scratching which form was most agreeable for her. He could sense her mood and change his shape accordingly, from cat to dog to otter to rabbit, and in some cases even into a large lizard.
In the end it was his impulsiveness that sealed their fates, on a particularly relaxing evening after several demanding missions. The pizza was well-deserved, and so was Robin's recognition of Garfield's contribution. His purr was a deep rumble that day, and his joy brought out a small, unnoticed smile on Raven's lips.
But he didn't miss it. He unfolded from his curl, stretched and hopped onto her lap, meowing softly. She lowered the book and regarded him with a puzzled look. He lifted himself on his hind legs, leaned on her with his forepaws for support and ran a dry, raspy, affectionate tongue over her cheek.
Raven blinked. For a moment she remained motionless, then her eyes went down, looking at something. He followed her gaze and froze in sudden fright.
He looked up. Her smile was still there, but her eyes were deep and inscrutable. One eyebrow slowly rose. He gulped and looked at his forepaws again. Completely by accident, they had found the needed support on a certain soft, warm and convenient feature of her body. More precisely, on her chest.
Cats can be very quick when frightened.
A split second later, Gar was peeking anxiously from beneath the couch, his mind blanketed by successive waves of panic and self-recrimination. He heard a dry chuckle and risked a glance at her.
"It's okay, Gar," she smiled reassuringly down at him. "I know you didn't do it on purpose."
He crawled out from under the couch, ears flat against his head and belly scraping the floor in meek submissiveness, a shamed whine requesting her forgiveness. She shook her head and patted the couch beside her.
"Come on, I'm not angry. There's nothing to fear or be ashamed of."
He jumped back on the couch and sat beside her, watching her carefully, still uncertain, his tail swishing behind him nervously. Her smile widened, she placed the book beside her and offered him her hands.
Haltingly he placed his paws on her palms and she lifted them, pulling him up until his head was level with hers.
"This way it's a bit less comfortable, I realize that, but it's also less awkward." Her smile migrated slowly to one half of her face. "What was it that you wanted to do?"
He turned back into himself, sitting beside her and holding her hands. He grinned and tilted his head, bringing it closer and landing a small, tender kiss on her lips.
For a second he hovered there, waiting for her reaction, knowing what it would be. He felt no fear or shyness or doubt; it was long in the making and far in the coming and they were both completely comfortable with it, even if it was the first time any of them kissed someone.
She cocked her head slightly and her lips parted, covering his own. His arms slid around her and her hands pulled him closer. Their kiss deepened and went on for quite a while, without giving any sign of stopping soon.
"Fifty bucks, Boy Blunder!" Cyborg chuckled as he watched fondly his two adopted little siblings. A grinning Robin dug a hand into his utility belt, pulled out a bill and slapped it on the outstretched metallic palm.
"Worth every penny!" the leader of the Titans smirked. "I thought it would take them longer."
The pair on the couch broke their kiss and turned to look at them. Beast Boy managed to stick his tongue out at his chuckling friends before Raven lifted an irritated eyebrow and waved her hand. A black vortex swallowed the freshly formed couple, leaving the couch free for the two grinning boys to sit, their hands reaching for the game controllers.
"Longer, shorter, doesn't matter!" Cyborg laughed while shrugging. "Those two were made for each other!"
"No way they could help it!" the Boy Wonder agreed mirthfully, then rolled his eyes. "Can you imagine the reaction when Star finds out?"
They both laughed uproariously, then focused on the extremely loud game, enjoying the peace and quiet while it lasted.