Howdy :),
It's been a good five years since I've posted some Teen Titans stuff, besides the other day. I came across the beginning of this little piece this morning and decided to add to it.
Low and behold, a new Teen Titans Story.
I'm not sure how it went, but I'll leave that for you to figure out :). Please, R and R :).
Disclaimer: I don't own any of it!
P.S: Robin is called a bazillion different things in this, well, more like 3. So please bear with me, until I get comfortable with calling him the same name.
Full Summary: Robin, now known as Nightwing, has found himself in a mess that's bigger than he's willing to admit. On a quest to find his old team mates, he hopes to reconcile their differences in order to clean up this mess. However, he finds himself falling for an ex team mate, who happens to be taken. Robin-Nightwing/Raven/Red X.
Enjoy!
Reconcile
Chapter One: Discovered
A strong hand softly slid down the small crevasse between her soft and squidgy breasts. Soft and smooth, skin that was as pale as porcelain. Deep brown eyes met purple ones and ecstatic smiles were exchanged. Suddenly warm lips pressed against the skin covering her sternum. She slowly let her head fall backwards, vertebrae by vertebrae. Her eye lids slid shut and a light gasp of air escaped her as the wetness of his tongue was now touching her skin. Time moved in slow motion. She could feel his lips slowly, inch by inch moving closer to the nape of her neck. She could only imagine the sly smile tugging at his lips and the ravenous passion he was holding back. He was rough and she loved it. The way he could switch from soft and gentle to rough and pounding within a moment excited her to no end. He was spontaneous and that was something she didn't possess. She craved the way in which he lived his life.
His lips were now just under her jawline, threatening to attack. Without warning, the lips moved downward, sucking the precious and sensitive skin at the top of her black jeans. She was startled, and flinched slightly as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She could feel his anticipation. He wanted to fuck her bad – and she loved it. She loved the way they switched the power roles. He made her feel like she was the queen of the world by the way he adored her. However, the surprise when he would quickly snatch back the power made her swoon like a groupie over a rock star.
"Mmmm," he moaned dark and low, from underneath her jaw. His hands were up and down her back, gripping at her skin tightly.
Her delicate hand roughly brushed through his dirty blonde tresses and that only amped him up more. The kisses became more frequent and more aggressive. His hands reached for the top button of those gorgeous black jeans, but that move was short lived. The black aura of her telekinetic power surrounded his strong hands. He struggled against it, but still kissing that beautiful soft and supple skin of her lower hip. She chuckled, as she took the power from him once again. She opened her eyes and looked down at him with that sultry face. His eyes widened, feeling that hot and heaviness grow within him. Fuck, she was such a turn on. He moaned as sucked on the precious skin above that damned black fabric that was blocking his strongest desire.
In a surprise attack, his body was thrust backward onto the black sheets. Her warm body was now on him. She grinded her hips against his.
"Fuck!" He growled, feeling her hands touch that bubbled skin of his chest. His hands went straight for her arse and he gripped both cheeks tightly.
Her soft finger tips swiftly followed the demented skin. It was bubbled, raised and warped – into the shape of a giant asymmetrical X. Her lips dived onto his abs, creating this incredible silhouette that reminded him of a lioness ripping apart her prey.
"Jesus!" He almost shouted, as his hands wrapped around her waist.
Suddenly she stopped, as if she were struck by some magical force. She pushed his raging hands away and rolled off the chiselled man into a cross-legged position.
"Babe?" he called softly afraid that he had done something wrong. He pulled himself up a little and let his body weight rest on his elbows.
She frowned. "Someone's here."
There was a knock at the door.
He let the big drops of water hit his face. There was no point in blocking the rain now. He was already getting wet. His brow knitted together in anxiety. He hoped that this was the right place. Well, he considered as he looked at up at five story old school brick building, he had nothing to lose.
He stepped under the cover of the small canopy above the door. He pressed his shoulder against the glass door and it swung open. He stepped inside onto the polished floorboards. He took a moment to gather himself, well, mentally anyway, physically he looked awful, thanks to the rain and there was nothing that could be done about it. Shit. His mind wondered. What the fuck would she say? He hadn't seen her – let alone talked to her in five years. Would she still be the same? Have the same bleak outlook on life… That same striking face… Those same purple eyes – he paused. Fuck.
"Jesus Christ," he cursed out loud this time.
Why did he feel so guilty? Why did he feel like the bad guy? The dead beat loser. The kid that had no friends. Why did he feel exactly the way his mentor had felt? He looked down, ashamed, suddenly realising what he had become, someone he tried so hard not to be. Somewhere inside, he was still asking if there might be a small chance that she might have the compassion in her to help an old friend. That's why he was here, wasn't it?
He needed her help. This whole mess was bigger than him. Bigger than he could have ever imagined. And, for the first time in his life he recognised he needed help. If he couldn't solve it when he was younger with a whole team backing him, what made him think he had any chance of solving it now, alone? He smirked. For first time in his life – the notorious Nightwing was asking for help, the kid who was raised to rely on no one but himself. Thanks, he mentally thanked his mentor sarcastically.
He found himself at the brown door number 3. Now or never, Dick, he told himself.
He raised a matured hand and knocked his knuckle against the thick wood three times. He listened. Little movement. Hardly any sound. Silence.
His eyes searched the door urgently. All he wanted was for it to open, to reveal that same face. Yet, at the same time he wanted it to stay shut – to prove that everything in his life was right and – the chain shifted.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. His eyes widened, actually scared of what might happen after the moment that door opened. Stop it! He ordered to himself.
The bolt unlocked and he swallowed.
It quickly swung open and he was greeted with the face that turned his world upside down. Fair skin, purple eyes, perfectly shaped brows, long purple hair – there was a few loud shatters of glass and all the lights went out. He smiled a little, at least he knew a little of Raven he used to know was still inside. She still got scared.
His muscled frame hit the wall with a loud thud. He gasped, losing some air from his lungs. He tried to suck in a breath as a strong hand gripped his wrist and twisted it the opposite way it was supposed to go. The pain shot down his arm and he let out a huff in response. An elbow and shoulder grinded right into his back and his face was pressed against the cold plastered wall that was originally behind him. The elbow dug deeper as his arm was twisted upwards slightly. He let out a small yelp of pain as the tip of the elbow caught a pressure point between his muscles. This guy was trained, slightly out of practise, but trained none the less.
"Who are you?" A male voice growled into the young mans ear.
"Jase," the woman called softly, a little further away.
The lights came back on, adding a dim light to the situation. The three figures were now revealed. "Jase, let go," she called again, calm.
The male removed his weight from the other man, and slowly released his grip. The dirty blonde stepped back beside and slightly in front of the woman, apprehensive.
The man stretched his back and jiggled his shoulders. His ocean blues eyes caught her purple ones. His touched his wrist tentatively and locked eyes with the brown orbs next to her. They slightly frowned at each other.
"Richard," the word slipped from her mouth breathlessly.
The brown orbs dropped the frown they were holding. He knows? Dick asked himself. He smiled suddenly. At least she said his name. She kept her gaze on him. His eyes switched from hers to the males, and then back again. The silence was making him feel uneasy. His mind was screaming at him to just go, but his legs wouldn't budge. Both of their eyes were on him, completely entranced, yet also unsure of where to go from here. No one was making any moves and it was getting past awkward now. A minute or two must have passed by now.
He decided to follow his head. He felt the pain in his wrist grow as he turned quickly and began his rushed, embarrassed, disappointed and melancholy walk to the door. Shit, he didn't know what to feel. Suddenly all those emotions were removed. Emptiness suddenly filled the void, well didn't fill it really, it made a void to be more correct. His mind was tangled in a clutter – he felt a strange feeling come over him, he stopped in his tracks. Against his own will he turned to face the two adults still standing at the entrance of the apartment.
"Come in," Her voice echoed through the silence, bouncing off the walls of the dead apartment block.
She vanished, but the male, 'Jase', as she had called him, still stood there, eyeing him off hesitantly. Dick cautiously made his way back to the door. He looked at 'Jase', who didn't have a shirt on, and who was slightly ripped in the abdomen department. 'Jase' didn't move. Dick bit his lip as he slid past the man, slightly taller than him, but of the same build. He was a tough cookie.
He almost smiled as he took a quick glance around the apartment. It was so her. So Raven. It was decorated though, not as gothic as he remembered her room to be. That 'Jase', obviously had some input in the design. Dark floor boards covered the cement floor, whilst black and white tiles decorated the kitchen, from what he could see. They had kept the old brick work for the walls, variously decorated with very old style paintings that were of her genre. It was decorated with modern furniture, black leather couches, a sleek 80 inch plasma television, a white shag rug, glass dining table and very stainless steel and sleek kitchen. He hadn't picked Raven for a modern type. He assumed it was this 'Jase' character again.
She was already sitting at the glass dining table, he eyes looking intently at him. He slowly and graciously made his way past the lounge and to the table to sit opposite her. Jase had shut the door and followed him in, only to sit at the head of the table.
It was time for him to make this less awkward. "Raven," he smiled, looking directly at her.
She smiled too. "It's been a long time, Dick," she commented.
He nodded as that guilty feeling chewed away at him. It had been way too long. Five years to be exact. Five years since he had seen, talked or heard from her. The team hadn't exactly split up on the best of terms.
"It has," he agreed. "Your place is.. gorgeous," he had trouble finding the right words, as he took another quick look at the apartment.
She kept the smile. "Thanks," She replied genuinely.
He wondered how she could afford such a generous place. He didn't mean for it to sound like that. She did receive a generous pay out when the Titans did eventually split, but he couldn't image her spending all her money to buy, he supposed, as it seemed as if she did decorate it herself, and custom design an upper suburb apartment. She looked to Jase, who looked.. still hesitant.
He had to admit, her partner was rather attractive – for a male. He didn't like to sound gay, but this man was visually pleasing. He had dirty blonde hair which was rather shaggy and deep brown eyes that were quite serious for a man of his age, which was young, Dick guessed again. He had a strong, wide set jaw, with chiselled cheek bones that created a small shadowed hollow on either side of his jaw.
He turned his attention back to her. His face was blank as he stared at her. She had grown, somewhat, since he had last seen her. Her hair was longer and darker than he expected, and was slightly messy, cascading over one shoulder. She was still pale, but not that sickly pale that he remembered her for. She looked more beautiful than he ever remembered too.
She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to explain his presence, or to at least say something. Dick licked his lips. "I'm sorry," he blurted out, trying to somehow explain himself for what happened in the past.
She obviously didn't take to the apology as her face was still blank. She wasn't sure herself if she was ready to forgive what happened when the Titans crumbled. A lot of things were said and done that were impossible to take back or erase. That's why she came here, with him. Suddenly remembering as if he was there she looked at the blonde, and smiled a little.
"Robi-" she stopped and frowned. She couldn't believe she still had that habit. It had been five years and she still couldn't call him by his real name.
A small tugged at his lips, it made him want to laugh, but he decided against it. "It's Nightwing now," he said stiffly, "but please call me, Dick."
She smiled to herself. She could remember him talking about a new costume and a whole new superhero five years ago. She remembered his goofy designs that continued to make him look like a damn traffic light. She was proud to admit that she had a hand in designing the final 'Nightwing' costume.
He scrunched up another piece of perfectly good paper and tossed it behind him. He sighed in frustration. She almost chuckled at the way he obsessed over stupid things. She failed to contain the chuckle to herself.
He turned his head to face her, a frown on his face. "What are you laughing at?" He questioned her commandingly.
She stopped the laughter, but left the smile. "You trying to design a new costume for yourself," she stated, amused.
Her smile lightened him up a bit. He dropped the frown. "I think I outgrew this outfit a long time ago," he admitted with a sigh, deciding it was time to give his new found non-creative fashion design skills a rest for the night.
"What made you think that?" She questioned sarcastically, with an obviously fake frown on her face.
He smiled, knowing the whole team disliked his costume design. "I think the Traffic colours went out of fashion about 10 years ago," he replied quickly with a light and joking tone.
She suddenly appeared beside him. "I don't think they ever came in fashion, Robin," she mused sarcastically again. They both chuckled, agreeing.
She looked over his shoulder at the design he had just recently penned on the paper in front of him. "You can't get away from the colours can you?" She commented almost disbelievingly.
He snatched the scribbled on piece of paper and scrunched it up again in his hand. "Don't look at my designs," he said, suddenly defensive.
She looked at him, entertained by his childhood antics. "You're like a little child," she commented with a sigh. A black aura surrounded his hand with the battered piece of paper in it. Unwillingly, he uncurled his hand and the design spread out across the table in front of the two.
"Don't.." he trailed off self-conscious, as he watched her gaze at the design.
She put her hands on the paper, staring engrossingly at it. "I think you just need to…" she began, deep in thought. "Make this black," suddenly what was originally red was black, "and this, a darker blue," the small designed shape was now a dark royal blue. "And no cape," she insisted slowly, as if she were talking to a child. The cape vanished.
"Wow."
The memory brought a small tugging smile to the edge of her lips. "Dick," she began properly, correcting her smile, "This is Jason…" she thought about saying the next part, but she wasn't sure. If she didn't say it, Jason would get offended, but then Robin might get a little… "My boyfriend," she blurted out. Too late.
He already guessed that, considering they lived in the same apartment and he had no shirt on. It didn't affect him too much, less than he thought it would. That was a lie, he admitted, noticing the mixed bag of emotions that was now filling him.
"Nice to meet you," Robin tried to be genuinely nice, but it might have failed – he wasn't sure. He nodded in Jason's direction, and put a hand out over the table.
"You too," Jason replied with the same nod, and a firm handshake. He could feel the muscles in the man's hands; nice and tight and firm. There was another meaning behind that handshake, and Dick knew it. Little did Dick know who Jason really was.
He turned his attention back to Raven. "I know it's been… a very long time," he began, a little frightened of what the response might be, "but I need your help."