Okay, so this is my first Teen Titans fic. Hopefully it turned out alright. c:

Just a short little thing, mildly (but obviously) inspired by Some Kind of Wonderful.

"Hey Rae," he called softly, leaning against her door frame and running a hand through his messy blond hair. He watched her patiently as she finished the sentence she was on in her latest novel before rolling off her stomach and sitting on the edge of her bed. She set the book to the side after sliding the bookmark back between the pages, allotting all of her attention on him. "Help me out?"

Her eyebrow raised silently before she stood and ushered him into her room. She could tell from his disposition that it was a request he'd need to explain, so she shut the door behind him and moved him to sit on his favorite of her chairs. She tended to refuse him access to her room, but he supposed the book she sat back next to had put her into a good enough mood. "Start from the beginning."

"Okay, well," he muttered, splaying his hands to tap his fingertips and averting his eyes to the ground. "So, you know Tara, ri-" she cut him off with a loud snort and roll of her eyes, falling back to lay on her bed and stare at the ceiling.

"Yes, I know Tara. She's all you talk about, Gar."

"That's not true," he protested weakly, watching her now even though all he could really see from his angle were her knees and calves. Her sock-clad feet kicked the air mindlessly, and his eyes trailed the motion until she stopped.

Raven sighed, eyes falling down to the left corner of her vision and hands moving to rest behind her head. "What do you need help with?" She asked tiredly, wondering why every time he made a surprise visit it was to discuss Tara. When he did it the first time, she was lounging around with a stack of texts in just her pajama pants and tank top, which had embarrassingly depicted cartoonish images of waffles in bow ties. She was thankful now that she'd gone out this Saturday morning, because she didn't want to discuss Garfield's love life in anything other than jeans and a tee.

"She broke up with him," he uttered finally.

Her eyes slid closed, and she had to swallow down a defeated sigh. "And I suppose Kori wasn't a good source to find out what girls want when you go to ask them out?"

He shifted a little deeper into the bungee chair, toying with a bottle of lotion he'd found on the dresser next to him. It boasted the alluring combination of dark cherry and black raspberry, a scent she'd started using about two months ago now in lieu of her usual lavender. "I didn't ask her because I figured that you'd give less bias advice." She clenched her jaw, breathing slowly out of her nose and opening her eyes to glare at the ceiling. "She'd just use her relationship with Richard for everything."

"Right, whereas I, to forever go unloving, have no prior relationships to bog my opinions down."

"That's not what I meant, Rae, and you know it," he told her with a little bit of anger. "Look, this was a bad idea, I'll just leave." As he stood up to leave, she sighed harshly and sat up, reaching out to tug at his wrist as he walked by. The pull ended him up sprawled across the bed next to her, face buried in her cherry-raspberry scented comforter.

"Don't leave," she murmured, pulling her knees up to wrap her arms around and perch her chin on. Her eyes were cast on the floor, so she heard more than saw him crawl to a seated position beside her. He perched precariously on the ledge with his legs crossed. "I... know how long you've liked her," Raven said without any tone indicative to emotion. "So I'll help."

"Are you sure?" Despite the question, he was smiling broadly already.

She rolled her eyes, swatting him in the shoulder. "Whatever, so when are you asking her out?" His face coloured, and she closed her eyes in disbelief. "Right, so. How about tomorrow?"

"What? Tomorrow when? It's Sunday."

"Her geology class is taking an unofficial field trip to the harbor cliffs tomorrow, and like the dedicated pebble nerd she is she's going." Not that Raven could particularly blame her. With one of her own electives, Creative Writing, she'd partaken in many a trip to the museum. She could only truly judge when a person went on an optional trip that was associated with a core class. Like chemistry. Wally West.

"It's not nice to call people nerds when you are one yourself," he defended, deciding to ignore the fact that she knew where Tara was going to be. He chalked it up to being a trait of an intellect.

She gave him a dry look, letting her legs drop off the side of the bed again. "On the contrary, I find that the most reasonable time to do so." He did respond other than to give her a sour look, and so the two dropped into a comfortable silence. Raven liked the calm, quiet moments between them, which they tended to have quite often considering his generally loud personality. She felt as though with the two of them, words were extraneous. They didn't need to utter a single syllable to just get each other, and it was the most wonderful feeling to her.

It was only a question of whether it felt the same to him.

She angled her head to look at him, chin over shoulder, and he did the same. "You'll have to check the teacher's webpage for the time," she advised. "Get there a half hour later so she can enjoy her sand before you swoop in, and tell her you like to search the rocks for sea life or something."

He blinked at her, in awe of her effortless genius. He never could have thought of that, no matter how seemingly easy it was to conjure. "What then?"

Raven scoffed, shaking her head. "You're hopeless. Ask her about her interests, subtly, and then ask her out accordingly." The blank look he gave her pained her a little. Talking about stuff as pathetic as relationships was annoying enough as it was, but now he had to drag it on. "I heard they were going to film a comic movie on the harbor soon. Oh, you love comic movies, too? That's great! Hey, would you want to go see the Captain Canada movie with me next weekend? Awesome, meet you there."

"It's actually not Ca-"

"Hush," she dismissed, waving her hand at him. "You get my point."

He frowned critically at her, brow furrowing with consideration. "Yeah, about that. How do you know all of this so well?"

Her mouth twisted to one side and she looked resolutely at the wall in front of her. "I read," she told him at last.

His left eyebrow rose so far up it could have gotten lost in the tangle of his bangs. "Romances?"

"No," she stressed immediately, scowling at him. "It's like those stupid hero movies you watch. They're main attraction is the action and fighting, but they have a little romance in them, too."

"I see your point," he conceded with a shrug, turning to watch the wall with her. Eventually she stood up, dragging him with her so she could shove him out the door.

"Go do something with yourself," she instructed before shutting the door in his face.

"Raven!"

Caught unprepared, she jumped in a way that launched her out of her seat. The office chair went spinning away behind her, and she slammed her laptop shut. "What?"

He paused, torso leaning into the doorway while his bottom half was still pressed against the wall to the side. "Um, am I interrupting something?"

"No," she seethed, face twisted in rage.

His features, on the other hand, lit up in glee. "I am, aren't I?" he shouted excitedly. "You were totally writing something other than essays!" It had always been a sneaking suspicion to him that when he saw her typing away at her laptop it was something different, but when she let him check it was always an essay. This time he had her, though, and even if he didn't know what it was exactly, it was certainly something.

"Get out, Gar." Raven walked angrily towards him, completely prepared to move him forcibly from the room and slam the door on him.

He held his hands out defensively. "Wait, I need you."

For some reason her socks seemed to get stuck in place on the carpet, and her face bloomed a wonderful red. "What?"

"Tara said yes, and I don't know what to do now."

"Oh." She tried to ignore the way it felt like somebody behind her had wrenched a knife through her gut.

"And she was giving clear signals that kissing on the first date was one hundred percent okay."

The knife twisted, and she felt like she needed to slide dramatically down a wall or something. "Right," she muttered, allowing just one second of self-pity before pulling him in the room and closing the door behind him again.

"Hey, nice outfit?"

She almost questioned him, but then she remembered. Her eyes widened and her cheeks coloured even worse than before. One look at him and she could tell he was almost as embarrassed as her, with a similar paint to his face and averted eyes. Every now and then they'd flicker over to her exposed legs and his flush would get darker yet. Trying to pull her shirt down over parchment-colour hipsters, she rushed to her dresser and she raided it for a pair of pants.

As she was pulling up the black jeans, she tried to think of anything to dissolve the awkward air between them. Nothing really came up. She stood so that her right side was in his direction, arms crossed resolutely over her chest. From the corner of her eye, she could see him watching the ground and rubbing the back of his neck. Fed up, she pushed her laptop aside and sat on top of her desk. "So what happened?"

"Hmm? Oh. Well, I was smooth as a... um." She shook her head, feeling sorry for how pathetically he was searching for comparison.

"Piece of sandpaper?"

Even though he scowled at her, his shoulders slumped and he fell backwards onto her bed, claiming every inch of it by sprawling all his limbs out. "Yeah, pretty much. Apparently it was cute, though, so she agreed. We're going to the movies tonight, because she's too busy next weekend."

Raising an eyebrow, Raven glanced at her clock to find the hands on the two and five. "It's five ten," she drawled. "When are you picking her up?"

"Six thirty," he moaned, rubbing his hands over his face. "What do I do?"

With a sigh, she tapped her fingers along the edge of the desk. "Take her to the movie, and talk about it over dinner after. She picks, you pay."

He propped himself up on his elbows to watch her. "I meant the kissing."

"Oh. I don't know how helpful I'd be in that department."

"Just," he stared at her intensely, trying to form the words necessary to get his point across. "You know I have no idea what I'm doing. When?"

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and she shifted uncomfortably. "When it seems right?" He frowned, pushing himself up so he could move to stand in front of her. "Listen Gar, it's not as hard as you're making it seem. Just, hold her, and kiss her." Her breath caught as his hands came slowly to rest on the desk on either side of her hips.

His left hand slid further back behind her, bringing him closer and making her eyes widen minimally. She could see him swallow silently, eyes then trained on his mouth as he licked his bottom lip in trepidation. The hand he'd put behind her came up to tuck her short hair behind her right ear, and the sensation of his fingertips on her own skin sent a pleasant chill through her. His palm slid over her shoulder, down her arm, and finally to rest where the hem of her shirt met denim.

Two fingers, middle and index, slid through her belt loop and tugged her a little closer to the edge of the desk. She could feel him now, snug between her thighs. His breath hit her cheek in little puffs, and she had to fight to keep her eyelids open. That particular battle was lost when he finally touched her lips with his. The kiss was tender at first, unsure almost. It seemed as though he was asking her if this was okay, because it was weird to kiss your best friend, wasn't it? Well, she answered, it most certainly was. In both regards. Her hands slid to tug at the hair at the back of his head so she could press her mouth against his more surely.

She could feel his grip on her jeans tighten, and she was pulled closer to him yet. His other hand moved a little, but never touched her in favor of staying on the desk. When he tilted his head a little, she did, too, and the lip-lock became much more intimate. He was a sweet kisser, all lips and gentle touches. She liked it, far more than she should.

All of a sudden he was gone, turned away from her and two steps away. Her hands fell to the desk so she could steady herself, breath officially stolen and returning to her in the smallest of spurts. She wasn't sure what to say, and hoped sorely that he would speak up so she wouldn't have to. She changed her mind when he said what he did.

"You're writing romance?"

One blink and she had launched herself off the table. She gripped his shoulder and turned him around forcefully, face paling when she saw her laptop held in his hands. His eyes were glued to the screen, and she had to swallow thickly to keep from shouting at him. She ripped the tell-tale story from his grip, shoving him forcefully through her doorway. "Enjoy your date," she spat, locking the door behind him angrily.

"Rae, wait!" She ignored him as he pounded at the door, slamming shut her curtains and bathing the room in darkness. It only brought more attention to the bright screen of the laptop, opened to the most incriminating word document she'd ever forged.

It was stupid of her to have given in to the urge. She could have written anything for her stupid short story assignment, and here she was relaying all of her pathetic feelings for her best friend. And it was so obvious, there was no way he didn't know now. A girl, a boy, best friends since middle school. Girl likes guy, guy likes someone else, girl watches on silently, helping even. Guy goes on happily ever after, girl steps aside alone. And that was it.

Maybe she could have played it off as using a cliché, but the entirety of this whole meeting made it painfully clear that it was far more than that. She was smarter than that, she should have known it would end in the worst way to write something like that.

She should have known better than to fall for her best friend.

The entirety of school the next day was spent avoiding him at all costs. How dare he kiss her like that? Without permission, only as practice for Tara. As a ploy to thieve her laptop. She found herself thankful for the fact that the only class they had together was lunch, during which time she hid herself in the furthest depths of the library. A place where not even Gar on a mission would dare travel.

She didn't want to walk to school in the event that he caught her before she could lock herself in her room, but there was no way for her to get a ride. The minute the last bell rang, she booked it out of the building and rushed down the street. What was normally a sixteen minute walk was eight that day. She jogged up the short set of stairs to her porch and grasped the handle to her front door. Something made her stop before pushing the door open, and she bit her lip, casting a glance at his house across the street. It looked almost as lonely as hers.

Once inside, she dropped her bag in the living room and paced up the stairs, closing the door to her room before she was even completely in. Right hand on the knob, fingers locking it deftly, she put both her left palm and her forehead against the painted wood of the door. It took two deep breaths before she was able to calm her thoughts completely, and she relaxed her shoulders before turning around.

He sat lazily on her office chair, elbow on the armrest and chin on his fist. His sinfully green eyes watched her carefully, and maybe a little accusingly. She almost jumped, but she supposed she knew in the depths of her mind that she'd be hard pressed to escape him. "Forget I had last period free?"

Her jaw clenched, and her eyes narrowed. "Get out."

He didn't, and they simply stayed staring at each other until she got annoyed with it.

"Look, I'm sorry. I know, alright? I know how awful it is so can you just leave me alone? Forget about it," she spat resolutely. She watched as he stood, tucking his hands into his front pockets. He shrugged, not looking in the least bit sorry for what he said next.

"I don't want to forget about it."

Anger flared in her immediately following his statement, and she resisted the urge to physically injure him. "Steal my heart, my first kiss, and my laptop. By all means, go ahead. Rub it in. But don't you dare use it against me, Gar."

This time it was him fleshed with anger, and his hands made tight fists. "Is that what you think I'd do, Rae? Use your feelings against you? Broadcast it to the school and call you out for liking a guy so below your league that it hurts me just to think about it?"

"Below?" she asked confused, because it was so far from the truth that it washed away her rage. She was an antisocial bookworm, champion of nothing but chess and friends with a grand total of four people. He was outgoing, close with half the school and member of at least six clubs. He played sports and girls loved him, and he was utterly perfect to even primadonna Tara Markov.

"So, so far below you," he murmured, all of his vexation vanished, too. She shook her head, wondering if this was just another trick. Wondering if it was just Malchior all over again. He noticed. "Listen Rae, I don't know if you could ever tell with you face in a book all day," she scowled at that, opening her mouth to retort when he continued on over her, "but you'd be amazed at the looks you get. Guys literally trip when they're watching you, and the reason all the girls in our grade hate you is because they're jealous of how amazing you are. You're the untouchable deity, Rae, ever notice how people try to talk to you sometimes?"

"Not really."

"That's because you unintentionally ignore them, thanks again to having your face shoved in a book all day, and it becomes somewhat of an honor to ever have your attention," he explained, hands splayed out beside him as if he'd just told her the unchangeable truth.

She watched him with an annoyed frown, not believing a word he said. "Nobody trips over me, Gar."

"You know they do! I do!"

"What? No." She shook her head, hair brushing at her neck with the motion. "You just never tie your shoes."

He sighed exasperatedly, eyes rolling up to the ceiling. "I can't believe you," he muttered, gripping at his hair with both hands before striding over, gripping her belt loops once again and ramming her hips forcefully against his.

This time his kiss had no question to it. This time he was telling her that this was okay, and there was no evolution from quivers of touches to true vigor. His lips were demanding, forcing her to respond as opposed to coaxing. And that was one hundred percent okay, she decided with a satisfied sigh, eyelids sliding closed and hands crawling along his shoulders.

Definitely okay.

Sorry if that was horribly out of character, it's been a while since I've seen the show. xp