Disclaimer: Don't own the Teen Titans

The One Night Stand: Chapter One

Raven POV:

Oh Azar.

I feel like absolute crap. My tongue feels fuzzy and it is glued to the roof of my mouth by saliva. I have a killer headache that is pulsing at my temples and in this moment I want nothing more than to fall immediately back into the warm clutches of sleep's embrace. What happened last night to make me feel this terrible? I blink and slowly open my eyes as the memories flood back in.

There was a party, it was somebody's birthday...Ah yes, Beast Boy. It was his 21st birthday and Cyborg decided it would be a great idea to go clubbing. I remember wanting to skip out but deciding to stay only because it meant so much to Garfield. I had sat at the bar and watched Cyborg, Robin, and Beast Boy slowly drink themselves into a stupor. Starfire naively followed their every move with not so much as a stumble. I guess her alcohol tolerance is greater than a human's. Eventually Cyborg went off with some ladies even drunker than he was, Starfire and Robin took to the dance floor, and Beast Boy...He came over to me. I remember him smiling at me drunkenly before ordering me a drink. His toothy fang and stupid goofy charm made goofier by the alcohol eventually coerced me into having it. I assume by the awful way I'm currently feeling and the fact that that's the last thing I can remember means that I had quite a few more afterwards.

I just hope I didn't do anything I'll regret.

With that in mind my eyes finally adjust and I groan as the light streaming through the windows burns my retinas.

Wait a minute...my room doesn't have windows!

I quickly sit up and barely hold back a shriek when I feel something in the bed move beside me.

Oh, it's just Beast Boy.

...BEAST BOY?! What the hell is he doing in my room?! I slowly scan the surrounding area and retract my previous thought for this, what the HELL am I doing in HIS room?!

As I struggle not to panic he shifts again and the blanket covering him slides off slowly revealing a lean and muscled green back. As I watch the blanket continues to slide down, and down, and- is he not wearing clothes?!

Suddenly I have a much more distressing thought...am I not wearing clothes?!

I am quick to discover that, indeed, I am not.

Oh. My. Azar!

This must be a prank! It has to be! There's simply no way that I could've gotten drunk and slept with him of all people! He is the most insufferable, annoying, childish, and maybe just maybe little bit sexy, guy that I have ever been hopelessly infatuated with and I HATE it. There's no way I would have finally given in and slept with him after just a few drinks. There has to be another explanation for why I'm naked in bed with him...Yeah. Right.

Well...that's it folks. Our friendship is officially over. The minute he wakes up and finds me here, that abnormally happy face that I maybe sorta kinda love will turn to a look of deep regret. He'll not only never want to speak to me again, he'll never even LOOK at me again.

As I sit there vainly trying to search for any other explanation, my heart stops as I spot something lying on the floor by the bedside. A disgusting used condom leaves no trace of doubt in my mind. Beast Boy took my virginity last night when we were both DRUNK...and I don't remember a thing. I thought I'd been through every possible bad scenario, my dad's a friggin demon! But clearly the world had one left to throw at me.

All of a sudden it dawns on me...he doesn't have to know. I could sneak away right now and he would never know we slept together. I quickly decide this as the best course of action and pull the sheets off delicately placing them on the edge of the bed, I locate my clothes strewn at the foot of the bed and dress hastily fueled by the horrifying thought that he could wake up any moment and see me like this. Glancing back at him one more time I can't help but smile at the little puddle of drool dripping onto his pillow and I silently congratulate myself on my powers not breaking anything during my epic freak out. Then I phase through the floor and finally into the comfort of my own room.

As the darkness of my room envelops me my headache eases a tad. I feel awful, and not just physically. Why did it take 6 years and a surplus of alcohol to get Gar to take an interest in me? Am I truly that creepy? Maybe I scare him...I am always throwing him out of the window after all. He must hate me, and last night in his drunken state he would've screwed anything with legs, I just happened to be around. I ponder these things until I feel a lurching in my stomach.

Is this what heartbreak feels like?

The lurching gets more violent and I race to the bathroom making it there just in time.

Nope. Not heartbreak. Just hangover.

Putting my head against the coolness of the porcelain bowl I moan and close my eyes.

How am I ever going to face him again?