Fluff: No Words.
by kaoya ( .com )
Jason comes home and cuddles with Cass.
Cass comes awake at the click of her door locks coming undone. She stills, muscles tensing. The cool air against her skin a reminder that she is more vulnerable than she normally would be; suitless, lying in bed with only a sheet to wrap around herself. Her batarangs are strewn across the apartment; the closest one lying on top of a set of drawers. She could probably reach it before a bullet sinks itself in her skull if she rolls off the bed quickly enough. Her utility belt is probably lying in said drawers. That one will be tricky to get to. She'll have to pull the drawers out and reach inside. You could pull a trigger thrice in the amount of time that would take.
Such thoughts are automatic. They flit through her mind constantly in quick, fleeting moments regardless of how unlikely they are. Cass doesn't pay them too much mind though. She knows it's Jason before he even twists the knob. But still.
But still.
Words that defined her -no, both their lives. One could never place too much faith in expectations or routine. You never knew when the face next peering at you from behind the door frame could be an enemy in disguise or worse.
Still, she smiles as the familiar tumble of dark locks; white streak shooting through his bangs, comes into view. She can see that he's tired, his shoulders tight, the muscles bunched and aching but he never hesitates to shoot her a grin before kicking the door shut behind him.
"There's my girl." Without another word, more thuds follow as bags and jacket hit the timber flooring in procession and suddenly the mattress dips as a familiar weight rests beside her.
"Cass," Jason purrs, his voice gruff and deep. She smiles at him, letting her drowsiness show in the way her eyes crinkle at the corners.
"Did I wake you?" He murmurs, nuzzling into her shoulder. "Sorry, didn't mean to take so long. Hadn't expected it to be so busy tonight." He pauses to draw back, already anticipating her response as he meets her gaze squarely. "No, if it was that bad I would've called. You know that. It was nothing I couldn't handle on my own. Stop worrying."
Cass was no longer the only one who could read a person without speaking. Jason knew her very well now, was already familiar with her deep, steadying silence. As sparsely as she spoke, he still seemed to know everything that was on her mind. Just exactly when he developed this particular ability she never knew. It had been a gradual thing, she guessed, something he had unknowingly studied through prolonged time spent in her company until suddenly it was as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It was convenient in its own way. Words had never come easily to Cass; having been raised by her assassin father only in the language of violence. But it also didn't mean she stayed completely silent around him. She needed to practice speaking, this much was clear for the sake of certain missions as well as to maintain her civilian cover. If it got out that Batgirl was a mute rather than stoic as most criminals were wont to believe thanks to a certain predecessor, then it wouldn't be a long shot that any mute female with an athletic build would quickly fall under some form of scrutiny.
And besides, Jason liked hearing her voice. He'd said as much and not just when he was making her say his name or beg for more. Though, he'd been very clear about enjoying that side of her vocal abilities too. He said he liked how thoughtful she sounded, and how, though she seldom spoke, the words that did come from her mouth were always honest. There was no need for guessing games or tip-toeing around Cassandra Cain. Jason liked that side of it too.
"Jason," she murmurs, lifting a hand to run her fingers through his hair.
"Mrmm?" His nose, larger than hers, presses against her skin. She can feel his breath, and, lazily, as she twirls a lock of his hair around a scarred finger, she ponders the idea that he is breathing her in. Not just smelling her skin, but inhaling whatever it was that coated her limbs and made her more Cass than anyone else deep into his lungs and down to his belly.
"So soft," she says, voice barely audible over the soft wheeze of his breath. She loved his hair. Loved feeling its silky strands glide between her digits. The way it fell into his eyes all the time so that he was constantly pushing it back. She'd suggested he cut it once, when she thought that it posed a hazard to his vision, especially considering their line of work and his ridiculously oversized mask to boot (she'd commented on that too, and received quite an earful for it). But he'd merely shrugged it off nonchalantly. She realised now, as she lay there on her stomach, the weight of his head like a stone, that he liked keeping his hair that way. It made him look... what was the word? She'd heard Dick use it sometimes, when he was being silly. Something about Jason's charms being... Rogue-ish. That was it. He liked looking like a rogue. An outlaw. Even if he was everything to the contrary.
She slides callused palms slowly from the crown of his skull, down its base and to his neck. There she lets her fingertips press and circulate against stiff flesh. She can feel the velvety sheen and raised lines of scars, criss-crossing and hatching on every spare ounce of skin it could find. It is when her hands start to descend down his back that she feels him shift, his eyes trained curiously at her.
She waits a beat before twisting her head to meet him. Yes? She seems to say, quirking an eyebrow in thought.
She knows that he can never help but grin at this expression and is rewarded by the twitch of his lips. "You're not fooling me, baby bat," he says, his stern voice at odds with the softness in his gaze.
But Cass doesn't respond, she merely continues the movement of her fingers; dancing and pressing along his spine.
"Hey now," Jason speaks up, wriggling a little so that the bed creaks. "I know what you're doing. I'm fine, baby. Really."
It's as he says this that Cass presses an especially tender spot and he winces, cringing as his words suddenly sound so flimsy. "Here," she insists, pulling him closer so she can massage his back better.
Despite his previous protests, Jason sighs, leaning into her touch. For someone who could kill a man in bare seconds, she could be damn gentle when she wanted to be.
"Oh." Cass pauses in her ministrations for a moment. She gets up from the bed in one fluid motion before Jason has so much of a chance to stop her.
"Baby?" Jason lifts himself up to stare after her.
She merely smiles at him softly before padding out of the room, returning with the ever familiar antiseptic bottle and some bandages. Jason doesn't need to say any more when she sits back at his side and begins dabbing some of the ointment on a particularly sore spot on his back. No permission needed. His body was as much hers as it was his at this point, a declaration he'd only made so that he could claim the reverse was also true. Jason naturally made more use of this arrangement than Cass did, but she had to admit, it did make fixing him up a little easier.
"Ah, didn't even notice that one," he admits sheepishly, using a pillow for his headrest now that Cass had shifted aside.
She makes a sound in response, clearly expressing her disapproval as she continues to swipe him clean.
"What's it look like?"
"Bullet graze." There's a somewhat accusatory tone in her voice.
Jason shrugs. "You know how Penguin's thugs are. Always so trigger happy the minute they see my ugly mug."
He jumps in surprise as she swats his thigh in reprimand. Her expression is gentle, amused, but nevertheless such an act from Cass was singular enough that Jason shoots her a confused look.
"Not ugly," she says finally and without waiting for his response, she finishes bandaging him up, tying a small, neat knot.
"Aw, baby. You're no good for my ego," Jason murmurs, grinning so that his teeth; a neat row of white little squares, flash up at her. She can read his body before he's even started moving so that when he finally grabs her round the torso and pulls her down back beside him he knows it's because she let him. "My Cass," he continues, pressing his face once again to her collarbones before making his way up the slender line of her neck and up, and up some more to the edge of her jaw.
She sighs, content, as her body slackens and fits itself against his like a jigsaw piece. "Should be more careful," she manages to mutter, before her words cut off into the smallest of gasps. Jason is planting kisses along her chin, up and down and back to the hollow of her throat. He lets the tip of his tongue skim against smooth flesh and when he smiles, he makes sure to press that into her skin too so that she knows how grateful he is.
"I love it when you play nurse," he says, pitching his voice lower now as he wraps his arm tighter around her waist. Such a small, slim little thing. "Don't tell me you're finished."
Cass grins. "You're not hurt anywhere else."
"Oh? I'm not?" Now it's his turn to raise a brow. "Maybe you need to check again."
Cass laughs. It makes Jason pause from kissing her throat to watch her lips part, her eyes squeeze shut. Admittedly, Cass didn't laugh too often. Bruce was probably to blame for some of that, his hard demeanour was not without its side effects on his impressionable young charges. But there was Cass' past too; she had a lot to carry, perhaps, arguably, more than he did though she would never let him say that without protest. Still, when she did she laughed beautifully. Light and carefree. It almost made it hard to believe that this was the Bat that put criminals as mad as the damned Joker behind bars every night. How could someone with such love in their soul take bullets to the shin without flinching? Next to her, Jason felt so petty, so unworthy. And still, she never failed to run her hands all over him, making sure he was still in one piece. Her one piece. Just as much as she was his.
Before she has time to finish laughing, Cass is suddenly yanked down, rough and urgently. Jason kisses her, his lips smushing into hers, tongue swiping past her teeth. As good a body reader as she was, this was still something that Cassandra Cain had difficulty anticipating. But it was just like Jason to ambush her like this. She swallows her laughter down and adjusts to this new task. Like before, she runs her fingers through his hair, down his neck and across his shoulders; broad and lightly freckled. He returns the favour as he crawls on top of her slight frame, pressing down against her with his groin. Jason's fingers, too, skim and slide along her skin, bringing goosebumps up in their wake.
Soon, clothes and sheets alike are shucked and discarded on the floor. Words have long lost their place in this sanctum. They are not needed any more.
When Jason finally enters her, Cass can't help the mewls that leave her mouth before she can so much as form a coherent thought. He always feels so good, so hot and big and solid. Jason props himself up above her, drawing himself away so he can watch her eyelids flutter and her cheeks flush bright and red as he begins to move his hips; dragging himself in and out, in and out. It's hard for him too, to stay in such control when Cass is looking the way that she is. It's when she starts to murmur his name, her fingers pressing bruises into his hips, his sides, his shoulders, that he starts to bury his cock deeper and deeper inside her. Every thrust bringing out a symphony of sounds and whimpers from his baby bat's lips.
It feels like only moments have passed when Jason comes, ramming his hips violently against hers. Cass curls into him as he clutches her against his chest; heaving and sweaty, for dear life.
Silence falls on them both, Cass sighing breathlessly as Jason's fingers stay clenched against her thigh.
After a while, he works up the energy to move his body, twisting himself carefully so that his face presses against hers. It makes Cass smile, to feel his breath puff against her cheek, the tips of their noses grazing the other's. Back to where they started.
"Hey, baby bat," he says, peering at her behind heavy eyelids.
She gazes back at him without saying a word. Jason doesn't need her to. He already knows.
End.