Title: Drown Out All The Rest
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,400+
Characters: Dick/Zatanna
Summary: Maybe some girls dream about dressing up and socializing in an elegant ballroom with some of the richest families in the nation, but she doesn't.
Kinks used: catalyst; trapped/stranded together; sex with clothes still on; intoxication; slow/prolonged sex; gentleness; talking and communication issues; aristocracy; jealousy

For: PD3

Drown Out All The Rest

She's so done with this party.

Honestly, she's never really liked these things. Maybe some girls dream about dressing up and socializing in an elegant ballroom with some of the richest families in the nation, but she doesn't. She only goes because Dick hates coming to these things, but he doesn't want her to have to deal with it, too, so he doesn't want to make her feel obligated to come.

But considering how he's happily conversing with one pretty heiress to the next, she's starting to doubt that theory.

A waiter passes by and swaps her empty glass with a new one, and she's lost count of exactly how many glasses she's had. And she's pretty sure this same waiter has supplied her with a new one each time. So she smiles at him and tucks a $20 into his pocket. He looks exasperated and she can totally relate.

There's so much wealth in this ballroom that it's suffocating.

He gives her a grateful smile and she shrugs her shoulder a little empathetically before he disappears back into the crowd. She brings the rim of the glass to her lips, and as she tips her head back to take a sip, she catches Dick's stare a few feet away.

Maybe it's the alcohol, but she thinks he looks mildly annoyed, maybe even a little jealous. She just looks away, taking a bigger sip.

Now he feels a fraction of what she feels right now.

"He is simply being polite, Miss." She turns her head and sees Alfred coming to stand beside her. "If it weren't rude, you know he wouldn't have left your side all night."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she says, and she knows that she sounds like a brat, but she doesn't care right now.

"Master Dick is worth it," Alfred tells her, and before she can ask what he means by that, he asks, "How much have you had to drink tonight, Miss?" She blinks, her eyes falling to her glass as if staring at it long enough will help her remember. Then she shrugs. "Perhaps you would like to retire for the evening?"

And she knows Alfred well enough to know that that means: "You should go to bed now before you drink too much and do something you regret."

She sighs. "You're probably right."

"Then Master Dick shall escort you to your hotel room upstairs."

"He's kind of—" But she stops herself when someone is taking her wine out of her hands, and she looks up.

It's Dick.

He looks like he's trying hard not to be pissed off, which she doesn't understand considering he seemed just fine earlier, but she just rolls her eyes. He places her glass on the empty tray of a waiter that passes by them and says, "Let's go upstairs."

"Oh, now you decide to pay attention to me?"

She knows she's drunk right now, or at least buzzed enough to not care how much of a bitch she sounds like right now. He gives a hurt look but she starts heading towards the exit before he can say anything. She feels him catch up to her pretty quickly, hears his voice as he politely greeting people back as they pass.

Once they get outside, it's quiet the entire walk from the ballroom to the elevators until she's barely pressed the button and he's grasping her elbow.

"Why are you so mad at me?"

"I'm not," she quips, and the elevator dings, the doors sliding open. They both step inside and he presses their floor. "I'm just drunk and I want to go to sleep."

"Why'd you drink so much? You never drink that much at these things," he reminds.

"Because the waiter seemed to be the only one paying attention to me all night!" she snaps.

"'Tanna, I only left you alone because it would've looked bad if I just ignored those girls. And I knew you didn't need me to be with you." She closes her eyes and leans her back against the elevator wall, arms crossed over her chest. "I gladly would've ditched all of those people to be with you, but you know why I shouldn't do that."

"I know," she exhales. Her head kind of hurts now. "It just sucks having to share you with all these girls I could never compare to."

She feels him take a step towards her, his hand rubbing her arm soothingly. "You are so much better than anyone in that room. And you're not sharing me with anyone. Maybe those other girls need my attention, but they'll never truly have me the way that you do."

She opens her eyes and meets his.

"You know I'm yours," he tells her softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It's crazy that I even have to remind you."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She looks at him and he steps forward so that she's almost entirely pressed between him and the elevator wall. He slides his hand behind her, his fingers tracing the material of the backless dress before sliding delicately up her spine. She shivers.

It feels so good.

"It'd tell you every minute of every day if that's what it took to convince you." She lets out a sigh as he draws patterns into her skin. "I'm yours."

"And I'm yours," she breathes, threading her fingers through his hair and bringing him closer. She kisses him gently, tentatively, as her eyes fall closed again. His breath is warm against her face and she slides her other hand around his neck, pressing against him as she kisses him again. "I'm sorry for being jealous."

"Don't be," he says again, pressing her back against the wall and kissing her harder. "God, I want you so bad right now."

The words barely escape his lips, though, when the elevator suddenly shudders to a stop. She glances over his shoulder to see if they're on their floor, but then the lights flicker off, leaving them in the dim red glow of the emergency light above their heads.

"A power outage?" he guesses.

"I don't know," she breathes, kissing him again. It's probably the alcohol in her system, but she really doesn't care what's happening at the moment. "I want you."

He groans a little. "We shouldn't," he says, but she can hear it in his voice. He wants it, too, but he's trying to convince himself that it's a bad idea because it really is. It's a horrible, stupid idea. But then he repeats, "We shouldn't," and she knows that it doesn't matter anymore. The world could be ending outside and it still wouldn't matter anymore.

They're going to have sex in this elevator right now.

He kisses her a little harder and a little dirtier than before, and she reaches up and undoes the knot behind her neck, letting the front of her dress fall between them. He grasps her legs and wraps them around his waist, pushing her back a little higher against the wall as he licks a line across her collarbone. Her fingers comb into his hair again as he drags his tongue along her mound. "Dick," she moans, arching against him, and he makes this noise from the back of his throat when her center rubs against him.

Her panties are thoroughly soaked and she knows he can feel it through their clothes. He reaches underneath her dress and traces his thumb along the waistband of her panties. "I need this off, baby," he says against her skin, grinding hard against her and making her let out a cry of pleasure.

She's wet.

"Then give me a second," she exhales, unwinding her legs from around his waist.

He sets her on the ground and she pushes his hands from her hips, sliding her panties down and stepping out of them. He plucks them from the ground and tucks them into his pocket, and she giggles.

Then he slides his hand up her leg and brushes his fingers against her and she moans breathily.

"Tease," she mutters, and he chuckles.

Her hands go between them, grasping his belt and unclasping it quickly before tugging his zipper down. Then he lifts her so she can wrap her legs around his waist again, and they both moan loudly, her heels digging into his back when his length accidentally brushes against her wetness. "Ouch," he mumbles.

"Sorry," she laughs breathlessly, nudging aside the straps of her stilettos aside until they're falling to the ground. She arches against him again. "I need you in me now."

"Me too, Zatanna."

She makes a noise at how her name sounds on his lips, reaches between them and grasps his length. He groans into her neck and she guides him to her entrance, hand sliding under his shirt and over the contours of his abs as he rolls his hips and slides into her.

They both moan loudly at the feeling.

He starts thrusting into her as he's kissing her neck, and she brings both hands up and threads them through his hair. "Harder, babe," she breathes. He bites down on her pulse and she lets out this squeal, snapping her hips against his. Then he licks the spot where he bit and presses a kiss to it, and she pouts. "That's not what I meant."

He pushes up into her, hard, and her heels dig into his back as she whimpers. "I know," he says, kissing her trembling lips.

She pulls his head from her neck and kisses him. "Feels amazing," she breathes.

"I know," he says again, and he pushes her up the wall a little as he thrusts into her harder. "I can feel you around me." She licks his lips, pushing her tongue passed them in a kiss as she clenches around him. He groans and snaps his hips in response, grazing her spot, and she pulls back as she sucks in a gasp.

He angles his hips and grinds against her again and again, and her body shudders in pleasure as he grazes her spot with every thrust.

She's so close.

And he knows this, too, because he reaches between them and swipes his thumb against her clit, slowing his movements. She arches against him and digs her fingers into his biceps to try and keep her balance. "Baby, I need you to come," he tells her, kissing her again before she can hope to articulate a proper response, and he lightly rolls her clit between his fingers. She shudders and presses her forehead against his, pulling him closer. She clenches her muscles around him and he groans. "I'm going to make you come, okay?"

She whimpers and nods, her breath coming out in these little, broken pants. He's rolling in and out of her in these slow, deep strokes. She can feel his entire length rubbing against her as he pulls almost completely out and slides back in, his thumb drawing circles around her clit.

"I love you," he says, his breath warm against her face. "You know that, right?"

"I know." She presses their lips together, letting out a sigh. "God,I love you so much."

"You're prettier than any girl I've ever laid eyes on," he tells her, kissing her as the back of her head rests against the wall. He slides his lips along her jaw, showering kisses until his lips are right next to her ear. "You're the only one that I'll ever need." He grinds his hips against hers and she sucks in a gasp. "Don't forget that, okay?"

"I won't," she breathes.

He pulls out of her so, so slowly and her legs quiver. "Promise me that you won't forget it anymore. I need to know that you know."

"I promise."

And then he thrusts back into her as she rolls her hips against his, and she comes, hard, her muscles clenching and fluttering around him and pulling him into his orgasm, too. He holds her tightly and kisses her over and over again, and she kisses him with equal fervor, gasping for breath. Her lungs are on fire but she doesn't care. She can't help herself.

"You're amazing," she sighs, entirely breathless as her orgasm subsides.

"So are you," he replies, kissing her again. She's lost count of how many times he's kissed her since they stepped into the elevator. "We should… probably…"

"Yeah, probably."

She loosens her grip on him and whimpers as he pulls out of her, removing her legs from his waist and setting her feet back onto the floor. He reaches down and pulls his boxers and slacks back up, fastening his belt into place once more as she knots the top of her dress behind her neck, straightening it out.

She's just slipping back into her stilettos when elevator shudders to life again, the lights flickering back on. She squints against the sudden brightness until her eyes adjust.

"That was creepily convenient," she laughs.

Dick shrugs his shoulders. "Maybe it was magic," he says, quirking an eyebrow, and she shoves his shoulders half-heartedly.

"You're so cheesy."

"You make me a cheesy guy," he tells her, dropping a kiss to her temple.

He drapes his arm around her and she leans into his side, letting her eyes fall closed. "Sorry for being such a brat earlier," she mumbles. She's exhausted. He mumbles a response she doesn't quite hear – she thinks he says, "Stop apologizing" – and when the elevator dings as it reaches their floor, he scoops her into his arms. "I'm going to be so hung over."

She feels the deep rumble in his chest as he chuckles. "Wally told me that coffee and sex always makes Artemis feel better after a hangover."

"You guys share that kind of stuff?"

Dick shrugs his shoulders. "We're best friends. You mean you and Artemis don't share personal stuff?"

"You don't want to know what we share," she says. She imagines him arching an eyebrow and she shakes her head. "Stop being so perverted, Dick," she tells him, which is kind of ridiculous considering what they just did. "You're going to help tomorrow morning, right?"

He kisses her forehead. "I will. In fact, we're not leaving your bed until I know you are thoroughly cured."

She laughs.