Thank you for all the reviews, keep them coming! And do yourself a favor... go to youtube and look up "I Love Rorschach." Here goes nothing. Enjoy.
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The silence was deafening... then:
"Where the hell have you been?" She whispered.
He flinched. She was angry. Sad angry.
"Busy." Was all he could think to say.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Busy?" She scoffed. "Two weeks."
He intently studied his shoes.
"Too busy to drop in? Let me know you were okay?!" Her voice gained in volume with each word.
"Christ, Rorschach. Two weeks... I thought you were dead." She whispered, her eyes wet.
He saw the tears and he felt even worse. He found that he did not like being the reason she cried.
He took a few cautious steps forward. His hand slowly went to her shoulder.
"Sorry." He finally said. "Not dead, don't cry."
Her hand came up and rested atop his. She waited for it. The moment where he would run. The moment never came.
He swallowed audibly.
Then she pulled herself to him and trapped him in a tight hug. He smelled of faint cigarette smoke, wet streets, and something else... something that was just him. She had missed him.
Red had him in a vice grip. Her arms around him were foreign but ... pleasant. She felt soft against him. She did not let him go, but her arms loosened their tight grip once she realized he was not going to run. His rigid posture eventually relaxed into the embrace.
"I'm... sorry." She hiccuped into his chest.
He felt her tremors and they irritated his wound. She heard his pained gasp. She pulled back and looked at him.
That is when she felt the hot stickiness of blood staining her shirt.
"You're hurt." Her eyes blazed. "Lay down on the bed."
She tugged on his sleeve urgently, leading him over to her bed.
His eyes drooped. He felt tired, sluggish.
"I'll go get some stuff to clean you up with... um... you should take off your shirt so I can see the wound better." She blushed. "I know... that... you're not comfortable ...but from the looks of it you've lost a lot of blood."
With that she ran to her bathroom.
He sighed, shaking his head. He shrugged out of his trench coat, laying it on the chair beside the bed. He went to take off his scarf... but hesitated. His face grew hot and uncomfortable.
He did not know if he could handle being shirtless in front of Red. But need help. Need fixed up. Will have to bear it.
He grit his teeth and tugged his scarf free. He hastily undid the buttons of shirt and sat back down upon the bed.
She came back out and skidded to a stop. He watched her from behind his face.
Her eyes swept down his chest, her expression unreadable. He shifted restlessly on the bed.
She snapped out of it and came towards the bed. She layed the items out. Towels, alcohol, and gauze.
She eyed his wound with sad eyes. A slash, six inches long, halfway down his ribcage. It looked red and angry.
"Lay back." She ordered gently, placing a towel behind him.
He did what he was told, carefully leaning back until he hit the bed.
Red took a small wet towel and gently swiped the blood away from his wound. He watched her face as she worked, not once registering pain. Her stern look of concentration almost made him smile. Her eyebrows knit together as she daintily clean his wound. Trying not to hurt me.
The wound looked a lot smaller once she cleaned the sticky blood away from his chest. It was a thin line. She pondered how so much blood could come from such a tiny wound.
"This might hurt." She warned, as she prepared the alcohol.
He said nothing.
The wound burned where the alcohol drenched it and he made no movement. No sound.
She patted the wound dry and placed gauze over the slash, taping it. Her hands smoothed the tape down and he felt his eyes flutter closed.
Her hands lingered a little too long and she reluctantly removed them. He almost sighed at the loss.
She eyed his chest from the corner of her eye. He was small but lithe. Well defined, most likely from his nightly excursions. She felt a faint blush creep up, invading her cheeks. She hoped he did not notice.
He lay still on her bed, slender form breathing gracefully.
"So..." She began. "I see you're a red head."
He startled, flushing. His hand automatically went for his shirt.
"Just like me." She said happily, smiling.
His hand stopped.
"Not like you." He finally said.
Her smile faded. Her eyes dropped to look at the floor.
"Yours... more like a ruby." He confessed.
She looked up, eyes widening. She smiled a big smile.
"Red is red." She stated. "Yours is just as nice."
Her hand touched his chest before she could stop herself, combing through the rust colored hair.
He gasped. Her hand recoiled as if burned.
"Ss...sorry." Her eyes avoided him. "I just... forget..."
She felt his gloved hand grab hers. She tried to pull away, wanting to run away. Feeling rejected.
He pulled her back to the bed, placing her hand back on his chest.
She stayed completely still. There was no sound but their breathing.
She felt his heart hammering beneath his chest. Her fingers splayed out against him.
Soft.
His hand left hers and returned to his side. He fought to control his breathing, his heart beat. She took the opportunity given to her. She turned more towards him, scooting closer for better access. Her hands touched him tentatively at first, making sure he would not change his mind and flee. She gained more confidence and explored him. Chest, stomach, sides. His eyes fluttered closed as her hands touched him.
There was nothing filthy about the way she touched him. It was almost... worship. The way she touched him, looked at him.
Her hands traveled up, up, up towards his neck. They stopped there, caressing, massaging.
Her mind whispered to her. Bold things. Things that would feel good. She tried in desperation to silence them. But they all sounded insanely tempting.
She figured she should at least try. He had let her touch him, why not this? So she dipped her head to his neck and breathed in. Then she placed a chaste kiss at the crook of his neck.
Electricity jolted through his body, he almost fell off the bed. His hands clenched into fists so he would not grab her.
Am going to hell...
He slowly turned his head to the side, granting her better access. She placed feather-light kisses all the way up the edge of his mask and back down again. Then she opened her mouth and licked tentatively, tasting his sweat.
He groaned, biting his lip.
She felt her stomach tighten in response. God, that sound...
He struggled to stay still. Struggled against his mind and body yelling at him. Telling him conflicting things.
Bad... Goood... Wrong... Very right... Red. Red. Red. This girl killing him.
She sucked gently, trying not to hurt him or leave a mark, savoring the sounds he was making.
His hand went to his mask even though his mind screeched at him not to.
He pulled it up to his nose, breathing in fresh air. Breathing in Red.
Then his hands came up to her shoulders, stilling her movements. She looked up at him, eyes hazy, lips swollen.
This must be beauty...
His lips crashed down on hers. Lips slid against lips, warm and smooth.
His brain shut down, quiet for the moment.
He devoured her sighs, pulling her on top of him.
She placed her hands on both sides of his head, supporting herself.
Her chest heaved in and out, pressing and retreating from his. The temperature increased.
His teeth came out and gently nibbled her bottom lip. She could not stop the moan that escaped.
His insides twisted. His pants got tighter. He found a desperate urge to make her make that sound again.
Overwhelmed, he flipped their bodies, switching places. She gasped as her back hit the bed.
She wished she could see his eyes.
His kissed her again and she opened her mouth against his. Tentative, his tongue slipped in. She tasted like spiced hot chocolate.
He grunted as their tongues touched. Hot and slick.
Her arms circled his neck, pulling him closer. She could not get enough of him. Her mind was telling her this was all a dream, this would never happen. But his weight on top of her told her different.
She had missed him.
The tightness in his pants got worse, bordering on painful. He felt hot. He decided they should slow down, stop. Catch their breath. His loss of blood caught up with him. He felt woozy.
He was the first to pull back. Her eyes watched him intensely. He rolled off of her, laying on his back.
She rolled over too, laying on her side next to him.
"I did miss you." She whispered to him. His head turned towards her, regarding her.
"Me too." His voice like gravel.
She scooted closer to him, nestling into his side. She tossed her arm over him, gently resting her head on his chest.
She listened as his heart beat slowed, the effect hypnotizing. Her eyelids drooped.
"Don't disappear again..." She whispered to him in the darkness of the room.
He swallowed down his heart.
"Never." He rumbled deep in his chest.
Then she drifted into sleep. His mind and body reeling, he followed soon after.