The long awaited smut has arrived! :D Sorry if it's not as gruesome as some of you like. But, honestly, the first time is never that great, and we're keeping this shit realistic. Long ass chapter, too. Nearly 3000 words. Not sure how many chapters left. Probably won't surpass fifteen, but who knows. I HAVE A PLOT, AND IT WILL FEAST UPON MY MIND UNTIL IT IS COMPLETELY FULFILLED. Anyway, enjoy :3
---James~
I don't know what ever gave me the idea that Robin wouldn't obsess over Slade like he has in the past, but whatever it was, it was a damn liar. I took a rest after Robin sewed and bandaged me up, thinking he would be around when I got up. Like I said, I don't know what gave me that genius idea, but it was wrong.
After about an hour of sleeping in the medical chamber, I wake up, a throbbing pain in my head. It's really all I can expect. I mean, I did almost split my head in two. Slowly, I pull myself out of the bed and stretch, feeling my back pop in six or seven places. I want nothing more than to see my friends, one Boy Wonder especially. I can't really decide if what had happened was a dream or not. My fingers wander up to my lips and I rub over them slowly. Had he really kissed me?
Only one way to find out, I think, and head out of the chamber and to the main room. The halls are silent, dark, with a slight chill. It's not bad, but it wouldn't kill Cyborg to turn up the heat a couple degrees. Rubbing my arms, I walk into the main room to find one three Titans, but he's not the one that I'm really itching to see.
Without a word, I hop over the back of the couch and land next to Cyborg, aimlessly staring at the screen as he flips through the channels. There's really nothing on, and it's annoying Cyborg to death.
"Gamestation's broken," he says, simply with a sad frown on his face. I'm sure, if the circumstances were different, I would be more upset, but it doesn't phase me so much now.
Click, click, click.
For a Friday afternoon, there really isn't a single thing on television.
"So," I scratch the back of my head, careful not to touch my cut. It's still throbbing, and I don't want to mess it up by scratching at it. Cyborg sighs and passes a channel that he's already been to three times since I sat down.
"Same place he always is when we fight Slade."
"Evidence room?"
I only receive a nod back. I suppose I didn't really expect anything else back. I peer around the room; still no Starfire, no Raven.
"And the girls?"
A smile comes across Cyborg's face like he's found something funny. But I didn't make a joke, so I have no idea what it could have been.
"In bed. You do know what time it is, right?"
I suddenly realize that I don't.
"Just after two in the morning, dude. Rae and Star went to bed hours ago. Star was a little upset with the fact that Robin refused to leave your side while he patched you up, so she stalked off to her room."
My smile falls from my face, and is replaced by a hard, cold expression. I don't dislike Starfire, that's not quite it. It's more complicated than that. I suppose I'm jealous of her, I envy her. I almost wish that sometimes I was her. It doesn't take a total buffoon to know that Robin and Star have been... intimate. I mean, just look at them. Starfire's thin, beautiful, with somewhat of a good personality, and Robin... Robin. I can't even describe him without feeling problems in my pants.
Oh, look at that. Too late.
I fake a yawn and stretch in my seat, standing up after a moment. Before all of this change, all of these mix-ups, I used to be nocturnal to the extreme. I'd stay up clear until dawn, playing video games, sneaking out. It wasn't surprising if I didn't turn into until six in the morning, and everyone got used to it. But when Robin had the accident, I never had the urge to go out. I never had the urge to leave my room.
So, it shocked my friends whenever they saw me admit my sleep-deprivation.
"Well, I think I'm going to turn in for the night... morning," I mutter, slumping over and walking around the couch non-nonchalantly. The sooner I can get to bed, the better. As much fun as this day has been, you'd be surprised at how much I'd like to forget it. I don't hate how things have turned out. I just prefer the way they were before over how they are now. It seems that the childhood innocence of the Titans is gone, long gone. Then again, when the majority of the team—excluding me, a kid at a whopping seventeen—is over eighteen. We're not kids anymore, and I suppose that's where the problem lies.
"Hey, B," Cyborg calls just as the doors of the room open, and I step through. "You... gonna be alright?"
I turn around and stare at him, staring at me. If it's one thing I can't do, it's fool Cy. Being around the same people year after year, getting to know each other, sharing your space with them... you get to know them really well. And because of that, I can't really hide anything from them. Not well, at least.
After a moment, I simply nod my head and tap my fingers against the side of my leg, "Yeah. Yeah, dude. I'm awesome." Before he can protest, I continue walking through the door and hold my dry sobs in until I'm sure it's closed.
My room is quiet. Of course, it usually is. The only light that illuminates the room is the blue-green digits on the digital clock sitting on the nightstand. It's enough light for me to change into some reasonable pajamas, shuffle to my bunk, mostly unharmed, climb up the latter, and crash onto the mattress. For some kids my age, having a bunk bed would seem childish and stupid, but it had it's purposes.
There's a knock at the door that shocks me out of sleep. Well, maybe not sleep. You know that state you're in before you fall asleep, but you're still awake? Yeah. It shocks me out of that. I can even start to imagine who it is, but I have a bad feeling at the back of my mind. I hesitate to open the door, but I finally do. All I can do it stare at him.
"Robin?" I ask, wincing at the light from the hallway and scratching at my head, "You know that it's like... almost three in the morning, right?"
He doesn't seem to care, because all he can do is stare at me, just as I do at him. After a few seconds he looks away, to our feet, and I do the same. I bite my lip; I don't know what to say. Thankfully, he breaks the silence.
From behind his back, he reveals a helmet. It's not his, but a spare. It glows in the light from behind him, shining a deep black. My heart skips a beat and I bite my lip a little too hard. A smile falls across his lips and he cocks an eyebrow.
"Want to go for a ride?"
…
He doesn't tell me where we're going, or how long we'll be gone. I'm tired, and my body aches, as well as my mind. I can't keep my eyes open for longer than a few seconds and sleep is calling my name.
I don't dare wish to be anywhere besides on the back of that motorcycle, my arms wrapped around his stomach and my protected head between his shoulder blades.
Jump City at night isn't as exciting as everyone seems to think it is. Hardly anyone is out, so the streets are pretty clear, which gives Robin the advantage of speeding. I'm not afraid, which surprises me. Must be who I'm with, huh?
The sun isn't quite on the horizon when we reach the beach, but it's slowly peeking over. Robin turns off the bike and kicks up the stand. He looks over his shoulder with a smile, but I don't want to let go. I just want to hold on, if only for a little while longer.
"It's okay, Beast Boy. You can let go," he utters words of reassurance.
With a small sniff, I nod, "I know."
When I finally let go, Robin stands off the bike, helping me off as well. He removes his helmet, then mine, and sets them in the sand. For a while, we just stand there, looking at each other, at the ground, at the ocean. After what feels like forever, I feel his fingers lifting my chin, then his lips on mine. It's not forced, and it's not rough. It's sweet and gentle, and it's the best thing ever.
"Let's walk," he says, and takes my hand.
Our shoes come off, and we play in the sand with our toes as we sit, just close enough for the tide to wash over our feet. I don't know what it is, but something just feels right. Something makes me never want to leave. I could just about live on this beach with Robin forever, and I wouldn't care what anyone else said. But that wasn't possible.
Our fingers interlink, and we scoot closer together, by instinct. I lean my head against his shoulder, and he rests his head on mine. It's perfect, really, for lack of a better word.
"I know why you avoided me when I woke up," he says out of the blue, his fingers tightening around mine.
"Oh?" I chew on the inside of my cheek. I'm nervous, I won't lie. This is all new territory and the last thing I want to do is get lost and die. "You think so?"
"I know so," he says and kisses the top of my head, "And I can't blame you."
"I told you things I never would have told you if you'd been awake."
He turns to me, staring at me intently. "Tell me now."
"R-Robin, I can't..."
"It's simple. Just say the words."
My lips purse and I take my hand away to write in the sand. At first, it just starts out as pointless scribbles. But the scribbles soon turn into our names, and I look into his eyes, or what I can see of them, and take a deep breath.
"I love you."
We just look at each other for a few seconds, before he leans over and we connect again, the kiss feverish and needing. I can't deny him, and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. It's the closest I've been to someone, and I'm glad it's Robin.
Before I know it, I'm looking up at him as he pulls my shirt over my head and tosses it off in the sand. He kisses my jaw, my neck, my chest... my stomach. It doesn't really occur to me that we're in public, not that anyone would see us anyway, but I still try to stifle my noises. I don't think he likes it too much.
"Beast Boy," he whispers against my lips and runs his hands down my stomach, sending shock waves all over me, "Tell me what you need..."
The answer is simple, and I can't get it out fast enough. "I need you."
It's like I grant him permission to explore the new territory, like he's fucking Christopher Columbus, but who am I kidding? It's not like I want him to stop.
I can only feel the heat gravitate towards the holy spot, and I just wish it would be taken care of. And not just by anyone. Then I realize...
"Robin," I grab what I can of his tight shirt and pull it towards me, inches away from his lips, "Clothes... you're wearing too many."
He laughs at this and begins to undress himself until he matches me: nothing but pants. God, I hate pants.
I shuffle around, trying to kick off my boxers, and he seems to take a hint, pulling them down and off. The cold air just about kills me, and Robin can't do anything but laugh at me. Or with me, but I'm not laughing. He kisses my stomach, getting lower and lower with every placing of his pale lips until he's there. I mean, right there. No one has ever been there before. Ever.
And when I feel his lips around me, it's one of the most amazing things ever. To keep from crying out, I bite down on my fingers, like that's going to stop me. I look down at him, his eyes on me. I don't know why, but I feel like I'm supposed to be embarrassed. However, I'm not, and can't keep from bucking my hips skyward.
He plants a kiss at the tip before reaching back up to me, mostly because I'm pulling on his shirt, and kissing me again. I don't get over the initial shock, and every time is like the first.
"Robin..." I whimper against him, and I can't take it anymore. I simply can't.
He takes the hint, and slides out of his pants, taking his boxers with them. It flashes rapidly and wildly in my mind that, HEY. HEY, WE'RE NAKED ON THE BEACH. ON THE BEACH. WHERE ANYONE AND EVERYONE THAT WANTS TO SEE US CAN. But I don't care. And I don't pretend to. I wrap my arms around Robin's shoulders and close my eyes, bracing for impact, so to speak. He murmurs something that sounds like an apology, and I feel him entering.
I swear to God, I'm splitting in half.
I wish I could say it feels magical and wonderful and good. But it doesn't. It hurts like Hell, and I can't do anything but cry out, burying my face into his chest. Tears pour out, and I feel bad. He pulls out and I feel empty. Not so much in the literal sense, but in the sense that even though it hurt—and holy shit, did it hurt—Robin was supposed to be there. And it only felt right that he resume his position.
"Go back," I beg to him against his skin.
"But Beast Boy, I'll hurt—"
"Just go!"
And he does, and it hurts, I won't lie. But after a while, it starts to feel good. And I mean, really, really good. After I stop feeling like I'm splitting down the middle, it doesn't last long, but I don't care. I moan out to him, and he to me, and it's like we're all alone, only with each other.
After what feels like forever, it gets really warm. On the inside, on the outside, and I know it's over. Already, it's over. But for some reason, as we lie there, Robin on top of me and me clinging to him for dear life, I know it doesn't matter how long it lasted. It matters that it happened.
The tide washes over us, covering us like a blanket, then disappears, leaving us bear to the world. It's the best feeling I've had in forever. In all of forever.
"Beast Boy?"
"Hm?"
I feel his lips against my cheek and I smile, "I love you too," he says, and I wish now that I'd known then how bad this was about to turn.