PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS FIC'S RATING HAS GONE UP TO M FOR MATURE/EXPLICIT.
THIS CHAPTER IS NOT FOR THE KIDDIES.
However, I've made it so that if you don't like NSFW, you can completely skip this chapter and everything will still make sense.
Enjoy, you sinners!
CHAPTER EIGHT
SCARLET
Garfield sat in the mess of his room, cross-legged on a rumpled bed sheet. Outside, the sun was burning bright again, even as it steadily sank through the clouds and closer to the sea. He winced against its blinding light, glaring through the glass of his window, and hurriedly flipped to the next page of the manga in his hands.
"Dude, what?!" the boy yelped. With wide eyes, he hurled himself up from his pillow, the tufts of his hair skimming the panels of the bunk above.
He knew he'd been right to stick with this series, even through those recent chapters where things had hit a bit of a slow patch; a boring, drawn-out arc about some side character he'd never really cared for.
The beginnings of this twist was more than making up for it all now.
Beast Boy's lips hung agape as he scanned the sketches and text. Knowing he was set for patrol duty tonight, and knowing he had just under an hour until then, he was determined to at least make it to the end of the volume before he was due to take off into the dusty back alleys of Jump.
Perhaps it would've been the more sensible thing to use this time squeezing in a short nap. But he'd never been much of the sensible type, and there was nothing worse than being left on a cliffhanger, he realised too well.
His foot began tapping impatiently against the mattress as he flicked through more pages. Then, just as the villain's hands rose to remove their mask, a knock rapped out from behind him.
Gar lifted his head at the sound, a pointed ear jutting out. He straightened and looked to his door, only closing the book and tossing it to his nightstand when he heard it knock a second time.
"One sec!" he called out, scrambling to his feet and jogging the short distance across the room. The metal veered open as he neared, and immediately his sight was subdued by purple and blue.
"Raven." His heart hitched and he felt his brows jump, reminded of the night before, where pale skin had shimmered beneath a dynamite sky. Her eyes were tunnelling - something was off - and quickly, he schooled his surprise, letting his chest still. "What's u-"
She swarmed him. Her eyes, her skin, her scent, it was all there, moving too fast for him to think.
The last of his voice was swallowed by warm, heavy lips crushed into his own. They moved urgently, ardently, stealing the air from his throat as she pushed forward to pass through the threshold of his door.
Beast Boy's eyes burst open in the second before he buckled, in the second before they fell shut on raw instinct alone. And he kissed her back; he let his idle arms snake to the small of her waist when her own seized him by the neck, when she pressed her chest flush to his front and moved her feet to stand in the gap between his own.
There was only a dull thrum in his ears, a tight heat coiling low as her wanting lips dragged across his mouth as if seeking to draw out his soul. He savoured the taste of her - the sweetness, the sin - tipped his head one way to drive deeper into the lewd tangle of their mouths.
Just when fingers were crawling into the ruff of his hair, as he inhaled at the wet brush of a silk tongue, his door clinked shut, and his brain flickered back to him.
What was happening?
A war tugged within; the need to keep her tied to him versus the need to know it was all real.
"Hey," Gar murmured into the hollow of her mouth, still open, still pliant. His eyes shuttered and he saw a fringe of black lashes, gently closed. "Hey, Raven," he tried again when she didn't relent, leaning back to search her face with a questioning stare.
At the call of her name, Raven stalled, feeling his hands tight and grounding at the swell of her hips. He watched her lids open slowly, intently, baring those blackened gems, catlike in the dimming light. He felt her gather his hesitation, and when she exhaled, he felt that too, how it fell over him in one trembling breath.
"I'm tired of playing this game, Gar."
Gar.
Oh… That sounded nice.
That sounded like how the forest trees sighed when no one was around to hear. Like secrets hushed into the misty haze of dawn.
He felt his name trickle down his spine and decided he'd never loved it so much in his life. Had never heard it spoken so pleasingly as it did on the red of her tongue, all dark and husky and thick as it was.
And instantly, he got it. He got it because he was tired too. Maybe he'd been tired for years of chasing her as an animal chases its tail. Tired of their teasing eyes across the kitchen in the company of others, and their hands inches apart at the pier.
All their almosts, cast into a heap of untouched memories that they called just friends.
His world tilted, and the changeling was aware of something shifting in his head. Something changing tracks. Then he was tumbling again, bringing his hands like a chalice to her face.
"Me too," he confessed, aching. He led her forehead to his, closed his eyes and felt his brows knit at the cool touch of her jewel. Her lips hovered patiently, barely grazing his own.
"Me too, Rae..."
Beast Boy's mind plunged. This time, he dove forward, bringing his lips back to that warmth on a heady sigh. She unfurled for him, poured into his kiss, let her head rock back against the force of his mouth and stumbled across the carpet on unsteady legs.
Strong hands latched to her waist again, then to her sides, then his forearms were snatching her whole torso, pulling her into him as he pushed on and on, until finally her back flattened against the door and her hood bunched at her shoulders. Their tongues met on a gasp, hot and yearning, and at those first brushes, he smiled, welcoming the thrum growing louder and faster in his skull, his chest, his veins.
She was fire, white and intense, and he was flammable.
Her feverish hands travelled down the shape of his back, feeling out the divots and dips, catching on all the notches there. It was only when they settled firm at his hips, pulling them hard to her own that a second sigh fled out of him.
The heat of her pressed in, pooled at his abdomen, then dripped slowly down. Fuzzy-headed, he obeyed, leaning his weight into that tight space and wedging her frame between himself and the door.
Time seemed to flood out after that.
She was lifting her leg from the floor, moving it across his shin as he inhaled the scent clinging to her cloak - candle wicks and hunger. Then she gripped and ground upwards into him, into that hill at his crotch, dull and hard and God, yes.
Gar thought he might've heard her chuckle at the hiss he sucked into his teeth, but there was a loud pulsing in his ears, phosphenes in his eyes, and reality was slipping like sand through his fingers. Resolute, he let his arms abandon the lure of her waist to fumble beneath him. His hands splayed and palms dragged across the flesh of her thighs before hitching them up with a mighty grip.
She gasped but complied, just like the good girl he knew she would be, wrapping her legs around him the same moment her arms hooked at his neck for support.
All of them, pelvis to chest, combed together and rolled like the rhythmic waves beyond his window.
He heard her hum when their mouths clashed again, a supernatural sound, and she pulled her legs in tighter, heels digging into his ass, riding herself higher up the door.
His blood rushed, devil-hot, and after some drawn-out smacks of their lips, Raven retreated to let out a weighted breath across his cupid's bow. When he dared to peer up at her, he saw her chin tipped, brows sewn low and mouth hanging agape mere inches from his nose.
"Hah… Gar…" she whimpered in time with his hips, catching a flicker of green before welding her eyes shut again on another timely grind. Her plush bottom lip caught between white teeth, head lolling back as if too heavy for the stem of her neck to hold.
His vision blurred.
Desperate, he allowed one hand to leave her thigh and push aside the sleek curtain of hair from her face. He swept up her jaw in a gentle hold, guiding her into another wet, wanton kiss, and she succumbed, if only for a second, before her lips were moving to trail across his cheek, his temple, to the lobe of his ear, then-
Oh.
Gar folded. He sank and crumbled and bent to her will, to the will of that tongue, gliding a long, wet stripe up the cartilage then on to the tapered point. It was as if she knew about the nerve there, hidden in that painfully specific spot just behind the jut of his helix. A thing she couldn't possibly know, for he had never told a soul.
A shudder racked through to his core as he felt the small curl of her lips, the light graze of teeth catching at his skin.
"Maybe I do like the ears..." Her voice poured like a spell into his head. Like liquid lust. He tensed before leaning back, just enough to drink in the sight of her, all swollen lips and florid cheeks.
"C'mere," he smirked.
Green arms suddenly locked, both his hands squeezing at the flesh just below her ass to lift her from the door. She gripped close to him, clutched at his shoulder blades while her face buried into the nape of his neck. A giggle rang out there, into that cosy space, giddy with anticipation.
On wobbly feet, she was carried across the floor, delayed only by the stumble of him narrowly dodging a rogue shoe. Urgently, he let her fall to the bounce of his bed and wasted no time in crawling on all fours above her, knees bent and elbows planted to the sides of her head.
He looked down, and she was there. With hair like a splash of ink and skin like moonlight, she was there, and she was perfect.
For a time, he could only stare, marking out all her bewitching details. Wondering how it could be possible to fit the entire night sky into his cramped, single bunk, but there it was, spilled out in navy blue across the tousled quilt.
And she made him hurt.
"God, you're beautiful," Beast Boy breathed. A thought he'd kept tucked inside of him for far too long. Tucked away in that box, in that crawl space, with all his tension and longing and lust.
The sun stretched out, casting pale ribbons through the jungle of his room, and her eyes glimmered up at him, caught in the gold.
She smiled.
He felt frantic hands pull him back down to her, raking through the wild mess of his hair. Raven's lips snared him in again, eliciting a steady rock of his hips when they settled into that snug space between her thighs.
"Mmh…"
The sound set him to flames, so he pressed down again, drawing out another low moan from the base of her throat.
Her breath came shallow now, even as she fumbled and stole the honour of unclasping her cloak. Just as quick, her hands were at the hem of his uniform top, grappling in a silent plea.
The message came clear, so he tore his chest from hers, carrying his weight on his elbows, then leaned back just long enough to grab the collar of his shirt and tug.
She watched with pupils blown wide as the fabric gathered about his head then was thrown carelessly to join the chaos of his carpet. But before he could return to her, Raven pushed up onto her hands, used the strength of her legs to roll him to his back and straddle his hips in a transfer of power.
This might have been the end of him.
A lone fang peeked out of his gaping mouth, his heart heaving with desire.
And she was above him, on him, with her cloak strewn to God-knows-where and her eyes lidded and hands rooted to his bare chest.
He'd dreamt of this image. He'd gotten off on it more times than he could count. That look, like she too had been famished, waiting out the endless months for this. Like she understood the way the beast in him called out to the demon in her - how it wanted to cling and pound and fuck.
So when she lowered and took him by the mouth, he was certain his last dregs of life slipped out of him and straight down into her lungs.
They kissed - rough, heavy - with tongue and teeth. He felt their breaths pulse in sync, the throbbing of his bulge as she ground harder against it. He wondered if she fucked like she fought, too fierce and stunning to look away.
Just when his hands slid down the arch of her back, seeking out the round of her ass, she moved, lifting to her knees to nudge her mouth along the column of his throat. There, her tongue laved, savouring the taste of him, tearing a deep groan from his lips.
She dragged her front lower - too fast - across his ribs and abs till the tip of her nose was grazing the trail of pine hair that clustered at his navel.
There was too much blood rushing to his groin and not enough to his brain. His heart hammered, head toppled back at the inevitable press of lips against the thin stretch of fabric restraining his cock.
"Raven…"
It wasn't his voice. It was the voice of the desperate thing he'd become. The burning thing she'd purposely set ablaze.
Maybe if he'd been all there, he would have stopped her. Because he'd never pictured it happening like this.
He thought he would slowly peel away all the black from her lily-white frame. He thought he would unstitch her, seam by seam, until he could reach all the things that made her tremor and mewl.
He thought he would bundle her to his chest as they trembled in the afterglow of slow and romantic.
Gar released a shaky sigh and squeezed his eyes shut at the first stroke of her hand over his hardened cock.
"I think it's raining."
His eyes flew open.
"Huh?..." he choked out, not trusting himself to form real words. She spoke again, sounding like smoke, even as her hand cupped and pressed down at the heel.
"It's raining outside," Raven rasped against the thick of his crotch.
He blinked to the window, radiant and bright, and swallowed hard.
"I don't…"
Thunder cracked the skies apart, eclipsing the room, and Beast Boy was thrown.
He shot upright, blinking wildly. Looked to the window, now sodden and grey. Looked to his lap, empty but for boxers and a manga book abandoned in the night.
Looked closer, a swollen heat pulsing against the cotton tent pitching high.
… Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Gar groaned long and loud, launched himself to his bed in the hope that his mattress might just swallow him whole.
He could only lie there, willing his morning wood to wither away. Not a simple thing, for he still had all of her burning at the forefront of his mind; the silhouette of slender curves, backlit against an illusory sunset. Truly, he didn't think he'd ever felt so grateful yet vexed for his impeccable imagination.
His forearm was thrown over his face and he was quiet for a while.
Instead of dousing the flames, the changeling held onto that image in the black of his eyes. He held onto it, and before it could die, he breathed it back to life.
Slowly, temptingly, he felt his hand leave his eyes to wander down - over the expanse of his chest, his naked stomach, then palming at where he needed her most.
God knows it wasn't the first time; the first time he'd closed his eyes, slipped his boxers down his legs and taken his cock firmly in hand. Imagined it was her small, pretty mouth wrapping around him instead.
God knows it wouldn't be the last time.
He was only human.
Worse, he was human, with all the feral urges of the wild howling inside him.
He shivered and envisioned her, just like in his dream, but more. Hands and knees, tilted wrist, petal lips.
Bowed down.
His thumb rubbed along the tender head, gathering all the pre-cum on its pad, then smeared it down the length of his shaft. And as he did, she descended in his mind, taking him deeper into the cove of her mouth…
He began lazily - a weak pull back up, turning into a tug at the peak. He let his cock adjust to the pressure, the momentum of it all, slinging it up and down with an easy grip.
At the first proper jerk, hilt to head, his shoulders stiffened and toes curled in.
It was her hand again now, her lips, pumping him harder, and she didn't shy away from the wet, vulgar sounds that punctured the air and bled into the rain. She stared up at him through thick lashes, detecting that buzz, before grasping the base and hollowing her cheeks on another firm, filthy suck.
With every new wave of pleasure, he bucked, fucked up into the pink of her mouth, felt the sweat gather at his navel and his hairline when she moved to an agonising pace. He reached down, gathered all of her hair from her face and held it tight at the back of her head.
That's it, baby. Good girl...
Gar bit back a mewl, only just. His canine sank into his lower lip, steeling against the sharp ache as his spine arched off the bed and jaw tipped to the ceiling.
She was so good at this. So fucking good. Knowing just how to work him up and ring him out, climbing toward release, quivering into a mess of stifled gasps and choked-out moans.
Beast Boy thought about the heat of her tongue. Thought about what other parts of her would feel like wrapped around him. Thought about her on her back, fucking her deep and slow into the bed - what purrs and cries would leak out of her into the shell of his ear.
His mind fogged out, lost to the carnal shocks of bliss. His nails dug into her scalp, clamping at the violet tresses there, pushing her down as his hips jolted up again. There was tension all along his calves. He gripped harder, his free hand grasping at the bed sheets as that throbbing pulsed and pulsed with every new, frantic thrust.
Fuck Raven, that's it… Just like that...
His eyes welded shut, lips hung wide open to release his laden pants.
"Hah… Ah-haah..."
His heels cut into the bed, knees bent to better drive his cock up into his fist. At his throat, a thick tendon pushed out, taut and tense. Then, like a harp string pulled much too tight, he seized up, all his breath snagging in his chest as he stilled.
His vision whited out just before warmth spilled recklessly into his hand, into the long line of her delectable throat.
"F-fuuuck… "
Electric flares burst behind his eyes, and Gar's hips stuttered - once, twice - milking him of those last trills of cum, dripping obscenely down his shaking knuckles.
He fell boneless to the bed, bathing in the shadows of pleasure, feeling the slick sweat across his back and on his neck. In his ribs, his heart pounded louder than the raging storm outside. His chest rose and collapsed in a great effort to catch his breath and bring the blood rushing back to his face.
How was it so good every fucking time?
This is what she did to him.
It was ecstasy and torture colliding like stars.
Several minutes passed by with him lying limp, staring a hole into his top bunk, before he finally felt his heart begin to slow. And when the euphoria shrank away, when the ringing in his ears turned to the hammering of rain at his window, he was left with just a feeling of being empty and a cold, sticky hand.
Eventually, he sat up, eyeing the moistness with disgust.
"Ugh," the shifter croaked.
Jerk off to the thought of your teammate for the millionth time while she's under the same roof. Nice, Gar. Stay classy.
As was routine, he did his best to push that self-hatred down so he could just get on with his day as if things were normal. As if he wasn't completely gone for the girl who slept one room over, and hadn't been for the past three years now.
Sighing, he threw his legs (only just regaining feeling) over the side of the bed, thinking that maybe he could get ready and fill this hollow feeling in him with some food. With a glance to his bedside clock, he saw that it was, in fact, the morning after the firework display.
09:13 AM.
Not an hour before his patrol. Not sunset. And if he cared to open up the manga he'd fallen asleep to reading, he was sure it'd be the same stale character arc adorning its pages.
Beast Boy pushed to his feet, holding his hand out like it held a rabid creature in it, until he wandered aimlessly into his en suite. There, he switched on the faucet and tried to avoid catching his reflection in the mirror as the water washed rivulets of regret down the plughole.
The sink gurgled and he leaned both palms onto its sides, hanging his head low and hunching his shoulders.
He had to get it together quickly, he knew. No use in feeling too bad about having an amazing orgasm to start his day, yet the way he got there still sat with him like a stone in his gut. A sharp exhale left his nose and he roughly shook his head, as though the past ten minutes would simply fall out of his skull through his ears.
Somewhere above the pelting rain, there was a knock.
Gar bolted up, face-to-face with the sight of him in the mirror - dishevelled, balmy-skinned.
The knock came again, louder this time, and he leapt into action.
Charging out of the bathroom, he tossed a 'Coming!' out at the closed door and snatched up the first pair of loose-fitting pants he saw: his charcoal joggers, tossed aside from the other night onto his desk chair.
He scrambled into them at impressive speed, then hurried quick to answer his unexpected guest. From behind the metallic strip, a slender girl with crossed arms was revealed.
"Raven!"
It wasn't meant to come out like that - like he'd just gagged on a squeaky toy lodged in his gullet.
She was there, not in a leotard and cloak, but in painfully tiny gym shorts and a loose, grey tank top. She was there, leaning her weight to one hip in the way that she always did and tapping her foot on the floor.
And he was hurled back to a world where she wasn't going to step forward into his room and he wasn't going to pin her against his door like some wild animal in heat.
The tapping ceased the instant she regarded him, and for a second he saw her gaze flit down to where he was exposed from the hips-up. If it wasn't enough that seeing her outside his room had scared him shitless, he now felt a flush of shame wash over him at being topless in the stark light of day.
Pink spread to her cheeks, but she seemed to want to pretend her little once-over hadn't happened, and really, he was well on board with that. So when her gaze shifted to his door frame, when she swallowed before she spoke, he allowed it.
"You're late for training," Raven told him. "Robin's mad."
"Training?"
Her eyes met his then.
"It's Sunday."
"Oh! Shit- yeah, I knew that," Beast Boy stammered, having obviously let his leader's new schedule slip from his mind. Of course, distractions also didn't help…
Feeling her message had been delivered, Raven gave a nod then turned on her heel to make her way down the hall and to the gym. Before she was out of sight, she stopped, glancing back at him from over her shoulder.
"We're in the gym," the magus tagged on. "Since it's raining outside."
It's raining outside, she had said, with her teasing mouth dragging over his-
"Yep!" he squawked with a smile too big and a voice too loud. "Sounds good!"
Dark eyes held onto him a second longer, curious, before he was watching her crown of violet hair disappear round the corner.
Gar couldn't get back behind his door fast enough. It slid shut and he crashed against it, not caring when his head whacked back on the chrome. In fact, he welcomed it. In fact, he thought he might just whack it again.
In his dreams, he knew what to do with it all. Knew what to do with the severity of her.
But in reality, the one where he froze when she so much as stood in the corridor to relay a message, he didn't know anything.
Only that he still wanted it. Still wanted her, however she would have him.
He let his head drop.
At least with training, he might be given a distraction from his distraction...
Author's Note:
fun fact: this was my first time EVER writing something explicit. hope you all found it hot and frustrating ;)))
bb's got quite the imagination, huh?
(starting to think i might have a kink for interruptions… also another reason my rae is not an empath. as if i could've gotten away with that end scene without her catching on if she was lmao.)