"There Is Only the Dance"
It was a timeless dance, one Batman and Lady Shiva had danced together many times before. Circling, testing, touching, punching, kicking, caressing, sucking...
It was a dance neither would admit to enjoying, even craving. Reputation was everything in their business and they couldn't take the chance of being discovered, revealing any kind of weakness.
It was a dance full of grace and power and no little blood. One moment, she'd split his lip, the next she licked it. They rolled in the grass, fighting for dominance, fighting to lead this aspect of the dance.
It was a dance that let him give in first, allowing her to rear up over him, eyes full of something he couldn't (wouldn't) name. Her hands knew just where to touch. She knew his body better than anyone--knew how he moved, how he fought, how he kissed, how he arched his back when she pushed down over him. His breath caught at the feel of her skin, the hard muscles and perfect shape.
It was a dance of both sinuous and ragged measures, gasps and sweat, release of more than just sexual tension. Perhaps there was relief at being understood so completely, without words.
It was a dance neither would allow to be about joy. It was never planned, never followed by tenderness, never to be spoken of, even to each other.
It was a timeless dance and while it lasted, they were content. But the real world came back and they parted with everything unsaid.
After all, it was just a dance.
--end--
It was a timeless dance, one Batman and Lady Shiva had danced together many times before. Circling, testing, touching, punching, kicking, caressing, sucking...
It was a dance neither would admit to enjoying, even craving. Reputation was everything in their business and they couldn't take the chance of being discovered, revealing any kind of weakness.
It was a dance full of grace and power and no little blood. One moment, she'd split his lip, the next she licked it. They rolled in the grass, fighting for dominance, fighting to lead this aspect of the dance.
It was a dance that let him give in first, allowing her to rear up over him, eyes full of something he couldn't (wouldn't) name. Her hands knew just where to touch. She knew his body better than anyone--knew how he moved, how he fought, how he kissed, how he arched his back when she pushed down over him. His breath caught at the feel of her skin, the hard muscles and perfect shape.
It was a dance of both sinuous and ragged measures, gasps and sweat, release of more than just sexual tension. Perhaps there was relief at being understood so completely, without words.
It was a dance neither would allow to be about joy. It was never planned, never followed by tenderness, never to be spoken of, even to each other.
It was a timeless dance and while it lasted, they were content. But the real world came back and they parted with everything unsaid.
After all, it was just a dance.
--end--