WARNING! The rating on this story has INCREASED meaning it is now 18+. Also, I feel it's necessary to point out this is my first time writing a "little more than fluffy", and/or "smutty" scene. It's nothing too graphic, but going from K+ to M is definitely an appropriate rating for this installment.
So yeah. Here's your final warning, I guess. *Shrug* ...Sue me.
Rain pattered against the apartment building, adding an edge of cold to the already bleak darkness of night. She fluffed her wings, shaking more water off into the pool puddling at her still boots. She felt like she was standing in a museum admiring a grand piece of art - when in reality it was just your old, run-of-the-mill, musty, oak door.
The past 10 days replayed in her mind. From the Joker's riad of Las Vagas to her discussion with Lantern in the med bay, to taking on a mission in the omega quadrant with Diana and J'onn the very next morning, to now this.
Yes, she had agreed to "trying it out" with the Green Lantern and consider dating one another by human standards, but she knew even then she shouldn't have caved.
I'm such an idiot. She had chastised herself well over a week now for her foolish decision, but it was so easy to get caught up in the moment. And that kiss was - she growled and shook her head, clearing her mind from completing the thought.
Upon her arrival back to the watchtower she finished her portion of the mission report while she conversed with The Flash, managing to inquire about the progress of Green Lantern's recovery without sounding as involved in their current relationship as she truly was.
She took pride in her questioning abilities - how she made it flow into the conversation so gracefully. He had forked up the information without a thought. "GL was asked to take a week off to recover from his, well... you know." The Flash awkwardly made a blow-up motion with his hands, munching on a basket of chili cheese fries.
"-So yeah, he decided he wanted to take a few more days... He said he wanted to work on some personal stuff. Whatever that means. Fry?" He offered the Thanagarian, who in turn grimaced at the cheese sliding down the speedster's gloved fingers.
She was grimacing at this door currently. Her brain was firing in every direction - at war with herself and how she managed to end up here. "I see a man and a woman." His voice played like a smooth record on repeat. For days, she couldn't get his voice out of her head. She could feel phantom fingers grazing the underside of her chin, making her stomach twist and her chest tighten.
She hated her stupid body, her stupid brain, and she violently pounded on the door at last.
Neon green eyes made themselves visible and she quickly dropped her gaze to see his ring at the ready. "I wouldn't be much of an intruder if I knocked, now, would I?" The effortless tease passed her lips without a second thought.
"Hawkgirl, I ugh," he paused. Instead of completing his sentence, he dropped his hand and looked away from her.
He's upset with me... Good. Her goal since returning to Earth had been to cut off whatever this was between them. She had a mission to focus on, a performance, and a reputation to maintain, hell, she had a betrothed already lined up for her. Talek.
Her heart sank.
"You going to let me in, or do you want to do this here where all your neighbors can eavesdrop?"
He huffed a sigh through his nose and shifted to the side to allow her entrance. She did her best to ignore his standoffish behavior, to not look the slightest bit fazed by him. Just rip the bandaid and get this over with.
"Lantern. Look, I'm only here to clear up what happened after-"
"Shayera," he interrupted. Her name passing his lips caught her off-guard. He neared her, stopping just an arm's length away. "-I'm not dumb. So, don't play the "Hawkgirl" act with me if you're about to say what I think you are."
A rush swept over her and she felt her back tense and her wings raise, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed. "Hawkgirl act?! What's that supposed to mean?"
He dryly chuckled despite her threatening tone and posture and placed his hands in his sweatpants pockets. "I mean the whole - I'm a tough, badass warrior, I don't care about anybody. The only feelings I have are rage and furry, so get out of my way before I shove this mace up your nose. Hawkgirl act." He said the word venomously.
Her mouth felt dry and she realized she had let it drop open like a gaping fish. "I don't... That isn't!" She growled and balled her hands into fists ready to strike him. "-You think you know me so well, Lantern?!" She mocked. "-You don't know anything about me! I shouldn't have come here. I don't owe you anything!"
She rushed to the door but felt his hand grab her wrist before she could reach it. Though she would expect his hold to be harsh, the tenderness at which he held her confused her greatly, cementing her feet in place.
He looked her dead in the eye and spoke evenly. "I know you're scared to show your emotions because you think it will make you seem weak."
She ripped her hand away, seeing the immediate hurt shining in his eyes at her action. He pushed forward regardless, putting his discarded hand to his side. "-I know that it bothers you when you get compared to the others in the League. That you worry we might think you're not as strong or useful. And, I'd bet just about anything that's why you rush in head first trying to get the first hit - to prove that you're not relying on us in any way."
She shook her head, subconsciously moving closer to him. "That isn't-"
John took the opportunity to grab her hands. "I know that against your better judgment - past your big, scary, Hawkgirl guise - you care... You're kind."
"You're wrong," she said, finding her gaze hitting the floor. She chewed on her lip and felt herself shrink, "-kind people don't do what I do." Her hands dropped out of his and balled once more at her side.
Cool air met her cheek, and she realized too late that John had removed her helmet. He gingerly placed it on the side table next to him. The urge to snatch the helm back and hide her face was nearly overwhelming, and he must have noticed the thought cross her mind. Placing both hands on her shoulders he ground her in place, forcing her attention away from her discarded face covering and back to him. "Do you think an unkind person would comfort someone after losing "made-up" heroes from their childhood, and reassure them that what they were feeling wasn't stupid?" She opened her mouth to correct him, but he cut her off.
"-Do you think an unkind person would work as hard as you did to help me recover my will to fight back on Kalanor? Or even stand up to Kat the way you did? You shouted me by name because that bomb exploded with me insi-"
"Stop," Shayera pleaded, her shoulders slumping. "-Listen. None of those things make me a good person, let alone someone you should be with! Anyone with remotely any heart at all would have done the same, so -" she forced herself to meet his eyes and look firm. "-Don't think I care about you any differently than the others. What we were feeling the other night was just relief, and maybe just a tad bit of loneliness or attraction. So... drop it. Let's just go back to the way things were before."
"Back to the way things were before?" John quipped sarcastically, crossing his arms. "-So, you mean all the sexual tension, flirtation, and excuses to work together on missions, or are you talking about how you'd change your schedule so it would line up with mine for watch duties?"
"What?! You're delusional. I've never -" his growing smirk and raised brow left her mind blank, and she rolled her eyes and placed her fists on her hips. She forgot her mask was removed and she wasn't that hard of a read without it.
Either that or he's learned to read me well enough - with or without it.
His arms snaked slowly around her, drawing her closer. Her breath hitched at the familiar scent of his cologne - the warmth radiating off him pulling her in like a moth to a flame. His hushed tone met her ears like a song, "call it loneliness, attraction, whatever you want... but don't lie to me and tell me you care about me no differently than the others. You shouted my name, Shayera... not GL or Lantern." He pressed his forehead to hers."-You weren't worried you lost a teammate... You were worried you lost me."
Damn him. Closing her eyes, she breathed through her nose to try and reel herself. Her muscles strained from her effort to remain still - to not reciprocate his caresses."This doesn't change the fact that this needs to end," she whispered. Her eyes sought his, begging him to let her go so she wouldn't have to. She finally managed the courage to pull away.
Her chest caved at his expression.
"I... I don't understand. What's making you feel this way?!" John pleaded for an answer, hands animated. "- What? Does degrading yourself - the thought of being with such a lowly, human creature - repulse you so badly you have to rush to space to get away from me and these pesky feelings you have?"
The hurt in his voice felt like a knife. "No. That's not," She rubbed her temples fiercely, turning away from him and his convicting accusations.
"If it isn't that, then what?!"
She tried sorting through every English definition she could come up with to explain the complex emotions she too didn't fully understand - all while trying to withhold information she couldn't speak of, without fully lying to this person she'd grown to care for so deeply - but came out completely empty-handed.
Overwhelmed and frustrated, she cried out, slumping on the nearby couch - covering her face with her hands. I don't know what to do!
Not 30 seconds passed before the cushion shifted next to her. A warm, reassuring hand rested against her thigh. His presence nestled beside her, steadying her racing heart if only a fraction. His steady voice met her ringing ears, "Shayera?"
Her eyes stung at the sweetness at which he prayed her name. "-Talk to me. Please? I want to understand." Time passed slowly as she drank his words. "-You said so yourself. I don't know you - not fully anyway. And how can I unless you let me try?"
His hands drifted to hers and encouraged them away from her face. She relented, and he set their hands in her lap and waited for her patiently.
Shayera shook her head, feeling utterly worn out. "You're a stubborn idiot," she said in defeat, giving him a side glance.
He smiled at that, "I'd like to think that's what drew you to me in the first place... you finally found someone who could rival you." The yelp that sounded from her punch to his shoulder brought the smallest of smiles back to her face, much to his joy.
"See? There you go flirting with me again," he winced, rubbing his injury. She studied him with a frown. "You consider that flirting?"
"You going to try and convince me that it isn't?"
She rolled her eyes. "I punch Flash and bad guys all the time, and I can assure you I'm not flirting with either party," Shayera said matter of factly, finding immense relief that they had momentarily derailed. Playful banter flowed so easily with them.
"You don't pull your punches when it comes to them, but you do for me."
Nestling deeper in the couch she crossed her arms. "And how would you know?!"
Another chuckle sounded from him, and he squeezed her knee. "Because you used to hit me in non-flirtatious ways before you liked me... Trust me, I think I would know the difference."
"Remind me again why I like you?" She asked, hitting him again in the same spot - though, softer than before.
Taking the hand that hit him, John brushed a kiss to the backside of her knuckles. She felt stupidly giddy at the touch but tried looking unfazed. She doubted it was successful.
"We probably have similar reasons. We got to know each other past GL and Hawkgirl. You saw past my mask just as much as I saw past yours."
Her chest tightened, and she wrestled with herself. She knew she shouldn't, but her restraint was snapping and the tightness in her chest drifted away as if snatched by the wind. "I ...I'm glad you did," she admitted, resting her forehead against his.
She didn't know who initiated it, but his lips were on hers - hesitant at first.
Shayera tugged at his shirt to draw him closer, settling his unease almost instantly. Kissing him was like nothing she had experienced with anyone. It felt so exhilarating, foreign, and so right all at once - like every other kiss she'd shared before now was incorrect. He certainly knows what he's doing.
Her body moved on instinct - she was straddling his lap and pressing into him, wanting more of his touch. Being away from him the past few days hadn't been her smartest move in hindsight. He must have had similar thoughts; his hands ground into the base of her spine and the place between her wings, molding her body to his.
She gasped a flustered breath, halting their kiss as his fingers traced the place where skin met the base of her left wing, circling in a soft caress with his thumb. He had accidentally stumbled upon that rather tender spot on their first kiss and was surely testing to reconfirm its sensitivity. Shayera smirked down at him, biting his lip briefly, "play dirty and see where that leads you, Stewart."
He responded with a similar smirk, adding an additional finger and brushing the same area in a slow rhythm. As he thought - or rather, hoped - the effect it had on her played out just as it had in his mind. A shiver ran through her and her voice betrayed her; her grip on his shirt tightened.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he whispered innocently, circling the area once more with the faintest bit of added pressure.
The look she gave him was feral; she could feel his heart racing beneath her fingertips. Coiling her arms around his shoulders, she pressed her chest into his neck and locked her legs against his thighs. She bent down and left a trail of searing kisses and soft, bite marks down his neck, raking her nails through his short curls. He breathed a harsh sigh and she felt his tormenting touch relinquish if only a fair amount. She smirked against his heated skin.
Dropping her hips, she pressed herself against him and gingerly rolled, kissing and biting his neck all the while. "Shayera," he all but pleaded her name, fiercely grabbing her shoulders as if needing to be tethered to something - should he fall. She found the notion precious and eased back enough to see his expression. His smile was infectious and she kissed it away before she could be overwhelmed by emotion. He ran his hands down her arms, settling on her waist.
An unwanted memory wrecked through her then, stealing her sweet moment away, and he must have sensed her sudden shift. He broke their kiss and looked at her in concern. He tenderly pushed her hair out of the way. "Hey ...what's wrong?"
Heat rose to her cheeks and she shook her head, bangs swaying. "It's nothing." She went to kiss him again, but he didn't relent. He pushed against her shoulders and asked again. "No. Something's bothering you... tell me."
"I Just," she sighed deeply, pressing her hands into his chest. She felt childish even thinking about it, but it had always bothered her deep down - though, she had never voiced it before. Couldn't. She balled the fabric of his shirt into her fists. "-After... please don't leave."
His eyes widened and then softened into what she assumed was pity, or maybe it was understanding. It made her heart sink whatever it may be. I shouldn't have said anything.
The kiss he placed against her forehead held such warmth and care, leaving her feeling dizzy. "I can promise you -" another kiss to her nose, cheek, and pulse point had her melting in his arms like a foolish, hormonal teen. "-You'll have the opposite issue with me, I won't want you to leave my side," John confessed, his breath nuzzling her affectionately.
She'd had enough. Slipping out of his hold, she pulled John off the couch - forcing a startled yelp from the Green Lantern. Drawing him closer by the elastic of his sweats, she pressed her hips into his. Her wings flared in excitement.
"Bedroom. Now," she growled against his gaping mouth.
He wasted not a second challenging her. He navigated them down the hallway through kisses, nips, pieces of furniture toppling over, and laughter at the other's expense. The door couldn't even be bothered to be properly shut.
Shayera backed John onto the edge of the bed - pulling his shirt over his head and chucking it to the other side of the room. He chuckled, fiddling with the belt loop around her waist. "I hate your costume right now."
Her lips upturned against his. The assault she made to his clothes dampened as she fished behind her back to loosen her top, and the sound of fabric hitting the floor rang out shortly after, followed quickly by her belt atop it. His hands pawed roughly against her exposed chest, back, and stomach, sending her head back. "John," she rasped, scrunching the fabric at the top of his sweats.
He pushed himself up just enough so he could mirror her request, desiring the same garment removed. At the sight of her shoes already gone, John snickered. "When did you lose the boots?"
She grinned at his strange question, but let him strip away her green leggings while she answered, messaging his scalp with her nails. "Kicked them off right about the same time you fell into the nightstand."
Laughter fell from him again, and she felt his arms wrap around her bare knees and sweep her off her feet and flat onto the mattress behind her. "John!" She landed on her back with an "oof" and bounced against the bedding.
Her green eyes traveled up his toned body, and she noticed he was eyeing her in return just as shamelessly as she was.
"You are absolutely beautiful," he breathed.
Beautiful? ...I've been called a lot of things, but never that.
His hands traveled the path his eyes just made starting at her knees and sliding up her thighs, rounding her hips and backside. He nestled himself between her legs, squeezing her bottom and messaging her lower back, brushing chaste kisses all along her stomach, her ribs, and breasts.
Shayera wrapped her legs around his waist and clawed at his back and shoulders, raking her nails up and down his skin. He pressed a kiss against her sternum, right above her heart and she swore she had never felt so desired or cared for. I've never felt this way about anyone.
The thought nearly crept its way past her lips, but the tightness in her chest held it at bay.
English sucks anyway. Feeling her bravado return, Shayera swiftly flipped him over so that he was underneath her - her wings splaying to each side. He stared up at her mildly startled but eased into her embrace quickly. She ran her nails down his chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps.
John pulled Shayera down by her neck into another mind-numbing kiss, his tongue fighting for dominance with hers. A moan bubbled in her throat and she rolled her hips, grazing him. His hold grew fiercer at that, fingers weaving through her hair and gently tugging."You're killing me."
She rolled her hips against him again, expelling another groan from his lips. "I don't know what you're talking about," she teased, sliding her hand down his chest and stomach. He subconsciously attempted to flip her to be back on top, but she pressed her thighs tighter around him, trapping him beneath her.
She tisked and brushed kisses up his chest and neck, never once letting up, "uh-uh, you can have your fun next time. I want this one."
I could die peacefully like this. She thought, holding onto him as if for dear life. Shayera was slumped across his chest, utterly spent - both physically and emotionally. John rubbed her back and massaged her scalp lazily, tangling his fingers through her dampened hair as they both attempted to catch their breaths.
"Tell me," she huffed a chuckle, "-why we haven't done that sooner?"
John laughed, his chest shaking her. She felt his lips plant a kiss to her hairline. "Don't you remember?" He grinned, head falling back to the mattress, "-we're both stubborn idiots."
She rolled her eyes and rose to glare at him, smacking his chest. "You don't have to be an ass, you know?"
He smirked at that and rolled her off of him. Her heart startled, momentarily wondering if he was about to leave and go back on his promise from earlier. She swallowed her pride, gearing herself up for disappointment should it arise.
John instead pressed her into his chest, wrapping her up in the comforter and firmly against him. She sighed deeply, letting a content silence settle between them - the only sound coming from their steadying breaths and the pouring rain of Detroit.
He was so warm, and she found immense peace being so close to him. She always had.
Shayera had nearly fallen prey to sleep, but she felt John stir. Reluctantly, she lifted her head out of his neck and drifted her gaze to meet his. Something was weighing heavy on his mind, but he seemed to be debating whether to free it or not.
Rubbing his chest in comforting circles, she opened the door for him, "what?"
"I guess I," he bit his lip, casting his eyes away.
Curiosity and dread crept up her spine, but she waited.
"-I suppose I'm just worried, is all."
She lifted herself to take him in better - as if seeing him would give her the answer before he could. She spoke hesitantly, unable to see past his forlorn expression, "worried about what?"
His eyes briefly made contact with hers but didn't remain. "That you still have doubts... about us?"
Her mouth opened to offer him comfort, but she quickly stamped it shut. She now found it difficult to look at him.
I don't want to hurt him, but he deserves the truth about this at least.
"I do. But-" finding his eyes, she pressed her hand against his cheek and rubbed her thumb across his skin. "-I know I told you that I wanted to try, and that hasn't changed. It's just-" her hand fell, and she ducked her head shamefully. "-I'm worried too."
John's fingers grazed her chin and lifted. "About what?" He asked tenderly.
So many things stampeded in her mind, but most couldn't be shared. I hate this. Why can't we just live normal lives like everyone else on this dumb planet? No worlds to save, armies to conquer ...For once in my life, I wish things could be simple. That I could have him without this damn mission hanging over my head. And Hro. If John knew the truth...
Her stomach churned, and her voice felt small. "That I'll hurt you."
His smile morphed into a smirk and he chuckled, eyeing her past his lashes. "Maybe I like it when you hurt me."
"John," she scolded.
"Shayera," he matched her tone, brushing a kiss to her pouting lips. "-Listen to me. There's always going to be what if's. We're going to have disagreements, misunderstandings, and all the other stupid things that come with relationships. But please," he sighed so deeply she could feel the breath expel from even his shoulders.
"-Don't push me away... don't tell me this needs to end. I can't bare that."
She couldn't pull her eyes away from his convicting stare - she couldn't drown her heart with logic. I'm too damn selfish.
"Okay... I won't."
His smile lifted her spirit. "Stay with me?" He asked.
Rather than answer, she curled her body into his and rested her head over his heart - kissing the burn she'd left from her mace.
She waited until his breathing thickened and sleep swept over him before allowing her mind to drift, and her eyes to lull. I'll worry about everything when the time comes... right now, I just want this one, good thing.
She clung to him tighter. Don't hate me when this is over.
Vomic! *_* I think I'll crawl into a hole now. Goodbye, cruel world - I'll see you all in therapy.