Blood (M)
A/N: Okay so there's a little bit of blood in this chapter, thus the title. You'll be able to tell when it's about to happen. just a heads up.
He is freaking the fuck out.
He has to meet her parents.
Parents that know they are staying overnight in LA rather than driving back the minimal distance.
Parents that have to know that he is hoping that they actually have sex tonight.
Him and Mac, not her parents... Gross.
How does Dick do it? Every parent in the greater area that Dick has met had to know that he was only there to fuck their daughter and not call after.
"What do I say?"
"As little as possible." Dick tells him from his spot lounging by the pool. Dick keeps looking past him to the small overnight bag Cassidy had dropped on his way outside.
Dick has to know that this is it; that there isn't going to be any illusions about how they probably haven't had sex yet. In his brother's mind he was no doubt coming back from LA a man. That tonight his little brother would be soiling the girl that he loved.
That they loved.
God how drunk is he going to get tonight? He'll have to pay Casey to make sure he doesn't come back to a dead body.
"Look Cass, you'll be fine. You're smart and a little younger," he opens his mouth to argue, but Dick just holds up his hand to silence him, "it'll work in your favour man, chill. Just pretend you're at one of mom's diplomatic parties and you'll be fine. Now get the hell out of here." He waves him away and goes back to staring at the shimmering pool.
He mumbles his thanks, picks up his bag and heads over to pick up Mac.
He's been inside her house before; this shouldn't be any different than any other time. It's just that it is. It, super crazy ,is different, important, and he can feel his heart rate thump angrily against his ribs.
They are judging him and God he feels like he's coming up short.
He shouldn't have done it.
Any of it.
Her.
He has too much riding on this year and here he is making chit chat with the Mackenzie's like he hadn't stuck various parts of his body in their daughter and planned on adding one more to the list tonight.
He just had to focus on the questions, being nervous and a little fumbling. Play the adorable youngest son like at those god awful parties in Europe, the exceedingly smart and well-read young man who would never do anything to sweet Cindy Mackenzie.
"You play any sports?" Her father asks, towering over him from his seated spot on the couch.
He bites a lip before calling on everything calm in him to answer, "I surf."
It doesn't seem sporty enough for Mr. Mackenzie, but he accepts the answer and moves on.
"Any previous girlfriends?"
He blushes and looks down at his hands clasped tight in his lap.
"Dad!" Mac yells from the hall where she has been running back and forth getting something or other in order, "Cass you don't have to answer that."
He answers anyway, "No." He tells his lap before looking up at her parents standing in front of him.
They didn't hate that answer at least. After all a barely sixteen year old boy with no experience wasn't very likely to deflower their little girl.
"How were his grades? Cassidy?"
"Excellent."
"Even gym?"
Mr. Mackenzie had eyed him, trying to take in the lanky frame of this junior that had captured their daughter's attention.
"Uh yeah..."
"Where do you want to go to school?" Mrs. Mackenzie asked trying to take some of the scrutiny out of the way her husband was eyeing him. Like he was trying to figure out how easily his baby girl could out maneuver him.
"Cambridge."
They gave him a look he recognized as 'rich kid' and he felt the urgent need to explain.
"My mom spent a semester at Cambridge. It was the only thing she ever seemed to genuinely love... I just..."
He can't make the words 'wanted her to be proud of me' come out of his mouth, but he didn't seem to need to. Everyone in the house seemed to hear them anyway.
Mac stood in the hallway biting her lip.
Both Mackenzie's seemed to soften considerably at this. This lost, little, rich boy who just wanted someone to be proud of him.
Mrs. Mackenzie leaned forward and wiped some nonexistent dirt off of his shoulder.
"Well you two have a good time, call me when you get in, and give Veronica my love." She told them both, putting a hand on her husband's shoulder to pull him back from his towering position over the boy.
They both said their goodbyes, and left as quickly and calmly as possible.
It wasn't until they were outside of city limits that he dared to ask what her mother meant about Veronica.
"I told them Veronica had some work for her father to do in LA and she was going to meet us at the hotel so she didn't have to spend the whole weekend driving."
"So you lied to them."
She shrugs, "I just told them what I thought they needed to hear."
Oh he knew all about that.
He'd been playing that game with the police for months, and with everyone else in his life for so much longer than that.
"I like you a lot, you know." He tells her, switching lanes and smirking at her.
"I've gotten that impression."
He's laying on the bed of the hotel, in his half removed formal wear, looking up at his phone.
It's an update from Casey.
Dick is so drunk he's lost the ability to use doors. What is going on?
He sends back a quick response to just make sure he's in one piece when he gets back and then powers down his phone.
"You didn't climb out the bathroom window to escape or something, did you?" He calls out.
Mac has been in the bathroom for a surprisingly long time. His imagination has officially gone through all possible options and had landed on the classic date escape.
He pushes himself up from the bed and crosses the decent sized room to the bathroom door.
His hand out to grab the handle when the door swings open.
Mac is standing there in a black silk and lace set with shorts, and looks like she's about to cry.
His throat is dry and his pants feel tight. He didn't even have to remind himself of her crimes for the blood to flow happily away from his brain.
It takes a moment of taking in the soft looking, pale skin and the stark black, his eyes dragging across the fiddly lace bits and the gorgeous monochrome patterns they make with her skin, before his eyes fall back to her upset face.
"What's the matter..." He holds his breath nervously because please just let it be something superficial like how she thought the shorts would be longer or how she thinks she looks pale. Just anything but taking back the idea of having sex with him tonight.
Because he wants her.
He, for the first time, just wants her.The all of it, good pieces and all.
She steps out of the bathroom and into his arms. Just crumples there, holding onto him tight.
"I thought there was time."
She whispers into the collar of his shirt and he can't help himself from running his hand slowly down the silk to settle his hand on her hip, skin against skin.
She jumps a little as he pushes her against himself, holding tight to her.
He wants to do so many things to her. He brushes her hair aside and slides the thin strap slowly down her shoulder before tasting the skin there.
She shivers and the sound of a bitten back moan vibrates across his skin.
She presses her hands lightly against his chest and with a surprising amount of effort he lets her go.
She moves around him to the bed. Part of him wants to know what's wrong and the larger, more dominant part, wants to just find out what's wrong after. Press her back softly into the expensive bedding, slide those small, silky shorts down her pale legs and toss them to where she won't be able to find them in the morning. Slide those straps down, press his tongue against her skin, have her writhe and moan and beg for him to fill her up.
He sits down next to her and when her mouth opens to speak he kisses her.
Deep and hard and she bites back, and it fills him with something. His chest feels like it'll explode and she wraps a hand around his belt.
Thank you god
Thank you
He was going to finally have sex with her, the taste and feel and sound of her would erase all that came before her, she would make him clean.
She pulls away from him and his eyes zero in on hers.
Sad.
"What's the matter? Do you not want to-"
"I do! I want to!" She tells him urgently, her hands on his face, pushing his hair and fear away.
"Okay...then..."
God how on earth do you get this started? How did sex naturally start?
He fingers the red in her hair. He wants to start, but there's something different about it happening because both parties decide that it should that's so much different from the other almost times they'd done it in the past.
It felt like they should vote.
Biting his lip, breath held he leans forward again, his mouth on that sensitive spot of her neck that makes her body shake a little, that changes her breathing.
Moving his hand from her hair he slides it down her chest, across catching lace and slick silk to her breast. He's rough but it's the way she likes it.
A low moan drops from her mouth as he presses her carefully back into the bed.
He maneuvers so that he's sliding her legs open with his knee. His hand leaves her breast, with the softest moan of disappointment, and slides down her body to the core of her.
His fingers slide under the band of the shorts. Suddenly everything in her is stiff and scared, and her hand is quickly wrapped around his wrist, stopping his progression.
"I thought you wanted-"
"I got my period." She tells him firmly, pulling his hand away from what she has deemed the 'danger zone'.
He looks up at her face, and she has an arm thrown across it as if to hide from the shame.
"What?" He shakes his hand free and sets it on the other side of her, so that she's spread out beneath him, what he can see of her face is flushed.
"It wasn't supposed to be here till next week." She hisses something to herself about spending too much time with Veronica, but he doesn't really want to know what that has to do with anything.
He remembers the pain that had flashed across her face earlier, that she had waved away.
Christ.
They had the best timing ever.
He pulls her arm from her face but she has her eyes squeezed shut.
"You're not mad, are you?" She asks. The words this scared thing because, well, she's watched TV before this was supposed to be the big moment and so many girls had been dumped when they wouldn't go all the way.
But it wasn't that she wouldn't.
She wanted to.
This wasn't some sort of fake out, he could tell in the flush of her skin and the slight metallic taste to the air that it wasn't a lie.
He looked down at her, at the shallow, nervous movements of her chest, how the light in the room shimmered across the fabric, eyes dragging down her body to the space between her legs, forced wide by his legs.
He shifted his weight, and let his hand skip down her body again; the idea of blood was appealing, the hot slick ease of it, the stain.
"I'm not mad." He tells her. His voice has that thick, dark quality again, and he can feel her tremor beneath the graze of his fingers.
"What are you doing..." She asked softly and, when his eyes flash up to catch hers they are dark and curious.
He slides his fingers down into her shorts adoring the gasp of surprise she tries to bite back.
"But the blood-" she starts, but the rest of the sentence disappears into a beautiful low moan as his fingers press harder across the outside of her underwear. She's a fucking oven, and he wants nothing more than to burn.
His fingers sneak past the elastic and rub her carefully.
The moan is loud, and God can she be loud all the time please? Please?
Head pressed back into the bed, body pressing urgently up against his fingers, her chest moving with deep heaves that seem to beg for his attention.
He leans to catch her mouth with his and she is moving urgently against him, like she's trying to actively drive out rational thought.
All the parts of her that are scared or ashamed.
He'd gladly take them away from her when her hips thrust up against his hand, he'd do anything to bring that thick, satisfied, urgent little noise out of her.
He pushes past the plastic and slides a finger into her.
Fuck
He's not sure about anyone else, but it's a strange feeling, slick beyond imagining. It might have more than a little to do with his surprising fondness for blood, but he needs her.
She looks like she's going to protest, but he slides another finger in before she can form words.
Whatever the words, they had no chance because the slow pumping motion is driving them into oblivion.
Just grasping fingers and teeth on skin and fucknopenow.
He pulls his fingers out of her and the whine she makes pushes a smirk onto his flushed face.
He looks briefly at his fingers, red. Red brown. Real dark and stained, but before he can get lost completely in the color of her blood her hands are scrabbling for his belt buckle.
Taking her hands, carefully, off his belt, he starts undoing it himself, leaning back, looking down at her.
"You're sure?" The words are out before he can stop them, and he watches as the wild instinct in her crumbles.
She isn't sure.
He can't help but sag. He falls to the bed next to her.
"We can wait." He tells her quietly.
"I just want the first time to..." She shrugs, but he gets it.
"Doves and shit." He supplies and hates his brother a little extra, because he's not sure he can ever give her the type of first time she deserves.
She breaks out in laughter, rolling into him, "God I hope not, that would be messier than if we did it now."
He can't help it, but laughter racks him as well.
When the laughter dies down, she rests her arm across his chest, "I love you." She tells him in a tone so soft he almost misses it.
It freezes everything in him; he gets stiff under her arm. He chokes on his spit.
Say it moron. Now's the time. She loves you back, just push the words out of your mouth.
You know like regular people do?
"I know." He tells her and he can't fucking believe it.
A star wars quote?
He looks at her, eyes wide, waiting for her response. She looks a little hurt, but she rolls her eyes.
"Scruffy looking Nerf herder." She shakes her head. Thank god she recognized the quote, and didn't just think he was being a dick.
He wonders how easily it would have been for Dick to tell her that he loved her, if it's some genetic family damage or if it's just that he's a monster.
He hopes its a family damage. Not just because he wants Dick to be damaged, too, more that he just doesn't want to be alone in this.