[DC] In Dreams, Every Kiss
Jan. 11th, 2012 02:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runespoorTitle: In Dreams, Every Kiss
Ship: Cass/Steph/Tim
Rating: NC-17
Summary: PWP. Really, that’s it. Wait, I guess there’s a smidgen of identity porn? But yeah, no, idek, 1.5k of Steph/Cass/Tim porn.
Expect the unexpected. This has been on Tim’s mind. He’s scrutinized his actions and found them lacking.
Admittedly the phrase isn’t – technically – part of Bruce’s teachings (Bruce being more inclined, it’s been said, to an Old Testament outlook), but. There’s a definite likeness between this and the mantra of preparedness Batman drills through all of his partners. Of which, until very recently, Tim considered himself – well, he thought he was the one taking it the most to heart. If only because he’s, ah, lacking Bruce’s preferred requirements.
Such as spontaneity and a certain – expansiveness? Both of which Steph possesses in alarming amounts. (This is relevant to Tim’s current position.) Alarming, and.
Entrancing.
Steph’s about, about, momentum. Leaping forward with a (gorgeous) shout.
And – as previously mentioned – spontaneity. There’s a, ah, almost a grace to it?... a liveliness. Her laugh echoing over rooftops, you know she’s enjoying it. To the fullest. Like a fruit she’s biting into, juicy and—
“Focus, Boy Wonder,” Steph’s red-red lips pop and chide.
The ruby slickness of the lipstick has been half rubbed off, replaced with— the pinker shininess of bare skin. Her mouth reminds Tim of a bruised raspberry.
Cass hums an agreement, and darts, leaning over Tim’s legs to catch Steph’s mouth into a kiss. Steph’s glove curls against the strands of Cass’ hair, green on black, like it must look against his own hair, and it’s—so like things Tim thought about, so like things Tim dreamt, he can’t bite down the whimper.
Robin – Steph – breaks away a moment, and Tim jolts when he realizes again that she’s not wearing the domino. Even so, her flushed cheeks and rumpled hair, her—the playfulness, predatory in her smile, her joy, they belong to Robin.
He must have said so, for Steph’s smile deepens and Cass lets out a sigh, and leans and licks a long line of approval up Tim’s side. Robin pins him under her gaze, who knew ribs were an erogenous zone – he shudders.
“Tell more,” Cass breathes when she’s up to his ear. Cass, of course, knows what he’s thinking. Her leg against him, brushes of skin more scarred than his, her warmth, she knows how it’s making him feel. “For her.”
Tim’s eyes startle back to Steph, who’s staring at them with her lips pressed in application, as her Robin-gloved hand presses between her legs. Down her thighs.
“Go on,” Steph says. Her voice is high-pitched and irregular. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine, just—carry on, okay?”
Her hips jolt up, just like Tim’s did when her mouth was around his (just say cock, Steph’s voice advises). Cass and he are both staring at her.
“Guys, Cass, that was really nice to watch, why don’t you—” her hips jolt again.
Tim isn’t in much of a state for detective work, but if he were he’d hypothesize that neither Cass nor he are going to be able to break out their fascination any time soon.
“For fuck’s sake,” Steph mumbles. “Okay. If I take my hand out, are either of you gonna give me something better to replace it with?”
There’s a sound when she removes her hand. Tim can’t hear it because all the blood that hadn’t yet rushed south now definitely is – south and up – and that – oh damn – that screws with his inner ear. Hearing? Thing.
But he definitely knows that definitely made a sound, cause when she raises her hand to show that see? nothing down there any more, they’re free to do something about that any time, the glove’s fingers catch and reflect the light – shinyslickwet—
Tim’s hand jumps to his cock, and at the same time Cass – darts back in a fluid, deadly move. He’d call it a ripple except the word doesn’t convey the sheer swiftness of it. It’s not just efficient, it’s beautiful for it, like Dick’s more understated moves, not the kicks, but the ability to shift from one place and one stand to another easy as breathe.
Steph is tumbled to the gritty rooftop with a giggle that rapidly turns into a moan when Cass busies her head between Steph’s legs, Robin’s thighs dragged down to mid-thigh, and she arches into it, rhythmically, waves breaking over her.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Steph’s chanting, “oh my god, Cass—ah—Tim—”
His name, in that voice, Cass’s scarred back rippling between Steph’s legs, catch him like a kick to the stomach. As his vision goes white, he remembers suddenly the third thing – spontaneity, expansiveness, and – grace.
When he comes back down, Steph is riding a second (third?) orgasm with a shout, at the end of which her body finally relaxes.
“Fuck, you guys are amazing,” she says, and then she props herself to her elbows as Cass sits back on her heels. Tits catch his eye. He’s just come, but it makes her tits (Steph insisted on the word, said he couldn’t expect her to get off on the word “torso”) do interesting things. And then they move, as Steph moves and gets to her knees to kiss Cass enthusiastically, unashamedly, Cass who was—getting her off with her mouth a minute ago.
He makes a sound that, upon reflection, he’s not sure expresses distress at how unhygienic it is or arousal at the prospect. Both are unhelpfully mixed-up.
Steph breaks away and meets his gaze. “Hey, Boy Wonder, get used to it,” she says as Cass is removing Robin’s gloves and pushes Steph’s hand impatiently between her legs, which snatches Steph’s attention back in the second.
“Like this,” Cass gasps, “like –”
“Fuck, you’re so fucking soft,” Steph swears, “okay, what do I do?”
“Inside,” Cass punctuates with a jostle of her hips that’s going to haunt Tim’s memories a long time from now, “Robins.”
Cass’ head falls against Steph’s shoulder, locks of sweaty hair sticking to each other’s skin, blond and black entwined. Ropes of muscles roll and shift under their skin, shiny as satin, to the rhythm of their moves.
“Fuck,” Steph swears again, awe in her voice. She sends Tim a glance over Cass’ shoulder. “Little help here?”
And Tim can’t help but be pulled forward, by Steph’s look and Cass’ steady working herself on Steph’s fingers, until he’s got his hand crooked over Cass’ mound, so wet and hot, like a furnace, hot springs between their bodies. Cass sighs and encourages them, and Steph is biting her lip again, and he slips his finger under Steph’s – (this is, a part of his brain notes with sensible, clinical detachment, the clitoris; Steph’s experience is certainly more pertinent here than his own) – and he hears the noises now, and he feels it, around his finger.
“Inside,” Cass repeats, legs twitching wider apart.
“Oh god,” Tim mumbles under his breath. It’s not—it’s dark and damp, and they’re on a rooftop, and his brain is so numb with arousal he knows he couldn’t strategize his way out of a wet paperbag, and there are Steph’s fingers tangling with his own, and it feels very confusing and uncertain. Vaginas are supposed to be tight, and Tim’s not an expert at them, and it strikes him as recklessly ambitious on his part to try and add a finger to the two Steph slipped in while Tim was hyperventilating.
His dread must show, or Cass is tired of waiting, because she glares at him. “Won’t hurt. Me. In. Side.”
Steph bops him against the side with her elbow. “Tim,” she says, “you’ve got to feel this, she’s amazing, fuck, Cass, you’re amazing, you know that?” Her voice has gone strange, deep with tremors, excitement again. “Here, I’ll—”
There’s a shift in pressure, against his – their – fingers and Cass’ core, and Tim realizes Steph’s slipped a finger out to— “To make room for me,” he only knows he’s said aloud when Steph whines next to him.
“It’s so hot that you said that. Cass, you were totally right, dirty talking is so fucking hot.”
“You talk more,” Cass points out. Tim’s grateful; he’s been thinking the same, but at the same time he—can’t talk right now. His finger is – sliding inside Cass, where he can’t see, and it’s tight, but no so tight that— His finger is bumping against Steph’s, and Cass’ walls are shifting around them. He squeezes his other hand tight around himself.
Steph is lapping at Cass’ breasts, and after a moment of hesitation, Tim gives a lick of his own to Cass’ nipple.
“Nice,” Cass hisses in approval, “again—more—”
Tim rubs his lips against the hardened bud, teasing himself until he’s salivating, and then sucking in rhythm with the wriggling, thrusting pace Steph set against Cass’ clit, and the rhythm of Cass’ undulations, and the rhythm of the groans echoing in her chest, growing louder, until out of the corner of his eye Tim gets a glimpse of Steph’s teeth, and Cass comes, sudden and messy and wrecked.
And then Steph’s naked, sticky hand closes around his cock.
“Hey, Boy Wonder. Need a little help with that?” Her eyes crinkle into a smile; Cass lets out a soft laugh.
Ship: Cass/Steph/Tim
Rating: NC-17
Summary: PWP. Really, that’s it. Wait, I guess there’s a smidgen of identity porn? But yeah, no, idek, 1.5k of Steph/Cass/Tim porn.
Expect the unexpected. This has been on Tim’s mind. He’s scrutinized his actions and found them lacking.
Admittedly the phrase isn’t – technically – part of Bruce’s teachings (Bruce being more inclined, it’s been said, to an Old Testament outlook), but. There’s a definite likeness between this and the mantra of preparedness Batman drills through all of his partners. Of which, until very recently, Tim considered himself – well, he thought he was the one taking it the most to heart. If only because he’s, ah, lacking Bruce’s preferred requirements.
Such as spontaneity and a certain – expansiveness? Both of which Steph possesses in alarming amounts. (This is relevant to Tim’s current position.) Alarming, and.
Entrancing.
Steph’s about, about, momentum. Leaping forward with a (gorgeous) shout.
And – as previously mentioned – spontaneity. There’s a, ah, almost a grace to it?... a liveliness. Her laugh echoing over rooftops, you know she’s enjoying it. To the fullest. Like a fruit she’s biting into, juicy and—
“Focus, Boy Wonder,” Steph’s red-red lips pop and chide.
The ruby slickness of the lipstick has been half rubbed off, replaced with— the pinker shininess of bare skin. Her mouth reminds Tim of a bruised raspberry.
Cass hums an agreement, and darts, leaning over Tim’s legs to catch Steph’s mouth into a kiss. Steph’s glove curls against the strands of Cass’ hair, green on black, like it must look against his own hair, and it’s—so like things Tim thought about, so like things Tim dreamt, he can’t bite down the whimper.
Robin – Steph – breaks away a moment, and Tim jolts when he realizes again that she’s not wearing the domino. Even so, her flushed cheeks and rumpled hair, her—the playfulness, predatory in her smile, her joy, they belong to Robin.
He must have said so, for Steph’s smile deepens and Cass lets out a sigh, and leans and licks a long line of approval up Tim’s side. Robin pins him under her gaze, who knew ribs were an erogenous zone – he shudders.
“Tell more,” Cass breathes when she’s up to his ear. Cass, of course, knows what he’s thinking. Her leg against him, brushes of skin more scarred than his, her warmth, she knows how it’s making him feel. “For her.”
Tim’s eyes startle back to Steph, who’s staring at them with her lips pressed in application, as her Robin-gloved hand presses between her legs. Down her thighs.
“Go on,” Steph says. Her voice is high-pitched and irregular. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine, just—carry on, okay?”
Her hips jolt up, just like Tim’s did when her mouth was around his (just say cock, Steph’s voice advises). Cass and he are both staring at her.
“Guys, Cass, that was really nice to watch, why don’t you—” her hips jolt again.
Tim isn’t in much of a state for detective work, but if he were he’d hypothesize that neither Cass nor he are going to be able to break out their fascination any time soon.
“For fuck’s sake,” Steph mumbles. “Okay. If I take my hand out, are either of you gonna give me something better to replace it with?”
There’s a sound when she removes her hand. Tim can’t hear it because all the blood that hadn’t yet rushed south now definitely is – south and up – and that – oh damn – that screws with his inner ear. Hearing? Thing.
But he definitely knows that definitely made a sound, cause when she raises her hand to show that see? nothing down there any more, they’re free to do something about that any time, the glove’s fingers catch and reflect the light – shinyslickwet—
Tim’s hand jumps to his cock, and at the same time Cass – darts back in a fluid, deadly move. He’d call it a ripple except the word doesn’t convey the sheer swiftness of it. It’s not just efficient, it’s beautiful for it, like Dick’s more understated moves, not the kicks, but the ability to shift from one place and one stand to another easy as breathe.
Steph is tumbled to the gritty rooftop with a giggle that rapidly turns into a moan when Cass busies her head between Steph’s legs, Robin’s thighs dragged down to mid-thigh, and she arches into it, rhythmically, waves breaking over her.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Steph’s chanting, “oh my god, Cass—ah—Tim—”
His name, in that voice, Cass’s scarred back rippling between Steph’s legs, catch him like a kick to the stomach. As his vision goes white, he remembers suddenly the third thing – spontaneity, expansiveness, and – grace.
When he comes back down, Steph is riding a second (third?) orgasm with a shout, at the end of which her body finally relaxes.
“Fuck, you guys are amazing,” she says, and then she props herself to her elbows as Cass sits back on her heels. Tits catch his eye. He’s just come, but it makes her tits (Steph insisted on the word, said he couldn’t expect her to get off on the word “torso”) do interesting things. And then they move, as Steph moves and gets to her knees to kiss Cass enthusiastically, unashamedly, Cass who was—getting her off with her mouth a minute ago.
He makes a sound that, upon reflection, he’s not sure expresses distress at how unhygienic it is or arousal at the prospect. Both are unhelpfully mixed-up.
Steph breaks away and meets his gaze. “Hey, Boy Wonder, get used to it,” she says as Cass is removing Robin’s gloves and pushes Steph’s hand impatiently between her legs, which snatches Steph’s attention back in the second.
“Like this,” Cass gasps, “like –”
“Fuck, you’re so fucking soft,” Steph swears, “okay, what do I do?”
“Inside,” Cass punctuates with a jostle of her hips that’s going to haunt Tim’s memories a long time from now, “Robins.”
Cass’ head falls against Steph’s shoulder, locks of sweaty hair sticking to each other’s skin, blond and black entwined. Ropes of muscles roll and shift under their skin, shiny as satin, to the rhythm of their moves.
“Fuck,” Steph swears again, awe in her voice. She sends Tim a glance over Cass’ shoulder. “Little help here?”
And Tim can’t help but be pulled forward, by Steph’s look and Cass’ steady working herself on Steph’s fingers, until he’s got his hand crooked over Cass’ mound, so wet and hot, like a furnace, hot springs between their bodies. Cass sighs and encourages them, and Steph is biting her lip again, and he slips his finger under Steph’s – (this is, a part of his brain notes with sensible, clinical detachment, the clitoris; Steph’s experience is certainly more pertinent here than his own) – and he hears the noises now, and he feels it, around his finger.
“Inside,” Cass repeats, legs twitching wider apart.
“Oh god,” Tim mumbles under his breath. It’s not—it’s dark and damp, and they’re on a rooftop, and his brain is so numb with arousal he knows he couldn’t strategize his way out of a wet paperbag, and there are Steph’s fingers tangling with his own, and it feels very confusing and uncertain. Vaginas are supposed to be tight, and Tim’s not an expert at them, and it strikes him as recklessly ambitious on his part to try and add a finger to the two Steph slipped in while Tim was hyperventilating.
His dread must show, or Cass is tired of waiting, because she glares at him. “Won’t hurt. Me. In. Side.”
Steph bops him against the side with her elbow. “Tim,” she says, “you’ve got to feel this, she’s amazing, fuck, Cass, you’re amazing, you know that?” Her voice has gone strange, deep with tremors, excitement again. “Here, I’ll—”
There’s a shift in pressure, against his – their – fingers and Cass’ core, and Tim realizes Steph’s slipped a finger out to— “To make room for me,” he only knows he’s said aloud when Steph whines next to him.
“It’s so hot that you said that. Cass, you were totally right, dirty talking is so fucking hot.”
“You talk more,” Cass points out. Tim’s grateful; he’s been thinking the same, but at the same time he—can’t talk right now. His finger is – sliding inside Cass, where he can’t see, and it’s tight, but no so tight that— His finger is bumping against Steph’s, and Cass’ walls are shifting around them. He squeezes his other hand tight around himself.
Steph is lapping at Cass’ breasts, and after a moment of hesitation, Tim gives a lick of his own to Cass’ nipple.
“Nice,” Cass hisses in approval, “again—more—”
Tim rubs his lips against the hardened bud, teasing himself until he’s salivating, and then sucking in rhythm with the wriggling, thrusting pace Steph set against Cass’ clit, and the rhythm of Cass’ undulations, and the rhythm of the groans echoing in her chest, growing louder, until out of the corner of his eye Tim gets a glimpse of Steph’s teeth, and Cass comes, sudden and messy and wrecked.
And then Steph’s naked, sticky hand closes around his cock.
“Hey, Boy Wonder. Need a little help with that?” Her eyes crinkle into a smile; Cass lets out a soft laugh.
