Title: Presence and absence Fandom: DCU (Batgirl v2) Rating: Involves explicit sex. Notes: Set post-Batgirl #59, pre-#60. Disclaimer: They are not mine, and I do not want or expect any money from using them. Summary: Cass tugs off her cowl and sits on the edge of his bed. "Steph." Cass doesn't say "I need you" aloud. If Robin -- if Tim can't see as much when she's in his room, with the dawn coming on, then he doesn't know her. He sits up in bed almost as if he's been expecting a dark shadow on his pillow, and he asks, "What's wrong?" She tugs off her cowl and sits on the edge of his bed. "Steph." He sits up a little straighter, yearning, hoping, and then resigning himself again with a movement that no one but Batman could ever call a slouch. "I miss her, too," he says, with every inch of his body, and much more quietly aloud. Cass shakes her head. Words. "You -- knew her. For a long time." It makes him ache and fold in on himself more. "Not long enough." "You kissed her." Sometimes Cass still finds the range of expression in laughter amazing. Tim may as well be crying. His shoulders shake for a moment with both emotions. He says, "Well -- yes. She kissed me. I miss that, too." "Show me." Cass touches his shoulder before he flinches at the words. "Please." Tim stares at her in the darkness, motionless with confusion. "What?" "Show me... how she kissed you." Cass smiles at him. "I never... I wanted to." He freezes even more, afraid, thinking, as Bat as he can be in only his boxers. If he could read her, as she reads him, he would not have to wonder. But he takes her hand. "She wouldn't have stopped you." She considers squeezing his hand to show him just how much that hurts her, but it would not help to break a bone, now. "Too late." Tim nods. "I know." "Show me," Cass says again. His breath catches in his throat, but he does not sob. "If Steph kissed you -- she'd turn on the light, first." Tim's room is dingy, but it serves his purposes. Tim's bed is fine quality, because he needs the hours of sleep he gets to be as good as possible. Tim's body is even more inescapably male in the light. Until he shifts a little and runs a hand through his hair, settling into a pose for her. That crooked smile is not his, and it makes Cass's heart leap and fall at the same time. "Steph," she says, and Tim's expression says it back to her with a grin, wide, bright, and only the faintest tinge of bitter. "You're so gorgeous, B. G.," Steph says, in Tim's voice, with Tim's posture, giving her an envious, appreciative look. Steph leans toward her, needing, wanting more openly than anyone else dares to want. "Oh, Steph," Cass says, and she knows it isn't fair to stare at him when she's only looking at the way he's sitting, watching him think Steph at her and dance Steph for her. "Please." Steph kisses her, and it is as impetuous, maddening, delightful, shivering as Steph's kisses must be -- must have been -- the tenses make Cass's head spin when she isn't in love, loved, when no one is kissing her with the taste of sunshine and beauty and Robin. Robin. Cass breaks the kiss and stares at Tim for a breath. He has lost too much, and he gives her this. She cannot see his pain under his act. She touches Steph's cheek -- stubble. Tim. "Wait." Steph would not sit on his bed with a cape hanging from her shoulders, not if they had been apart -- how many weeks? Oh, Tim. He must have missed her. Cass thinks of blonde hair and laughter. She peels off her uniform, her sweaty underwear, her bra, and focuses. There. That is how Steph's smile feels, so alive. She can feel Tim's eyes on her, and she loves him, loves being looked at, loves being appreciated. That tip of the pelvis is Steph's, with confidence and an invitation. She wants him to know that she is naked for him, and she knows that she is beautiful. Tim moans and reaches for her. Steph leans into the touch, and when Tim's smile opens into something joyous, Cass kisses Steph, and Steph kisses Tim. He touches her breast, or Steph does, tentative at first, then bolder when she sighs, "Tim." He says, "Steph," in her ear, and she laughs for the music of it, the way no one has laughed around Tim in too long. Steph kisses her again and touches her stomach, her hip. "Is it okay?" Cass answers as Steph answers, pressing her hips against his hand, moving to find the right places, the right rhythms, and reaching for Tim. Steph says, "Please, yes." He's shaking with need, Steph's breath is already coming short and fast. He makes her tingle and gasp for more. She strokes him, moving faster, harder in time to the jerks of Steph's hips. Too long since she touched him, too long since he touched her. They kiss again, more eloquent than any words -- immediate need and the deeper ache of longing. "God, I missed you," Tim says, gruffly, against her hair that should be blonde. "Please --" Steph says. "I'm here," Cass says, as Steph as she can make herself be. Open, clear, bright, shivering with emotion. "I love you." Steph falters for a moment, clings to her shoulder, and Tim comes in her hand, his expression naked enough to be Steph's, his body shouting its climax. "Sorry," Steph says, and that isn't Tim. Tim would be sincere or embarrassed. Steph is grinning at her. "But now I can think about it." Cass lets herself fall back on the bed, watching the hunger in Steph's eyes, Tim's eyes. It doesn't mask the loneliness. It burns it to ashes. Steph licks her nipple and Cass watches the focus on her face, then lets the shiver show for Tim's sake. Steph doesn't have any reason to hide her pleasure. When Tim slides a finger inside her, she lets her hips move with it and whimpers for him, shows him just what she needs, today, now. Steph's hands know just where to go, and Cass moans for her. "Oh, Steph." "You're beautiful," Steph says, brushing just there, just hard enough, just right, and Cass feels her muscles tense just as Steph says, "Love you." She can show Steph the climax, the release and the tension and the naked, naked self, to be Steph for Tim for a last moment in the most intimate way she can. When the room is real again, when he is Tim again, she pushes his hands away, and sits up Cass. "I wish she kissed me," Cass says, and Tim shivers. "Yes." He squeezes her shoulder in a Batman-hug. It's cold in the room without Steph there. Cass clears her throat, and Steph says, "Timmy, hug me." He does it without hesitation, clinging to her with all of the wishing and wanting she can see in him every night. Steph strokes his hair and says, "It's okay." "It's not okay." Tim gives her a Robin frown, angry with the world. "I'm here," Cass says, and Steph adds, "Timmy." Tim hugs her more tightly. "It's still not okay." Cass shrugs. "What else can we do?" Steph grins at her, a tired smile, but still real. "We'll just have to figure it out." And Tim gives her another shoulder squeeze. "Thanks." Cass nods. "Welcome." Tim pulls back his covers. "Let's get some sleep." "Does Steph -- cuddle?" Tim laughs, and there are still sharp edges, but not quite so many. "Is the Pope Catholic?" Cass blinks. "I don't know." "I meant yes. She does. Definitely." "I will stay." And Steph does cuddle, warmly, tightly, enough to drive out the cold in every part of Cass's body until she can fall asleep and feel safe.
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