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Losing Control

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It wasn't the worst thing either of them had done, of that Harley was certain, but it sure as shit might be the dumbest. But Harley was lonely, and bored, and Bats Junior was there and cute and even when she had been with Mr. J (who had, ironically, kicked her in the face last time they'd seen each other) he was always still nice to her when he was done taking her down. When he'd shown up Harley didn't intend to fight the guy, let alone sleep with him, but then he'd brought up her waitressing and psychiatry and the sting of the rejection letters was still fresh and to top it all off he'd called her crazy and so she'd swung on impulse.


But, as usual when she saw all black and red, the moments after it cleared she was flooded with something even more instant than instant regret. So, she had a knocked-out Bird Boy in her alley with the Big Guy likely to show up any minute and work had been pain in the ass enough without this shit.


Huffing and grumbling she'd hefted Nightwing over her shoulder, actually grateful to her henchwoman days for the strength to drag all six-foot-something of Nightwing's muscle and tights up to her apartment. Once she got their butts up there though the mystery of what the holy hell to do with the guy only grew. Eventually, she dug up a roll of duct tape from her craft drawer and moved him to her bed, where she used more tape than probably strictly necessary to hold him down- but she'd faced down B-Man enough to know that there was no such thing as overkill with these vigilante types.


Out from under the Joker's thumb, she liked to think of herself as sane-enough but that didn't mean talking to herself didn't still help. It had become a regular habit with Pam, though sometimes she was pretty sure her ex-girlfriend had partially encouraged it because her rants could feed a greenhouse for a month. Regardless, it helped. Out loud, she rattled off the facts of her situation and some worries and ideas and somewhere in the mix of it Nightwing started groaning himself awake. His short curls were a mess of tangles and sweat and she could see a bruise from one of her hits darkening around the edges of his mask. This close she was startled that she could see his eyes were all big and brown and sweet like a puppy dog- damnit Harleen get it together.


"Don't bother screamin'. This dump is condemned." Her voice was thankfully more light and breezy than she felt as she gestured to her tiny apartment. She didn't feel breezy, she felt like the Hurricane Harley she'd been before and it was picking at something ragged in her chest. "Nobody in the whole building but you and me, Nightwig."


He leveled an unimpressed glare her way that made her happy he was all tied up. "Nightwing."


She huffed, not letting herself be embarrassed for forgetting some dorks code name- it's part of why she'd gotten out of the tights game in the first place. Names were hard to remember as it was without adding masks and capes. "Really? I must've been thinking about that goofy mullet you used to have. Yeesh, that was like a whole decade of bad-hair days. That was you, right? Former Robin, once upon a time?"


He at least had the good graces to look embarrassed at the mullet's memory. "I had a mullet for like a month."


She couldn't help the smile pulling her lips. "Takin' that as a 'yes'. Well look at Boy Wonder, all grown up." As she let her gaze drag over him the joke dried up in her mouth. She always flirted because it was funny or she wanted the Joker's attention or because she liked making the heroes uncomfortable with sexy talk, but he was actually really cute. He wasn't prison-yard tough like Joker or body builder huge like Batman, but more lithe, like the gymnasts she'd picked up her skills from. Even through the get-up his muscles were so defined she felt like a slouch despite having waitressed doubles the last three days. She shook herself out of it by walking over to her closet and flinging the doors open for no reason other than to hear them thud against the wall.


"And yet you haven't changed at all, Harley."


She tensed, teeth peeling back from her lips despite her back being to him. She was not the same old Harley. She wasn't- but the same anger climbed her throat as she spun on Nightwing. "Haven't changed, huh? So becomin a freakin' waitress counts for nothing? Leaving the Joker, that was nothing!?" Nightwing actually winces at that but she isn't done. "You come here all high n' mighty, talkin about my job and whatnot-" She snatched the rejection letters from the top her dresser and waved them in his face. "Every clinic, every hospital, every goddamn website apparently has rules about hiring ex-costumed supervillans, even just the sidekicks."


He frowned but still tried to rebound. "Well, there are other jobs..."


Then her smile is vicious and painful and patented Wacko-Harley but she couldn't help it. "Oh sure, I've got a ton of offers." She read a few aloud. "'We've got a very special role for you in 'Bad Girls After Dark'.' And you've gotta love this one, 'A tasteful pictorial to be shot in Thailand for legal reasons'." Nightwing's eyes fall from hers. "No matter what I do, you say I'm a criminal, they say I'm a whore. Well I'm sick of other people telling me who I am. Joker, Pammie, even you and the Bat!" The ragged bit of her chest punched out at her and she spun so Nightwing couldn't see that old anger crumble her face.




"Whatever." She started peeling off her dress and heading back to her closet in her underwear, pretending she was shedding the tension in the air with her outfit. Her anger disappeared, the tension didn't.


There was a moment of silence as she dug around before Nightwing tried again. "Really, I didn't mean to-" He seemed to choke on his words and Harley spun from where she'd bent over to inspect the lower rack of her closet to check on him but he looked fine- more than fine, actually. A tent had formed in the neat lines of his suit and his gaze was still low enough before it flickered to her face that she got the general idea of where he'd been staring before he'd been caught. Quick as she'd ever seen him move, he turned his head away from her entirely and shut his eyes.


Her heart jackrabbited in response. Oh.


"Ya know..."


"Don't be getting any funny ideas, Harley." His voice lacked its normal note of finality. His control was slipping, she realized with half wonder and half delight.


"Too late for that, Sugar." His dark eyes tracked her as she flicked off the light with an intensity that had her knees doing something funny. "I've got ideas aplenty."


"Look, Harley-"


"Pretty lonely the last few months. I don't meet many likely prospects at work." She climbed onto bed like she wasn't worried about her heart pounding out of her chest and slid a leg on either side of his lap so she was straddling him. His breath deepened as his body unconsciously pulled closer to hers. She ran a finger down his chest. "I'm kinda choose-y."


"Me too," Nightwing said, not unkindly. Not implying she didn't meet his standards but simply agreeing, she realized with a start. She had never met someone's standards before, that she could remember. But then he blinked and suddenly that's not all he had to say. "I'm not saying I don't want to, because... that could be nice. Wrong- but nice. I just really need to-"


A hand flew up to cover his mouth. "Listen, These mission-y things you go on are dangerous , right? Something could happen to you?"


Nightwing didn't hesitate to nod and that made her lips purse in what she could only figure was frustration with him for making her wait.


"If I go with you I could get hurt, too?" He nodded again, more slowly this time. "Then if you're going, and you need me to go with you, and the world isn't going to end right now... I don't see why we can't both get what we want."


Slowly, so he had time to object, she lowered herself so she's fully seated on his lap and ground her hips forward in a single deliberate motion that had Nightwings lips parting in a shaky exhale. "Whatcha think?"


"I think I'm going to need my hands for this." His dark gaze caught and held her wide blue eyes for a long moment. Even though she knew as soon as she cut him loose he'd be gone, she figured letting him think he'd tricked her into letting him go was a million times better than raping someone for her pride. She leaned over to her nightstand, pulling out a a switchblade at random. She started at his ankles, mostly because she didn't want him to go, but moved quickly to cut him free as if she wasn't disappointed.


However, instead of throwing her off of him and running out the door like she expected, he grabbed her face and crashed their lips together. A startled mix between a gasp and a moan escaped her before she's kissing him back and he's pulling her hair loose from its pigtails to grab handfuls of her long blonde hair like a lifeline.


Despite him being the one who was just tied up, it's her who's hands were being useless. She didn't know where to put them or where to grab on his stupid getup to get his clothes off off off - "How do I-?"


"Belt," Nightwing offered, kissing the heart tattoo on her cheek before mouthing along her jaw and throat. She fumbled with his utility belt for all of five seconds before his tongue grazed the pulse point in her neck and she gave up in favor of bucking helplessly against him. He grabbed her hips to help her gain a little friction for a minute before he nipped her collar bone and stripped his belt with an efficiency that had her head spinning. As soon as he had pulled the top of his costume from whatever secured it to the bottom half she pounced in and shoved his shirt out of the damn way, fumbling in her haste. This time when Nightwing chuckled she noticed a dimple in his cheek she never had before and gave into the impulse to caress his cheek, press a thumb to the crease. "Harley I said yes, I'm not going anywhere."


She shushed him because he was being annoyingly cute and also just annoying. He accepted her dismissal with another grin and wrapped his arms around her, palms sliding up her back in a way that had her arching and he used the opportunity to kiss down her chest and the tops of her breasts, teasing the nipple with too-light sweeps of his tongue under the edge of the cups. A needy sigh from her had his right hand skirting up farther to unhook her bra while the left gently ran her backs length, caressing. She dragged her nails down his chest, delighting in the hitch to his breathing when she brushed over his nipples before he one-upped her and dragged her closer still so he could nip and suck at her now bare chest. She swore and tipped her head back to give him better access and he wrapped a gentle hand around the back of her head, taking the strain off her neck while giving her more momentum to arch into him.


Then, suddenly, she was under him and he was kissing down her ribs and stomach, giving attention to every stray scar and stretch mark, even the one from a failed belly-button piercing she'd gotten at fifteen that had nothing to do with Gotham vigilantes or villains. When he pressed her down to the mattress with one hand on her hip and the other taking off her panties she was almost nervous from the intensity in his brown eyes. She was definitely nervous when he didn't come back up to line themselves up, and instead started kissing her hips, then her thighs.


"What are you doing?" She hated the rushed squeak of fear in her voice but long enough with the Joker taught her to question someone poking around downstairs.


His brows furrowed for a second, creasing the domino mask between his eyes, before a softer expression smoothed it out. "If you tell me to stop I will, Harley. I want to make that very, very clear." She only hesitated a moment before nodding but she was still biting her lip and he was still rubbing soothing little circles by her knee with his thumb. "I was thinking of doing something I think will be fun for both of us. Is that okay?" Her brain's lack of warning signs didn't help Harley's decision, as they hadn't existed when she'd first met a certain Prince of Crime either. But Nightwing had said he would stop, and that was more than anyone had ever given her, so she nodded once more at the man that wasn't quite her enemy.


Seeming to realize her hesitation, Nightwing was slow and precise in his movements as he kissed her left hip again before spreading her legs, draping one over his shoulder, and continuing his ministrations on her thighs until she couldn't help but squirm. As if that were exactly what he was waiting for, he finally spread her open and looked up at her before nosing her center once, then twice, gently, drawing a shiver from her spine. His eyes held hers as he uses the flat of his tongue to lick her all the way up before flicking his tongue in this way that has her gasping and rolling her hips without meaning to which makes him get this downright filthy little smile that she can't help but file away for later. After that he feasts on her like a starving man, his mouth moving against her like it was his own pleasure that he was chasing. His tongue probing her entrance had her seeing stars and she arched up off the bed into his waiting mouth until he was steadily fucking her with his tongue, his large hands splayed against her stomach in an effort to either hold her still or move her closer, she wasn't sure. As if he could feel the exact moment she needed a change, he replaced his tongue with his long fingers and moved his tongue further north. The subtle shift brought him just close enough for her to tangle her fingers in his hair, drawing a moan from him when her nails scratched his scalp. Two fingers pumped steadily inside her while he kissed and licked at her mercilessly until she was shaking and fisting one hand in his curls, one in the sheets.


"Harley," he groaned against her and she shattered like glass in his hands. He kept going through her orgasm until she grabbed at him with both hands and pulled him up her body with a desperately impatient need make him feel that. She tastes herself on his lips but couldn't really find it in herself to care when his tongue, the same tongue that was just fucking her senseless, brushed against her own and she feels him twitch against her.


"Holy hell," she panted and he laughed again. Harley raised her brows at him, gaze flickering to his annoyingly present pants. "Wanna explain to me why those are still on ya and I'm not?"


"Such a way with words," he threw back, but he was shoving his pants down his thighs as he did, so she counted it as a victory and grabbed a condom from the night stand (the drawer under the one filled with knives) before pushing him back onto the mattress. At least Pam had broken her of that- always going for the submissive position and turning her face away. Nightwing didn't just lay down, though, he propped himself up against the headboard and wrapped one arm around her waist to lift her up and align her before guiding her down his length.


Her brows pinched at first from the fullness of him spreading her, and Nightwing breathed through his moans enough to kiss the crease away. When she reached his base they both sighed and groaned, curling and tangling into one another like one of the ivy plants Pam took her moniker from.


"Shit," Harley moaned, grinding down out of pure instinct. Nightwing didn't seem to mind, his head rolling forward to rest on her shoulder as he grunted a mirroring sentiment. She started riding him slowly at first, drawing out every push and pull they gave each other until Nightwings head tipped back off her shoulder and his dark eyes met hers and they let the pace build until his hips were snapping into hers as she rolled her hips against him with a desperate moan that had him pulling her in to kiss her lips, her cheek, her temple. She's amazed at how he can be so talkative without missing a beat, peppering her with encouragements, or questions about how she liked something, or asking if she was coming (which, if he asked, usually meant yes), and if yes he offered only more sweet coaxing. She thought she had experienced all kinds of sex, amazing and awful, but that was a new one. No one had ever seemed to get just as much out of her orgasm as their own like Nightwing did.


When her legs started shaking from exertion, Nightwing asked if he could lay her down which she nodded to now only because she couldn't think straight enough to say yes or even care, as long as he didn't stop moving. It was the right move, because once he had the proper angle, he used the thumb of his free hand to rub circles at her peak until she was clenching around him and dragging her nails down his back probably tougher than she meant to. But, instead of crying out in pain, he rewarded her with a moan from deep in his throat. Somehow that had her orgasming all over again, this time with him not far behind, moaning her name into her shoulder as he almost definitely gave her a hickey that she couldn't find it in herself to not like, if only as proof for herself later, when she was alone.


They laid for a moment like that, tangled and breathing each other in until Harley realized his scent- sweat and clean clothes and spirit gum adhesive- wasn't hers to savor. This was a one-time stress relief. She hadn't been with anyone since that rando after her and Pam called it quits, so she was lonely and upset because work was garbage and so she'd slept with a cute guy. A guy who happened to wear a mask and tights and beat up thugs in his free time. Who, it also happened, she only knew as said masked crime fighter. She could almost hear Pam's voice in her head, her pitying little, "Oh, Harl..."


As soon as he shifted over she rolled to stand, to think, but he stopped her with a hand on the small of her back and a raised brow. She gave him a small smile that he returned, and her chest hurt. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to be caught with my pants down when Bats shows up lookin for you."


And like she had flipped a switch, Nightwing was moving around the room, disposing of the condom before gathering his clothes. He was so laughably frantic it distracted her from washing up. Well, that and his ass. That was pretty distracting too, if she was being fair.


"Harley," He had scolded without having to look at her. As if he knew she was just staring as he tugged on the bottom half of his costume. "What happened to pants?"


And so the fun had ended.