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Hello? Er, Rae?”
Blinking rapidly, Rachel came out of her flashback. Once again, she was in a downtown costume shop with her roommate Kori frowning at her with a slightly concerned expression.
Deciding to feign innocence and ignorance, Rachel infinitesimally shook her head as if to clear some small thought out of it. “Sorry, why’d you want me to go again? Why can’t I be a witch?”
Kori obviously didn’t buy it. “Dick was telling me last night that Damian asked if I was bringing ‘anyone’ with me to the party.”
Rachel made an indistinct noise in her throat, turning away from the conversation. Following behind, Kori kept up her pursuit of convincing her.
“The reason I know you’re so interested is because you never want to talk about it! You always talk calmly about these things, you’re so rational and level-headed about everything.”
“Or maybe it’s because you’re dating his older brother,” Rachel argued, shifting through costumes hung neatly in a row.
“Well, there’s that,” Kori admitted, “but I know you still want to!”
Rachel said nothing, afraid her tone would give her away; Kori knew her better than anyone, and, yes, she did still want to.
It’d taste quite a foul lie to say she hadn’t thought of that night when she was alone.
“I’m going to the party with you,” Rachel instead said, “and maybe I’ll even dress up a little, depending what I find here… but I’m not talking to a guy who-“ her eyes tightened, “booted me out of bed.”
There was hesitance. Then, Kori tentatively said, “And you’re sure that’s what happened?”
Pulling out a plastic sealed costume labeled Naughty Angel to examine, Rachel said nothing, leaving Kori to her own assumptions. She heard her friend quietly sigh and agree to just shop around for whatever Rachel liked.
Scarlet robes that first appeared cut up caught Rachel’s eye, which turned out to be a sexy devil getup consisting of horns, a cape, and some sort of bralette. She passed. Then there was Sexy Cop: a skirt and two badges, strategically placed- nu-uh. A sexy sports referee was a hard pass… definitely not to the Exotic Kitten one (was that a cat tail butt plug that came with it? The fuck?)…
Close to giving up, Rachel came across one that looked interesting at last and pulled it out, humming to herself.
Kori looked over her shoulder. “That’d make for a nice compromise,” she said thoughtfully.
~
It was a tighter fit than Raven would have liked, but, then again, it was probably made that way. Turning in front of her mirror to get better angles of how the Succubus Witch! costume looked on her, Rachel was still pleasantly pleased.
The costume was composed of a one-piece teddy that went from dark bra, a fishnet middle to reveal midriff in see-through material, down to a lingerie-like bottom that would have revealed entirely too much behind had it not been for the frilly pettiskirt that helped her cover up. Fishnet leggings ran beneath that to her spiky black boots (that Rachel just happened to own). The look was completed by the classic black top hat of a witch.
Rachel turned, admittedly admiring herself in the mirror. It certainly felt like she was wearing socially acceptable lingerie.
A knock on her bedroom door was followed by it swinging open without an answer. Kori was revealed to be wearing black, family-friendly Hogwarts robes with the Gryffindor crest on the shoulder area. Whatever she was going to say was whipped from her mouth as she saw her best friend.
“Damn, Rae!”
“I think it’s too much,” Rachel said nervously, throwing a glance over her shoulder back to the mirror. Everyone would get a clear view to the top of her legs, the bottom of her butt.
“It’s everything you’ll ever need,” Kori disagreed. “Dick is almost here, add any last touches now.”
Rachel couldn’t think of anything else to do, but added a touch more spray of perfume to her neck as a confidence booster before joining Kori in their shared living room.
They’d certainly gotten into the Gotham-mite spirit, decorating animatedly for Halloween. Paper bats and ghosts hung from the ceiling. A carved jack-o-lantern sat upon their kitchen counter (though the carving showed Mickey Mouse’s silhouette, far from Halloween-y). An ornament-embellished decoration resembling a dead Christmas tree stood six feet tall by the television.
“We rock,” Kori smiled satisfyingly to herself. Her phone dinged.
“He’s here!” she said excitedly. “You ready?”
Deliberating quickly, Rachel nodded. Kori picked up a large bowl of candy (‘Take TWO please’ said the sticker that was taped to it), followed Rachel opening up the front door, and placed it on their outdoor coffee table before heading down the stairs. The sun was very nearly set now.
That obsidian Mercedes that was becoming all-too-familiar waited for them in the parking lot. Dick got out to greet them. He was dressed very similarly to his girlfriend, but wore glasses that he didn’t need, distinctly disheveled his hair, and had drawn a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.
“Hey babe,” he grinned, giving Kori a kiss. “How you, uh, doing, Rae?”
“Great, thanks,” Rachel said quickly to move past the fact that his eyes popped momentarily when seeing her, wishing to avoid that particular awkwardness. “Has the party started already?”
“Depends if Jason has shown up yet,” Dick told her, smiling feebly. Kori chuckled. “But I told Bruce and Selina I’d try to keep him reigned in as much as possible, so let’s get going in case he has.”
Rachel climbed into the back seat as Kori got in the passenger. Though it was clean and smelled like fresh pine, when Dick revved the Mercedes, which barely purred, she involuntarily reminisced of the McLaren’s significant vibrations by comparison.
It wasn’t a horribly long drive, but the half an hour it took to get to the estate of Wayne Manor dragged as Rachel did everything in her power to clear thinking of a certain subject. Dick and Kori did most of the talking, mostly exciting chatter of just meeting people and what they would wear. Rachel gazed out of the window as they went through the city. Trick or treaters were already out in bunches, happily running as parents did their best to catch up with them, yelling all the while.
Then, slowly, they entered the grounds of Wayne territory, well outside of the city limits. Perched at the flat top of a hill, like Mount Olympus, was a massive manor, one Rachel had seen only in pictures. Many lights placed in trees were illuminating the building and premise around it, like spotlights. With crowds already flowing around in the visible light, sauntering around in colorful packs like random assortments, the party was clearly already in full swing.
They drove past the gates with large owls on either end, to the left of where the convocation was taking place mainly, into a darker, grassy area filled with vehicles, acting as the parking lot. Some formal men wearing tuxedos waved their white-gloved hands, directing them.
“Let’s boogie,” Dick grinned. Kori clapped excitedly as she too exited, Rachel closely behind, tugging her frilly skirt lower.
It turned out, however, she didn’t need to be self-conscious.
The first party-goers Rachel saw on the edge of the mix of things were some of the most brazenly dressed vampires and elves she’d ever seen, making her go pink in the cheeks. Averting her eyes upwards, she followed Kori and Dick, who were heading straight into the manor.
Wayne Manor was a modern Dracula’s castle. A couple hundred people filled its depths, flooded the hallways, occupied its guest rooms, celebrating the most riveting night of the year that certainly charged the air, all of them unrepeatably dressed. As Rachel followed behind Kori and Dick (the latter of whom seemed to be greeting everybody), not once did she see the exact same costume, though perhaps a few variants of the same theme. Passing them by in the grand hall was a terrifically ornate ogre costume that had clearly been designed with stilts under the seaweed green plastic, as the figure was nine feet tall and there was a clinking noise as they stepped past Rachel. And Rachel had seen centaur costumes before, but never did she witness someone pull off an entire Griffin suit, feathers, talons, wings, and all.
In the dining hall where the Wayne’s held balls and charity dinners and everyone seemed to be more or less gathering, among 1950’s robots, smelly mummies, and a pair dressed as Kylo Ren and Rey holding hands, Dick led Kori and Rachel over to someone to finally stop and talk to.
“Hey Timbo, hey Steph.”
The couple was dressed as superheroes, Stephanie Brown a rather attractive one with yellow boots and a tight green outfit plus headband, Tim a fairly stodgy one donning a yellow-blue suit with a ridiculous black mask that escaped his face like raven wings.
“Wolverine and Jean Grey?” Kori cleared up. “How cute!”
“He’s about the right height,” a new voice sniggered from behind Rachel. They all turned and Rachel gave a small grimace at how obvious it was that said person had just been checking out her behind.
Jason Todd was loosely portraying an ancient Egyptian pharaoh. Loosely, because the pleated kilt began at his waist and only went down, which left much of his upper body completely bare besides golden wrist bracelets and a leopard skin thrown over his shoulders. A golden goblet filled with a poisonous green liquid was in one hand, which splashed dangerously as he threw his arms out wide.
“Look at us all here!” he addressed loudly as if they weren’t a mere five feet away, “my dearest brothers, how many years has it been since we stood together?”
“About two and a half hours, when Selina said you better watch your shit,” answered Dick, bemused.
Jason closed his eyes slowly, reeling his head back, majestically reminiscing. “It seemed a millennia ago, when my reign was still young…”
“At least you won’t have the time to order your people to build a gaudy temple in your name.”
Rachel turned quickly towards the new feminine, cat-like purring of a voice. Selina Wayne-Kyle, arm-in-arm with her tall, foreboding husband, was approaching them, the pair dressed simply in togas, golden diadems atop their heads- Zeus and Hera.
Selina eyed her second eldest’s golden goblet wearily. “Easy on the absinthe, Jason…”
Jason waved off her concerns. “It’s colored water for show. Don’t let anyone-“ he hiccupped- “tell you different.”
Rachel chuckled with Kori and a few of the others. Bruce Wayne-Kyle’s royal blue eyes traversed slowly, resting on Kori.
“Kori Anders,” he greeted with both a little warmth and a little formal to his tone, “I’m glad you could make it. Richard has been excited to have you attend your first Wayne Halloween bash.”
Green eyes a little too wide to be entirely casually comfortable, Kori, in a pleasant voice, said, “Thank you for having me. It’s a very nice change- Jump City doesn’t celebrate Halloween to this level. Rachel and I would survive on scary movie nights to commemorate.”
Royal blue eyes slid sideways to Rachel, like the green ones of his wife beside him.
Oh, great, Rachel thought before she said anything, spotlights.
And then a new voice emerged.
“Here I thought you would have brewed potions in your dorm out of rat spleens and beetle juice.”
That voice shouldn’t have been that familiar to Rachel, as if she’d heard it for a year straight rather than the one night nearly three months ago. Bruce Wayne-Kyle looked in the same direction as everyone else now, over his left shoulder, averting the spotlight.
There he was, emeralds as vivid and focused as ever, the same exact expression he’d had over dinner of a furrowed brow, and once again wearing all black- he appeared to be a sleeveless ninja.
“It would fit, after all,” Damian Wayne said, crooking an eyebrow at Rachel.
Dick and Kori (plus the other two brothers who Rachel assumed had at some point been gossiped to) whipped their heads from Damian to Rachel like a tennis match. The two depicting the Greek gods appeared unaware.
Rachel stared at him for a second. She didn’t want to ferment any boiling blood, so she, painfully, kept her tone as friendly as possible.
“That’s for the rest of the year. I act as normal as possible on Halloween,” she gave him a small half-smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Emeralds bore into her with a steely glint and Rachel was rather proud she wasn’t folding.
The briefest flash of this man arching his back as he lay over her the last time she saw him, her nails digging into his shoulders.
“Sounds like you were meant for the Gotham life,” Selina cut in cheerfully.
“Still not as creepy as my last roommate,” Stephanie-the-Marvel-superhero had begun saying.
Rachel didn’t tune in fully for a fleeting moment. She adjusted her eyes to settle on anything else but him. Why was he looking at her? Why did he even care? He’d had her, what more was there?
Risking a glance his way, Rachel saw Damian gazing indirectly at a crowd of party-goers to his left, ignoring what he was looking at… maybe even determinedly so…
During concentrating being unaware, without her even realizing it, other people had entered their private folds. Meanwhile, Bruce and Selina had left. Tim and Steph were now chatting with an array of dressed-up figures (that included ninja Damian, so she quickly glanced away), and Rachel found herself intimately surrounded by the Hogwarts students, Dick and Kori, and Jason the pharaoh.
“Is it always like, this?” Kori asked the brothers, gesturing to all of the animated party-going around her.
“It’s a fairly normal turn out,” Dick said, proudly looking about. Just behind them, an astronaut was pouring what looked like red wine into a clear plastic cup for a woman dressed as a school girl holding up a large sign that read ‘NOTICE ME SENPAI’.
“And we’re always looking forward to the new faces every year,” Jason said enthusiastically, practically rubbing arms with Rachel, who hadn’t noticed this closeness. He wrapped his arm around her slender shoulder, so that the maybe-green-water-but-maybe-it-actually-is-absinthe filled golden goblet was right under her nose, giving her a slight squeeze.
“Aren’t you glad you got away from your bat spleens to come be normal with us for a day, Rach?” he asked, a not unattractive upwards curl at the end of his mouth.
Dick shot him a warning look of sorts.
“Well, I’m sure there’s a lot of new people the hosting family has to greet,” Rachel said slyly. “Probably shouldn’t focus on just one.”
Jason scoffed, his arm still around Rachel. “Please. This one-“ he gestured towards Dick with his free hand- “will be unavailable periodically throughout the night,” Kori blushed furiously, Dick dropped his head, eyes shutting tight, “Tim and Steph will get pretty social, but mainly stand in their own bubble. To top it off, there’s the- well, actually, Damian was chatting up some girl with the white hair and a white skull painted on her face for a while earlier on. That’s progress for him.”
“Hm?” Rachel found herself reluctantly inquiring, like a reflex, hating herself.
“I know,” Jason answered back, “I couldn’t tell if she was dressing up for Day of the Dead, or if she wanted to be a skeleton and couldn’t afford a costume, but-“ he paused. Rachel lifted his arm off her shoulders.
“I’m going to get a drink.”
“I can-“ Jason tried saying, but Rachel was already walking off. She heard Kori quickly strike up a conversation behind her to avoid any awkwardness.
Unfortunately, most of the drinks and food were placed along a wall-to-wall length table on the other side of the room. She walked as evenly as she could, straight-faced, past the group consisting of Tim, Stephanie, and others. Between platters full of fancy hors d’oeuvres were bottles of wine, water, and soda set next to clear plastic party cups. Rachel took one and opted to pour herself some red wine.
And suddenly someone was in her personal space again.
“Hi!”
Rachel looked up distractedly to see a blob of green. A thin, Latino boy her height with dyed grass-green hair was standing there, cheesing hard like he’d just won the lottery. He was wearing what appeared to be a green tiger outfit, like a jumper.
“Hello?” Rachel said back uncertainly.
“Do you remember me?” the person asked, goofiness and joy radiating from every pore of his body. He rather had the charisma of the loyal anime character that followed and hero-worshipped the protagonist. “We met at a dinner a few months back when the gang all met Kori? You were there, I was there,” he added unnecessarily.
Slowly, it dawned on her. With utter focus, she controlled her face.
“Right, I remember,” she admitted.
“I’m Garfield,” he reintroduced. “Rachel, right?”
“Mhmm,” was all Rachel said.
“I was hoping to catch up with you after that dinner,” he painfully reminded her, “but I think you got to your car before I got your nu- I mean, before I could.”
Rachel said nothing, opting to take a sip of wine instead. She could think of nothing interesting to say here, feeling a reluctance.
Someone was glaring at her, she could suddenly feel. With the merest half-glance over Garfield’s shoulder, she knew who it was.
So she then, as if she were suddenly inclined to act out, gave into the attempted conversation spiritedly.
“Vegan, right?” she found herself asking. “I thought that was pretty cool.”
Garfield’s eyes lit up. “All my life! I mean, it’s cool if other people aren’t, you specifically, but wouldn’t it make a great change-“
“Excuse me.”
Oh boy.
Garfield stopped his dialogue of veganism as he and Rachel both looked to the newcomer, which was obviously Damian. With a constantly furrowed brow, it seemed, it was hard to tell if he was actually glaring at the pair or not. Rachel didn’t give him the full acknowledgment of turning towards him, merely glaring at him sideways.
“Yes?” Rachel asked, as Garfield seemed caught off-guard.
Damian raised a brow.
“You’re in the way,” he told Rachel directly. He shifted his hand, calling attention to an empty plastic cup of his own. “Which is what people generally mean when they say excuse me. Kindly move.”
“Oh,” Garfield laughed, “sorry, Dame.” He turned towards Rachel and jerked his head hopefully. “Want to go outside with me?”
The only thing Rachel really noticed was the muscle in Damian’s jaw work once with a reflexing twitch, just like it had that night when they stood closer than even now.
“I’d love to,” Rachel emphasized. Smugly, she turned to face Damian’s narrowed expression. “Excuse us.”
Walking straight past him (oh, he smelled nice for a ninja) without giving into the temptation to flicker a glance sideways, Rachel led Garfield, not really knowing where she was going. They got to the hallway when Garfield tugged her wrist to go left, pulling her along. Despite the victory she’d just prevailed, a downwards curl came to her mouth at the touch.
Wayne Manor’s east balcony was magnificent. Orange and purple Christmas lights twisted neatly around stone railing and not only was it mostly devoid of people, what were actual live bats fluttered out of trees, diving onto one of the circular tables set out, where it appeared feed had been laid for them.
“Let’s sit over here, those things creep me out,” Garfield said as Rachel was just about to take a step closer, enchanted. Reluctantly, she followed the boy to the farthest table away from where the bats were dive-bombing.
It was an okay time, admittedly. Like hanging out with the friend of a friend. Never being genuinely interested, Rachel couldn’t think of anything much to say, but Garfield himself did plenty of talking. After a while, the cool air was starting the make her legs shiver and the top-hat repeatedly tried falling sideways off her head.
When she pulled up short after taking a dry sip of wine, the hyper boy finally stopped babbling away.
“I can get you a refill!” he said earnestly.
“Oh, uh, thanks?”
He took her cup, careful to brush her fingers as he did so, and left with a wink. Rachel sighed quietly when he was gone.
But she wasn’t alone for long.
“Rachel, wasn’t it?”
She looked up. The queen of both the household and Olympus, Selina Wayne-Kyle, was standing next to her, holding a golden goblet identical to the one her second eldest had.
“Hi!” Rachel said. “Yeah, it was- I am.”
Selina nodded. “May I?” she gestured to the recently vacant chair.
“Of course,” Rachel said, wide-eyed watching Selina sit, watching her back.
“You left the party rather quickly,” she started off. “A little much for you?”
“It wasn’t that at all,” Rachel told her. “This has been as amazing as I could’ve imagined. Kori and I used to dream of hosting a party like this during college.” She hesitated, then, unsure if she was overstepping or not, voiced, “I’m more surprised to see you out here.”
Selina flashed a guilty smile. “The bores from Wayne Enterprises are currently surrounding my husband. When I get the need to decamp his company, this place is always safe.
“The bats,” she answered to Rachel’s questioning look, nodding to the trees where more dive-bombed a table from. “ He avoids the east balcony every year because this is where we always stage the bat show. They frighten him.”
Rachel frowned. “Halloween must be his favorite time of the year then,” thinking of the paper ones she and Kori had hanging from their ceiling.
Selina laughed. “You’d never know it. He puts on a brave face. I think I’m even close to swaying him in dressing up as a bat for one year.” She turned and waved to someone over her shoulder behind them. Out of thin air, an elderly man with a balding head and pencil mustache festively dressed as a zombified butler appeared with a chateau decanter filled with red wine. He poured some into Selina’s golden goblet.
“Having some yourself yet, Al?” she asked the helper fondly.
“My job isn’t nearly close to finished yet, madam,” the butler told her firmly. He stepped away, leaving her with a smile.
“So, Selina pressed on, swirling her wine, “pray tell, are you not having a good time at the party because of our Damian?”
Rachel reared her head back, shocked. Selina appeared casual, as if they were simply discussing the chilly weather to pass up the time.
“I thought you didn’t notice that,” Rachel divulged weakly.
“My dear, Bruce and I have been circulating social standings for too long not have noticed a look and change in tone so blatantly obvious. I was only surprised we were the only ones tactful enough to not watch the pair of you like a television…”
Rachel gave an uncomfortable laugh. Selina smiled, but her eyes grew sharper.
“If he did anything-“
“He didn’t,” Rachel lied quickly. She made an apologetic face in case cutting her off seemed rude. “We just had dinner while Kori was meeting Dick’s friends and didn’t hit it off so well.”
Rachel wasn’t sure Selina quite believed her. Those green eyes watched her for a moment, reminding Rachel oddly of the way a house cat stared.
At last, she smiled.
“Well, if that’s all it was.” Selina stood tall, checking back behind them. “You’ll want to dive out of here, but go further left,” she instructed, “to avoid that boy. You looked bored senseless while he prattled on.”
As quickly as the lady of the manor appeared, she left, leaving Rachel feeling somewhat odd. Coming to her senses, she stood tall and directed herself in the way Selina told her, keen to avoid an hour of sprightly droning.
More private sections of Wayne Manor opened up. Rachel would’ve had the thought that she ought not to be wandering down this way, but Selina had told her to do so, giving her permission. A far less decorated hall developed, as though it wasn’t meant to be seen by guests, with heavy oak doors every fifteen feet on the left and large windows overlooking a garden on the right, but Rachel took little notice. Her eyes were on the floor as she walked, contemplating why she ever agreed to come tonight.
Which is why she didn’t notice.
“Can you bother to tell me why you’re down the bedroom hallway?”
Her head popped up. She turned. Leaning against a wall, arms folded, was again Damian Wayne, who she unconsciously walked a few steps past. He was glaring after her.
She stared before saying, “W-where am I?”
Emerald eyes narrowed, as they seemed too often do. “This is the living quarters, where our bedrooms are from whence we lived here. They’re mainly vacant now.” Damian jerked his attention to the large five oak doors lined up every fifteen feet. He made a face. “Did someone tell you to meet them here?”
There was definitely an accusatory tone in his voice. Rachel swelled up indignantly.
“Yeah, maybe someone did,” she shot at him. It was the part-truth. Someone told her unknowingly to go there, at least.
Damian made a disgusted noise in his throat. His expression became close to a sneer. “Figures,” he muttered darkly.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Rachel demanded angrily. “And were you following me or something?”
Damian stood up straight off the wall, arms still folded. “I thought- I assumed you were trying to leave early again.”
Anger sapped out of Raven’s head, but she wished it hadn’t. She wanted to be mad. But, instead, she found herself repeating, “What is that supposed to mean?”
His face calmed, but was still on the hostile side. “That you might have a pattern you follow.” The furiousness returned as he gazed bitterly to the left, away from her. “Logan doesn’t know what’s coming.”
“Who the fuck is- oh. Oh, right,” Rachel rubbed her temple, remembering.
Now Damian was watching her curiously, anger still etched in his face. Rachel imagined her expression was awfully similar.
“You left.”
The words were unexpected. So the return wasn’t given with the same heat Rachel had pictured she’d deliver it with.
Abandoning all pretense, she spat, “You booted me.”
Damian made a strange face. “What?”
Resisting the urge to snarl, Rachel, taking a step closer, still said nastily, “You’ve been glaring at me all night and it’s not justified. You had your fun with me however you wanted, then kicked me to the curb before you fell asleep. So you’ve no right!”
“What the hell are you on about?! I never did such a thing.”
Stamping her foot, bringing her another step closer, Rachel said, “Right before you knocked out, you told me to help myself to whatever was in the fridge before.” Her purplish-blue eyes narrowed in a way that would’ve made Damian’s proud. “Before I what? Left, of course? Got out to leave you alone now that you were done?”
Damian ran a hand through his neat, jagged hair. He had an odd, frantic expression on his face now that was mixed with confusion.
“I don’t know what I said,” he said abruptly, “it was one in the morning and I was spent!” He had the nerve to point a finger at Rachel while he went on, which made her blusteringly go pink in the cheeks. “You drained me. I had no bodily fluids left, I can’t remember falling asleep?”
Furiously red in the face now, Rachel muttered, “I know what you were going to say.”
Damian was red in the cheeks as well, but his eyes still narrowed menacingly. “You’ve no idea what I was going to say. Go to sleep sounds more like it.”
And there it was. What Rachel had wrestled internally with since then. What Kori had suggested earlier that very day that had disengaged her from the conversation.
Had she been that girl? Had she leapt to a conclusion hotly that spiraled into a three-month turmoil?
Well, it would have felt rather stupid to wake up Damian and ask him to please finish that sentence, a small voice in the back of her head reasoned.
Damian had taken a step closer. Their chests were nearly touching.
“I wasn’t going to tell you to leave,” he told her. “We had a great night.”
“It was,” Rachel said, though that was putting it mildly. She stared back up at him, unsure again of what else to say. In the moonlight especially, those eyes were dazzling.
She nearly jumped at the guttural sound he suddenly made.
“Fuck it,” were the romantic words he grumbled as he drew a hand up to hold her face and leaned in. Rachel instinctively raised herself to meet him. Lips crashed together.
It was as if the last three months had never happened, as if neither had ever experienced any anguish over the other. The top hat fell backward from Rachel’s head to the ground. Damian’s hand slid from holding her jaw to over the body, his thumb caressing the skin of her abdomen through the fishnet as it traveled, to hold her at the waist. Rachel’s leg lifted and tried to curl itself around him. They broke apart, panting and as hot as the first time.
“Which one was your room?” Rachel asked desperately looking at the doors.
“Over here,” Damian led her, his voice husky and urgency apparent. They went through one of the oak doors through a minimalistic room, comprising of only a large bed and a couple of wardrobes. Damian pulled Rachel eagerly by the hand to the king-size before turning back to her.
“Kori will be expecting me at some time,” Rachel said breathlessly, already trying to remove her own skirt.
“We have time,” Damian said with confidence. “Last I saw, she made off to ride broomsticks with my brother at the back of the house.”
Rachel snorted, giggling. Her eyes fell hungrily to his bare chest being revealed as he pulled away the top of his costume. “Why did you choose to be a ninja, anyway?” she asked.
“I’m an assas-“ Damian stopped, shaking his head, “never mind, it doesn’t matter. Come here.”
Rachel nodded slowly, drinking in his fully displayed ripped torso. Her mouth felt wetter than usual. When she got to him, their lips found each other aggressively, his hands were on her waist again, hers on his chest. His hands moved slowly down over her butt, which was far more revealed and skin-baring in fishnet without the frilly pettiskirt, and to the top of her thighs. He hooked them in and lifted her almost effortlessly, spinning them around as her legs successfully wrapped around his waist and dropped her back first on the mattress, where they continued making out, him laying over her.
Wet kisses came up her neck, chin, and found her mouth again. Rachel’s left hers open, breathing heavily like pants, their tongues allowed to dance for the first time in months
Rachel was moaning into his mouth every other kiss, but had no embarrassment about it as Damian heatedly returned them, though hers turned into more of a panting gasp when he pushed their throbbing pelvic regions together. While Rachel gasped, again and again, his kisses went across her cheek. She felt his tongue trace her jawline down to kiss her neck. Her nails dug into his back, trailing downwards themselves. They dipped into his waistline, trying to pull them down.
Sitting back on his knees, which were between hers, Damian took care of that part. Rachel copied him, sitting up, to trickily undo the tight zipper that held the bralette of her one-piece teddy up, peeling it down to at least the midway point of her abdomen. Damian’s (who was once again fully, gloriously naked before Rachel as ninja-assassin bottoms hit the floor) eyes were seductively hazy as he drooled over her bared breasts. Rachel angled her chest invitingly. Damian arched his shoulders downward, sweeping over her. Panting, running a hand through her own hair, Rachel’s eyes rolled up as Damian kissed and sucked.
“Fuck,” she susurrated. She felt it rubbing against her hip. “You’re so hard,” she wetly said into his ear.
His vigor in sucking increased at that, though his mouth left her neck to find hers again straight after, hands running up greedily on her fishnet thighs. Rachel’s pale fingers traveled down hard abs. Damian sighed when she found it, caressed it.
As she pulled on its length, Damian gently rested his forehead on hers, their heated breaths entangling. With the emeralds so close she could count the specks of gold in them, and his hand moving slowly over her hip down to between her legs, Rachel’s insides were churning.
“You kill me.” It was like an admission.
Rachel returned his words with more heated kisses, arrhythmically breathing on each other through flared nostrils. Damian’s large hand was rubbing her there, over the last scantily clad bit of her costume. Right before Rachel was going to push his chest away to pull them down (she had to step into the one-piece at the feet and pull it all the way up to the breasts), impatiently, Damian hooked fingers in-between the material and saturated skin to simply pull them as much to the side as he could, successfully revealing her, where his fingers rubbed.
Positioning himself better over her (Rachel spread her legs further, hungrily looking up at him, his back arched), half-lidded emeralds trailed her body.
The head she’d just stroked kneaded her, enjoying the drenched feeling, gleaning by the look on Damian’s face as that happened.
Then he pushed it in.
Knees instinctively curling, Rachel wrapped her legs halfway around him, holding him closer. His back was still arched, shoulders up, where Rachel held him with her hands, looking down at her with an amatory expression while he thrusted, filling her. So predominately she could hear them as it went in and out…
Idly, she wondered if her grip was painful at all on his shoulder, for she was certainly digging into skin, leaving marks. Maybe he liked it…
He twisted her legs, sitting up straighter himself, uncurling her left leg so that it went straight up, and rested her calf and ankle on his shoulder. Rachel saw him give an almost complacent crooked smirk down at her ass (which was angled now probably so that he could get a good view) and nearly swatted him for it. But holding her by the leg for leverage in a way, Damian began rocking them back and forth, deeper than before at a faster pace, bringing Rachel’s forgiveness.
They held hands with a tight grip when Rachel’s snapped to the one of his by her knee. His spare one was roaming, rubbing her thighs, circling her bottom. Her spare was rubbing herself. Damian’s face looked like was going to lose it watching between that, her jostling breasts, and hearing the words uttered out of Rachel’s mouth. Rachel herself was going mad with the deepness he was going, the perfect angle, the way his hips heavily smacked into hers.
The moment was close and they both knew it.
Damian leaned over her again, connecting their mouths, holding her underneath the thighs. Rachel wrapped an arm around his body, her hand glued to his butt to keep that angle, as her other held his face as they made out, moaning into each other. The churning was at a bursting sensation that she’d held back to keep it going, but would no longer be denied.
It came; fireworks exploded. The reason for the party had to have been to make this sensational moment happen. She and Damian finished, together, with him inside her. During, their groanings and stifling had broken their lips apart and the audibleness let out was such that each put a hand over the other’s mouth to cover the noise, just in case. Rachel gently nibbed the edge of Damian’s finger, which probably didn’t help matters.
Shakily, they slowly fell apart. Damian laid on his back next to her, their sides touching, catching their breath. Rachel impulsively snuggled closer. He wrapped an arm over her head, gently holding the shoulder on Rachel’s other side. There was something compelling about his unrhythmic breathing.
After a while, they spoke.
“Certain individuals might wonder where we’re at,” Damian had said evenly.
Though she was very reluctant to admit it, Rachel knew that Kori had probably guessed right where Rachel was at by now. She looked up at Damian’s expression, which was a little daydreamy, staring up at the ceiling.
Those magnificent green eyes came down to her.
“What are you thinking about?”
Rachel thought long and hard. She traded off with Damian, choosing to look up at the ceiling as she answered.
“Garfield,” she said consideringly. Damian’s stiffening made her look down at him again- his expression was incredulous.
“He still has my cup of wine somewhere,” Rachel said seriously. “I’m thirsty.”
Damian groaned, attempting to move his arm from around her, but Rachel held his hand there with a twinkling laugh as she rolled over him even further.
“You kill me,” Damian repeated tiredly.
They lay there for a while longer, but knew it was time to get back to the party, reveal themselves to the public. It was fun getting dressed again- neither could really stop watching the other, which caused a couple of imbalanced stumbles. Damian opened the bedroom door when they were properly ready, devoid of sweat, and they left hand-in-hand.
Kori, halfway past tipsy, squealed at the sight, but had the decency to pretend to not smugly know where Rachel had been. Dick grinned. Later on, they passed by the North-West wing (how many did they have?). Damian grabbed a dusty bottle, a couple of glasses from what he called the third generation’s wine cellar (“stop flexing,” Rachel told him in a severe, annoyed voice), and they made their way to the east balcony.
Rachel smiled back when Selina gave her a knowing wink from across the room on the way.
Together, they sat at the very table the bats dive-bombed on the east balcony, jumping back and laughing every time they swooped in far too close.
It was amazing and more wonderful than anything she could compare it to. Rachel might’ve dreamt it all, had she not woken up the next morning to someone prodding her side, telling her to stop hogging the covers.
He was there.