To want more
by Te
July 27, 2007

Disclaimers: Really not mine.

Spoilers/Timeline: References to events in the "Titans Tomorrow" storyline. Takes place several years after 'now.'

Summary: It's maybe almost kind of -- a weak point.

Ratings Note/Warnings: Sexual content some readers may find to be disturbing.

Author's Note: Kind of an AU sequel thing to Less than kind. Written for this, which is absolutely another sort of warning.

Acknowledgments: Pixie and Betty did some hand-holding.

Carrie really doesn't really know what she's doing. She -- she absolutely has that part figured out, which Batman always says is the first step to learning how to not just do something, but to do it *right*.

If not the first time, then *every* time after that. She really likes the second part of that sentence. When she thinks about it, she's flooded with just -- images. Feelings. The fluttering thing in her belly and the darker, hungrier *thing* a little further down. Batman is brave, smarter than anyone, good, generous, *wise*. Batman is -- everything she wants and everything she wants to be, and just because she knows that she's the only one he ever relaxes around doesn't mean she doesn't want more.

So -- she has to focus on making the first part as right as she can. He tells her things, now. Shows her things that don't really have anything to do with the Mission.

The Robin he had before her (the one who *betrayed* him) had been big all over in ways Carrie can't fake even a little, and her hair had been pretty and blonde instead of the carroty mess Carrie's stuck with, but there are ways around that. When she's training now, she sticks with the tight bike shorts which let her really move and a sports bra. They don't make her feel very sexy, but they do show off the curves she has.

Most of the pictures show the other Robin with really long and unpractical hair, and she's never going to grow hers that way, but in the later pictures her hair is short and waves a little above her head. Carrie can't manage waves, but the spikes look pretty cool.

The glasses -- well, she needs them. She *doesn't*, however, always need them to train, and when Batman had watched her moving and *doing* without them, he'd nodded and said "good idea," in that soft and kind of light tenor which means he's being Tim under all the armor.

Being... when she thinks about kissing Batman, she can always feel the cowl under her fingers, but -- he doesn't wear the armor to *bed*. And, when he talks to her, then --

("Are you comfortable, Robin?")

It's soft, even when he's trying to make it Batman. There's something about *that*, about having her there that makes things... it feels disloyal to think 'better,' so she doesn't. It feels different, and it's maybe almost kind of -- a weak point. A place to *strike*.

("Mm. Vicious.")

So she changes her pajamas, too. Her father had made a lot of stupid little *comments* about 'their little girl growing up,' but her mother hadn't said a word when Carrie had pointed to the things she wanted. It takes a few days to get used to sleeping in silk -- to sleeping in *panties* instead of soft, loose pants -- but she manages it.

After that... well, she thinks about things like makeup, and wonders if she should wear more dresses and skirts so that Batman can see her that way before she trains, but it doesn't really feel like it will help anything. She knows for a fact that the old Robin only wore lipstick when she was in her Robin suit.

So, really, after *that*, it's just a matter of working up the nerve to do it. She's been sleeping in Batman's bed -- Tim's bed -- as much as she could manage, and finding the nerve for *that* had been hard enough. Most of the time, it's still hard for her to get really deeply asleep for a while when she does -- and she keeps thinking one day Batman will kick her out for that -- because *Batman* doesn't really get to sleep until sometime after she does, but... but.

It's really just one more step.

She doesn't do anything right away when she's in Tim's bed next, other than making herself relax in every way Batman's ever taught her --

("Your poise may someday be your only armor.")

-- forcing her breathing into something like correct, ignoring the feel of her nipples against the silk, *trying* --


"Yeah, B?" She's gonna have to start all over again --

"You -- this. This is all -- for me."

In the dark, Batman still knows that she's blushing, but *she* doesn't have to know. Not all the way. "There's no one else. I l --"

"This -- there should be."

*Who*? Some boy from school who barely knows how to read and *doesn't* know how to think? Some... some other guy? "No," she says, quiet and *firm*, and wraps her arms around his chest.

It's bare, like always when he sleeps, and she can hear the steady pound of his heart. And she can hear the way his breathing isn't -- perfect.

Like hers. "No," she says again, and kisses him where the Bat should be, quick and a little messy, so she can get as many places as she can before he --

The hand on the back of her neck isn't hard, or painful, or anything like that. It's just that it doesn't need a gauntlet to be Batman's.

"Oh -- please let me --"

"You -- don't know what you want."

Carrie presses back against the hand, thinks about it, and throws her leg over one of Batman's. She's never done this before, and she --

When she *moves* --

"Oh, I -- I want you to kiss me, and I want you to touch me, my breasts and my -- my vulva. And --" Carrie presses down and shivers all over. She can't just say *anything*. This is -- it's Batman. "This, too."


He almost never says her name. Not like -- he's never said it like this, like it's breath and -- some kind of everything. "Tim," she says, and she thinks she sounds too shaky and too *young*, and then she knows it did, because Tim has pushed her off and rolled her onto her back.

She closes her eyes. She can't -- she didn't mean to make this so *awkward* --

And she's too surprised to gasp when Tim kisses her, but that means that she doesn't do it and embarrass herself, as opposed to just taking a few moments to feel it -- hard and *open* -- before she tries slipping her tongue in.

Batman -- Tim *moans*, then, and cups her face. He's lifting her head off the bed a little, leaning in, and if the lights were on she'd be able to see him covering her, but with the lights off there's no reason not to keep her eyes closed and feel *that*.

The moans make her tongue feel tingly, and that fluttery thing inside her is going crazy. She never thought he'd kiss her this hard, but maybe -- maybe tomorrow her mouth will hurt, like *something* always hurts after a training session. Batman *never* makes her wonder if she's dreaming all this.

Carrie wraps her arms around Tim's neck and licks his tongue, and holds on, and --

And moans, deeper than she thought she *could*, because Tim pulls her panties down and rubs her, squeezes her, touches her --

Drops her, and the bounce makes her gasp, at last, or maybe it's just that she hadn't been breathing. "B -- Tim --"

"Just me," he says. "For this -- Carrie," he says, and his other hand is on her face. She wants to press into that touch, feel herself in Batman's palm, but it's too light. For a crazy moment she wonders if she's blushing too much for it to be comfortable to touch her, but then she remembers that *human* bodies don't work that way. If he wants to just... *drift* his fingers over her face, then he can do that.

Especially since his other hand...

She hadn't thought it would feel this good to just be *cupped* like this, but it's all diffuse pressure and something heavier whenever he squeezes and digs in against her mound with the heel of his hand.

Wriggling doesn't make it better or worse, though, so she isn't sure if she should be still or not --

"Carrie. You have to... give me specifics," he says, and curls his fingers in, in her hair --

She knows there was a question there. It was in the words, if not the voice. It's just -- suddenly she feels *really* hairy, and she wonders if she was supposed to shave there. She's been doing her legs and armpits, but not there, and she thinks if his fingers get tangled she might scream in a really bad way --

"Carrie," he says again, and taps her cheek with his other hand.

It's been almost a *year* since he had to touch her to really get her attention. "Sorry, B -- Tim. I -- maybe if you... pushed between?"

"Here?" His fingers -- right around her -- her *vagina*, and she needs better words for this, but she'd really been hoping he'd use the words he liked, so she'd know what they were. It's -- not ticklish.

It's a little shivery, and it makes her think of having him inside her. His --

"Or here," and that's -- she's almost sure she recognizes the callus from his thumb, but mostly she's sure that it's *good*.

"Um. Oh -- that -- keep doing -- *oh*," she says, and her hips *jump* without her position, and Batman isn't touching her clit on that good spot, anymore, and that's really terrible --

"Should I... would you like me to hold you still?"

The gauntlets, and how they would feel on her *hips*, and it would just be his hand, but that's still -- she grabs the hand by her face and tugs it down to her hip, pushes it against her hip, and she can't seem to work her fingers well enough to work *his*, but, when he catches her, he *grips*.

And his other fingers are kind of -- testing at her, looking for that spot, she'd bet, and holding still is the best way to let him find it *quickly*, but if she didn't have Tim's hand on her hip to remind her of that, she wouldn't be able to manage it.

It's not that she hadn't known how gentle Batman could be -- sometimes he manages to wash her scrapes and gashes and bandage them so quickly she hardly even knows he's *been* there -- it's just that she hadn't really...

It's the other side of that first kiss, she thinks. She'd been picturing a kind of *median* for this, as opposed to all the extremes she's feeling --

"*There*," she says, and he squeezes her hip, and she -- stops trying to push. Or -- stops trying to push very hard. He strokes her there, and works his finger in a little circle, back and forth and back -- "Harder?"

She doesn't mean for it to be a question, but it is right up until he *gives* her harder, and then it's just -- it's like being washed over and tugged under, like maybe when she comes back to herself she'll be in a whole different bedroom, and Batman won't be there to hold her -- no, it's better than that, because she can hear Batman breathing, and she can smell Tim.

The lingering scent of armor, the cologne he wears when he goes out to pretend to be just some rich idiot, the warm smell that means he's slept, and the hints of sweat from the nightmares he has which never wake *her* up, at all. It's all of that, and the amazing, wonderful, *steady* feel of his finger, touching her right where she wants and nowhere else.

She wishes it could just be like this forever, but her body never pays attention to wishes like that when it's just *her* fingers, and it's not going to pay attention now.

It feels like giving up to pull her knees up and bite the side of her hand, but --

"Carrie," he says, in the voice that means Robin, means *now*, means -- just everything, and he tightens his hand when she shifts her hips, and it's a good thing she's biting her hand. It's not that she doesn't want him to hear her and know how good it is, it's just that she can't really listen to herself, right now.

All she wants is him, even if it's just his breath and everything he's doing --

Everything he's making her feel --

Hand or not, the noises are getting louder, and Carrie knows it's stupid to worry about them, but sometimes she thinks Batman has spent more time teaching her to be quiet than anything else. Tim's petting her hip with his thumb, and she *knows* it's to soothe her, but it really can't. She didn't really think she'd have to push herself through anything, she thought everything would just *happen* once it started --

"Perhaps -- trust me," and it's still the voice, but it's fuzzed, or maybe she is, or --

He lets her go, and she has about a second where she can stay still, but then his hand is on her mouth -- she can smell her own sweat, taste --

And then it's on her breast, through the silk, and she's only ever really felt herself up a little that way, and never like -- the pinch makes it feel like something's dropped, like she's empty inside --

"*Batman* -- oh no, I mean --"

"It's all right," he says, but it isn't, he'd *said*, and she's moving too much, she's too wet, he's *sliding* over her -- *in*, just for a second --

"Oh -- oh *fuck* --" And she bites her lip before she can say Batman *again*, and that's probably why the last thing she's aware of before everything just goes -- *everything* is the feel of her teeth pressing down, scraping --

Batman's fingers, pinching and *pushing* --

And she thinks, maybe, he says her name again, calls her Robin, but even if it's just Carrie, it's all right. Really, seriously all right. She feels like she's floating, a little, and taking a deep breath makes it more, somehow.

She feels like -- something good and bigger than she really is. But -- she sits up and -- stops. Everything feels all slippery and -- slick. More than it ever does when it's just her. She must've been even more turned-on than it felt like.

"Are you all right."

And okay, maybe it's a little silly to apologize about not keeping to the *name* protocol when 'Tim' sounds like that, but. "I'm good. Really good. And -- I'm sorry I couldn't keep calling you Tim," she says, closing her eyes and feeling for Tim instead of wasting time trying to pull shadows out of *gloom*. She catches an arm -- and loses it. "Batman --"

"Hm," Tim says, and when that arm bumps against her own, she knows he's sitting beside her. "I haven't give you much in the way of either incentive or reason to think of me as anything other than Batman."

Batman's always fair, except when nobody deserves anything like that. Mostly that means that Batman's always fair to *her*, but -- oh, she feels so *good*! "It's okay with me if it's okay with you, B," she says, and reaches out to touch his thigh. It's lean and hard, and if she searches, a little, there's a big, nasty old scar that makes Tim seem like a statue, or -- maybe if statues were more important than they are.

Batman covers her hand.

"I just wanted -- I wasn't going to do anything, unless you wanted me to."

"It's all right. I'm -- all right. You..." He squeezes her hand and lifts it away from himself. "Tonight, I wouldn't be thinking of you."

In her head, the other Robin, the dead Robin, the *bad* Robin -- she's laughing at Carrie, because she knows she'll always be Batman's first. In every possible way.

"You don't have to -- push yourself. Not in this way," he says, and covers Carrie's hand on her own thigh.

And she doesn't have to say it. She doesn't *want* to know, not for sure, but. "It's -- that other Robin. Stephanie," and the bedroom is too dark and too full. She wants to see Batman's eyes, but --

Batman squeezes her hand, and then shifts -- oh. He's straddling her, and this close, she can see the deeper shadow he makes. And his hands are on her face. "I never felt comfortable in the Robin suit. Not -- all the way."

"You're *Batman*," she says, and -- with that touch, he has to be able to feel her frown. She thinks that's enough --

"Hn. I *wanted* to be Robin, to be the bright, beautiful thing --" His thumbs on her cheekbones are moving almost too quickly for it to feel like she's being petted, as opposed to being -- a different kind of held. "I wanted to be who Batman needed, Carrie."

"Is this -- you already tried to make me stop wanting to be Robin. You know it's not gonna *work*," she says, reaching and waiting, a little, for Batman to catch her, stop her -- he doesn't. And his shoulders don't even feel tense, really. He's -- he's relaxed.

"No, Carrie. You're Robin. *My* Robin," he says, and pushes until one of his hands is in her hair, cracking more of the spikes and -- it feels like her head maybe didn't have a shape until he touched her there, cupped her --

Like her *mound* --

"And I was Bruce's Robin, when he was Batman. The fact that I wasn't the Robin I wished to be -- changed nothing."

Oh. She... "You should -- I'm not used to you trying to *teach* me things in that voice, B."

"A potential weakness," he says, and -- tugs her hair.

Carrie swallows and feels herself starting to flutter again, *want* again. "I'll fix it."

"Yes. You will."

And he moves again, but it's okay, because he moves her *with* him. He's not that big, but he's strong and sure -- he's Batman, and Carrie is over him again. Robin is over him, holding on -- "It's okay if you think about her. She was Robin, too."

"No," Batman says, and his voice is strong and sure, too. If she argues with that voice, she might not be allowed to stay here, or -- probably it would just be extra push-ups in the morning before school, but.

"Just -- something for you to think about, B."

"Noted," he says, and cups the back of her head again. "Sleep."

It won't be the first time she's gone to sleep horny in this bed. It makes her dreams -- really fucked-up and weird, usually. But Batman's dreams are maybe like that all the time.

Carrie hugs Batman tighter.