Show And Tell
The door is open, which is a little disappointing because Steph's been wanting to try out her new lock-picking skills on something, but she's been in the cave training so much she just hasn't found the time. But it's open, and Cass never seems to mind when she just drops by, although she gets the feeling that not many people do. The apartment is quiet, and Steph wonders if maybe Cass is out doing something even though it's daylight and the only time she voluntarily leaves her apartment is for patrol. Steph goes through the hallway and into the living room, and just stands there mortified for what seems like forever, her face flaring up like she'd eaten something made out of soy, which she is totally allergic to, not that giving it up is a hardship.
Cass is sitting on the couch. Watching porn. With the sound on mute.
Okay. Okay. This is --
There's no way that Cass didn't hear her come in, so backing up and getting the hell out of Dodge isn't going to work, and she can't just, like, walk in and say hi like everything's just fine and dandy, because, well, porn.
Not that Steph hasn't seen any. She's seen plenty. And it's not like she's a prude, it's just...
Weird. Crazy amounts of weird.
"Sit," Cass says, and Steph takes a few steps forward before her brain catches up with her body. Now she can see that Cass is wearing a bathrobe, her hair damp, and a towel dangling off the arm of couch. She's doing that cute, scrunched-up thing with her face that she does whenever she just doesn't get something.
And now Steph kind of figures it out, because Cass is looking at the TV almost exactly how she looks at books, like something she really wants to understand but can't, like her brain is betraying her.
Steph flops down on the couch next to her and says, "So..."
"It's wrong," Cass says, still staring at the TV. "Why?"
"Wrong?" Steph blinks and looks at the TV, and yep, still porn. A stacked blonde and an ugly, hairy guy with a big schlong, and she can't help but roll her eyes and say, "Why can't the boys ever be pretty?"
"Wrong," Cass repeats, making a wordless gesture with her hand that Steph doesn't quite understand.
"Like wrong how?" Steph asks. "I mean, not that I've done it lately, but it looks pretty normal to me."
"They're not... there." Cass scrunches her face some more. "Thinking of other things."
"Really?" Cass is so deeply cool. Seriously. Sometimes Cass makes her feel like she's back in first grade and she has the best thing ever for show and tell day. "What's she thinking about?"
Cass squints. "Groceries. Car payment."
"And him?"
"Drugs."
Steph glances back at the TV. "Like Viagra?"
"No," Cass says, miming. "Needle."
"Wow," Steph says. "That's... so wrong."
Cass nods. "Explain."
Steph shifts around and sits sideways, and doesn't mind the demand, because it's more like a plea, and unlike Batman, Cass only seems to demand when someone's life is in danger. Which is okay by Steph. "Well, this is, like, their job, you know? You go to work, you do your thing, sometimes it's really incredibly boring, and sometimes it's okay, but you're not really concentrating all the time on what you're doing because it's your job, and you do it because you have to. They go to work, have sex, and while they're doing it, they think about whether they left the stove on or whatever, or if you're Mr. Giant Johnson there, you think about when you'll get your next hit of smack."
Cass stares at her blankly.
"But you... love your job," Steph says slowly. "Crap. Okay. New analogy..."
Only she doesn't really have one. Because, really, sex is something you just do, not something you talk about, although, god, it would've been nice if someone had talked about it, because then she probably wouldn't have gotten pregnant before she even, like, drove a car.
So she crosses her arms, taps her nose, taps her foot, and totally fails to come up with anything useful to say.
"This would be so much easier if I could just show you," Steph says.
Cass tilts her head. "Okay."
"What?" Steph blurts. "I mean, um --"
"Show me," Cass insists.
And, okay. Cass is, like, so amazing and competent and just bad-ass that Steph forgets that there's stuff she doesn't know. Stuff everybody else is taught somehow, whether it's in health class, or at a weekend sleepover stealing an older sister's magazines, or from watching movies you're not supposed to see until you're old enough.
Cass once told her that if something's not working, you change it and make it work for you. She can do this. Somebody has to, and she can't trust any of the guys to do it, because their people skills just suck.
She can totally do this.
She'll just start small. A kiss. Has Cass ever been kissed? Steph doesn't know, and she feels awkward asking now, even though they're friends and that's what friends talk about, except every time they try, it seems like a supervillain shows up and needs an ass-kicking. At least Cass isn't knocking her out anymore -- which was so incredibly unfair -- but really, there hasn't been much time for anything but training.
Now she's just making excuses, and Cass deserves better than that.
Steph puts her brain on full stop, and just leans forward and does it. Kisses Cass. Cass is warm and she smells clean. Her lips are full, and it feels okay. Good. She can handle this.
Cass tilts her head and opens her mouth, and Steph has time to think, "Oh, boy," before Cass says hello with her lips and tongue and teeth. It's slick and a little messy, and really nice, and it makes sense that she would be just as freakishly talented at this as she is at everything else. A groan tickles her throat and she's getting turned on, because Cass kisses like... like...
Like she isn't thinking about anything else. Not a single thing.
Cass stops kissing her right at the moment Steph runs out of air, and she sits back, breathes in, and says, "Oh."
Maybe it's an epiphany that she should've been kissing girls right along with the boys. Or maybe it's just Cass, because Steph hasn't had a friend like her before, and isn't it supposed to be better with friends?
"Okay," Steph says, and licks her lips. "Wow."
"You taste like fruit," Cass says.
I'm wearing watermelon lip gloss, Steph doesn't say, because Cass kisses her again. Puts her hand on Steph's thigh, and Steph shivers. She's used to aggressive, but this isn't the same, because Cass doesn't bother to ask if she's cold. Cass knows she isn't, and --
The possibilities are just occurring to her.
Flying fast and furious in her brain, actually, and Cass spreads her fingers and slides her hand up Steph's thigh, and Steph sucks on her tongue because it feels good, and there's been precious little of that around for either of them.
Steph reaches out and touches Cass's neck, and Cass leans into it just a little, enough to know that it's okay. Cass doesn't seem to be having a problem, but Steph still has to deal with the 'where do I put my hands?' issue that always pops up when she does this with somebody new.
She slips her hand under the collar of Cass's robe and feels the smooth, warm skin -- until it's not smooth anymore, and Steph just bets diamonds to doughnuts that's an old bullet wound -- so she's a little distracted when Cass pulls off her shirt.
It twists her ponytail off-kilter, and the cool air makes her suddenly feel naked even though she has more clothes on than Cass does. But then Cass kisses her neck, and her wet mouth makes Steph not care so much. Her neck is totally one of her hot spots, and when Steph slumps back against the couch cushions, Cass stays with her, their legs tangling together.
It's different, but not bad different. Steph's no slouch, but Cass is totally ripped. Even so, she still has soft places, like the push of her breasts and the curve of her tummy. She runs her hands down Cass's back while Cass mouths along her collar bone, and then she hunches down a little and licks at Steph's nipple through her bra.
Licks, sucks, bites, and Steph clutches at Cass's bathrobe and arches her back, and when she opens her eyes again, she sees that she's pulled the robe half-off one shoulder and that Cass is definitely naked under there. Her breast is heavy in Steph's hand. Cass makes an appreciative noise, and then they're kissing again. She gasps when Cass presses her palm hard against her crotch. Cass unsnaps her jeans, unzips, and pushes her hand inside, and Steph is wet, so her fingers slide right in.
"Oh, god," Steph says, grabbing at Cass's forearm and lifting her hips. "You -- god."
Cass looks like she's concentrating, a little line between her eyebrows, and Steph might be panting, because Cass is moving her fingers and her thumb now, and she hasn't forgotten about Steph's neck. It's entirely possible she's going to have a hickey, but she doesn't care. Can't care until she gets off, because she can't think about anything else until she does.
She hooks a leg around Cass's and tries to get some leverage, but Cass just narrows her eyes and slips another finger inside, and all Steph can do is drop her head against the couch cushion and moan.
Cass brushes her fingertips over Steph's belly, down her side, along the back of her arm, and she's just getting wetter, she can feel it, hear the liquid sound of Cass's fingers in her, and it's almost enough. Almost-almost-almost, she can feel her pulse pounding, and then something in the way Cass rubs her thumb in a hard circle tips her over the edge. She arches her back and feels herself flutter and clutch around Cass's fingers.
And then it's over, and her body is humming and a little tender when Cass pulls out. She's sliding back into self-consciousness land, and she hates that. Besides, Cass is, like, gorgeous and flushed and looming over her, and she wants to be doing something about that.
"Can I -- what do you like?" Steph asks.
"Show you?" Cass says.
"Yeah," Steph says, and scoots over on the couch so Cass can lie down next to her. The belt on her bathrobe is pretty much useless, and even though Cass doesn't get much sun like the rest of the Bats, her skin is still a pretty almond color. Cass opens the robe with a quick yank and slides her hand between her legs, and Steph shifts, rolls into her so she can watch. Slides her arm across Cass's stomach and her leg over her thigh, touches her as much as possible, because Cass is concentrating again, not making any noise, and watching her is hot.
Helping might be hotter. Steph moves her hand and they tangle together for a moment until Cass shows her what to do. Cass is warm and soft and slippery, and helping is totally better.
"Like this?" she asks.
"Yes," Cass says. She breathes faster, and her hair tickles Steph's cheek. Steph kisses her, because she is liking the driver's seat. She kisses her mouth, her jaw, her neck, shoulder, breast, feels her nipple against her tongue. Cass's body stiffens and she bites at the meat of Steph's shoulder as she comes.
Steph shifts a little and realizes she's kind of sitting on the remote control when the sound suddenly roars to life on the TV. The bad porn is still on, and the fake moaning and groaning is loud, like When Harry Met Sally loud.
"Oh my god," Steph says, scrambling for the remote. When she finally gets the stupid TV to turn off, she turns back to see Cass making the scrunch-face again.
"Showing is better," Cass says.