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Strangers	By : aranel Category: DC Verse Comics > Teen Titans Views: 3021 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Strangers
- 1
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I pretend to own any recognizable characters within this work of fiction. They are the sole property of DC and I am just borrowing them for a bit of fun.

I can’t tell you how it began, or exactly when. It could have been there all along. It could be recent. I honestly have no idea. They’re not obvious about it, and I don’t think it’s meant to be shared. Still, it’s hard not to notice, even with how fast Bart moves.

Cassie’s my girlfriend. I’m her boyfriend. Everyone knows that.

But Tim’s not like us. And neither is Bart. They’re both private people. For different reasons, but private all the same. Maybe it’s what attracted them to one another in the first place. I couldn’t say. I hadn’t known.

It’s not easy. To watch them be themselves in front of everyone. And to see everyone play blissfully along. They’re good, but they can’t be that good. Someone besides me has to have noticed. Gar’s senses, Raven’s creepy feeling detector thing. Hell, I bet Vic has the whole place bugged. And still I only just noticed.

It was an accident.

I’m used to just barging in on people.

It’s a bad habit.

Bart was gone, with hardly a breeze, and Tim stared coolly back at me. But the damage had been done. I’d already seen them. One perfect moment of abandonment. I’ve never seen my best friend so open in all the time I’ve known him. The look’s so startling, I’m left breathless.

I know I know. They know I know. They know I know they know I know.

So why’s it so hard?

It’s not that I’m uncomfortable with guys with guys. It happens. I understand that. Clark might not, but I do. They can’t be wondering if I am, could they? Tim should know it doesn’t bother me. Still, Bart avoids my eyes. Tim stares back, back straight, head high, as if I’m about to point them out at any moment. I can’t believe they’d think I’d do that to them.

I don’t.

I don’t mention it at all.

We move on.

I learn to knock.

I don’t tell them I listen. That I spend all night, ears tuned to the almost imperceptible sounds they make. Tim sighs. He sighs a lot. Bart talks. Always whispering something. Poetry, haikus, song lyrics. I guess it helps him keep still, keep moving in one place rather then being everywhere at once.

Most of the time, it’s soft and long. The sheets dragging as springs creak in a fairly melodic rhythm. I can picture them together, Tim caressing in a secretive lover way, Bart bowing into him. I imagine it so much, staring hard at my wall every time, it takes three whole weekends for me to realize I’ve developed X-ray vision.

When I do realize, I only feel slightly guilty. I never pictured the exactness of it. I suppose I never fully understood. Everything was always imagined navel up. So much I’d been staring at just that. So, I look down.

It takes me two weeks to come to terms with the image. Not that it disturbed me, not at all. It’s just, I never figured that was how it actually worked. And I never would have pegged Robin for a bottom. Not that it’s always the case, but he seems to favor seducing Bart. It’s strange, watching him reach up to caress, looking into Bart’s eyes all the time. The same eyes that never waver, apparently hold on just as strongly when he’s letting go.

Like I said, most of the time, it’s slow, gentle really. But, after missions, and when things really go down, they’re hard and fast, and Tim cries out into a gag, while Bart just disappears behind him. Moving so fast it has to hurt and feel so good. Tim tears, and shoves back, and lots of times his hands are bound, or else they’re scrabbling at something. Anything.

They do other stuff too, and it just astounds me how flexible they both are. I look at myself, and wonder if I could be that way. But where they’re lithe and graceful, I’m more of the upper body kind of rough and cut. Nothing like them.

We still shower together after training or hang out after missions. We talk and joke, and act like nothings any different. But when night rolls in – when Tim’s most alive – is when we all lead yet another life. They together, me alone. Watching, listening, slowly understanding what it is they’ve been building.

They’re not stupid. Bart’s read every book known to man by now I’m sure. And Tim’s just…Tim’s just a genius. So they both know what happens when I go to bed before they do. Sometimes, they’ll play along. Bart will glance at the wall, and move against Tim in a challenge. Tim will stare at it while he falls over.

I’m starting to feel conflicted.

I don’t know when it started. I can’t remember. But, somewhere I joined them. On the other side of the wall, myself in hand, and them everywhere else. My senses drowning in them.

The first time I hear my name, I come so hard, I almost black out. Tim says it, a lusty whisper, and roll of his head. I can’t believe what’s happened, and so I avoid them as much as possible the rest of the weekend.

They go back to routine, but some time later; perhaps a month, maybe more – I don’t see them as often as I’d like – they do it again. This time Bart is teasing Tim, and before I can finish blinking, he’s dressed like me. Tim plays along, and they switch roles somewhere in the middle. I don’t last long that night either. All four times.

It’s getting harder to pretend.

They’ve started talking dirty, playing with one another. They use me as subject matter.

I don’t know if it’s supposed to turn me on or off. But it only makes it harder and harder to not react. It gets so hard that I start to loose it in front of teammates. In front of Cassie.

On a mission is when I’m asked to join. So casually, so covertly, if I didn’t have my hearing I wouldn’t have noticed at all. And still I doubt what I’d heard. They just keep on fighting, like nothing was said.

I go to the roof to think that night. And out of the shadows, and from the wind they appear.
For a while we just stare at one another.

Then Tim closes the distance. I look down at him, and he looks up. I smile because I’m nervous – among other things – but never get the chance to shift uneasily.

I’ve kissed before. Lots of times. I have a girlfriend, after all. But, I’ve never been kissed like this. Tim molds to me so perfectly, that I can’t help but moan and open my mouth. It’s all the acquiescence Bart needs. We’re in his room before the moment’s matured.

He wastes no time in shedding clothes, and while I feel his hands against me, everything else is too fast to keep track of. Especially when Tim’s tongue is doing that. Bart’s mouth latches on somewhere about my shoulder and I’m bombarded. I’ve seen him do this to Tim hundreds of times, but feeling it…God…it’s amazing.

Tim’s in control. I hadn’t noticed, in all the hours I’ve spent watching. Every move, every action is guided by his hand. We’re hovering, and I’ve done it, but I don’t remember doing it. We’re against the ceiling, and I haven’t a clue how we’ve gotten here.

Against the bed, across the bay. They’ve never traveled before. Not since I began paying attention.

The night stretches on into hours. But our bodies are young, and we exercise. I’m far more flexible in the air I learn, then anywhere else. Bart can actually run and fuck. Tim’s more pliant than putty, and twice as good at locking his limbs. And three people can stretch an hour into days.

Days of pleasure, of bliss and glory. Days that can feel like a week, and a week like a month, and on and on, until I wake up in my own bed, wondering whether or not I’ve dreamt it all.

Wally’s downstairs, talking to Vic. Dick’s come for Tim.

I can’t help the thought. It just pops right into my head. Far sooner than the brush of their hips, as Flash breezes to a stop by Nightwing. Or the familiar smiles they flash at one another.

This must be a Legacy.

Robin pads down the stairs, and Kid Flash makes three laps about the room, before coming to a halt beside Flash. Neither of them look particularly different. They greet their families and make jokes. Smile and laugh, and I think I’ve dreamt it all for sure.

It’s not until they’re leaving; when Dick’s started the jet, and Wally’s flicking one of Bart’s earpieces back that Tim pats my shoulder. It’s a friendly gesture; he’s always done it. But there’s something different about it now. A tiny squeeze in different places, and I realize, it’s possessive.

I’m far too happy about that.

I say my good byes, and Bart winks almost too quickly, before he and Flash are gone. Robin and Nightwing are quick to follow. I’m left alone on the lawn.

Cassie comes up and hugs me ‘round the waist, mentions making out in my ear. A good idea, given we’re being picked up later. I agree, and we go off. But even as we’re kissing, and groping in the dark, I know. What I’ve been inducted into is far greater than me and Cassie. It’s more powerful. Meaningful. Not that Cassie’s not important.

When Clark comes to pick me up, he can see the change. There’s no longer just me. There’s me, Super me, and Bart, Tim and me.
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Strangers