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Just A Game [Changed from 'Touch Me']	By : emania Category: DC Verse Cartoons - Teen Titans > Het- Male/Female > Raven/Robin Views: 11529 -:- 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-Touch Me
- 2-Flying High
- 1
- 2
Disclaimer: I disclaim any ownership to these characters or the world in which they roam – DC wouldn't let them have this much fun.

A/N: First of all, YES, I did change the name of this fic. It used to be “Feeling Love” but I never really liked that one.

Also, I've decided what I want this story to be about, and YES, they are going to be related directly to one another. This one relates directly to the first chapter, I'm just not doing the themes in order.

Spoiler: I'm pretty sure the next theme I'm going to tackle (however long THAT takes me) is going to be #19: The Gymnasium.

Just A Game
Chapter 2: Flying High
by Emania
Theme #27: The Mile-High Club

“Baby did a bad, bad, thing...”
- Baby Did A Bad, Bad, Thing, Chris Isaac

There was a kind of false silence in planes at a certain hour of the night, Robin thought idly. Commercial flights, private jets, even their own T-Plane. False because there was noise – the faint blip of the radar, the distant hum of the engines – and yet all these sounds were, in some way, quiet as well.

Normally, whenever they flew somewhere on the T-Plane there was a cacophony of noise: talking, fighting, even occasionally music, there was planning or teasing, conference calls and sometimes simple idle word games of the kind children play on long road trips.

Late at night, however, it was different. They weren't all needed to fly the ship when they were joined. Actually, no one was needed to fly the ship when they were joined and they were on autopilot, as was their custom whenever they were returning from a tiring mission. So, considering they had had a total of about 4 hours give or take a couple of minutes in the last 36, he had told his team to get some much needed sleep.

He didn't have to stay awake either, but autopilot didn't work well with emergencies and someone always stayed awake. He didn't mind doing it. Actually, he usually felt better being the one to do it. He trusted his team, but he trusted himself better. Plus, if someone had to stay awake and not sleep when they were all tired, he preferred for it to be himself.

He didn't mind the silence or the stillness either. He didn't feel the need to fill the silence with music or conversation. He didn't even need to read or watch television or something to keep himself awake. Most of the time, he was content to sit in silence with his own thoughts. That didn't mean he always let his thoughts float about randomly inside his head. He knew better than that. He didn't meditate the way Raven did either, but he did like to sit in silence and contemplate events: either recent events such as the fight the Titans had just engaged in with another random enemy less than 5 hours prior or not so recent events such as conversations or interactions between himself and others.

One of his favorite memories to relive, at least recently, was the movie he had taken Raven to see less than a month before. He still couldn't believe her reaction, but it had happened. Despite the fact she hadn't mentioned it or anything regarding it since she had left him in his room.

He could wait. She had promised him she'd get back at him for the movie and he was looking forward to it.

Which was why, lately, his pulse always jumped in anticipation whenever he found himself alone with Raven. It was also why when he felt the faint shift in the air of his ship cabin – the almost imperceptible change in the air that tended to raise the hairs on the back of his neck and that he had taken to recognizing preceded the use of magic in his vicinity – he felt his pulse race even before the smell of lavender and vanilla filled his senses. He was not surprised and he was not alarmed, although he was carefully expectant when he turned in his chair.

When he saw her standing a foot behind him, casually leaning against the special polymerized metal of the pod, he wondered whether or not he'd always feel as if he'd forgotten how to breathe every time he saw her.

He was glad she couldn't see his eyes. “You're supposed to be sleeping,” he said with a smile.

“Do you want me to go?” she asked.

He answered without hesitation, “No.” He wondered at the seriousness on her features. “Is something wrong?” he asked worriedly.

She didn't even try to hide the smile from him. “I was meditating,” she began, approaching him, “and a thought occurred to me, a question, really, that I couldn't answer and that wouldn't leave me be.”

“What question is that?”

She was close enough now to look over his shoulder at the console, “Why do you always stay awake even while we're on auto pilot?”

He raised a brow, “Is that the question?” he asked.

She raised a brow as if to mimic him or maybe as if to ask if he really believed that would be her question and he grinned.

“Auto pilot is no good if there's an emergency,” he answered.

“Cyborg would not like that you question the T-Ship's response capabilities.”

He chuckled, “No offense to Cyborg intended,” he allowed. She was looking around her at the pod which wasn't really much bigger than any of the others. “So, what's the question?” he prodded.

“There really isn't much room in these is there?”

“Enough.”

She looked at him over her shoulder and there was something in her eyes that had the smile sliding off his face. And even though he didn't immediately recognize it, if the spike in his pulse was any indication, his body did.

“I suppose it depends on the activity you have in mind,” she answered calmly.

“Why do I get the impression you just might have an activity in mind?”

She smiled slyly and nodded slowly, completely in control. “I just might.”

“Shouldn't you be sleeping?” he asked, in an effort to gain some semblance of control over the conversation. “It'll be daylight when we reach Jump and who knows when we'll get to sleep again.”

She closed the short distance between them and stood next to him, her attention focused intently on the control console. He turned the chair so he could see what had caught her attention.

“You're not going to sleep, are you?”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and it wasn't until then that he realized she had leaned down and her face was perfectly eye level with his, “I'm not sleepy.” She leaned back and turned her face to stare at him fully, “But if I'm keeping you up...”

He reached out and clasped her hand before she could slip it off the arm rests of his chair. “I'm not going to sleep.”

She smiled slowly at him, like the cat that ate the canary. “Good.”

His heart was beating the way it always did when he expected a good fight or when he was on the trail of a clever puzzle. He couldn't help but smile. “So what was your question?” he asked.

She turned back to the console, leaning once again on his arm rest, so close to him he could feel the heat from her skin press against him. She reached her hand out and let her fingers hover over the console, while she was apparently searching for something.

“What are you looking for?” he asked curiously.

“Ah,” she said, and he watched as her fingers nimbly flicked the switch that took them off auto pilot.

He reacted immediately grabbing the wheel and thanks to his quick thinking, the ship jerked only minimally. “Why'd you do that for?” he asked, reaching out to flip the switch back.

His fingers never reached the switch however, because suddenly her hand was on his hand, her fingers curling around his. The contact stilled him immediately and it took him a moment to realize he was still flying the ship. She pulled his hand back from the switch and their eyes met again, alarmingly close.

“Don't you want to help me answer my question, Robin?” she asked, close to a whisper since they were so close anything above a whisper would be considered shouting.

“I...” he trailed off and cleared his throat for a moment. “Am I to assume your question deals with the auto-pilot feature?” he asked.

Gently, she pulled his hand even further back out of reach of the steering gears his left hand was still holding steady. In what seemed to be one smooth movement, she had shifted herself so she was facing him. “You can,” she answered his question, holding his hand around her waist, just shy of actually touching her.

Before he could speak again, to ask her what she was doing or what the question might be once again, Raven had pushed him back just slightly from the console and stepped into the frame of his legs so that she was standing between him and the console, her left hand still holding on to his right. When his left hand started to slip away from the steering mechanism, she reached back and held it in place, tsking chidingly.

“Now, now, Robin,” she rebuked gently, “You must keep your hands on the wheel...” she trailed off to place his right hand on the other side of the 'wheel', effectively locking herself inside the cage of his arms above her waist and his legs below it. “If you remove them, well,” she let her hands trail away from his, hot wherever it touched him even through the material of his uniform. She stopped when her hands were resting on his chest and shrugged, “I'll have an answer to my question then, but we won't have much fun in the finding of it, don't you think?”

Robin swallowed, hard, his hands flexing and gripping the cold metal of the steering wheel. It occurred to Robin as he felt her hands travel down the muscles at his chest and further still to rest for a moment on his abs that Raven definitely had something in mind.

And although he might have to work just a little harder at present to focus enough to figure stuff out, he understood her meaning loud and clear. The minute he let go of that steering wheel, her little exploration stopped.

He wasn't certain he wanted it to stop.

So, he held on and he waited. But the further south those hot little hands traveled, the harder it was to keep his grip on the metal instead of reaching out for the body that was so close.

“So,” he spoke, but her nimble fingers became enthralled by the edges of the “R” patch just above his heart and he had to clear his throat to keep his voice even. Such an innocent touch and he couldn't help thinking how his heart raced as if urged into greater expediency by the presence of her fingers.

“Did you do that on purpose?” she asked, her voice hushed.

“Do what?” he questioned, his eyes focused on the sky beyond the glass shielding. 'Maybe if I don't look at her, I can keep better control?' he wondered.

“Put your crest right above your heart.”

He glanced at her, but when it almost felt as if she were caressing him rather than simply feeling the contours of the patch, he hurriedly looked back to the sky. “I didn't want to put a crest on at all,” he admitted. “But if I was to display it,” he continued, “I figured that would be the place.”

“In old times,” she began conversationally, as if every slight move, every shift to become more comfortable didn't rub her bare legs against his, didn't get her warmth closer to him. “People kept things they held dear close to their hearts,” she looked up at him, “Hence, the breast pocket in suits.”

He didn't know quite what to answer to such a thing. “It's just a letter.”

Her hand went flat against the R and her eyes closed and his own gaze was lost on her pensive expression. “I can feel it beating underneath my hand,” she whispered.

So enthralled was he by the look on her face and the feel of her palm against him right over his heart, that it took him a moment to realize that her other hand had continued to move, continued to explore, until it was at the juncture of the top and bottoms of his uniform.

He didn't remember that she knew just how to put on and remove his uniform until the clever fingers of her left hand found the flesh of his abdomen underneath the uniform top. At the sudden feel of her pressed against his bare flesh, he jumped.

Her eyes opened and what she saw there must have pleased her, for she smiled, slowly. Her right hand still over his heart, her left began to trace small circles on his flesh, as if exploring the feel of flesh for the first time. “Most people overlook the importance of touch,” she said, still in that conversational tone as if she couldn't feel the way his legs had subconsciously pressed against her outer thighs, as if afraid that if he didn't, she might disappear.

His hands convulsed around the hard, cold metal of the steering mechanism and his ab muscles reacted to her touch seemingly without conscious command from his brain. Which had all but shut down despite the fact Raven was apparently trying to have a rather deep discussion with him about the benefits of the body's five senses.

“I'm starting to see it's--” Robin's breath left him as Raven's hand dipped around from his abs to explore his side, her fingers just lightly skimming the waistband of his pants. “--benefits,” he finished on an exhale.

He felt her humor, actually felt it, like a wave crashing over him and he smiled and had to actually glance at her to make certain he wasn't just making it up. When he saw the gleam in her eye, he knew he hadn't.

Her fingers found the raised edges of a knife scar he had along his left side and the humor left her like a sigh. She grew serious and her attention zeroed in on her hand where it had disappeared under his top. She removed her right hand from over his heart and used it to raise the top to reveal where her hand had been exploring. Her eyes focused on the slightly discolored flesh and she almost pouted. Her fingers were still feeling the raised line, and her gentleness and insistence raised goosebumps. He barely repressed the need to shiver under her touch. He glanced at her and the look of empathic sympathy on her features nearly undid him.

“Before the Titans,” he answered. “I was stupid and let my guard down, the punk swiped at me first and nicked me before I could get out of the way.”

She did something so surprising then, that the T-plane swerved in response to his jerking the steering mechanism too hard: she lowered her head and pressed her lips against the scar.

“Dude! What was that?” Beast Boy's sleepy voice came over the com link. Robin froze and Raven raised her head to look at him, waiting.

“What the hell happened?” Cyborg asked as well.

“Are we under attack?” Starfire questioned.

Robin raised an eyebrow to Raven and looked meaningfully at the com switch on the console. She smirked at him and turned around, still in the circle of his arms and flicked the com line open.

“Everything's fine,” Robin answered, hoping his voice sounded as steady as he was trying to make it. “Miscalculation on my part, that's all. Go back to sleep team.”

Raven, he realized as he turned off the com link, was chuckling. “I think it's time I tell you what my question is,” she said, starting to shift and move.

For a moment, he considered making some intelligent comment about her question, but then she shifted her left leg over his right so that she was effectually straddling it. Her hands climbed higher on his chest soft and hot against his sensitized skin, pushing his uniform top further to give her better access. She stopped when one hand was right over his erratically beating heart, the other parallel and using the position to brace herself, she leaned forward, so close to his face he thought she was going to kiss him and couldn't help but look at her, eyes going wide under his mask.

She smiled at him, “Ah-ah, Boy Wonder...eyes on the road.”

His gaze went back to the view of sky before him, but flicked back at her enough to make her chuckle. She didn't kiss him, though, didn't even get close enough for him to hope to steal a kiss. Instead, she used that leverage to raise her right leg and slide it over his left. And just like that, she was leaning against his chest, with her legs on either side of his, inside the circle of his arms. And then, as if that weren't enough, she sat.

He had never really realized how very scantily clad her ass was until it was pressed against his lap.

“Raven, what-?” he gasped as she stopped his words with the press of her lips against his. Instinctively, his left hand went for the back of her head, but she pulled away before he could even begin to enjoy the moment.

“Hands on the wheel, Boy Wonder,” she reminded him, her hands still exploring the flesh of his chest and abs. “And eyes on the road or we'll have to end this little exploration.”

He kept his hand in her hair and his eyes on her, “What are you doing to me, Raven?” he whispered.

There was a moment when he almost thought he saw a smile flick across her expression, but then her head ducked and she shifted closer against him and he had to use both hands on the wheel to keep the T-Ship from going into a tailspin. Close enough now, she leaned forward until her breasts were pressed against his chest and her cheek grazed his, her lips so close to his ear. “Whatever I want to,” she whispered. She pulled back, letting her cheek rub more fully against his, “For however long you let me.”

He didn't groan, but just barely, exhaling a very controlled breath instead. He did have to blink a few times to keep his eyesight focused on the black nothingness outside. “What—” her lips found a patch of skin just where his jaw line started that seemed to fascinate her and he had to stop talking in order to swallow. Hard. He cleared his throat and attempted to continue once she moved down to his throat, “--do you have in mind?”

Hands on either side of his head, leaning heavily on the back of his chair, she shifted and suddenly, he knew there was no way she could miss exactly how happy he was to be in the current situation. She sat high on his lap, looking at the whites of his mask. “Seems you already have something in mind.”

He felt the blush crawl up the sides of his face and settle high on his cheekbones, and surprisingly, he only felt himself getting even more excited by the knowledge that there was no way he could do anything about how much of him was pressing against that scantily clad ass with her weight on him and without the use of his hands.

It took him longer than normal to think under the circumstances – after all, it wasn't every day he had Raven essentially giving him a much more intimate version of a lap dance. 'Hell,' he thought as she slid lower against his body, her mouth seeking out the skin of his neck just shy of his Adam's apple, 'forget think, it was a miracle he could remember how to breathe.'

Despite the intimacy of the moment, and the things they had already done and said, he still found himself blushing when he answered, “Let me take my hands off this wheel and I'll show you exactly what I have in mind.”

She shifted a little, almost absently rubbing against his very awake body, her hands pressing against his shoulders as she seemingly sought out her balance. “Don't you want to know what my question is, Robin?” she wondered, her voice low and intimate.

He gripped at the wheel in an effort to not reach out to hold her exactly where he wanted her as she raised the weight off his legs again and the touch of her was gone. “No,” he answered, and although his eyes remained on the sky they were navigating through, every nerve in his body was perfectly attuned to each part of her and where it was touching him or how close it might be to touching him. “I don't really care about your question right now.”

She chuckled and her hands were suddenly caressing his face, “So honest,” she said humorously. When she drew her hands away, and her weight shifted again, his eyes flicked to her, only to see her attention drawn by the flesh of his abdomen she had left uncovered from her previous explorations. The look he saw in her eyes made him smile even while the need below his waist grew ever heavier.

“I didn't think you could doubt my interest after last month's movie,” he chanced to tease.

“Ah, the movie...” she said softly, her breath ghosting across his chest, her legs lowering the rest of her body close enough so he could feel the heat and he had to resist not to strain upward and close that distance. “Which brings me back to my question.”

“I don't --” he started, but then she practically slid up his body and it stole his breath away, so that when she pressed her lips to his he inhaled hers. He put everything into that kiss as the only contact he could control. It was hard to keep his eyes open and on the window instead of surrendering completely to the kiss, and doubly hard to keep his hands on the wheel instead of digging them into her hair, making certain she couldn't pull away, but all of it was child's play compared to the strength of will it took to keep his hips from bucking upward against her instinctively as she fought him for dominance of the kiss.

When she finally tore her mouth away, he was more than a little pleased to see that she had to grip the sides of the chair on either side of his head to steady herself and that the strength of her legs pressing against either side of his thighs trembled a little as her gasps for breath paralleled his own. He was starting to get the hang of this game, he thought with a smile.

“What's your question, Raven?” he asked, still breathless, his eyes going to hers helplessly.

She let herself down back to sit, only this time, her inner thighs came down on the other side of his hips, and as her hands started to trail down from his shoulders to his chest and further down, not slow and exploring anymore, more like with a purpose, his breath caught all over again. “You made me think of it,” she said, her tone entirely conversational as her hands stopped just shy of his waist, her fingers finding the edge of the scar she asked about, trailing it almost absently. “You said you had excellent control, the night of the movie, do you remember?”

He met her eyes briefly, “I do.” Whether he was affirming his boast about his control or merely commenting on his memory, neither of them questioned.

Her hands trailed another few inches south, her body leaning forward, as if seeking a comfortable balance. “You made it seem as if something about my release broke that control,” she continued.

“I did,” he kept his answer clipped in the hopes of preventing her from figuring out how tight his throat had gone in expectation or how hard it was for him to concentrate on the conversation instead of wondering what her hands were going to do next.

But then she surprised him by shifting her seat further up his legs instead of moving her hands, so that he felt the warmth of her pressed against the almost painfully sensitive flesh of his body. She seemed to wait a moment, as if for him to appreciate the feel of her against him before leaning forward, almost as if she were reaching across his body and there was absolutely no mistake in the dampness he felt against him along with the heat and the realization that she was as excited as he was would have brought him right then and there if he hadn't already been so conscious of his control. Even so, he jerked with the contact and the T-Jet shifted a little to the right.

“I'm not releasing my power now, Dick,” she said, her breath warming the still exposed flesh of his stomach. He glanced down at her and nearly groaned at the sight of her. “How's your control holding up, now?” she asked brashly.

He smirked at her, “I think you'll have to take those clever little hands on a bit of a further exploration to find that out, Raven,” he answered, his hands gripping the wheel so hard he knew they'd ache in the morning.

“You mean like this?” she asked, her hands trailing below his waist to flit down over his hips.

“Yes,” he answered.

“And like this?” she asked, as her hands trailed back up, dipping beneath the waistband of his green pants.

“Almost,” he answered, half on a gasp, his eyes still open and facing the screen, although his sight was slightly blurred and he was fighting very hard against closing them.

She shifted her hips up and then back down, almost absently, almost as if feeling him out with her body and he couldn't bite back the groan when she did it again, coupled by the feel of her hands pushing the waistband of his pants further down his hips to reach more of him.

“Or maybe like this?” she asked, and suddenly, she stood and her hands were no longer touching him, and the incredibly enticing warmth against him was gone. He snapped to complete attention, his eyes flitting to her immediately just in time to catch her starting to shift in apparent preparation to move away from him entirely.

“Oh, no you don't,” he said suddenly, his hands coming off the wheel, flicking on the autopilot switch automatically as they went to clamp on her shoulders, bringing her back down against him, one hand raising to hold her head in place and steel her kiss. She surrendered to his demand, not fighting him for the least bit of dominance, only passively enjoying the feel of his hands gripping her against him possessively while his lips and tongue ravished her mouth. But when his hand started to move to the very part of her she had been teasing him with, she broke the kiss and with the sudden press of magic, was gone, leaving his arms bereft and his body cold.

He felt her still in the room and turned to find her standing near the door, her hair mussed, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright – as if she had some sort of fever, but there was triumph in those eyes, as well. “That's not so very much control,” she said, her voice still slightly breathless, the desire like a palpable thing between them. He started to stand and she disappeared entirely.

“I guess I have my answer now,” she said over the pod to pod communication from her own pod.

Robin opened his line and tsked, “That's cheating, Raven,” he said chidingly.

“How so?” she questioned. “I laid out the groundrules from the beginning.” He could almost see her shrug in her tone.

“Fine,” he conceded, sitting back down on the chair. “So maybe it isn't cheating,” he agreed. “But you won't be in a pod I can't get at forever, Raven,” he said, promise lacing his words.

The line was silent for a moment and then, “Is that a promise?” she asked, and although there was a hint of humor tinging her tone, it was mostly something other he was starting to recognize.

“Oh, count on it,” he answered.

In the seclusion and privacy of her own pod, Raven shivered at the determination of his tone and thought that perhaps, just perhaps, she had woken up something more than she might be ready to handle.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later, after they arrived and were unloading the T-Ship, Cyborg couldn't help but look at the wired, haggard appearance of his teammate and leader.

“Robin, man, you didn't get any sleep, did you?” Cyborg asked.

“No, couldn't,” Robin answered, glancing only in what might have been described as dangerously if anyone had caught it at Raven.

“I understand your whole issue with the auto-pilot, but dude, really...I still think you need to consider giving it a chance, you know?”

Robin exhaled as he slung his pack over his shoulder, “Yeah, I think I'm starting to see the benefits of auto-pilot, actually,” he admitted, walking away.

Cyborg was about to question his leader about the comment when a short bark of laughter from Raven's direction stopped him with it's strangeness. By the time Cyborg found her eyes, however, Raven was her normal monotonous self and didn't even appear to realize Cyborg was staring at her. “Weird...” Cyborg mumbled under his breath.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: So, what'd you guys think? Hot? Boring? What?

Playlist: Once again, song was very important in motivating this and getting me passed my standard prudishness and helping motivate me to write the more explicit, (hopefully) sexy bits of this. So, a sampling:

1. Temptation, Diana Krall
2. I Know, Fiona Apple
3. Mine, Savage Garden
4. Baby Did A Bad, Bad, Thing, Chris Isaac
5. Slippage, Goldfrapp
6. Stripped, Depeche Mode
7. Querer, Cirque du Soleil
8. Freak on a Leash, Korn
9. When Doves Cry, (remake from Baz Lehrman's Romeo & Juliet)
10. Prelude 12/21, AFI
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Just A Game [Changed from 'Touch Me']