
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/154194.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      DCU_-_Comicverse
  Relationship:
      Stephanie_Brown/Cassandra_Cain
  Character:
      Stephanie_Brown, Cassandra_Cain
  Additional Tags:
      Cliche, First_Time
  Stats:
      Published: 2004-11-28 Words: 2035
****** Show and Tell ******
by shrift
Summary
     Showing is better.
Notes
     For Te, because when I chat with her, cliché porn happens. It's like
     magic.
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.
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