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It all starts when he cuts his hand. It’s not a big cut, an inch long across his palm from a kitchen knife after a run in with some slippery potatoes, only just deep enough to bleed. It stings, the red curling down the lines of his hand slowly, dripping down onto his wrist before falling onto the counter, stark bright against the sterile white, but it’s hardly life threatening. Kori gasps like he’s been shot.
She was sitting up on the counter, kicking her legs idly and telling him about her photoshoot with Donna that day, talking just to talk, filling the silence with the melodic sound of her voice as he chopped potatoes for the roast he was making. Alfred’s recipe, stolen for him by Jason after some bribery the last time he’d come to visit the tower. It had been just them, at least for the moment. Her thigh had been pressed against his hip, her skin radiating heat even through the fabric of his hoodie. It was an old one, threadbare and soft, denoting him a student of Hudson university. She stole it sometimes, but not often. He was usually the one getting cold, not Kori. It still smelt like her, remnants of the perfume she’d gotten for her birthday clinging to the fabric alongside his cologne.
Kori never felt the cold the way Dick did, never felt the bite of winter that made his nose sting and cheeks pink. If anything, she was prone to overheating. Even in the dead of winter, she radiated warmth. Enough that he never needed to worry about rugging up before bed, or switching to a winter duvet. She never felt the pain of a slipped kitchen knife either, her own flesh much more durable than his.
Her hands shoots out to grasp his wrist, shock written across her face to see blood drawn over something so small “You’re hurt.”
“It’s fine,” He promises. He’s telling the truth, but she seems dubious anyway. He supposes he would be too, if he had grown up on a world where pain was never trivial, where blood spilling was an act of brutality instead of bad luck “I just need a bandage.”
“I’ll get it.” She insists, squeezing his wrist and dragging him closer, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Her hair gets in the way, brushing across his cheek and nose, it smells of sweet fruits and the kiss is tacky from the lip-gloss she’s wearing, but he doesn’t wipe it off. “Stay.”
He does, obeys like a good pet as she slides off the counter in a fluid motion, her feet never hitting the floor as she glides towards the far cabinet where the kitchens make-shift first aid kit is squirrelled away. She returns with an antiseptic wipe and a bandage, holding her hand out expectantly as she hovers in front of him, socked foot barely grazing the tiled floor. Dick wonders sometimes if she notices she does that, hovers instead of stands, floats instead of walks. He passes her his hand, laying it face up across her palm.
Her fingers curl against his skin, her nails ghosting over his pulse point tauntingly. She could break his hand if she wanted too, all she’d need to do is squeeze. She rubs her thumb over the heel of his palm instead, slow rhythmic circles as she looks at the cut, still weeping red, her brow furrowed and lips pursed as she tears open the antiseptic wipe.
“Human skin is so fragile,” She murmurs, like it’s a revelation. It might be. She presses the wipe against the edges of the cut, and Dick winces. Her hold on his wrist tightens, dizzyingly, keeping him still as she dabs at the gash with a single-minded focus. He grins at her a bit crookedly; his smile never was straight.
“Not all of us are indestructible aliens,” He replies, her eyes finally flicking up to meet his own, green on blue as she arches her brow. Her hand is warm, but her eyes are fire, warming him from the inside out. He swallows, continues weakly “I’d be unstoppable if I was immune to papercuts like you.”
“What a life to lead,” She teases, swiping at the wound as Dick hisses at the burn “where you can be felled by something as simple as paper.”
“It’s rough out here.” He agrees, as she pulls the wipe away, now pinkish from his blood. He almost misses the sting, but her hold on his wrist keeps him from chasing it. Her grip is firm, but not hard, flesh pressing into bone. Just a bit harder and it would bruise. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Kori with a bruise.
“I have to admit,” She hums, letting go of his wrist and opening the bandage slowly, peeling it from it’s paper confines. He holds his hand in place, doesn’t move it an inch from where she leaves it hanging in the air as she smooths the bandage over the surface of the cut, hiding it away behind the woven fabric, her fingers warm against his palm leaving a trail of fire in their wake “I find it fascinating.”
His throat feels rough, his arm tingling all the way up to his shoulder radiating from where she’s touching him, feather light fingers running along the edge of the bandage. “What?”
“How sensitive humans are to touch,” Her other hand disappears from view, but he feels it all the same, warm and heavy pressing at his hip, inching under his sweatshirt until her nails find purchase scraping across his abdomen before she flattens her hand across his cool skin. Dick doesn’t fight the shiver that runs up his spine, leaning into the touch as Kori crowds him against the counter, the hand on his palm moving to instead slot itself between his fingers, grasping his hand tightly as he’s forced to steady himself with it to avoid toppling over. He’s breathless, a flame dancing beneath a glass as the oxygen slowly depletes. Her lips ghost at his jaw, pressing warm, staining kisses into the juncture of his neck and his mind feels empty beyond the want for her teeth to make an appearance as he moans, tilting his neck back in an invitation that goes ignored “You feel everything so much.”
She punctuates the statement by grazing her nails over his abs, reaching downwards, only to pause above his belt, one nail scratching lightly at his naval up and down so lightly she’s barely touching him. He feels it all the same, back straight at the touch, shocked as though it was a livewire and not just flesh on flesh.
“Kori,” He gasps, and she pulls away from his neck to smile at him. Her teeth are perfect, straight and sharp. He wants them on his throat. Wants them to leave a mark.
“You’re so pretty,” She says, hand beneath his shirt moving upwards, nails scratching along the expanse of his body, hiking the fabric up as she goes exposing his skin to the cool air, goosebumps rising on his skin only to fade in the wake of her hand “the prettiest boy around.”
“Kori.” This time it comes out as a whine, flustered heat rising in his face and creeping up his neck as the hand roaming over his chest pausing at his nipple, rolling it under the pad of her thumb lightly drawing a panting moan from the back of his throat that she silences with a kiss.
Like the rest of her, her mouth is warm against his, fire licking at his tongue as he melts into it, knees buckling under him. She supports him easily. He’s seen her lift cars, he doubts he weighs anything to her as she boxes him in against the counter, the edge of it digging into his back as it arches.
“Shhh.” She whispers against his lips, hand flat against his sternum now, nails tapping at the hollow of his chest in time with his heartbeat, steady but fast beneath his ribs, rattling to get out, to be held in her hands instead of locked away in his chest. “you’re perfect. You can feel everything can’t you?”
“Yes,” He murmurs, leaning forward, chasing her mouth, desperate for the warmth. Her lips taste of gloss, sticky but sweet against his own “I can feel it.”
“Does it feel nice?” She asks, voice low and curious, raking her nails over the expanse of his body from chest to naval and back again. The moan that escapes him is guttural, and if they weren’t alone, he’d be mortified. But the tower is void of everyone but them. The whole world could be, for all he knew.
“Yes,” He pants, lips wet and parted as she pulls away, trailing back down his neck “feels good. feels so good.”
His words come out slurred, and he can feel himself drooling as she pressed kiss after kiss into his neck, soft pressure against his pulse making him dizzy. He grips her hand tighter, hopes she knows it’s a request for more. She rewards him with a bite, the scrape of teeth against skin that smarts for a moment before she soothes it with her tongue as he cries out, something in his stomach curling tightly in on itself “What about that?”
“I love you.” He replies, head thrown back as he pants, his chest rising and falling heavily with each breath barely holding himself together. She laughs, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
“I know you do.” She says, hand creeping up too his throat, her nails resting lightly the juncture between his collar bone and neck. Even without pressure, the ghostly sensation of her nails against his skin makes his stomach coil tighter, her other hand rubbing circles over his knuckles soothingly “Do you feel good baby?”
He feels great. He feels like he’s floating, pleasure running through him like an electric current everywhere she touches. He wants more, wants everything. Wants her to show him what it’s like to fly. He kisses her again, desperate and deep, uncoordinated and sloppy so it’s all tongue and teeth. She doesn’t seem to mind the fervour, teeth grazing over his lips, just shy of biting.
“I’m going to make you feel so good,” She promises “I’m going to make you feel everything.”
He hopes so, god he hopes so. He pants into her mouth, quick short breaths as he presses closer to her, as close as he can get until their chest to chest, her hand firm against his collarbone as he begs “Please.”
“Okay,” She laughs, teasing and breathless herself as her hand moves from his throat downwards, his stomach swooping in time with the motion until she’s toying with the button of his jeans, popping it free one handed. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
She teases him for a moment, drawing whines and moans from him as she runs a finger along the edge of his boxers, mouth back on his neck as he breathes heavily in her ear, rutting upwards into nothing with a pathetic little noise of desperation.
“I love you,” She whispers into his skin, lips trailing down his chest, pinkened from arousal, hand finally dipping below his belt, hands warm and firm around him. She strokes him once, light and teasing marvelling at the whimper it draws from him as her teeth catch his collarbone “I love how you respond to me.”
She strokes him again, firmer this time, with a purpose as she teases her fingers up the length of his cock at a glacial pace, taken almost sadistic pleasure in the noises he makes; throaty, needy whines as he tries to rut into her palm, only to be stopped by her hand tightening around his in warning. It’s her game their playing.
“Be patient,” She chides lightly, flexing her hand lightly and making him choke, gasping for air as the touch makes the coil in his stomach wind tighter and tighter. She grins at the nose, kissing him deeply. Her lip-gloss had smeared at the corner of her mouth, leaving a sticky, shiny sheen in its wake “so sensitive.”
“More,” He begs, dropping his head against her shoulder, her forehead resting by her collar bone, nosing at her neck and inhaling the fruity scent of her perfume. “Please Kori, I need more.”
“Asking so nicely” she praises, stroking him faster now as he keens, fighting to keep his hips still as she gives him what he needs at her own leisure. He feels like he’s in space, all alone with nothing around but her, touching him like that. “It used to scare me; how fragile you are.”
“Yeah?” He gasps, nuzzling her neck and nipping at the skin there with his own teeth. It draws a moan from her too, and he grins against her skin as he’s rewarded with her hand tightening around his cock. She lets go his hand, and if not for the fact he was being pinned to the counter by her body he’d have collapsed to the floor, moving to grip at his chest, nails digging into the skin and making him cry about.
“Yes,” she breathes, the hot air curling around the shell of his ear tantalisingly and drawing him closer to the edge “I used to think I’d break you if I played with you like this.”
“And now?” He asks, as her strokes become faster, firmer, pushing him closer and closer with each motion as his teeth graze her neck. He’ll have to return the favour when he gets the chance, he’ll have to get on his knees for her, make her cum so hard she sees stars exactly like she’s about to do for him.
“Now I know you like it.” She whispers, and her hand heats suddenly, energy pulsing under her skin as it glows faintly, the familiar golden light of fire rising around her skin like molten lava, burning his skin with a satisfying sting as he finally reaches the edge, spilling over into release with a strangled cry as she pressing her mouth to his, her lips hot with the same fire as her hand, making him dizzy with pleasure as he finishes, gasping and panting against her lips as she grins.
It takes a minute for him to come back to earth, crumpled against the counter, chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon as Kori nuzzles her face against his hair, the carnage of their activities becoming apparent all of a sudden when he notices the vegetables he’d been chopping strewn across the floor from where they’d been knocked off the counter. He frowns lightly, Kori being quick to chase it away with a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“We’ll order pizza,” She decides, intertwining their hands and slowly stepping away from him so he could stand on his own, shaky legs once more “after we shower.”
And who was Dick to deny her that? He still had a favour to repay after all.