Horns
Horns - Bryce Fox
THANK YOU SO MUCH @chromium7sky and @andthendk for your amazing art pieces (andthedk and chromium7sky) that you blessed me with a while ago. Sorry this took so long to get out! I just hope it’s okay!
(and lets be real here, there’s definitely more kicking around in my head)
- - -
Damian gritted his teeth together as he looked around the space, his lip curling up at the edges. It smelled of sweat, cheap liquor, and something sticky and sweet. God. He wasn’t sure how Raven even managed to be in here for as long as she had. After three weeks of this, he had half a mind to call her a damned saint.
With a hushed curse that slipped between clenched teeth, Damian adjusted the dark sunglasses on his face and shoved his hands in his leather jacket. He stepped deeper into the space, ignoring the dark stare from the bouncer and the bartender near the exit. It was just after 4:00 in the afternoon, and besides a few other men milling around the stage, there wasn’t anyone here. That was good. Less people could recognize him at least.
He wove between the tables and took a seat near the stage, kicking his feet out in front of him and spreading his legs wide to take up as much space as possible. The last thing he needed was to look approachable and have some dancer coming over and offering a private dance. Ugh. Damian picked up his phone and flicked through the messages, chewing on the inside of his cheek and trying to ignore the way his hair stood up on end. He felt like he was being watched, and every instinct inside him was telling him to run.
“Hey, handsome.”
Damian didn’t look up from his phone, but caught a flash of pale, exposed skin from the corner of his stare. He sneered and moved his thumb to check his emails, ignoring whoever was standing in front of him. “I’m not interested in a dance.”
“Good, because I think that would be pretty weird if you saw my breasts.”
Damian jerked and looked up into Raven’s face. She gave him a teasing smile, and he almost didn’t recognize her through the heavy makeup and extensions that curled luscious, black curls down her back. She tucked a waitress tray against her hip and her lips twitched as if she was hiding a secret about him even he didn’t know. He swallowed and swept his eyes down her body, taking in the sight of whatever she was wearing - a dark blue button down, with most of the buttons undone, tucked into a mini-skirt that barely qualified as clothing. It looked practically prim compared to what the other women were wearing, but there was something about it that set his blood boiling. He found himself thinking about ripping it off her and exposing whatever she was hiding underneath.
What was he thinking? His face burned red with embarrassment and he ran his fingers through his hair. This was his teammate and his friend. The absolutely last thing he should be thinking of, was Raven naked.
“Eyes up here, sunshine.”
Damian flushed and listed his eyes to meet her stare. His mouth tightened and he looked back into his phone, pretending not to be interested in her. “Any progress?”
“Mm.” Raven leaned over the table, pressing her hand to the dark surface. She dropped her voice low, barely audible over the heavy bass of the song playing. “You know most men usually order a few drinks and take in a show while they’re here. They typically don’t spend the whole time on their phone ignoring half-naked women traipsing around them.”
Damian picked up his head and tried not to look down her shirt, but he caught the edge of what looked like… webbing. Black, lacy webbing encasing her pale breasts. Oh, god. Now he was thinking about her breasts. He swallowed and looked back up in her eyes, grinding his teeth together to keep emotions from showing on his face.
“Fine. Then, get me a whiskey that doesn’t taste like swill and glitter, and then… do whatever you need to make it look like you’re…” He paused, biting back the taste of something heavy and needy in his mouth. “…working.”
She stood back up and shifted in her too-tall heels. Had her legs always looked a mile long? “Did you want a private dance, sir?”
His expression fell. Cheeky. He huffed in annoyance and glanced back up at her. “What does that entail?”
“Bottle service and five hundred dollars.” She gave him a coy grin. “But it’s very private. So… you’re free to do… whatever you want. You can even touch me if you want to.”
Raven leaned over in a move that was obviously practiced, and Damian wondered how many men she had tried it on before. How many private dances had she given? How many men had touched her? Ran their fingers over every inch of her body? Jealousy clawed at him, and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She was undercover and this was her job, he needed to remember that.
Without waiting for an answer, Raven held out her hand, palm up. “Will that be cash or credit?”
His stare was flat and he handed her his credit card. “I’ll expense it later.”
“I’m sure Star will love that.” Raven snorted and took the card from him, disappearing to the bar for a few minutes before returning with a bottle of some subpar whiskey, two glasses, and a key on a ridiculous and flashy keychain. She fluttered her eyelashes and motioned for him to follow her into the back, and Damian trailed after her, trying not to look at the way her plump ass peeked out from the hem of her not-quite-a-skirt. Tried not to look… and failed. His tongue slid along his lower lip and he wondered what it would be like to grab-
No. No. This was his teammate. He needed to remember that. Raven wasn’t just some girl, she was his friend and the one person he trusted more than anyone else. In fact, he trusted her more than he trusted his own family. Raven had earned his respect a hundred times over, and he shouldn’t be ogling her like that.
Damian straightened his jacket and followed her through into a small, dark room in the back. Music poured in from overhead speakers, and the lights were low enough to cast secretive shadows over her body, but bright enough to let him see every part of her. The smell of salt and sweat and booze filled his nose again, but he choked down his response and sat down on the sofa against the far wall. Crossing his arms over his chest, Damian tried not to think about what likely happened on the black leather. Ew. Gross.
Raven poured him a drink with that sickly-sweet smile again, her eyes fluttering. When she stood back up, she let her hips move slowly, as if dancing to the music. Damian felt his heart pick up speed, slamming wildly against his ribs as he watched Raven’s fingers glide along the buttons of her dark blue shirt. She pulled the tails out of the waistband of her skirt, and unbuttoned the last few buttons.
Damian groaned at the sight of her dressed in black lace made to look like spiderwebs. It was dark and dangerous, and it reminded him so much of her. He bit the inside of his cheek and let his eyes wander down her body, hoping she didn’t notice how much he… he liked it. Her breasts were pushed high, gently bouncing with each movement she made, and- he shouldn’t notice things like that. Shame colored his cheeks and he looked away, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. His friend and his teammate. His friend and his teammate. His friend and his teammate. If he kept repeating that mantra long enough, maybe he’d actually remember it.
Raven allowed her shirt to slip down her arms, gathering at her wrists before pulling it off her, and then tossing it carelessly behind her. Damian suspected she used her powers because it landed perfectly against the frame of a mirror across from him, covering the glass.
“Whew.” Raven’s hips stopped moving, and she kicked off her shoes with a curse. She bent down and rubbed her foot for a moment before limping over to the sofa, falling down next to him. “Thank god that’s over and you can stop pretending to watch me dance.”
Right. Pretending.
“Sorry, I had to put on a show. The mirror is a two-way mirror, and sometimes the sleazebag owner lets people sit and watch what happens in here - sometimes for extra money, sometimes for blackmail.” She gave him a sympathetic smile, kicking her feet up on the table in front of her. “And seeing a Wayne in here would definitely give him a reason to spy.”
“Oh.” He watched as she flicked a lock of hair out of her face, letting silence settle over both of them. Finally, he turned and stared ahead, careful not to look too long at any part of her. “So… how are you doing?”
“Hard to say. The emotions here overwhelm me, the owner is - as I said before - a complete and utter sleazebag, and… I would give anything to take these stupid extensions out.” She tugged at her hair and groaned, her head falling back on her neck as she stared at the ceiling. A long sigh escaped and she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “I know that what we’re doing here is important, but I cannot wait until I get to go home. I miss my friends and teammates.” Pause. “I miss you.”
That made him look up. His heart turned over and he didn’t want to think about how he missed her too. How the noise of the tower was even more grating than usual, how he got up early and felt his heart sink when he remembered that she wasn’t there. Damian glanced over at her and remembered how he had made her a cup of tea this morning, out of habit, and when she didn’t sit with him at breakfast he felt his whole body sink with disappointment. He missed their late night conversations and quiet moments together - he missed her. Every part of her.
He chewed on his lip and looked away again, taking a calm, steadying breath. That was a bag of emotions he didn’t want to think about just yet. Right now, it was better to focus on her mission. “Did you find anything out?”
“Mm.” Raven nodded and picked at her nails, thinking. “We were right with our initial intel. He is trafficking women - Metas specifically. Most of the woman have low-level powers, but they’re still Metas. One woman has gone missing since I’ve been here, and another woman was taken about eight months ago. Long enough that it’s not raising suspicion with the police. Star and Cy are talking about how we need to do to get the owner to notice me. If he figures out that I’m a Meta, he’ll definitely cart my ass off to where he sent two other dancers.”
The thought of Raven purposefully putting herself in danger made him feel anxious and uncomfortable. He reached forward and took a drink of the disgusting whiskey before setting it back on the table. “And you… want that?”
“Not really.” Raven rubbed at her jaw, looking away. “But if there’s anyone strong enough to go up against whatever he has his fingers in, it’s me and Cy and Star.” She smirked and glanced back at him. “Unless Robin wants to join in?”
“You know I’m watching over you. But, I have to be careful with… this.” He waved his hand over his face. “If I bring too much media attention to this gross strip club, it can blow the whole mission. The last thing we need is for a paparazzi to catch me here. It would blow everything.”
Her expression softened and she leaned close to him, a small smile pulling at her lips. “I know.” She leaned closer to him, her hand resting on his thigh. “But I seem to remember a certain masked man hovering on the roof two nights ago while I was here.”
Damnit. He had hoped she hadn’t seen him. Damian flushed and shrugged, glancing away as he scratched at his neck. “I want you to know that you’re safe. You can’t blame me for worrying about you.”
“No, I guess not.” She pulled away, her hand falling back to her own side. “But, I’m the daughter of a demon and you think I can’t take care of myself?”
He looked back at her, frowning. “You know that’s not-”
“Shit.” Raven grabbed the sunglasses from the table in front of them and shoved them back on his face. Before Damian could question exactly what she was doing, he felt her swing her leg over his lap, and she settled onto the tops of his thighs.
No. Oh, gods. No. He opened his mouth to tell her to get the hell off of him, but before he could utter a word, she pressed her lips to his own. Oh no. Damian’s eyes widened as his heart picked up speed again in his chest, and he felt her hand slide up the side of his cheek while her other hand guided his fingers under her skirt. He could feel the roundness of her ass flex under his touch, and that was… not helping. That was not helping at all.
Damian ground his teeth together and tried not to kiss her back, or think about how soft she felt, or how lithe she seemed… but it was too late. Everything was too late. He could feel his whole body start to react to her, like she was his favorite meal and he was starved for her. He needed her. Wanted her. Beyond anything he had ever experienced before. Blood surged through his veins, hot and molten, and Damian’s fingers grabbed a handful of her ass, squeezing as his mouth matched hers in intensity. He needed this like he needed air. He would just have to find an apology later.
The door clicked open and Raven broke the kiss, pulling Damian’s face into her neck. Someone was watching them, and he had a good feeling it was the sleazebag owner Raven had been talking about before. He heard her whisper a spell, but kept his face hidden by her neck just in case. God. How did she smell so damn good?
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
It was the owner. That explained it. He was probably confused by the fact that the two way mirror was covered. Damian’s fingers stilled against Raven’s ass, but she pulled him tighter against her soft curves, and he realized that she was trying to hide his face from the owner. Smart. Of course, it was Raven, she had probably thought about this before.
“Oh. I’m sorry for interrupting.” He didn’t sound sorry. He sounded like a wheezing bag of misplaced lust. Tch. Like Raven would ever have any kind of emotion for him. “I trust you’re taking care of our guest, Rachel?”
Raven picked up her head, her fingers tangling in his hair. “Of course, sir.”
The owner gave a thick, fake laugh, obviously enjoying the fact that Raven called him sir. Damian didn’t dare show his face, but he could feel the leer that Raven was subject to, and he felt something possessive and angry rise up in him. Raven was-
Was what? His? Damian nearly snorted. He wasn’t even sure what Raven was to him. A teammate? Yes. A friend? Yes. But… what kind of friend admired her breasts encased in black webbing? Ugh. He kissed along her neck, his other hand sliding along her waist and pulling her tight against his chest. It was only to keep up appearances, obviously. It wasn’t as if he had… feelings for her…
…right?
“Good. Good…” He continued to leer at her and Damian finally growled, the sound muffled by Raven’s neck. The owner hummed, as if put out by not being allowed to join in with them. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you need any service at all.”
Raven nodded, and Damian waited until the owner left before he stopped kissing her neck. He wanted to let his hands and mouth wander, but he knew better. Damian looked up at her, his eyes searching her face. She looked exhausted, frustrated by the situation and uncertain about what their next step should be. The tension between them was thick, and he was almost certain that she could feel the press of his erection against her thigh. That was embarrassing. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and Damian watched her lift her hand to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes, fingers trailing along the side of his face. It was surprisingly tender, and it made his heart turn over in his chest.
“You should go.”
“Yeah…” His fingers trailed down the backs of her thighs, feeling the soft nylon of her stockings under his touch, and he licked his lips. “I should go.”
But, he didn’t move, and neither did Raven.
Finally, as though he had lost all common sense, Damian leaned up to press a slow, gentle kiss to her lower lip. Raven groaned and she shivered, leaning into him. Her mouth felt… hungry. Desperate. His hand disappeared under her skirt again, and he grabbed a handful of her bare ass, pulling her tight against him. Raven moaned into his mouth, and her fingers buried into his hair, taking every kiss he offered as though she were a parched woman and he was a drink of water. She tasted of curses and mint chapstick, and Damian knew he would never taste anything better in his life.
Raven pulled away, gasping. Damian watched as her soft breasts tightened against the cups of her bustier, the black webbing straining with every breath. Finally he closed his eyes and let his hands fall to his sides. If he kept touching her, he was going to make terrible decisions. “I… shouldn’t have gotten carried away. Sorry.” He didn’t feel all that apologetic, but that sounded like something he should say.
“O-oh.” Raven crawled off his lap and adjusted the few scraps of clothing she was wearing, as if she needed something . “I’m… sorry too. I shouldn’t have… you know. Surprised you.”
“Mm.” Damian watched as she went to her shirt still hanging from the mirror frame, pulling it on and tucking it back into her skirt. It was like she was erasing every part of their exchange, and he… he didn’t want that to happen. He wanted to feel her bare skin against his fingers, and feel every part of her tremble and shake.
But…
He didn’t know what they were before.
And…
Raven gave him a soft, almost shy smile and turned away as she finished redressing herself.
…he definitely didn’t know what they were now.
