damirae week 2022
day 2 college/ high school / jealousy
title: hit the showers
summary: college AU - Raven and Damian are partners for a literature project. When he keeps her waiting for almost an hour after football practice, nothing will stop her from going after him. Not even the male sign on the door.
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It’s hard for her to put into words how she’s feeling right now. Even with the vast range of words in her head, Raven just can’t find a pretty way to define how fucking pissed she is.
For the past 40 minutes, she’s been sitting on the same spot at the bleachers. The football players have long retreated to the showers, leaving the stage to Gotham University’s beloved cheerleading squad and their repetitive choreography. And for someone with barely any school-spirit in her bones, Raven almost wishes for one of them to fall.
Almost.
An annoyed sigh escapes her lips as she checks her phone again: still no answer. How hard can it be for him to come out and give her that stupid pen-drive!? She bites her lower lip and mentally curses her literature professor for ruining her life. Of all the people—all the sixty-three students enrolled on that subject for the semester—her name was matched to his for the final project. Sure, both she and Damian Wayne are the smartest people in class, and their project won't receive anything lower than an A+, but damn, what an egocentric bastard.
She felt like crying a river at the idea of pairing up with the person she detests the most on all campus, but now, Raven knows better that wasting precious tears won’t solve her problem. Murder, though…
Her eyes catch the sign of a bunch of jocks leaving the locker room, but to her luck, Damian isn’t among them. Like a trained herd, they keep following each other, but her partner just refuses to show up. She’s tapping her foot against the metal structure, a glimpse of hope stubbornly lighting up her eyes.
Any minute now, she thinks. But then, 15 minutes go by, and all hope turns into rage.
Raven shakes her head, a new decision igniting her soul. “Fuck this.” She stands up, glaring at the universe and stomping her way across the tracking field and towards the lockers. Her hands are balled into fists, and she sees the way people’s expressions change when they look at her. She barges into the locker-room, not caring that this is the male one.
Once inside, Raven’s eyes search for him, like a lioness hunting her prey. Most of the players are long gone, but the few left grow confused at the sight of a girl invading the men’s locker-room when they’re still half-naked. Some start covering themselves in shame, while others even try to impress her by flexing their muscles. On normal days, Raven wouldn’t spare them a fraction of her precious time, and now things are no different. She couldn’t care less about all of those exposed abs. Not when her mind is set on finding the Wayne.
“You.” She points at a random guy, and he shivers under her condemning gaze. “Where’s Damian?”
“Damian? Y-You mean Wayne?”
“Of course I mean Wayne!” She fumes. “Is there any other arrogant brat named Damian on this stupid team?!”
“N-No…” He answers, and oddly, it feels like a question.
“Where the hell is he!?”
“In the showers! He’s in the showers!” He covers himself, pointing towards the back of the room. “Please, don’t hurt me!”
“Tch, out of my way.” Raven grits her teeth, pushing past the player. She walks towards the showers, a curtain of steam clouding the air. She’s about to rip the curtain open, when firm hands hold her in place, preventing her advance. This interruption makes her mad, and once she realizes that the one who interrupted her is Damian, the girl grows even more irritated.
“Wow, slow down, Roth. Ask me to dinner first, will you?” He smirks, and her glare intensifies.
“Fuck you, Damian!” She slaps his hands from her shoulders, and he crosses his arms across his naked chest. He only has a towel wrapped around his waist, and some drops of water are still running down his olive skin.
“Aren’t you a polite lady?” That cocky arrogance remains plastered on his face, and she holds back the urge to rip it off with a slap. “Apart from peeking at me, what on earth are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet outside.”
“We were, Damian. One-freaking-hour ago!”
“What?” His eyes widen, real shock spread on his face as he looks at the clock on the wall. “Oh shit, is it that late already?! I must have lost track of time, my bad.”
“My bad!?” she repeats, her voice growing even angrier. “Can’t you even apologize like a human-being, you little piece of sh— “
“Wow, language! You’re worse than a sailor, geez.”
Her heart is racing inside her ribcage and it takes every ounce of self-control in her body not to strangle him. His personality is Damian’s worst quality. It’s like a younger version of his older brother, but he lacks the womanizer part—that’s as far as she knows, of course. The whole family seems to have this serious conduct disorder, but she won’t let him get the best of her.
All the money she's spent on meditation classes will prove itself useful.
She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath and repeating her mantra inside her head. Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos. Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos. Azarath, Metrion, Zint—
“Look, just give me the pen-drive and I’ll be out.” She reasons, her tone calmer. “Let’s not waste more of my precious time, okay?”
Damian stares at her for a second too long, his hand massaging his chin. He nods, and Raven feels a certain relief to know this will be over soon. “Fine. Front pocket of my bag. It’s the yellow and green one with the W.”
“Finally.” She throws her hands in the air, and she's quick to spot the bag on the bench near the lockers. Raven leans down, her hands reaching for the zipper of the front pocket, and once the pen-drive is in her hands, her body relaxes. No tricks, no silly games or arrogant comments, just the way it should be.
But of course he had to be staring at her ass…
From the corner of her eyes, she sees Damian standing behind her, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His emerald eyes are on her, and once she turns to him, he doesn’t bother looking away. She swallows a few ugly words that are about to escape her throat and decides that instead of giving in to her emotions, she will teach him a lesson he won't forget.
Two can play this game, she thinks. It’s time for her revenge.
She gets back on her feet, mimicking his pose; her carefree eyes roaming his body. Even with a rotten personality, Damian is a sight for sore eyes. She acknowledges that he’s a very charming man, with that dark hair and those pretty, forest eyes; but that’s as far as she’ll go. His ego is already too high and she can’t risk inflating it anymore.
“Like what you see, Damian?” She asks, her eyes on his.
“I could ask you the same, Roth.”
“Well…” Her tongue traces her bottom lip, and after placing the pen-drive in her purse, she lets it slide down her shoulder and to the floor. She walks closer to him, the steam from the showers brushing her cheeks. “I can’t say I’m not.”
“Oh, boy.” He leans closer, their eyes never breaking contact. “Nice twist for someone who was about to murder me just now.”
“Call it a twist or just a girl trying to find compensation after waiting under the burning sun.” Their faces are inches apart, and she slides her hands across his chest. She feels his muscles twitching under her palm, and she can’t help but smirk at that.
Men, she muses.
“It sure is getting hot in here, habibti.” He whispers, eyelids lowered, and she can feel his heart beating faster under her touch.
“In that case, maybe you should take another shower, Dami.”
“What?”
His lips part in awe, but before Damian has any chance to process her words, her tiny hands are already pushing him backwards. In a blink of an eye, he finds himself under the shower, cold water now pouring over him.
How deliciously satisfying, she thinks, standing her ground. Triumph decorates her face, and she’s delighted to see the expression he’s making while his body tries to adjust to the lower temperature. His damp, dark hair is sticking to his face and his emerald eyes are glaring at her with enough intensity to tear a hole in her skin.
“Goddamnit, Roth!”
She chuckles, hands resting on her waist. “That’s what you get for making me wait, Damian!”
“Tt how very mature of you.”
“Never said I was.” Raven chuckles, still not ready to let her revenge wear off. “Sorry to throw cold water on your plans.”
“Ha Ha. Hilarious.” He scorns, running his hand through his damp hair. “I guess I deserved this.”
“You can bet your pretty ass you did.”
“Yeah… whatever. You can stop now.”
“Stop? Why should I?” she teases, victory clouding her better judgment. “Tell me, Dami, how does it feel to be a soaked loser?”
He stares at her for a little too long; the wheels spinning in his head. “I don’t know, Roth. You tell me.”
Her eyes widen when his arms wrap around her waist, and it doesn’t take much to understand what he’s doing. Although she tries to fight back, in a swift move, Damian pulls her close, and soon, she’s also soaked from head to toe. The cold water strikes her skin, damp clothes sticking to her curves, and shivers run down her spine.
Of course, the universe wouldn’t let her have her moment, right?
“So, Roth, how does it feel?” Damian asks, arrogance dripping from his lips.
“You’re such a child, Damian!” She fumes, hands balled into fists, ready to punch him.
“Me!? You started this!” He bites back, turning off the cold water.
“It was payback. It’s not my fault if you’re a shitty loser!”
“I’m not a shitty loser. You’re just an annoying winner.”
“I must have learned from you.”
They glare at each other for a few moments, sparks igniting between them. A real fight is about to start, when something inside her snaps.
What the hell am I doing?
A defeated sigh escapes her lungs, all the anger fading from her heart. She runs her fingers through her wet hair to take it out of her face, closing her eyes for an instance. Raven’s tired of all this childish bickering, and even if she hates to admit it, the cold water did help her calm down a bit. She’s never been the girl who loses her mind over stupid things, and perhaps that’s what she hates the most about Damian.
He makes her lose control. He sets her emotions ablaze, and before she knows it, they’re at each other’s throats, fighting over something stupid. It’s annoying—inconvenient, even. Theoretically, they should be able to maintain a decent conversation, but apparently, they can’t help but behave like children.
God, what is it about him?
Raven doesn't know. And maybe now isn't the best time to figure it out.
“I’m going home.” She states.
“Are you planning on leaving like this?”
“It’s not like I have another option, genius.”
“Tt. At least let me…” Before he can finish the sentence, she feels his thumb caressing her cheeks. It’s an innocent move, filled with some sort of concern and care. His hand cups her face, and she can’t help but notice how smooth it is. He’s looking at her with such a gentle expression, and once their eyes meet, an embarrassed blush creeps to his face. “I-I… I was just… your mascara was running down.”
Although she’s trying to find the right words, nothing comes to mind. Damian Wayne was nice to her. This is not part of his modus operandi, and she doesn’t know how to respond. Her cheeks feel warm and her lips part. Their faces are extremely close, and if she didn’t know any better, she could bet he wants to ki—
His lips are on hers before she can conclude her thoughts. They’re smooth and delicate, and at first, he doesn’t move, giving her enough time to memorize their shape. Unlike Damian himself, his kiss is calm and soothing—insecure, even. It’s makes the turbulence in her heart disappear, and even if she knows Damian Wayne is the one kissing her, Raven can’t find it in herself to push him away. Quite the opposite, actually.
Her arms wrap around his neck and she kisses him back; her fingers getting lost in his dark locks. Their lips move in sync, and slowly, he presses her back against the white tiles. His hands sneak under her shirt, moving to her waist so he holds her in place. A raw groan dies in her throat when his fingers dig down her skin. A foreign warmth wraps around her guts when he nibbles her lower lip, a clear sign that he’s asking for entrance.
Soon, she tastes his sweetness in what’s probably the best kiss of her life. It’s addictive—eliciting so—and it’s only after he pulls away that she realizes what she’s been deprived of for such a long time.
Her senses slowly return, and she pulls her arms back from his neck. Amethysts widen, and once she sees that stupid smirk on his face, Raven realizes what she’s done—with whom she’s done it with. Her entire body is on fire and it’s like her heart is about to explode if he does so much as touch her skin. She can’t look him in the eye and her instincts are begging her to run away.
She’s a fool. A fool for not pushing him away, and mostly, a fool for wanting another kiss.
“Oh my, for a moment, I thought you weren’t going to kiss me back.”
“I-I wasn’t. I didn’t—.”
“But you did.” He smiles excitedly, biting his lower lip. “And what an amazing kiss, for sure.”
“We shouldn’t have done it.”
“Don’t even try running away from this, Roth.”
“Oh my god, what have I done?” She panics, covering her mouth with her hands. “I’m soaking wet in the masculine locker-room with you. What if someone saw us kissing? What if people think something is happening here?”
“Would it be that bad? Us, together, I mean.” His voice is an octave lower and her face grows warmer. Her heart skips a beat and she can tell she’s swayed by Mr. Honey-Lips. “Would it, Raven?”
Of all the people she could’ve kissed, why did it have to be Damian Wayne?
“God, I hate you, Damian.”
“Do you?” He leans closer, mockery enveloping his words. “I don’t think you mean that based on how your nails pulled my scalp.”
“Can you just stop describing that!?” Raven states, her voice shaky in pure embarrassment. “I-I have to leave, can you let me go?"
“But I’m not holding you at all, habibti.” He shows her his hands, proving to her she is, indeed, free. She bites the insides of her cheeks, and with a newfound strength, Raven pushes past him and walks away. Her clothes are still soaked and her boots are filled with water, making an annoying sound whenever she takes a step towards the exit.
She reaches for her purse, and when she turns around, he's s still smirking—still looking at her. Her heartbeat increases and images of his half-naked body pressed hard against hers cloud her thoughts. His lips against hers, his hands on her lower back, his tongue—
Focus, she tells herself.
“So, should I meet you at your room at 8pm?”
“W-What?!” Raven almost jumps back, horrified he would even suggest such a thing after their first kiss.
“Relax, Raven. It’s for the project. Unless you want to resume our activities.” He winks.
Her heart sinks, and she prays for the floor to swallow her whole. Raven’s growing more embarrassed with every second and she doesn’t think she can take it anymore. She turns from him, fast-pacing towards the door and almost tripping. Her ears ignore whatever words come out of his mouth, and she doesn’t dare look back to see if he’s following her.
She needs to get home. She needs to get away from him before something else happens. Perhaps another cold shower will come in handy—and this time, preferably, she will one without Damian Wayne.
fin.
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a/n: okay, first of all, I’m so sorry for being so late. This week was just so busy and I didn’t have time to do everything I wanted. I’m late for the week, but I still have a few stories I want to share with you! About this one, you guys chose this theme and all I could think of was “let's make the silliest cliché ever”. Well, here it is lol hope you’ve enjoyed it!