| title: Baby, you can drive my car fandom: DC Comics characters/pairings: Dick/Garth rating: Teen warnings: lack of respect for classic cars summary: Dick, Garth, a fabulous car, and sex. notes: continuity: your choice, tho, obviously, the titans are here. probably will work best if you think of it being au. |
I love to drive.
The Batmobile is a sweet ride, and it's more tricked out than any other vehicle on the planet, but you don't really get the feel of the road with it. It's more like driving a tank than a car.
This... this is driving.
1961 Ferrari 250 GT California. Less than 100 made. Sleek, stylish, sexy, a convertible of course. This is a honey and it's got sting too. This is a car so hot even Bruce gets excited driving it. And Bruce doesn't get excited.
I can't believe he let me borrow it. I guess he was trying to tell me something, about trust, or pride, or something, frankly, after he gave me the keys I stopped paying attention.
So, I'm taking the way scenic route to New York. Titans meeting, nothing major, actually, really minor stuff, but a good chance to rev the engine and enjoy the wind and the road.
I feel... anxious, excited, something. I get this way occasionally. I'm used to action. I'm used to sizing up a situation and acting on my conclusions. When I can't get a handle on things I tend to get... antsy.
Right now I'm clutching the wheel like it's the cure to cancer and I can't quite figure out what's going on. Except I feel this is exceptionally good timing on Bruce's part, and I'm really glad I'll be seeing the Titans tonight.
No, that's not right. Not the Titans. One Titan.
Garth didn't say much the last time the Titans got together. There wasn't much time. He barely had time to tell us about his divorce. It was odd, because he was relating the events which lead to he and his wife working out a schedule for when he could see his baby, and how Arthur flipped out and told him if he left his wife he was leaving Atlantis, but his voice... he didn't sound like he had lost a home, again. He sounded like he was coming home.
I didn't have any time to talk to him that day. I think I really need to talk to him.
As soon as we got rid of the kids (I know, I know, I shouldn't think of them like that, they pull their weight, blah blah blah) and Donna had dragged Kory off to shopping or a fashion show or something boring and Wally had sped off and Roy had to go take care of Lian, I dragged Garth out to see the car. He was... less than totally impressed. But, he did agree to take a ride. So now, it's all about the open road and driving fast and being guys together.
The car makes a really satisfying thrumming noise as I push it faster and further. I shift without the slightest tremor, and let the car take the road as God intended it to. I sneak a peak at Garth. He looks... solid, carefree, content. Bored. One arm is on the door, the wind whipping up his sleeve, the other is in his lap and his hand is caressing the leather of the seat. Between his legs.
I picked a highway that was all fun curves and passes. The coast is just on the east and there are dozens of access points. It may be time to slow down the ride. So I pull over quickly and drive up the access road and on to the beach itself. Bruce would not be happy to see his beauty being driven on sand, but I know this beach, it's pretty rocky, and Bruce isn't here.
I park, and turn off the engine, and turn to Garth, who has a bizarre smile playing with his lips.
"The beach, huh? So, is this where I get off?"
Huh? Is he playing with me?
"No. I just, well, it's a beautiful night, and I figured you needed..." What am I trying to say?
"A night at the beach? A lesson on classic cars? On the nuances of driving stick?"
He's teasing me! Time to tease back. I stretch my arms out, letting the right arm brush his shoulder on its way to the back of the seat. "I thought, well, you've been through a lot lately, and well, you know, you might need some time off, with friends, ...er, friend..."
Faster than I can think, his hand moves from between his legs to between mine, and he's got a good grip on... well, me.
"You thought perhaps I needed some time getting off with you?"
"Jeez Garth!" I can't think, not with his hand there and his fingers moving like currents, so I do the only thing I can't think to do, which is open the door and jump out of the car. "I wasn't trying to...!"
He gets out of the car slowly, relaxed. "Weren't you? Did you know what you were trying to do? Because you practically threw me over you shoulder and flung me into the car." His voice is light and he's not accusing me, but he does sound like he's explaining something really simple to someone really dumb. And I'm only kinda dumb.
"I didn't want... not like, It wasn't going to be so..." We're both standing in front of the car, now, the dusk and moonlight and headlights mixing to make a strange glow. I don't know what to say to make him understand because I didn't think before acting. "I wanted it to be... nice."
"Nice? Are one-night stands supposed to be nice? I'm still not completely familiar with all the social mores of your culture."
He's still teasing me, but there's something else in his voice, his eyes... "Why are you assuming it's a one-night stand?"
"Robbie..." his voice is patient, but strained. "It's alright, you know, I'm not offended. I know... we all know... you keep yourself so tightly wound... you hold yourself responsible for so much... and more often than not, we, your friends, make your burden heavier, not lighter. Sometimes you do this... snap, almost. You have a... history. But it is fine! I have been through a lot, and I'm more than willing to lose all our strain together."
It's humiliating, and depressing, to have one of your closest friends tell you he understands your need to use him for a night to 'unwind', worse still that he is willing to share... for a night.
But then his voice shifts. "But I have been through a lot, and I'm not about to... that is... I won't..." He sighs heavily, and his eyes are the most dazzling shade of troubled purple. I want to burn away the fog that covers those eyes. "I can't enter into this under false impressions. It will be what it is and we will call it that. Honestly, no delusions or pretty euphemisms. We are too much... you are too much to me for that." His voice gets heavy and soft and his eyes morph into a regretful lilac. I caused that, my stupidity and blundering...
"Garth..." I need to collect my thoughts. What I say here is actually important. I need to find the right words. "True, sometimes it's like that, like a spring inside me that's all coiled up and then explodes... It was certainly like that with the Huntress." I try to hold in the self-recriminating laughter. "But sometimes it's the other way, too. Usually, I don't know what it is that I need until it's too late." My own voice is low, and I'm praying he can't hear or doesn't understand or know...
"Like with Barbara?" He's leaning into the car, and sounds just like the good friend I've known for years, the one who was never in the thick of things, always on the periphery, watching and eager to listen...
And I wish like hell he hadn't known what I'd meant. I sigh, and look to the ocean. "Yeah. I took her for granted for so long, and for so long I didn't see... and then, when I was finally ready and seeing... she... I guess... she couldn't, or wouldn't... I was too late." I shrug, because, what else can I do? "But that's not... I mean... I'm not here because I can't be there, I just... I actually started thinking about my life after the 2,348th rejection sunk in. And then, after you told us about the divorce... I couldn't stop thinking... well, I've been pretty dense in the past and I'm trying not to be dense anymore." I need to change the topic before something breaks inside of me from letting all this out... "You didn't really explain what happened with the divorce, you know."
He looks like he's about to object to the change in topic, like he has fifty things to say, but changes his mind and goes with it. "Dolphin and I never meant to be so much to each other. It was a game, perhaps not the most well-advised one, but... we both needed to feel desired. Then she became pregnant, and a road opened before us that seemed so obvious, so clear. Neither of us truly ever wanted to take that road though. It has taken these many months for us to come to this mutual understanding, but we have, and what's better, we've done it as friends. If only Arthur would understand..." The last he says with a bemused smile and tone, but there's no laughter in his eyes, only a lonely orchid. He has regrets...
Now what? I shift a little, suddenly aware that for ten minutes straight I haven't done anything but talk... I need to do something... someone...
"I understand you have... reservations. And I don't want to pressure... but... you said you wanted to start honestly and... honestly, I don't want a one-night stand... or a week of hot sex... I want more."
His eyes fix on me and there's a heat burning in me I can't resist. They have evolved into a suspicious amethyst. "Are you sure? Do you really know what you want? Because... because this is... I want this, Robbie, but I can't open myself to any more..."
My heart breaks into a million pieces. He doesn't trust me not to hurt him. I speak softly, truthfully. "You were the first male I fantasized about." His eyes shoot up with shocked plum. "It's true. You may have noticed my flair for the exotic..." he laughs quietly. "You fascinated me from the beginning. You were so quiet, strong, different, alien, almost. And you have beautiful hands and, uh, eyes." Now we are both embarrassed, and flushed. "I guess I was always more... reserved with my feelings around you because, well, I came to a lot of important conclusions about myself in facing my feelings and reactions to you and I guess..." I'm babbling, but not only am I saying this for the first time but I'm realizing for the first time too. Garth watches me closely, those much-fantasized-about eyes narrowed, watching me as closely as Bruce watches a criminal he's interrogating.
"So, you mean 'more' in the sense of a relationship...the real thing... something... permanent."
I sigh. I wish, oh I wish... "I can't make you promises, Garth, you know..." There are no words, or if there are, no one ever taught them to me. So, I do what I do. I lean in slowly and softly and kiss him. No 'hungry' kiss, or 'questing' kiss, a kiss, a true kiss. I pull back, suddenly scared. For a second, I can't read him at all, like I just met the man. Then his eyes open, and I see the most wonderful shade of needful purple. Oh, I like this color, I want to paint my room this color...
The next moment I'm on the hood of the car, my back against the windshield and my feet on either side of the flare in hood, with Garth on top of me, kissing and touching and pulling clothes off and I should be doing this too and his skin is so soft, strangely so, have I never felt him before because his back is...
And Oh! we're both naked and his mouth is... I'm... I'm writhing and moaning because I can't control... it's heat, and hands moving, and Garth, Garth is the ocean, made of currents and eddies...
I pull my brain inside my skull long enough to put my hands on his shoulders, and the next moment brings his mouth to mine and his tongue to mine and this... this is good...
He whispers something and it takes a while for the musical sound to be interpreted as language to my brain. He has the best smile right now, and suddenly the word makes sense. "Lube?"
Well, damn. "No, I...I didn't think..."
"You thought you'd be rejected?" with mock shock, and I'm laughing at myself now and it feels good...
Oh! Oh! but not as good as that! He's pulled the current to us, a spray covers us, and his eyes sparkle with an other-worldly glow and his hands are surrounded by this shimmer... it can't be described, not this close, and suddenly I realize what he's doing and I can't help it, I laugh out loud, throwing my head back against the car.
"Please, God, tell me Atlan didn't teach you that!!"
He's smiling and laughing and so relaxed and fucking gorgeous... "No, thank Pallais. But independent study can be a good thing..."
"Group study is better." And he shows his agreement by leaning in and kissing me within an inch of my blissful life. Meanwhile, the magic in his hands is heating and cooling the water 'til it gels, which it probably shouldn't but then that's why they call it magic...
His hand is on my... finger in me... oh God... I've been with men before but I've never been much of a bottom, don't get me wrong, I've bottomed, and enjoyed it, but for me it's always been a bit like jerking each other off, good and sometimes just what the doctor ordered, but not at the top of the list. They must have all been doing it wrong. Garth's fingers play in my body while his tongue plays in my mouth and I feel nothing but pleasure. Two fingers in me, a thumb rubbing the outside, and I'm so ready...
I make some kind of gurgling noise and he makes some musical gurgling noise, and then he's in me and oh... yeah... it's... and then... and oh!... and... and...
Time passes. I guess. The sky is painted with the pre- pre- dawn light. Garth is tucked next to me... and the car is not a comfortable place to sleep. I nudge him slightly awake. He groans, shift, rolls over into the side view mirror and wakes up.
"Are you going back to the ocean now?" Before the shock even can hit his face I start talking. "I mean! not that! It's just, do you have to go back, dehydration, or can you come back to my place, rehydrate in the shower, maybe."
A smile spreads across his beautiful face. "We reap many benefits of magic tonight. This morning..."
We kiss, and this morning looks so great. It takes a while to locate the clothes, and to gather enough pieces to not be breaking public indecency laws, and there's some kissing and touching, when I see the car.
"Oh, crap."
"What? Isn't that the right place?"
"That's the perfect place, but, look, the hood of the car is all scratched up. And the interior is all wet... actually, that was in the name of a good cause..." he chuckles, musically, of course, "but how did we scratch up the hood?"
He sighs. "You were really hard."
"Funny... Bruce is gonna kill me."
"Is this bad? You said the car was rare..."
"The car is metal and paint. I can fix it, clean it, replace the parts, replace the fucking car, what is money for? This is rare." And I frame his face with my hands and kiss him gently, lovingly.
After a moment or two of holding and such, we move to get in the car. He stops me and turns me to him, and drops me dead with his mischievous violet. "Since the car is already damaged, can I drive?"
Beep-beep, Beep-beep, Yeah!
by the by, the car was borrowed from Ferris Bueller's Day Off, cuz watching that for the 329th time was my version of classic car research
