DC Ficpost: Bats and Birds and Mirrors, PG13, Cass/Steph
Title: Bats and Birds and Mirrors
Summary: Things happening in caves, between girls, and things Bruce refuses to understand.
Rating: PG13, Cass/Steph
Something about bats and birds in his mind, as they press together, these two girls. Something wrong about the sharpness of their curves, about the places where they soften.
Through this perfectly angled mirror he can see the intimate press of costumes, Cassandra subsumed by the black bat and Stephanie shocking in red, sweat and blood from a mission he knows nothing about. It would almost seem innocent but for the way they look at each other, the intent in their eyes.
And then they are speaking without words, communicating with tongues. There is a strangely gentle look to the caress of gloves against skin and something horribly right about the brush of logos when they shift against each other, rearrange themselves. They are indistinct shapes, splashes of colour that are blurred at the edges.
They should, Cassandra at least should, know better than to be distracted like this, to leave themselves so vulnerable to be spied upon by shadow men.
He doesn't recognise these things. They say nothing about him.
Summary: Things happening in caves, between girls, and things Bruce refuses to understand.
Rating: PG13, Cass/Steph
Something about bats and birds in his mind, as they press together, these two girls. Something wrong about the sharpness of their curves, about the places where they soften.
Through this perfectly angled mirror he can see the intimate press of costumes, Cassandra subsumed by the black bat and Stephanie shocking in red, sweat and blood from a mission he knows nothing about. It would almost seem innocent but for the way they look at each other, the intent in their eyes.
And then they are speaking without words, communicating with tongues. There is a strangely gentle look to the caress of gloves against skin and something horribly right about the brush of logos when they shift against each other, rearrange themselves. They are indistinct shapes, splashes of colour that are blurred at the edges.
They should, Cassandra at least should, know better than to be distracted like this, to leave themselves so vulnerable to be spied upon by shadow men.
He doesn't recognise these things. They say nothing about him.