“You’ve seriously never thought about us kissing?” The superhero crooked an eyebrow. “We’ve been marinating in sexual tension for three years now.”
“You’ve seriously never thought about us kissing?” The superhero crooked an eyebrow. “We’ve been marinating in sexual tension for three years now.”
The villain choked. Went to hide their blushing face.
When they cracked two fingers apart to peak, the superhero was still staring at them through their cell's reinforced bars.
"No," they said. "You're a bit too terrifying."
That was not entirely true. The superhero was terrifying, yes. Loved by the masses. Feared by the criminal underbelly of the city. But the villain was enamoured, hopelessly, by that. The contrast between their charming, friendly persona that was reserved for the masses and their true cold, calculating demeanor left the villain hopelessly pining after them. They were incredible, truly. Perfection.
They ran their hands down their heated face and looked up.
The superhero's perfect face stared down at them. The villain looked down at their crossed legs instead. "I thought you were just toying," they mumbled. "With the flirting."
Silence, again. The villain glanced up at the superhero through their lashes.
The superhero tilted their head, observing. The villain pressed their lips into a hard line and crossed their arms, hunching their shoulders.
The superhero crouched down to meet their level. The villain tucked their chin in and leaned back, refusing to make eye contact. They heard the rustle of the superhero's gloves slipping off of their fingers. They dropped to the floor, right in front of the bars. The villain could've reached with their fingers through the bars and taken them.
"It doesn't change my offer," said the superhero. "I get you out of this cell in exchange for a kiss."
Had it not been for their dark skin, the villain was sure they would've lit up red. But they couldn't accept the offer, surely. They imagined even a brush of their fingers would leave the villain dizzy and swaying on their feet. They recalled, once, they'd thrown a stun bomb at the superhero and had them incapacitated for almost ten minutes. The superhero had risen up, suit torn because they had it remade every day because it was not completely reinforced so that the public could get glimpses of their skin (and that always, always left the villain faint).
They'd had them up against the wall, smiled down, body radiating heat, and said, "well, aren't you incredible?"
The villain's knees had turned to jelly immediately.
"I can get out of here on my own," they mumbled, biting their tongue right after they spoke so their brain wouldn't conjure up more memories.
"Is that so?" The superhero mocked a curious tone. "A little birdie told me you've bruised your whole body trying to break these bars."
The villain winced. They looked fully up at the superhero, then, and saw they had their cheek resting on their fist. Their eyes were lazily hooded. Their other hand rose to trail fingers down their own neck, to the side of their collarbone.
The villain's hand rose, automatically, to their own collarbone, to the bruise there that was exposed by the loose neckline of their shirt. They pulled it close. Their cheeks flushed for a different reason, then. They hated this cell and the way it suppressed their powers. It felt like one of their limbs had been cut off. They hated the Scientist—the villain that had trapped them here—for finding a way to suppress their powers even more.
They straightened their back. "Liar. This cell's shut down my powers. Maybe it's done that to you, too." They glanced back at the number of fortified doors the superhero had sauntered through when they first entered. They could've broken through those doors with ease.
Once more, the superhero crooked an eyebrow. They lifted their cheek from their fist and closed their fingers around one of the steel bars. The villain watched as it corroded beneath their skin.
The superhero spread their hand in a voila gesture, raising both brows. "Oh."
Dumbly, the villain pursed their lips. They seriously considered the offer, then. Glanced at the superhero's lips. Thought of how it would feel to have their lips pressed against the villain's.
Their lips buzzed with sensation. Oh, they felt dizzy right then.
"I'm not an idiot, in case you weren't paying attention," said the superhero. They tilted their head and raked their eyes down the villain. "I can hear your heart thumping like a bunny on caffeine. I always have."
The villain squeaked and put a hand over their heart, as if that would do any good. "You—you make me nervous."
The superhero smiled, then, all sly. "I know I do."
The villain's flush heightened, impossibly so. They didn't even know they could get this flustered. "This is unfair. You knew."
"I'm a very unfair person."
The superhero shrugged. "I'm terrible."
The villain clenched their fist. Everything felt very, very hot.
The superhero leaned in. They caught the villain's chin through the bars, bare, callused fingers rough and warm on their skin. "You're good," they said. "You're very good. You're exceptional, able to outsmart even me, and you just keep your talents on the down low so no one snipes you."
Again, the villain pursed their lips into a line. Wobbly. Burning with the phantom sensation of the superhero's lips on their's. They had nothing, then, just the heat curling all around their body. Fingers going shaky. "You'll take me out."
"Mm." The superhero tilted the villan's chin as much as the bars allowed them. Ran their fingers around the underside of their jaw. Skated up to touch one burning cheek. They smiled again. "To dinner. Or lunch. Or a nice little rooftop if you kiss me." They scraped their thumb along the curve of their bottom lip.
The villain's lips parted automatically. They took in a quivering, nervous breath. "You'll get me out."
"How long have you liked me back?"
One corner of the superhero's mouth curled up. It wasn't a camera-ready smile. It wasn't sly. It looked a little evil. It made the villain's heart flip hopelessly. "I might let you know if you kiss me."
The villain clutched the bars and leaned close. The steel brushed cold against their cheeks. They had to know. Was it since they first drew the superhero's blood? Or from that time one of their inventions sent the superhero flying through ten walls? Or one of the times when they had them blushing, pressed flush to a wall?
The superhero chuckled to themselves, tipped the villain's chin up just a little, and kissed them.
The villain sighed and pulled them close and the superhero pulled them closer. Their hands sneaked beneath their shirt and ran over their back, their sides, teased the edges of their waistband. It stung just a little bit from the bruises, but the heat the superhero's hands left in their wake left them too brainless to think of anything else but them.
The superhero leaned back first. The villain would've followed their lips mindlessly if it hadn't been for the bars. But instead they stayed there, breathless, lips buzzing intensely, cheeks still pressed to the steel bars. They tapped the corroded edge of the bar the superhero had touched.
The superhero ran their hands around the bars in a huge circle, and they snapped right off. The villain barely had time to get to their feet before the superhero had scooped them up into another kiss. This one was hungrier, eager for a taste, and the villain had to tiptoe to properly kiss them. They leaned back for air.
"Since the stun bomb," said the superhero. "I've wanted a smart, pretty thing like you since."
"O—oh." The villain wasn't sure how to respond to that, properly. They were already afraid they'd been misjudged on the smart part. They thought the superhero had maybe kissed them dumb. But they found that they didn't need to respond, because the superhero was kissing them again.
They walked out hand in hand. The superhero left them on a nice little rooftop, cheeks burning, lips still burning and maybe a little swollen.
The villain touched a hand to their cheek, feeling the heat there.
Oh, they were head over heels.
