Thorne's Lance

AN: This story is always one chapter ahead on my Patreon.

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The Titan flew on and on. A silver streak shooting through the sky, passing through the steel jungle of Jump City. He could feel the cool, midday wind whipping across his face and through his hair. 

Normally, flying so freely brought the young hero feelings of liberation - months out of containment, he would tell himself over and over to never take his freedom for granted. But today was different. 

Lance Thorne felt… disappointed. For a man to enjoy the company of Spider-Woman and Wonder Woman together and then lose them both, albeit temporarily… He understood why they needed to take a break. As heroes, it was their duty to be responsible about the possible lasting influence of his pheromones. It was necessary. Lance told himself such over and over again. 

No amount of self-assurance could rid him of that yearning he felt twisting deep inside - or the burgeoning hard-on trying to tear free from his super-suit. It was a good thing he'd taken to wearing padding down there. Lance would rather the Titan be known for his heroics than his ample virility.

In any case, Lance needed distractions.

So there he was, scouring Jump City to busy himself. Miles and miles and miles away from Diana and Jessica. Miles away from their brilliant smiles, their glossy lips, their silky hair, their soft skin… smooth and warm under the palms of his hands…

Lance shook his head, muttering under his breath. He flew on, coasting between the glittering towers of downtown Jump City. Down below, he could see cars, buses, and people bustling through the city streets. Sometimes he envied those normal people with their normal lives - they didn't have to deal with having the blood of the gods, both old and new. They didn't have to deal with the godly cravings that came with such godly heritage.

Then… he heard it. His attuned ears caught the sounds of a fierce scuffle - he heard the clash of steel blades and two voices rising in angry shouts - one man, one woman. Down in the guts of the city, they were doing battle. And they were close.

High in the air, the Titan made a sharp turn, changing direction in the blink of an eye. The wind gusted and boomed around him, shaking the windows of the towers close by. Then… he bolted downward, streaking to the streets below like silver lightning.

The Titan found them quickly. There in the middle of a small city park, just like he heard them, a man and a woman tangled in battle. 

The man was masked and armored, painted in orange and dark blue, wielding two longswords of dark steel. He was a tall man, formidable and with clear, deadly presence. The woman still was far more eye-catching.

She was tall as well and flying too, gliding quickly beyond the reach of the man's swings and stabs. Her figure drew Lance's attention first - powerful and feminine, taut muscle and bold curves both garbed in scant wrappings that covered even less than Wonder Woman's battle dress. Lance's eyes roamed in the span of heartbeats, drinking in smooth, flawless orange skin wrapped up in the purple fabric of her attire. There was strength etched onto her body, muscle clear upon her flat stomach, clear in the firmness of her shoulders and arms and her full, rippling thighs. But so too could Lance admire her womanhood. Indeed, this radiant creature was all woman. The width of her hips, the fullness of her breasts, the lustrousness of her long, bouncy hair… even her scent… Lance caught it blocks away, feeling the familiar tingle in his nostrils.

He drew closer, driven both by his heroic need to help… and that deeper craving that dwelled in the pit of his immortal soul. Hovering at the edge of the city park, his eyes widened in clarity. He recognized them both.

The mercenary Deathstroke and the heroine from Tamaran, Starfire.

The choice was obvious. His blood, his bones, his whole body demanded action. So the Titan leaped into the fray.

He landed hard, hitting the grassy clearing with enough force to send clumps of soil flying. It was more than enough to get their attention. He stood, the faint silver aura of his cosmic power swirling about him.

"Is this man giving you trouble, miss?" Lance asked, adopting the firm, heroic cadence of the Titan.

The Tamaranean glanced his way with glowing green eyes, still hovering in the air and keeping some distance between herself and Deathstroke.

"He is indeed bothersome, but I have dealt with his kind before." Starfire answered. Her fists glowed green to match her eyes, but burned even brighter. She shot her arms forth, sending a bolt of energy straight at the armored mercenary.

Deathstroke reacted quickly, moving far with far more grace than Lance expected from a man so solidly built and garbed in heavy armor plating. The mercenary flipped back just as Starfire's energy bolt struck the earth. Clumps of burnt soil erupted upwards, outwards - but Lance never lost sight of the masked man. He moved like a shadow through the obstructing cloud of dust, bolting for his target - for the Titan, not for Starfire.

There came the flash of steel, blades swung with deadly purpose. But Lance was faster. Where Deathstroke intended to paint the grass with the color red, the Titan was no longer there. He now stood some meters away, arms crossed and smirking.

Behind his mask, Deathstroke narrowed his eye. The mercenary remained tense, ready in his stance, his focus now split between Starfire and the new arrival. The odds were now quite firmly against him. But Lance saw no fear in the man's posture. Only annoyance.

He twirled both swords about his hands, deftly catching them both in a firm grip.

"I don't like interruptions, flyboy." He growled at Lance. "Take your hero bullshit somewhere else."

"You might need to get your ears checked." Lance shot back. He took slow steps forward, letting the silver energy swirling around his body to grow thicker, more intense. "The pretty lady finds you bothersome."

The masked mercenary let out a curse under his breath. Another brilliant bolt of green energy came hurdling towards him from the side. Deathstroke leaped out of the way, carrying into a tumble. He was quickly back on his feet, dashing behind the trunk of a thick tree.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Deathstroke called out. "You younger capes are getting too cocky these days." 

Two small objects flew out into the air. Lance readied himself, bracing for a blast of fire and metal. The canisters burst… but there came only a rush of thick, white smoke.

Lance heard the sound of a woman coughing. He caught sight of a silhouette of glowing green drawing closer. Starfire drifted through the cloud of smoke, floating up beside him.

"Careful, friend. That one is more dangerous than he seems." The alien heroine warned.

"Best believe her, flyboy." Came the mercenary's deep, gravelly voice. Despite his attuned senses, Lance could not place where his enemy was. Somehow, Deathstroke was projecting his voice in all directions.

But then, at the corner of his vision, from just beyond the shroud of white smoke, Lance saw it. The glint of sharpened steel.

The attack came quick, faster than a mortal like Deathstroke had any right to be. But it was not fast enough. Just as before, where the mercenary meant to strike true, the Titan was no longer there. And neither was Starfire.

Both hero and heroine darted away, streaks of silver and green. The sheer speed of their dodging forced the cloud of smoke apart. They came to a stop together, touching down hard enough to kick up more clumps of grass and dirt. Lance kept them steady… with his hand settled nicely on the small of Starfire's back. Right where her brief outfit neglected to cover any skin. 

Even in the heat of battle, the more primal drives of his male mind held some sway.

If his touch bothered her, Starfire didn't show it. Her focus - and fury - was elsewhere. 

Before them stood Deathstroke, weapons at the ready. The masked mercenary was outnumbered, outmatched… yet he remained undaunted. Utterly professional. Lance understood then just why the man was so renowned in his illicit field.

"You know you don't have a chance." Lance said pointedly. 

The mercenary gave a light shrug.

"Punching above my weight class is what I do."

Lance could respect that. But the fight had gone on long enough. He had a pretty lady to impress… and the feeling of her warm skin under his hand was already driving him crazy.

"You must be used to losing then." Lance snarked, smirking.

Deathstroke went tense, ready to leap for another attack. To a mortal man, he would have made a deadly enemy. Hell, he caused problems for other superheroes. But to the Titan, he was just too slow.

Lance made his move. In the blink of an eye, he was right in Deathstroke's face. Far too close for his swords to even touch him, what with the way his arms were outstretched. The man had maybe a single second to register just what had happened. Lance couldn't deny the satisfaction of seeing the shock in Deathstroke's eye. He planted one hand on the mercenary's chestplate… and shoved.

His two swords dropped to the soil, blades first. Deathstroke, however, flew back, striking a tree trunk several meters behind. He crumpled to the ground face-first and did not move. 

He wasn't dead. Lance could faintly hear the man groaning in pain.

Deathstroke was out of the fight. He never had a chance.

Lance floated over… and felt Starfire's warm presence following close behind. There was a certain satisfaction for those base, caveman sensibilities - beating the other guy in front of a beautiful woman. A juvenile sort of pleasure. But Lance never pretended to be high-brow.

"Stay down," The Titan said to the defeated. "For your own sake."

- - -

It took a few minutes for local law enforcement to come and collect the beaten Deathstroke. Lance didn't mind the short wait. It gave him time to chat up the bombshell Tamaranean.

Starfire was even more gorgeous up close. Lance made sure not to gawk, taking a far more subtle approach in his admiration. Quick, fleeting glances allowed him to appreciate the brevity of the heroine's outfit - it really amounted to little more than straps of purple fabric covering only the most intimate places of her body, her breasts, her buttocks, her sex. Other than the boots that covered much of her long, toned legs, the rest of her splendidly fit body was left bare. So much orange skin left on display, sensual curves catching the few scraps of snug fabric into alluring swells.

Ample and firm breasts, high and proud over her flat, muscled tummy, were pushed together by bands of purple to create a deep, mouthwatering valley of cleavage. It was a wondrous sight, demanding Lance's attention. But just as eye-catching was the heroine's bright, beaming eyes.

It was the look of a thankful - and intrigued - woman.

How could a man resist?

"That one was called Deathstroke." Starfire told him as the police finally arrived to lead the mercenary away. She drew near, standing by Lance's side with her hands set on her wide hips. The rookie hero stole another appreciative look, noting again those full, firm thighs of hers. Starfire continued to speak. "He used to be an adversary of mine, years ago. I do not know why he attacked me today. The Teen Titans have not been active for some time."

Her cheerful expression faded some as she took on a more puzzled look. Her brow pinched in thought.

"Maybe he wanted to settle an old grudge?" Lance suggested.

Starfire looked his way again, considering his words for a moment. But then she shook her head.

"I doubt that is the case. Though we have long been enemies, I have never known the man to be petty. Ruthless, yes. But not petty."

Lance gave a light shrug in turn.

"He's a mercenary, isn't he? Maybe this was a job and someone put a hit on you."

"Perhaps. I have other enemies. Some of them are quite bitter. And indeed, they might be petty enough for this."

The fiery-haired heroine turned to face Lance fully then, her dark red tresses floating almost weightlessly as she did. For the first time she really looked at him, drawing her eyes up Lance's suited form, sizing him up. From the glimmer in her eyes and the way her smile grew, it was clear that she liked what she saw.

"So you are familiar with Deathstroke? He didn't seem to recognize you. In fact, neither do I."

"I'm new to the superhero business, but I took some time to do research before I got in on the action." Lance answered, casually crossing his arms.

Starfire narrowed her eyes, peering closer at Lance. She gave a soft hum, biting her lower lip in a cute way. Lance nearly lost his focus all over again. She really was just drop dead gorgeous, this woman. Lance again took the opportunity to admire, taking in her high cheekbones and full lips, the smoothness of her flawless skin, those bright, green eyes, and that incredible figure…

"New… on second thought, I do recognize you!" Starfire perked up, her face brightening up with bubbly excitement. "You did battle with that mechanical giant in New York City! They showed you on the television!"

Lance smiled… and felt his chest swell up with just a bit of pride. He couldn't lie - the look of admiration on Starfire's pretty face was very pleasing for him to see.

"That was me." Lance admitted. He offered his hand to shake then. "It's an honor to meet you, Starfire."

"Oh, forgive my manners!" The Tamaranean heroine let out a short, gentle laugh. She took Lance's hand - her skin felt so warm and soft - and shook. "My real name is Koriand'r. But you may call me Kory."

Her touch lingered before she drew her hand away. And it simply was not possible for Lance to miss the way she tucked some of her hair behind her ear.

"In that case… it's an honor to meet you, Kory." Lance did not bother to hide his admiring gaze this time. "I'm the Titan. But you can call me Lance. Lance Thorne."

The pheromones coming off him right then must have been potent. The shift he was seeing in Starfire's - Kory's - body language was stark. It was in her eyes as well, the familiar dreamy haze he'd seen on Angela, on Jessica, and Diana. Kory's posture, her bearing, they turned every so slightly sensual - the way she rocked on her feet, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, the way she leaned just a bit closer to him. She was much more open now. Flirty. Inviting.

"The Titan." Kory repeated. Lance liked the way she spoke slowly, sounding out his hero name. "That is what we used to call ourselves. My old team, I mean. Did the Teen Titans inspire you to become a hero?"

She seemed almost hopeful. In truth, Lance chose his name because no one else had taken it. But that didn't make for a good story.

"It's a strong name." He told her. "It sounds impressive. Powerful. It fit your team well. I thought it would fit me, too."

Kory gave a soft sound of agreement. Her hand came out, her fingers brushing gently over one of his thick biceps. Her touch was warm. Lance could feel it, enjoy it even through the material of his suit.

"It fits you very well from what I have seen today." Kory drew even closer. "Thank you for the assistance, Lance Thorne."

"What kind of hero would I be if I didn't stop to help a lady in need? Especially one as beautiful as you."

A giggle bubbled up in Kory's throat, light and feminine. Her green eyes shined even brighter, girlish and gleeful. Her touch was warmer now and bolder. She had yet to take her hand from his arm.

"You are very beautiful yourself, Lance Thorne. I've never met an Earth man with silver eyes." She was practically pressing her full body against him now. It took great willpower for Lance to keep from scooping the woman into his arms at that moment. Kory's lovely voice came again, her tone now even sweeter. "Do you know how victories are celebrated on Tamaran?"

Lance kept a still expression. He breathed in, calmly, slowly. His very male spirit, however, was cheering.

"Can't say that I have."

Kory's hands slid to his chest, feeling up the broad muscle beneath the suit. She felt him up shamelessly, uncaring of the civilian onlookers who had gathered at the park, drawn by the commotion of their fight with Deathstroke. Lance was similarly unshaken. How could he care about having an audience when a woman like Koriand'r was so close, so warm, and so focused upon him?

"Come with me." She insisted in a warm voice, thick with want. "Come join me in my home and I will show you how my kind celebrates triumph."

The offer was barely above a whisper, but each word spoken carried such wonderful promise.

Lance's entire being was calling for him to take action. His blood cried out for conquest. A stolen kiss. A handful of breast or hip or plump backside. Anything. His body yearned to claim this splendid creature. But Lance held firm to patience.

Kory had offered herself plainly. He just had to wait a little longer until they were far out of sight of these surrounding onlookers. He couldn't take Kory right then and there. It would do the Titan no good to sully his reputation so quickly.

"That sounds perfect." Lance said. His heart was pounding, pumping wicked hot blood to every corner of his powerful body.

"Be warned, Lance Thorne. Tamaranean celebrations can last for hours, even days. They can be quite… strenuous." There was a challenge in her eyes, bold and spicy.

Lance returned her smile with a grin of his own, just as bold.

"I can handle it." He boasted, undaunted.

"We shall see. The Titan has yet to face a princess of Tamaran." Kory took his hand in hers and began to float up into the air. Lance followed close behind… and quickly took note of how his silver aura danced with the green glow of Kory. The buzz that rolled over his skin was all too pleasing.

It was fun to make new friends.