#but needless to say : the NCOs being gym buddies is one of my favorite things about this au

[latibvles]

THIS, TOO.

#37 A KISS ON THE UPPER BACK. feat. boxer! charlie x former boxer! dick — send me a prompt here.

another one for my beloved @pomprincesse and this one admittedly had me sniffling. early morning dick and charlie feelings make me misty-eyed and I appreciate the enabling for more of this boxing au madness. consider it my apology gift for the ghost au.

She didn’t know getting punched in the face could reap so many prizes beyond… monetary ones.

Boxing gave her this apartment, no matter how shitty, is hers — with the dated cabinets, and the thin walls. It’s something she was able to get for herself, free up some room at home, and now her sister’s got a room of her own.

Boxing gave her Joe, Bill, Paulina, Malarkey, all the rest — as irritating as she claimed for them to be, she doesn’t know where she’d be without them. Alone, that little voice in the back of her head reminds her, you’d be alone.

And it gave her Harry, who believed in her, and Jean, the best corner woman she’d ever known, and Lew, who was almost too generous when sponsoring her all those years ago.

And it gave her this, too.

His hand, splayed over her abdomen, keeping her pressed against him, his leg over hers, keeping her caged to the bed. As if there’s anywhere else she’d rather be. Dick runs so warm it’s easy to forget how cold her apartment gets, and with no words, he manages to keep her in bed just for the chance to prolong this.

She feels the steady rise and fall of his chest, can imagine his sleep rumpled face, the freckles on his shoulders, the marks left in the night that will make him grin and roll his eyes, when he sees them.

On mornings like this, when she’s finally awake before he is, she almost has a hard time believing any of it is real. That it’s hers. That he’s hers. She doesn’t know if it’s luck or God or fate but she knows if she didn’t make Jean wrap her hands in medical tape and gauze all those years ago, she wouldn’t have him now.

Behind her, he groans, low and deep and sleep-filled, the sheets rustling as he shuffles back for a moment. She has half a mind to turn her head to greet him, but she doesn’t get the chance. He presses a kiss, soft and feather like, to one shoulder blade. Her breath hitches in her throat.

Dick moves to the other shoulder blade, another kiss pressed there. And then two, to the center of her upper back, she feels the grin playing on his lips, goosebumps rising to the surface where he’s all but seared himself into her skin at the ripe time of eight in the morning.

She loves him so much she could cry.

Instead, Charlie turns around beneath the weight of his arm, to look him in his sleepy, half-lidded eyes.

“Hey you,” he mutters, his voice still rough with sleep. She reaches up to run her thumb lazily over his cheek, smiling when his grin only seems to grow.

“Hey yourself,” she murmurs back, affectionate, shifting in the bed so they’re a little less than chest-to-chest. “Slept good, I’m guessing. Better than the train?” A slow sigh escapes him, the arm draped over her shifting so he can grab her hip, rub his thumb against her hip bone.

“Better than the train,” Dick parrots, eyes opening a little more, but just as reluctant. “Should probably get up.”

“You got big plans I don’t know about?” Charlie quips, and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, you caught me. How’d you know?” He shoots back, dry.

“Too smart for my own good, I guess.” She tries to shift him onto his back, pushing against his shoulder and he, ready and willing, lets her. She keeps her leg thrown over him, laying on his chest fully now.

“Mmm,” He shuts his eyes for a moment, lets his fingers trail down the curve of her spine, and she shivers. He opens his eye again, raises a brow. “You’re not gonna let me get up, are you?” Charlie grins, catlike, and presses a kiss to his jaw.

“You caught me.”