#not nighwing and bat girl
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
tim-drake-scholar · 10 months ago
Text
not to be controversial but i think Dick Grayson, Nightwing, the first Robin, should always be portrayed with long shaggy hair that is shorter in the front and longer in the back, and hair that curls when its long enough to reach the nape of his neck and brush against his shoulders
45 notes · View notes
river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years ago
Text
“That’s my husband,” Dick sighs at the reception, eyes only for Wally as he does a frankly ridiculous dance with Bart. Dick’s been fiddling with the ring on his hand nonstop, and it’s only been there for a couple hours but already he can’t imagine taking it off. Barbara calls them both dorks, and Dick doesn’t ever think he’s smiled as bright as he did.
“That’s my husband,” Dick says with a wink, and the shaking little girl underneath in his arms lets out a little sob-laugh. He got her to smile, anyway, and the was the goal. Wally’s out on the battlefield, arcs of lightning surrounding him, taking down enemy after enemy with an efficiency Dick taught him. Wally sends him a nod when the coast is clear, and Dick leads the civilians out of the crumbled remains of the building. He laughs a bit when a boy, only fifteen but patching up injuries with Dick like he’s done it all his life, tells him his husband’s so freaking cool.
“That’s my husband,” Dick shouts, slamming his hands on the table a bit harder than necessary, but Roy’s whoops and hollers make up for it. The restaurant they were at had a sign boasting a challenge: try and eat seven pounds of scrambled eggs, sausage, pepperoni, and hash browns in under an hour! Dick, Roy, and Donna had immediately turned to look at Wally, whose smug smirk could rival Dick’s back when he was Robin. Now, the restaurant employees were looking on with fascinated horror while Roy and Dick cheered Wally on, Donna recording the entire thing. Garth had his head in his hands, a look of utter defeat on his face. In the end, Wally won the challenge (of course he did). When they handed him the prize money, he gave it right back and ordered another huge meal for the five of them to share.
“That’s my husband,” Dick says, spitting out blood and a broken tooth with a devilish smile. The Court of Owls was supposedly mythical, supposedly untouchable, supposedly infallible. But even they were starting to get a little concerned. They’d stepped back in horror when Dick had only laughed at the taser a Talon spun in his hands, because Dick thought back to the nights Wally woke up screaming, lightning dancing around his body as he shoved himself as far away from Dick as possible for fear of hurting him, but fuck that. Wally was his husband, and nothing would keep him from doing everything he could to get that terrified look off his face and wipe the tears from his cheeks. Dick had been missing for three days, but that was enough. He could hear screams as something silent wreaked vengeance, Dick could recognize the affect Batman had on others blindfolded. Gunshots had pierced the air. But it was only when a crackle of electricity split through the air, when he could practically smell the ozone, that he looked up at the Court with a fearless smirk. He dared them to hurt him in front of Bruce, in front of Tim and Damian and Jason and Cass, in front of Wally. He dared them. 
“That’s my husband,” Dick tells the cashier, a proud look on his face. The cashier looked nothing but confused. It was Valentine’s day, and instead of buying heart shaped chocolates or a silk blindfold or anything, Wally had gone around the entire store and picked up ever single piece of Nightwing merchandise he could find. When he came to the register, a veritable mountain of objects spilled out onto the counter, including a Nightwing mug, seven Nightwing T-shirts, a Nightwing garlic presser, thigh-high Nightwing socks (which Dick knew for a fact Wally could pull off), a set of earrings a Nightwing charm, and a Nightwing pie dish. The cashier raised his eyebrows at the both of them, but Dick couldn’t bring himself to care, kissing Wally’s red cheek, flushed with pride.
“That’s my husband,” Dick murmurs into the side of Wally’s neck. They’re still dressed to the nines, at an event giving Wally an award for one of his scientific papers. It felt good to be the arm candy for one night, rather than the other way around. Wally’s ears had gone bright red from the minute they started talking about his achievements to the minute he stepped off the stage, but Dick felt nothing but pride. Dick hugged Wally from behind and Wally relaxed into it, going almost boneless. Tomorrow, the Flash would have to go to the Watchtower, because the Flash couldn’t not show up. Tomorrow, Nighwing would target that coke dealer that he’d been scoping out for the past couple of days, knowing the risk every time he put on that suit. Tomorrow, there may be an alien invasion or a robot army or an evil occultist, and Nightwing and the Flash would be in the middle of it all, fighting in the thick of the fray because that’s who they are. But for tonight, it was just Dick and Wally, fingers tangled together, the smell of ozone in the air that followed Wally wherever he went and the taste of home on Dick’s lips.
me: i should really write some angst. i’ve been getting far too fluffy as of late. let my readers suffer also me: DICK LOVES WALLY SO GODDAMN MUCH
anyway, tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @dangerduckjpeg @bikoncon @maplumebleue-blog-blog
569 notes · View notes
slightly-nerdy-rambles · 5 years ago
Text
Robstar Week Day 6: The Start of Forever (Prompt: Wedding Bells)
I love weddings. They’re just these big, happy, fun parties! So for this prompt I ended up going full self-indulgent mess and just sort of jumped in with very little plan... and I think what little plan I had didn’t even make it into the fic, whoops. The end result is less a single cohesive story than it is a series of events meant to evoke a sort of snapshot of these dorks’ wedding, and I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it.
(Note: You’re going to see a certain character here whose presence would make the Royal Family Verse go very differently, as I’ve had pointed out to me. Rest assured that I have not forgotten him in that ‘verse, and simply have different plans for him there than I do here.)
The Start of Forever
Penguin was really not having a good day.
It should have been an easy heist, or at least a relatively low-risk one. The Bat’s brat was getting married halfway across the country, which meant the whole posse was out for a couple days. And, sure, he’d made the mistake of getting cocky while Batman was away before, but this thing was a big deal – something about alien royalty, he hadn’t been keeping track of the specifics – and the way he figured, the only buddies of the big guy who wouldn’t also be there were the small-fry or the newbies of the Justice League. Still formidable to common criminals, of course, but to veterans who’d been dealing with the Bat himself for years? His gang could handle it.
But now here he was, his thugs already captured, his trick umbrella wrecked, and fleeing for what was beginning to feel uncomfortably like his very life. He could hear footsteps behind him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before –
There was the lasso. Before he could even try to dodge it, he was bound up tight and thrown flat on his face.
Penguin glared at his captor as she stepped into view, calmly looping up the other end of the rope bound to him. “Aren’t you supposed to be at a wedding?” he grumbled.
Wonder Woman gave him a flat look. “This was the only way to convince my colleague it was safe to go. I was watching the ceremony live, and I’d like to get back to that, so let’s get this over with.”
With one hand, she pulled him up by the loop of rope around his torso and glared deeply into his eyes. “Where are you hiding the loot?”
********
“Yeah, I really can’t help but feel sorry for anyone who tries to mess with Gotham right now,” Wonder Girl said, pausing to take a drink from her glass. “Di might be tough in the field, but she loves a good wedding. I’m kind of surprised she even volunteered to city-sit.”
Batwoman chuckled and leaned back in her chair. “Part of me kind of hopes a supervillain shows up there, if one hasn’t already. Not only would it make a great story, but it would prove the old man right about not leaving the city vulnerable and Wonder Woman won’t have to be mad at him.”
The two women shared a good laugh at that, before settling in to watch events around them. The wedding was a very… unique affair, which was inevitable when one considered the couple in question. Starfire was still technically Tamaranean royalty, after all; her marriage to a prominent hero (or rather, another prominent hero) meant too much for relations between her home planet and Earth to host it under the privacy of civilian identities.
Not that most of the Titans Network weren’t used to going around in uniform off-duty, but it made things interesting when fancy tuxedos and dresses were paired with the masks. The resulting “badass masquerade” feel of the party was oddly suited to both the many superheroes and the handful of boisterous Tamaranean dignitaries that had managed to attend.
Across one very active dance floor, over at the head table, Beast Boy and Cyborg were starting up a chant. They’d already had all their silverware taken away after one too many rounds of “tapping the glass to make the bride and groom kiss,” but this had only slowed them down for about twenty seconds.
Amidst an increasingly disruptive chorus of “Do it, do it, do it,” Raven leaned over to Starfire’s side. “They’re going to keep doing that until you give in,” she muttered.
Nightwing looked over from her other side and pointed out, “If we do, it’ll only encourage them.”
Raven shrugged. “Your call.”
Starfire just smiled and turned toward her husband. (Her husband! X’hal, that sounded good.) “I believe it all depends on whether we want to,” she declared, right before leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the mouth. His half of the table promptly erupted into cheers.
“Mmm.” Nightwing gave her that goofy little smile that never got old, and then stood up and held out a hand to her.
“Come on, let’s head back to the dance floor before they start up again.” His smile widened as he added, “As much as I enjoy kissing you, I’d rather do it on our own terms.”
Starfire laughed a little as she accepted his offer, and together they made their way into the throng.
As befitting its hosts, the wedding reception was a mixed bag of American and Tamaranean traditions. In a general sense, there was plenty of overlap – good food, energetic music, and a whole lot of dancing. But it was still worth noting when the couple made their way past several tables of casually chatting guests only to come across a traditional Feasting table sprawled over with several Tamaraneans (and one specially-invited reporter who’d wanted to sample the local flavor of the royal half of the wedding).
The free-for-all had died down significantly by now, but one youth had planted himself cross-legged in the middle of the table and was munching happily – and completely in leu of a fork – on a slice of wedding cake. He perked up upon seeing Starfire, and promptly flew over to her.
“Sister!” he chirped, still clutching his cake. “This Earth dessert is very good! Do you think I can bring some back home after this?”
Starfire smiled good-naturedly and shared a knowing look with her husband. “You might have a hard time getting a wedding cake, but a normal one shouldn’t be a problem,” she said. “I can even give you a recipe Cyborg and I came up with that uses Tamaranean ingredients, if you would like.”
“Why don’t you join us when you’re done?” Nighwing offered. “Star says you’re pretty impressive on the dance floor, and I don’t think you two have had much family time yet.”
Wildfire grinned and nodded, but as he returned to the table, Starfire lifted a few inches off the ground and swung around to face Nightwing. That was another Tamaranean tradition – for the happy couple to fully embrace their rapturous joy by spending as much time in the air as possible – and one she was all too happy to indulge. A little impish smile crossed her face as she pulled him out to the center of the reception hall.
Oh, but he did look fetching. They had opted to dress in the wedding wear of each other’s cultures, and as much as she loved her lacy wedding gown, she loved even more how well it paired with the long, loose white sleeves and classic armored accents of his suit. Even his mask had been altered for the occasion – narrower and sleeker than normal, with a dark silver replacing the usual black edges and tiny flared accents at the corners.
“I must admit, I do not at all mind you having to wear such a handsome mask on a day like today,” she thought out loud, pulling close to him as the two began to move in beat with the music. Then, leaning in and speaking in a voice too low for anyone but him to hear, she added, “I wouldn’t mind if you continue to wear it tonight, either.”
Nightwing smirked at that, resting a hand on the back of her neck and pressing his forehead against hers as he twirled her around the dance floor. “Sorry Your Highness, but I fully intend to see you properly for our wedding night.” He considered that train of thought for a moment. “Although we might be able to bring it on the honeymoon.”
Starfire held back a snort of laughter, instead schooling her face into a mock pout. “It is less fun when you refuse to be flustered.”
A little smile crept into the edge of her expression. “And this is a poor time to start calling me ‘Highness.’ You’re technically a prince now.”
Nightwing’s smile broadened. “I still can’t quite get over the thought of that. Please feel free to remind me whenever you like.”
Now Starfire did laugh. Rising a little higher from the floor, she wrapped both arms around his waist and looked to him with a silent question.
Her husband (and thinking that was still absolutely delightful) knew her well – he just smiled again and secured both arms behind her shoulders in answer, allowing her to lift him off the ground with her. Together, they joined the flighted guests that twirled whimsically high above the rest of the party, sharing in the joy of their union for both their worlds to see.
37 notes · View notes
heartless-error · 5 years ago
Text
Broken, not perfect, but together. - Chapter 7
Fandom: DC comics, Batman
Pairings: Jonathan Kent x Damian Wayne (JonDami) & Jason Todd x Timothy Drake (JayTim)
Rating: Family feels, hurt/comfort, mental health issues, running away, relationship reveal
Other(s) links: AO3
Broken.
The Batfamily was broken.
It was six years ago, and they had barely stood together since then, trying to stand up despite guilt and regret.
Damian was sure there was nothing to save, not after losing something that he didn’t know he cared about. But when a new opportunity to get back what they had lost appeared, he cannot help to doubt as his past decisions haunt him again.
If you love somebody, set them free. But you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.
Chapter Summary: That night, for a single moment, he thought that was good and everything would change. It did, but not in the way he wanted, because it wasn't that easy.
Chapter 7
 Six years ago
 When Nighwing and Robin returned to the cave after patrol, Red Hood’s bike was already there.
 In the usual darkness and humidity atmosphere of the cave, Damian looked at the vehicle bored like always, already used to Red Hood visits without warning and even expecting an annoying welcome from him. It didn’t come, but he knew that the slight tension in Nightwing’s shoulders was not only because of the stroke of luck that any thug had managed to give him tonight, but because unlike him, he was still slightly on guard when Todd appeared around them.
 However, they couldn’t see him anywhere. And while that might be alarming to Dick, Damian found it a relief not to have to suffer in his flesh how irritating the second Robin could be.
 “Shall we go to medbay, little D?” Asked Dick Grayson in that gentile tone that he hated so much in these situations.
 “It’s not necessary.”
 It really wasn’t. The discomfort he felt in his left ankle after landing badly during the fight was banal and didn’t need to be attended at all. A couple of days off would be enough, even less. He wasn’t that weak.
 “It will only be a moment, come on.” The older insisted. “Then we can rest, I’m sure Alfred has done something to us.”
 “Tt.”
 “At least we have to bandage that ankle.”
 “My ankle is fine.”
 The patrol had been fairly quiet, except for the little fight with Riddle and some of his thugs at the end of it, where Nightwing had been bruised a little and Robin had fallen awry at some point. In the end they had won, unsurprisingly, and Batman told them to return to the base while he was finishing the work alongside the GCPD.
He knew it wasn’t just because they were done for tonight, but to make sure their wounds weren’t serious. And they weren’t, a couple of punches in the face and a sprained ankle are like a starter for either of them, seriously, Damian had gotten worse injuries by playing hide and seek with Todd and Brown. But no matter how much he repeated this to his father and Grayson, he knew the last would drag him to the medbay as soon as they arrived, even if it was to apply an ointment as if he were still a child who didn’t know how to take care of himself.
 He was 16 and had only stumbled on the edge of a building. Calm down.
 “Grayson, I repeat that it’s not necessary.” He said again annoyed, even though the other one had already started to push him towards the medbay. “I am in perfect condition.”
 “You are limping.” He replied in a serious reproach. “If I won’t check you up Alfred will do it, what do you prefer?”
 Damian rolled his eyes, he shouldn’t abuse his weakness for Pennyworth in that way, nor to point out his innocent and banal limp, which was jus annoying. Grayson was not always going to get away with everything, although this time he was going to do it, seeing how he was dragged to that part of the cave without being able to resist. Sometimes it’s better to know when to surrender.
 He noticed how the older had not only examined him, but also his surroundings, with that slight tension increasing as they moved. Surely, he was trying to determine Todd’s location to keep an eye on him in that way Dick denied he did.
 “He’s with Drake, like always.” Damian though with boredom.
 It was very hard not to question Grayson’s detective skills when he didn’t seem to know -or rather want to accept- that the only reason Todd put a foot into the cave or any territory of the bats, was Drake. That, and maybe when he didn’t have a choice.
Although the silence was unexpected, since Red Hood made sure to be noticed in the place with the aim of ruin everyone night with his shrill false laughs, his harsh words full of sarcasm, his complaints, insults, and meaningless nicknames.  It didn’t take much thought to conclude that he would be with Red Robin somewhere. When Drake deigned to also appear there after patrol -generally when he didn’t have many options either- it wasn’t unusual for him to accompany or take him there, which explained the bike. The “red team” was a very annoying pack that sometimes shown to reaffirm that, indeed, the black sheep of the family had come together to… Well, do whatever they do when they are together.
 The last could variate from sharing cases and information between them, to having a heated debate about which Star Wars movie is the best. It depends of the day, but Damian generally preferred to be cautious in knowing where they were and what they were doing since that time he got into that debate and they joined forces to try to hang him upside down in one of the manor’s chandeliers.
 “What movie do you want to see later?” Dick asked, giving him a friendly pat on his back.
 “None.” He replied impassively. Although remembering about the chandelier episode made him wants to see Return of the Jedi.
 “Come on, Dami!” The other complained. “I have to go back to Bludhaven tomorrow, can’t we have brothers time?”
 “No.”
 “Ouch.”
 “I can’t.” He just explained it so that he would never have to hear that complaint, not worthy of an adult man. “I’m meeting someone.”
 He knew exactly what Dick was thinking from the way he raised his eyebrows and looked at him more intently. Needless to say, he didn’t like it, least of all when his eyes began to shine with amusement, as if he was about to insinuate something. The worst part of having older siblings was precisely this.
 “Oh?” He cooed. “With whom?”
 “Jonathan.” He hastened to say so that he wouldn’t have to bear one more of his questions. “I said him I’d call after patrol.”
 His time to see Jonathan had been reduced since he entered Gotham High, but they had been calling and they could last hours.
On the other hand, he knew what his older brother had assumed. Since he turned 14 approx. it looked like he and his father had been watching him closely to determine when to gave him that talk. They were like hawks waiting for prey outside the burrow, every time they thought they could give way to that moment, their eyes sparkled and the discomfort along with nervousness flooded them. The first few times it was fun, but when your father seems about to collapse because you invited a classmate home, stops. It was annoying and totally unnecessary and, to be honest, he prefer to sleep three weeks on Todd’s moldy sofa rather than having to go through the talk with any of them.
 “Oh, I see.”
 Dick’s curiosity dissipated in a second as he shrugged, totally agree that he had put his best friend up for that night and relaxing because it wasn’t a girl, or whatever he thought.
In one way or another, both his father and Grayson always ceased those alarmed looks and attempts to give him the talk when he mentioned his plans with Jonathan. They didn’t seem to find suspicious the fact that the super was the only person he allowed such proximity, or hold hands, or he called him almost every night, or even he escaped some of them to sleep at his home. No, for them it wasn’t an indicator that they were missing something important, they just let their guard down, let it pass and believed there was nothing else.
 Very naive on his part.
 “You can invite others to your movie night.” He hinted with a huff, quite irritated, already approaching to the medbay.
 Both knew who he meant by “others”. Damian was aware that as vigilant as he was at first, Grayson missed his other siblings, despite the fact their relationship hadn’t been the same for years.
You could tell from the way he looked sad when he had to be on guard around Todd, when Drake refused to trust him with anything personal or even the nostalgic, sorry smile that crossed his face when he suggested that as opened the medbay door.
 “I don’t think they could, they sure are bus-”
 He didn’t finish the sentence, because when they entered at the room the scene inside stunned them and paralyzed everything in an extremely uncomfortable and heavy silence, almost suffocating them.
 Tim and Jason parted from the deep, slow kiss they were sharing almost immediately, their sharps eyes shining and staring at them in a mixture of surprise and dread. They hadn’t been quick enough to disguise his actions, nor would they have been out of the question when Todd was still between the other’s legs and squeezing his hips tightly while Drake sat on the bed holding onto his shoulders.
 They were silent, he didn’t remember have never lived such an awkward moment in the cave. They were all looking at each other intently and with an oppressive tension flooding the room, threatening to crush them apart. Each one analyzing the others and on guard as ever, waiting for anyone to attack at the slightest movement.
Damian couldn’t locate the expressions in conflict of the others, they were a mixture of mistrust, suspicion and courage, the latter being the one wining as they recovered from the initial surprise of being discovered and began to raise their defenses little by little. Tim showed coldness and control, while Jason bristled completely. On the other hand, Dick had remained still as a statue beside him, barely breathing, he couldn’t glimpse his expression.
 He was still too, not knowing how to proceed, but somehow while a part of him was irritated and disappointed (because he knew Drake and Todd were smarter than that and knew how to hide better, what are they doing here?), another felt… calm? He couldn’t determine what emotions should he face right now, but there was a concern in his mind that had been there before entering the room. This had grown stronger and twisted in an unpleasant way when Grayson didn’t seem to react the way Damian knew he should by telling him he was meeting with Jonathan, but now…
He looked at Jason, then at Tim, at Jason, at Tim, at Jason, at Tim again. He noticed how they held each other, how easy they pressed their bodies together and how naturally they seemed to hug; He remembered that calm kiss he had just witnessed, how they seemed to treasure it; Remembered Tim wearing shirts and sweatshirts twice his size, Jason leaving patrol early because he had “a babybird to take care”, the two eating chillidogs on the rooftops, healing each other’s wounds, the smiles, the looks. Both in general.
 Damian felt something finally fit inside him.
 Beyond understanding better, the relationship of those two, it was as if he had also understood and accepted something of himself. Something that had always been there, but had kept locked up, misunderstood, barely visualized, that when seeing them together had deciphered at the end.
It had always been as if he was envious of them, but not at the same time, and without knowing why. But now, seeing them, he felt like he wanted that, no, he knew he wanted that, but not exactly, and somehow made him happy to admit it to himself for once. He was relieved, as if everything made sense now. Tim and Jason, he and Jon. No more confusion, no more doubts.
 Seeing them together, so closely, confirming his suspicions, was like proof of what he could have. That he really could have it, it could happen, and it was fine, he wasn’t alone, he wasn’t the only one. As much as Grayson and his father only became alert when they saw him with a girl, or as much as his mother and grandfather wanted a blood heir with a worthy woman, his brothers could understand what he felt and not judge him, not that he thought the others could do it, but the slight pressure and bitterness that left their expectations was not easy to carry.
But now that he thought about it, both of them never had, they never did that. Tim sided with them when their parents scolded him and Superboy for sneaking into each other’s rooms without permission, making them even accept that it was good for their hero partnership, winking secretly at them at the end; Jason sometimes invite them to food whenever they were on patrol and then leave them alone; and they both did react as they should when they heard something from both of them, but they seemed as reluctant as Damian to give or receive the talk.
 A slight smile began to form on his lips, realizing how much this helped him. This could change everything.
 It did, but not in the way he thought. It wasn’t that easy.
 “W-What’s going on here?”
 Nightwing’s puzzled voice broke the silence, further aggravating the atmosphere and making the relief Damian had begun to feel wobble, his little smile fading immediately.
Drake tensed in his seat, Jason frowned further, but they parted to face them properly. Although that didn’t seem to appease Grayson, judging by the rigidity of his posture, as if he were about to attack.
 “We had a complication on patrol.” Drake reported with the same professionalism as ever, completely ignoring the real question. “I was hurt, and we came to treat it, we’re already done.”
 That explained their presence in the medbay, why he was sitting on the bed, and the gauze and medical material scattered around them, recently used. But at the same time didn’t give any sense about why they were there when they had closer safe houses, why the cave system hasn’t given any notice of their presence and why they were trying to sneak around.  Drake was already dressed, his suit hiding any injuries he had come to treat in secret, surely the silence and kisses were useful and more adequate to treat someone while Alfred wasn’t around.
 “No.” Grayson denied, clearly that wasn’t what he wanted to know. “T-The other thing… Were you kissing?”
 That question asked in a suspicious tone was a direct statement that they had been seen, and he didn’t mean to let it go and pretend he hadn’t see nothing as much as they wanted to, which they didn’t seem to like. Neither Damian because it made look like they were doing something wrong. And they didn’t, right?
 “Yeah. So what?” Jason answered directly. It was probably the best; they couldn’t lie when they had two witnesses after all.
 “What do you mean “so what”?” Dick replied, his initial surprise turning to a slight reproach. “What the hell-?”
 “It’s none of your fucking business.” Todd declared fiercely, wanting to cut everything. “Drop it.”
 Of course, he was talking to Dick Grayson, a bat. He was an expert in stick his nose in everything and was stubborn to insufferable levels, he wasn’t going to drop this.
 “It is! S-Since when does this happen?”
 The last one already had an angry tone, close to a growl, a scolding. It made that feeling of calm that Damian treasured fade away to become a rough and insecure one, growing more and more as Grayson’s anger.
He didn’t even know what to say, at any other time he would have said something. But right now, with emotions flooding him, he knew if he opened his mouth he would agree with Todd and Drake, because is not their business. But if he said it, he was sure he would be sent to his room like a 10-year-old boy who forgot to brush his teeth after dinner.
 “Drop it, Dick.” Said Drake, shifting on the bed and ready to leave. “We’re leaving.”
 “Tim, please answer my question!”
 “You don’t want to know.” He said coldly.
 “Why I-”
 “Ya don’t give a shit, Dickface.” Hood interrupted him. “But you’re going to start a drama either way.”
 “And how do you want me to react?” Grayson replied, pointing at them, exasperated, as if he saw something the others didn’t.
 He could partly understand his reaction, it was an unusual revelation and how he had thought before entering the room, Dick’s relationship with them was broken to some levels almost irreparable. He barely saw them, knew something about his actual lives, meet them beyond patrols and missions, could rarely glimpse them from afar and had no chance to interact with them, so the initial shock might have been expected.
 “Just leave us alone, dammit!” Said Jason, his angry increased.
 “I can’t! You’re siblings!”
 That statement shook even him, and it seemed like a slap on the face for the other two.
In theory Grayson was right, but at the same time he was lacking. Legally, on paper, Drake and Todd were brothers, both adopted by Bruce Wayne, that’s right. But to tell the truth, the legal way was not so important in this case, since according to some papers Todd was dead and Drake has a lost uncle who took care of him before. They hadn’t grown up together, nor lived together, they had never even met duly before Todd’s resurrection, they had never seen each other as family, it was a fact.
 “It’s not-“ Tim began to explain, before being interrupted again.
 “And he tried to kill you”
 That accusation, sad and heavy as it would have been said, was like another slap, which again, even reached him. Because if they really started to argue who had tried to kill whom years ago, the argument would last all night, But no doubt it was Jason who was most affected by that, if the way his eyes burned with rage and his expression twisted was an indication. To tell the truth, it’s a miracle he didn’t attack Grayson for real.
 “Fuck you!” He attacked resentfully. “It was years ago, asshole!”
 “So what?” Dick returned his previous words, also letting his emotions dominate him. “Jason, you are still a murderer!”
 It was obvious from the way he said it and spat out the words he hadn’t thought much about the consequences of saying them, maybe he didn’t really think that. He was simply angry, nervous, confused by what he had discovered, and all of that clouded his judgement. But knowing that didn’t stop Damian’s throat from closing, and Tim dropped his façade to scold the oldest in an alarmed whisper.
By now it was common knowledge that even if Red Hood sometimes left the rubber bullets to use the reals, the blood shed was from people who couldn’t even be considered one for the atrocities they had committed. But that remained in a gray and diffuse line of morality that some bats still didn’t approve.
 “What the fuck are you saying?!”
 “I’m saying we can’t trust you!” Dick attacked again. People assumed Grayson was Wayne family’s ray of sunshine, but it was because they had never seen him angry. “You don’t seem to want to change, not to mention the pit influence. You’re dangerous!”
 “I’m already over it!” Hearing Jason saying this with fury, but without fight physically with someone at this point, it could be a real clue about how much Jason could restrain himself.
 “That was before or after trying to kill Tim for the sixth time?”
 “Why don’t you just shut the fuck up?!”
 “Because this it’s not okay!” He said pointing at the other two. “It can’t be healthy!”
 He was wrong. Damian knew it, but he couldn’t say it, why he couldn’t say it? The unpleasant feeling had grown bigger and bigger, now was crushing him, stopping him from speaking. He was just watching the other two arguing as if this was a tennis match.
 “Are you going to lecture us about it? You?” Jason said wryly, laughing out loud. “Sorry. I can’t speak I-fuck-up-all-my-relationships-because-I’m-a-selfish-shit.”
 “Listen to me…” Grayson sighed, lowering his tone to a calmer one, just like when he speaks to any victim or an altered civilian. “I love both of you, I’m saying this for your sake.”
 “Bullshit.”
 “I am your brother and I know either of you are… Unstable, much less to have any type of relationship with the other.”
 Damian almost protested, but his reply died in his throat. Because this was another thing Grayson might be right about if he didn’t lack information or common reasoning.
The fact that Todd was a crazy with very violent tendencies was not a secret, but it was true he had improved a lot in controlling himself and the pit rage over time; And regarding Tim, his severe depression and anxiety were also not a secret, you only have to have eyes, but like Jason, he seemed to deal with it better, especially with the right support and setting. The image of them Grayson was relying on to judge the whole thing was not only old but distorted on his part.
 “You have no fucking idea, so do us all a favor and stop talking.” Jason sentenced, more defensive than ever.
 “I know-“ Dick tried to keep explaining.
 “You don’t know anything, Dick.” Said Tim, again in that icy and sharper tone. “Nothing.”
 Somehow, Tim’s harsh coldness seemed to affect him much more, causing him to shake his head and look at them stunned, as if he couldn’t understand why they didn’t listen to him or understand what he wanted to say when he supposedly wanted to protect them.
 Damian had no doubt that was Grayson’s goal, after all, to protect them, from themselves and each other. But didn’t he realize it wasn’t necessary? Robin had been around those nights when Red Hood didn’t use real bullets or refused to be lethal, when Red Robin was persuaded to go to sleep or rest, and during some breakfast without capes after. He could say that part of Garyson’s reasoning was based in past events that had lost value today.
 They should have, right? Because if not, what about him?
 Swallowing the lump in his throat and wanting to ignore that unpleasant and accusatory feelings that flooded him, he tried to speak at last, when another voice, much lower than his and already known, knocked them all down.
 “What’s going on here?”
 All of the Robins straightened up instantly, glancing at the door where Batman himself were standing impassively and firmly. No one had noticed his presence, nor how long he had been there. A defeated sigh and murmured curses were heard, the heated and aggressive atmosphere that surrounded them turned again in an uncomfortable and distressing silence. Damian felt he might start to sweat.
 Nobody moved, each of them carefully evaluating his options. Drake, despite his position on the bed, looked at the exits they would have available if they were too fast; Todd raised his head and looked at them defiantly, still close to Tim in an obstinate posture.
He didn’t blame them, if Grayson had reacted like that, being as stubborn as he was, his father was not going to be better.
 This wasn’t going to end well.
 “What’s going on?” Again, Batman asked with authority, making everyone shudder.
 They were too used to responding to that voice immediately. And he supposed it wasn’t pleasant to come back and find half of your kids yelling at each other, but Drake and Todd didn’t move, and Damian didn’t want to either, but he felt he should. He had been in conflict since he opened that door and saw his supposed older brother’s reaction to something he considered good.
 “Father- ”
 “Red Hood and Red Robin are compromised.” In the end, it was Nightwing who spoke, cutting off his chance to stop this.
 The first in fall apart, as always.
 The silence followed that was tense and suffocating again. The seconds Batman took to answer seemed like hours, and during that time Damian couldn’t help but wonder if Dick had referred to Tim and Jason as Red Hood and Red Robin because if he put the vigilante’s identities before his brother’s it was easy for him to behave like an asshole who doesn’t listen.
 “I see.”
 He doesn’t. Surely, he was as surprised as them, but trying not to show it. Supposedly he was the best detective in the world, but he had not been able to realize what was happening between his pupils until now.
 “For how long?”
 Silence.
 The last question was directed at the involved, but none of them seemed to want to give any details.
 Even Damian’s stomach was churning at this, and he didn’t blame Todd for frowning any further, because this interrogation made no sense, even to him, and even though it wasn’t the first time he doubted his father and brother’s actions, it was the first one in which he strongly disagreed.
 “I’m done.” Jason ended up saying before the second question were made. “We’re leaving.”
 Nodding, Tim leaned against the side of the bed and stood up, ready to follow him toward the exit, which was cut off by the other vigilantes. However, the following words stopped then in their steps.
 “No. Red Robin stays.”  The dark knight declared. “Red Hood is leaving.”
 Both looked at him astonished. Nightwing lowered his head.
 “What?” Tim asked, surely his head setting up a plan already.
 “You are hurt and compromised.” He told them directly, they weren’t even going to wonder how he had found out everything. “We will examine you and discuss the details of this matter tomorrow.”
 He said the last looking at Tim and the medical supplies were used earlier, but the way they reacted, as if they were going to knock them off at any moment, didn’t say anything good. Tim stepped back and Jason and covered him with his height, trying to attract the attention to him.
 “Don’t even dream about it, Bats.” The taller one growled. “We are leaving.”
 “Guys…” Dick pleaded.
“You can’t retain me.” Tim said firmly. He was right, there was no way to contain him in a place against his will, because he would end up destroying the place and turned it into ashes just to get out.
 “You shouldn’t worry unless you have something to hide.”
 The implication of those words made Damian almost yell at him with fury, angry at his father for real for the first time in his life.
 “What are you implying?” Tim asked, more puzzled at each moment. The initial defenses he had built in front of them at the beginning seemed to break down more and more, and it wasn’t a worth thing to see.
 “Hood has shown violent tendencies towards you for years, which he continues to direct towards others. Your mental health is unstable as well as a suspicious effort to hide your wounds for a long time.” Batman said impassively, agreeing with Nightwing. “We know how to recognize the symptoms of a potential abusive relationship, and since you don’t want to cooperate, we can’t let you go before we obtain more details.”
 Damian wanted to throw up.
 “How can you think something like that?” Said Tim seriously, his icy anger seeping into every word.
 The question rather was “How can you think something like that of us?” Because if someone here was aware of what an abusive relationship was and its consequences, was Jason, whom his violent father beat him after having knocked his mother up. Red Hood was feared among abusers for a reason, or he was the only one who knew that? Also, Tim had always had an unhealthy tendency to hide his wounds, even before he became Robin. The fact his father was relating everything to reach that conclusion and pretending he was objective, was even offensive.
 “I haven’t assumed anything.” He tried to reason, though there was no way to believe him. “But this information is sudden and suspicious, we need to have evidence and facts beyond your words to determine what to do.”
 With evidence, he was referring to Tim, and what he thought he was hiding under his suit. Which he didn’t seem very willing to share judging the way he walked a few steps away, determined.
 “You already have.” Jason replied. “And it doesn’t matter what we tell you, you’re going to assume and do whatever you want. As always, it’s your fucking style.”
 “Your background is not the best.” His father answered. It was amazing how he was treating the whole thing like a daily mission, rather than a revealed relationship. “You are not objective and your reaction to this only gives us more reasons to reaffirm it has to end.”
 Unfortunately, he was right about one thing. The firmly way of refusing to show Tim’s wounds or being examined, however exaggerated, was a proof that there was something they didn’t want them to see.
However, because the way Todd faced them, it seemed to want to protect him from it, it indicated more that it was something caused by someone else. What’s more, the simple idea Todd could hurt Drake again, after knowing the truth of their current relationship, shook him inside.
 “Your reasons are bullshit.”
 “Little wing, you’re not helping…” Said Dick, thinking he would calm him.
 “Don’t call me that!” Jason shouted enraged. At this point, it was such a win he didn’t resort to violence. And how did his father and Grayson not noticed how much Todd improved when he could perfectly shoot them for this years ago?
 “We do it for the good of both of you.” Bruce said again, really convinced.
 “You want to force us to break up!”
 “Please, Tim, just let us check up tonight’s wound at least.” Dick said then, focusing in the other, taking a step closer to them.
 “Get away!” Jason shouted defensively, making him stand still.
 “We are worried!” The first Robin said.
 “You are being irresponsible and a danger to yourself and others in the field.” Batman declared again in that authoritative voice they were supposed to obey.
 “You two can stick your concern and the field in your asses.” Todd spat scornfully. “Do you even listen to yourself when you speak?”
 “I’m yours-”
 Neither was sure what Bruce was going to say exactly, but whatever it was they wouldn’t have been pleased under these circumstances.
Despite this, Damian didn’t even have time to think about it, or that or anything in general, because while they were still arguing, he instinctively focused on Drake, who had quietly retreated to lean on the edge of the bed and remained in an unusual silence with his head down, without apparent intention to intervene.
 “You’re nothing!” Jason cut Bruce up again. “Just a fucking hypocrite, you say we are a danger out there, but when it comes to you and Catwoman isn’t?”
 “Jason!” Dick exclaimed.
 Tim was vert quiet. Too much, right from the start, especially when his sharp sarcasm was what he used to stand out the most when he was deep in an argument. But now, even with Selina Kyle being mentioned, she hadn’t even flinched.
Damian swallowed, tried to ignore the screams around him, and looked at Tim carefully, still lying down on the mattress’s side and having raised a hand to rest on his forehead. Something was off.
 “What, hypocrite number 2? Do you want me to remind all the dangers you had in the field?” Jason continued, his anger more than palpable and lashing out at everything he had. Even if he couldn’t attack physically, he’s still fearsome. “You are just making excuses, but I repeat you’re nothing for us now, you cannot tell us what to do.”
 “Enough.” Bruce said sternly. “Leave. It’s impossible to reason with you in this state.”
 Damian looked at Tim more closely. The way he cringed on the mattress and struggled to hide his presence in the background, as if he wanted to be unnoticed; His hand on his face didn’t move, but his breathing was heavy, his posture didn’t indicate that he was suffering any pain or discomfort; His head was down, he couldn’t catch his expression, couldn’t see his eyes, but there was something…
 “Stop it.” Damian whispered in realization.
 “I’m not going to move! You never gave a shit about us, and suddenly this?”
 “Jason, that’s not true.” Dick complained, exasperated.
 The discussion continued; his words weren’t heard.
 “You’ve been years without knowing anything from us!”
 “It’s not like that!”
 “Stop it.” Damian repeated, this time a little louder.
 “No? You only want to play the perfect family when you need us in the fucking crusade.”
 “What? No!”
 “Of course not! After all, you’re the golden child, who has not been discarded as trash.” He said to Grayson feigning a compassionate tone. “But it’s all a lie, like him, all you know is how to discard the unworthy toys after they fail.”
 That broke Damian inside, and made Tim gasp.
 “STOP IT!”
 That scream was what finally ended it all.
 Damian didn’t know he was going to scream so loudly, but all he was certain was that he felt like he was going to explode at any moment, and he didn’t like seeing Drake cry. Because he had never seen him shed a single tear, never, ever. Despise everything he had done to him, everything he had said, everything he knew he had lived through. Not once, until now. The implication that all of this could get him reach that point made him want to scream at his brother and father non-stop, a sense of need of protection had arisen him without realizing it.
 The argument was instantly finished, leaving behind shaky breaths, the natural sound of the cave behind them, and Tim’s almost silent sobs, which he struggled to hide as if his life depended on it.
 He could feel the confusion and guilt of everyone in waves, as well as the indecision of not knowing what to do or how to continue this. Neither seemed to want to change their minds, some wanted to leave and be together, and others wanted them to stay and break up. Grayson seemed to be restraining himself so as not run where the third Robin was and comfort him, also moderating himself because Todd hadn’t moved yet from his place, covering the smallest vigilante even if everything in him indicated how much he wanted to turn around and calm him.
 Damian shook his head, almost defeated. Too many emotions flooding him in the moment, none of them good. Some things said in the argument resonated strongly in his mind, causing the confidence he had built at the beginning of the night to collapse like a sandcastle. He couldn’t even let go of the fact he had frozen from the start, like he was a beginner on his first mission, unable to react. He wanted to refute so many things, all of them, to tell them half of what they thought was not true, what they wanted to do wasn’t the right thing even if they think otherwise.
 “Robin, to your room.”
 That order cut the silence like a sharp knife.
 “No.” He instantly refused.
 He couldn’t go, not like that. They couldn’t leave him out of this like he was still a child.
 “Robin.” Batman repeated more seriously than ever, as if giving him an ultimatum.
 He didn’t move.
 At least he didn’t plan to do it. He wanted to say many things, everything he hadn’t been able to during the argument. What they knew, what they didn’t, where they were wrong, what they had made wrong, good and the bad decisions.
But then, he raised his look and his eyes met with Tim’s across the room, watery and red, but shining in determination. His hand on the mattress that he could see form his position moved, giving him Titan’s own directions to communicate with him in secret.
 “It’s okay. Go. I’m sorry.”
 He looked at Jason, who still impassive, narrowed his eyes at him.
 For some reason, they didn’t want him to get involved.
 Damian took a step, then another, another and yet another, his ankle throbbing in pain, but ignored it. Before he knew it, he was running into the manor, straight to his room, wearing Robin’s uniform despite Alfred’s strict policy and ignoring the pain in his joint, because there were things that hurt him more right now.
Even the loud slamming of the door didn’t help to clear his mind, as he was still assimilating the facts and claims he had heard down there. He leaned his back against the door and tried to breathe deeply, but he couldn’t, he was drowning, he was sinking, everything hurt, he didn’t feel his ankle. Damian ended up sitting on the floor with the weight of the words increasing more and more on him.
 “He tried to kill you.” “You’re a murderer.” “We cannot trust you.” “Dangerous.” “Not okay.” “Can’t be healthy.”
 Beyond the sound of his heavy breathing, the pounding of his heart and Grayson’s voice running through him and hammering his head, he heard the predetermined melody of his phone, ringing near him.
 “Abusive relationship.” “It has to end.” “Irresponsible.” “A danger in the field.”
 His phone continued to ring. He knew who it was, he had promised to call him after all. Just like the other nights.
 “Play the perfect family.” “Just like him.” “Throw away the unworthy toys.”
 He ignored that call and the following ones. Just shrugged on himself and didn’t move until next morning.
 By then his brothers were already gone.
9 notes · View notes
thepartyresponsible · 6 years ago
Text
here’s the first fic for inbox cleaning week! i’ve received a few separate prompts for deadpool and dc crossover fics, but i’ve never actually had any luck writing them. i think the problem is that i was trying to throw wade wilson at jason todd, and that’s a molotov cocktail, not a love story.
so here’s deadpool falling absolutely in love with dick grayson. it’s ridiculous and fluffy and shockingly low on violence.
Word comes through the various superhero backchannels that Batman’s got himself murdered again. Or kidnapped. Stolen, dimension-hopped, married. Whatever. The point is, the Dark Knight is brooding in a better place. Or a worse place. A different place, definitely. That much, Wade knows, is true.
A power vacuum in Gotham is never a good thing. The local villains go wild in Bat’s absence, and it’s not the fun kind of wild with foam parties and naked dancing and drunken mistakes. It’s the kind of wild with blood in the streets and monsters rising from the sewers and terrible deaths played out to the soundtrack of mad laughter.
That kind of thing spreads, is the problem. It’s infectious. What starts in Gotham will spread to New York, and Wade doesn’t wanna deal with Gotham bullshit in New York. He doesn’t want New York to feel like it has to one-up Gotham’s weirdness. New York is weird enough.
So Wade, a concerned good-hearted citizen, a real man of the people, swings by Gotham to check up on things.
He expects to see Robin, if he’s lucky. Or maybe Batgirl. Red Hood, if things get especially spicy.
The last he heard, Nightwing was over in Bludhaven, so he doesn’t expect to see him at all.
It’s hard to tell, honestly, if Wade would’ve been prepared to see him if he’d had some kind of warning. It is not at all hard to tell if he’s prepared to see him unexpectedly. The only hard thing is him. Specifically, it’s his dick. Immediately.
It’s not his fault. Nighwing comes back-flipping into a street brawl like he’s qualifying for the Russian women’s gymnastics team. He’s lean and muscular and beautiful, wearing something blessedly skintight, and Wade thinks the entire world stops on its axis, stretches out time, just so he can stare, open-mouthed, at the shape of Nightwing’s ass as it spins under the murky glow of Gotham’s streetlights.
“Holy shit,” Wade says, when Nightwing kicks off a wall, knocks a man unconscious with his thighs, and then does a full twist in the air before hitting the sidewalk in a perfect three-point superhero landing.
“Oh my God,” Wade says, barely breathing. “Do that again. I missed my chance to shove a twenty in your utility belt.”
“Deadpool?” Nightwing stands up, rising from the busted concrete like Aphrodite from the sea. There’s a chorus of angels singing in Wade’s head; he doesn’t know Latin, but he thinks it’s a cherubic cover of Baby Got Back. “What are you doing here?”
“Fighting the good fight,” Wade says, staring helplessly at the bulge of muscle under all that sinful spandex.
Nightwing’s head tilts to the side. “The good fight?”
“Trying not to jizz in my pants,” he clarifies.  
It’s not his best first impression. But at least it’s an honest one.
Nightwing makes him promise not to kill anyone within Gotham city limits, and Wade feels like that’s a perfectly reasonable ask, because he was prepared to offer up three kidneys, half his teeth, and all his childbearing years.
He has a bit of trouble early on. Deathless crime fighting falls outside his general oeuvre, and there’s a whole caper two days in where a guy drops dead of a heart attack, and Wade spends twelve hours desperately hauling the body from one dumpsite to another, trying to find one the Bats don’t know about. But all in all, he does alright, and Nightwing takes him on a romantic picnic a week into his stay to celebrate.
“Is this a date?” Wade asks, as he kicks his heels over the side of the building, biting happily into the cheeseburger Nightwing handed him out of a takeout bag. “Because I’m not really that kinda girl, but we can totally do butt stuff on the first date if you want to. It’s just that you’re so gentlemanly and svelte. You’re completely overwhelming my natural modesty.”
“Svelte,” Nightwing says, laughing. He takes all of Wade’s flirting in stride, and Wade honestly can’t tell if it’s because he’s not interested or because he gets hit on so much and so often that he thinks it’s just how people talk to each other.
Last night, Wade slapped him on the ass in a last-ditch effort to clarify his intentions, and Nightwing just ass-slapped him back and then yelled “Good game!” over his shoulder as he executed a perfect double tuck off a fire escape.
“Bluebird,” Wade says, with a heavy, wistful sigh. “You’re breaking my heart.”
Nightwing looks over at him. He’s got a smear of ketchup right before his bottom lip, and his jawline makes Wade want to lick him from his chin to his ear.
Well, and everywhere else, too.
“You’re a funny guy, Deadpool,” Nightwing tells him. “When Batman comes back and runs you out of Gotham, you’re welcome to take sanctuary in Bludhaven.”
And isn’t that the perfect metaphor for the pair of them? Nightwing, human embodiment of grace and goodwill, ushering Wade, sack of sin in human skin, into a place of sacred safety?
“Okay,” Wade says. “But only if I get to show up in a nun costume and confess my sins on my knees.”
Nightwing nearly chokes on his food. When he looks up at Wade again, he’s smiling, wide and cheerful, a little crooked. He reaches over, pats Wade on the knee, and his fingers must slip on the way back, because they run halfway up Wade’s thigh before he pulls them away.
“Whatever makes you comfortable,” he says.
Wade finds Red Hood in a shoot-out, and the pair of them go through some genuine gymnastics to get the whole thing calmed down without murdering anyone. Wade gets shot five times toward the end, when he gets bored of all the tireless back-and-forth and hops out from behind cover to go chase down the last guy. One of the bullets nicks his spine, so he ends up lying on the floor, face mashed into a growing puddle of blood, waiting for that to heal, but Red Hood’s a real sweetheart and comes along to drag him bodily to a dry patch.
“Hey, Red,” Wade says, when he can finally roll over under his own steam. “First of all, great color scheme.”
“Thanks.” He doesn’t sound like he means it. He’s doing some Florence Nightingale cosplay routine on the criminals, patching them up while they lie there unconscious or bat at him weakly, cursing the whole time.
“Second of all, about Nightwing.” Wade pushes himself up on his elbows, tries to move his feet. They don’t respond, so he leans back, settles in to wait a little longer. “What’s he like? What’s he into? Flowers? Wine? Fellatio?”
Red Hood’s head swivels his direction. There’s a long pause. His hands move suddenly, and the trafficker on the ground underneath him screams.
“Yikes,” Wade says.
Red Hood ignores him and goes back to work. Wade watches as he takes a marker out of some unseen pocket in his suit and writes TOURNIQUET 1:21 AM on the criminal’s forehead. When he stands up, his pants stretch over his prodigious thighs, and Wade hears angels signing again, but they’re a little half-hearted about it.
A minute or so later, Wade climbs shakily to his feet and stretches while his nerves get their shit together. “I mean it,” he says, walking across the warehouse. “Nightwing. I’m trying to woo him. Got any tips?”
“You could fuck off,” Red Hood says, off-hand.
“Novel approach,” Wade says. “Don’t see how it’s gonna help.”
“It’s gonna help me.” Red Hood surveys the bloody scene, hands on his hips. He points directly at a pale man in the corner, whose leg is so badly broken than his toes are somehow pointing directly behind him. “You’d better not fucking go into shock. EMS is five minutes out. You’re alive when they get here, or I’ll kick your ass.”
“Yeah,” Wade says. “Me too.”
Red Hood shakes his head and stalks out of the building. Wade follows at his heels. All these Bats have really amazing asses. He wonders what their workout routines look like.
“How many squats do you do?” Wade asks. “I mean, hourly. What’re we talking? Two hundred?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Red Hood ducks into an alley, and Wade ducks right along beside him.
“Nothing. I’m just curious about those thighs.”
Red Hood lets Wade follow him all the way up the fire escape, but then he turns around, blocks his path, and stares at him through the eyes of the helmet. “Stop following me. I promised not to kill anyone in Gotham, but you can’t die.”
Wade blinks at him. “What’s that mean?”
“It means,” Red Hood says, leaning in, “that I can do anything I want to you. Won’t kill you, right? And I’m in a real bitch of a dry spell.”
“Jesus, Red,” Wade says, clutching at nonexistent pearls, “did you mean that to sound as sexual as it did?”
Red Hood makes a low, disgusted noise. “Aren’t you panting after Nightwing?”
“Sure,” Wade says. He swallows, shakes his head a little. If Red Hood is the scintillating demon in skimpy red lingerie, Nightwing is the beautiful angel in white lace, and he’s trying to be good here. He’s trying to orient himself, dick-first, toward the side of light and beauty. “But, hey, I’m a flexible guy. Listen. If you put on a domino mask, maybe spray paint that red bat blue, we could have something.”
Red Hood visibly recoils. “I’m gonna throw up,” he announces.
“Yeah,” Wade says, nodding. “A lot of my romances start that way.”
Red Robin won’t give him any advice, either. He won’t even talk to him. He scampers away into darkness every time Wade so much as gets close.
He corners him, finally, when Red Robin’s in the middle of doing something complicated with what appears to be an actual, no-shit time bomb. There’s a digital timer counting down and everything. It looks like something out of a 90’s movie.
“Hey,” he says. “Sorry. I can see you’re busy. But if you had to seduce Nightwing in five minutes or less, how would you do it?”
“Are you serious?” Red Robin points empathetically at the bomb. “I’m working.”
“Yeah,” Wade says. “I see that.” He glances at the timer. “Looks like you’ve got at least thirty seconds to answer the question.”
Red Robin make a series of persecuted noises. “I can’t believe he was serious,” he says, when he’s done.
Wade feels a flutter in his chest. It could be the chalupas he fished out of the dumpster four blocks back, but he thinks maybe it’s love instead. “Who? Nightwing? Was he talking about me?”
“No, Red Hood. He mentioned your weird crush in the group text.”
Wade gasps. “I made the Bats’ group text? Batman’s gonna see my name?”
Red Robin peers up at him. It’s hard to tell, given how much of his face is covered, but he looks pained. “Nightwing likes redheads,” he says. “Busty redheads.”
Wade thinks it over. “I can get surgery,” he decides. “And a wig.”
“Oh my God,” Red Robin says, and severs a wire.
They don’t blow up. That’s probably more important for Red Robin than it is for Wade.
Wade gives him a companionable slap on the back. “Hey, look at you, kid. You’re doing great.”
The look Red Robin directs his way is bleak. “Honestly, I was kind of hoping for a quick death.”
The smallest Bat doesn’t speak to him at all. He just comes at Wade with a sword. It’s maybe the single most adorable thing Wade’s ever seen.
“Look at you!” Wade coos, as they dodge and spin, blades clashing against each other. “You’re so cute and angry, oh my God!”
Robin shrieks something shrill and then tries to take his head off.
Nightwing and Red Hood arrive to break things up before the fight can get out of control. Wade loses a couple fingers in the brawl, but he manages to keep Robin from getting nicked even the littlest bit. He gives the kid a jaunty wave as Red Hood hauls him away in a fireman’s carry.
“You’re doing great, sweetie!” he yells. “I’m so proud of you!”
Robin flips him off with both hands, and Wade honestly tears up a little.
“Kids, huh?” he says, knocking his shoulder into Nightwing’s. “They’re the future.”
Nightwing runs a hand down his face. He seems embarrassed. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “Red Hood made a joke about protecting my virtue, and Robin didn’t get the humor.”
Wade nods sympathetically. “They’re very literal at that age.”
“Yeah,” Nightwing says, sighing heavily. “God, that’s embarrassing.”
Wade checks on his hand. The last three fingers of his left hand are just tiny little spurs of skin and bone, re-growing as he waits.
Nightwing breathes in sharp across his teeth. “He cut off your fingers?”
“Yeah.” Wade shrugs. “He’s a scrappy little thing, huh? But they’ll grow back.”
“I’ll have a talk with him,” Nightwing says. His hands land on his hips. He sounds deeply aggrieved on Wade’s behalf. Those butterflies come back, and Wade hasn’t eaten since he stole a box of Fruit Loops this morning, so he knows it’s not indigestion this time.
He nudges Nightwing with his shoulder again. “You could kiss it better,” he offers, with blind, desperate optimism.
Nightwing turns to stare at him. His eyes are an unreadable white behind his domino mask, but his mouth is twisting up into a dubious smile. “You want me to kiss your bloody stumps?”
Wade swallows. “Can I, uh.” He stops, swallows again. “Can I pick another stump for you to put in your mouth?”
Nightwing snorts and then shakes his head. His smile is breathtaking. Or would be, if Wade hadn’t snuck a quick glance down at his ass while Nightwing had his eyes closed. As it stands, Wade doesn’t have any breath left to take.
“Let me buy you dinner,” Nightwing says. “To make up for Robin.”
“Oh,” Wade says, perking up. “A second date, huh? Can we do it without the gargoyle chaperones this time? No offense, but they’re a real buzzkill.”
Nightwing shifts beside him. He makes a low, thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. “We can do it at my place,” he offers.
“Jesus, baby blue,” Wade says, “I can’t deal with the innuendo anymore. You gotta cut it out. I’m gonna ruin my pants.”
Nightwing grins, smug and crooked, and reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck. He’d seem almost shy, except Wade can’t believe for a second that a man who’d willingly leave the house in that outfit has a single spare ounce of modesty left in him.
“Who says it’s innuendo?” Nightwing asks. He glances up at him, sidelong through the domino mask, and Wade’s heart swoops, spins, and settles into the pit of his stomach. “Maybe it was just an offer.”
Wade wonders if he’s hallucinating. Maybe that tiny little Robin drugged him somehow.
“What?” he asks, turning to face him straight on. “What was that, Bluebird? Sorry, I hallucinated.”
Nightwing laughs. He’s still smiling, bright and friendly. “Come on, Deadpool. Let me buy you dinner. We can take it back to my place.”
“Maybe you’re hallucinating.” Wade steps closer, checks Nightwing over from the top of his artfully messy hair to the tread of his boots. “Did that little demon get you? Hit you on the head? Stab you with a needle, dose you up?”
“Hm, maybe.” Nightwing doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by how close Wade is. His voice is a little lower, though, dropping into bedroom range. “Maybe you’d better check.”
Wade stares, open-mouthed.
Nightwing shakes his head a little, still smiling, and then he reaches down and takes Wade’s hand, knots their fingers together, and tugs him toward the door. “You coming?” he asks.
“God,” Wade says, stumbling after him, ready to follow him to hell and back, right through the worst parts of Gotham. “God, not yet. But I’m really close.”
178 notes · View notes
dick-g-ayson · 5 years ago
Note
For the prompts: Enamor me + JayKon? I'm thinking one of them is trying to woo the other one, but in a so weirdly specific way that the other one is like 'is he trying to tell me he likes me or is he trying to kill me?' But honestly, go wild! I love the way you write them anyway! :D
Jason killed the engine on his bike, and reaching up with shaking fingers, pulled his helmet off.  The buzzing that had been roaring in his ears the whole ride back to the Cave didn’t cease.  If anything, it got louder.  He swung off the bike and hung his helmet over the handle.  He stood there for a few moments, hands fisted at his side, fingers spasming, convulsing almost, as he tried to calm himself down.
All he could hear was the yelling, gunshots, and more screaming.  He clenched his eyes shut tight behind the whiteouts of his red domino mask, taking slow, deep breaths, and holding them for a few seconds before releasing, only to repeat the process all over again.  Breathing exercises ingrained from his time as Robin, as much a habit as cleaning his guns was, as much a ritual as anything.
They weren’t helping tonight.
Too much noise in his head, too much yelling, too much screaming, and he doesn’t know if it’s echoes from earlier that night, or from his past, but it’s all too loud, and toomuchtoomuchtoomuch.   His spiraling thoughts grind to a halt as a rough hand gripped his shoulder.  He barely restrains himself from drawing his gun when Nightwing spins him around.
“What the hell was that, Hood?”  N's voice is dark and low, creeping closer to Bat than bird.
Jason blinked behind the dom, realizing he hadn’t even heard Nightwing pull up into the Cave on his own bike.
“I think it’s called apprehendin’ assholes, bu’maybe th’lingos changed, an’ no one bothered t’tell me.”  Jason’s reply sounds robotic even to his own ears, but Nightwing didn’t seem to notice, or care, and Jason isn’t sure which one hurts more.  Jason pulls his arm out of the other man’s grip, taking a step back, still trying to calm the noise in his head.  An incessant sound that keeps threatening to drown out the world around him.
“You know that’s not what I meant.”  Nightwing’s voice sounds hollow and far away, like he’s at the end of a tunnel, and Jason struggles to stay focused on it
“Then maybe y’should spell it out f’r me Goldie.”  The Cave feels too small and too big all at once, their words echoing back at them, noise pressing in on his skull.  “‘Cause all I did, was make damn sure that three idiots won’ ever peddle t’kids again.  An’ I didn’ even kill any of’em.”  All Jason wants is to go back to his apartment.  He wants out of Red Hood, wants the quiet of his apartment, the comfort of his space.
Nightwing is talking again and it takes more willpower than Jason realized he possessed to focus back on him.
“......One of them may never walk again, another might lose his hand, and you think that’s okay?”
Jason titled his head as he took in the older vigilante, who was sounding so much like Batman it was making Jason’s skin crawl.  “Lemme think abou�� tha’ fer a second...yup, pretty much.”
“Why......no I don’t care why. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinkin', tha’ since I swore I wouldn’ kill anyone, tha’ makin’ sure they could never hurt anyone again was th’next best thing.”
“Jason -”
“No, y’don’ get t’lecture me, Nightprick.  Y’wanted m’help wit’ this, y’know m’stance on peddlin’ to kids.  Why th’fuck would y’expect any other outcome?”  Jason turned and made a grab for his helmet, more than ready to be done with this whole night.  He’s stopped again by Nightwing’s hand wrapping around his arm.
“Don’t just walk away, Jason -”
“Let go of me.”  Jason had gone completely still as soon as Nighwing’s hand had grabbed his arm, tense and coiled like a loaded spring.  His skin was crawling and burning at the same time, that odd dual sensation that he got whenever someone touched him without premission.  There were very few people he accepted random touches from.  The first Robin was not one of them.
Nightwing slowly let his hand drop and Jason immediately stepped out of reach, fighting to keep himself from shaking hard enough to notice.  Not that he thought Nightwing would, as far up on his high horse as he was.
The roaring was loud in his ears again, drowning out everything.  He could hardly hear himself breathing, let alone if his  brother  was trying to say anything to him.  He jammed his helmet on his head and swung back onto the bike in one smooth, controlled movement, body moving by muscle memory alone, as he kicked the bike into gear.  He sees Nightwing throw an arm up to cover his face, blocking the dirt and rocks the bikes tires kick up as Jason peels out of the Cave.
“What do you mean you haven’t heard from Jason in over a week, Dick?”  Tim’s voice is sharp, and he doesn’t miss the way his older brother’s shoulders tense slightly.
Dick crosses his arms over his chest, looking down at Tim steadily from where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter.  “It’s exactly what it sounds like.  We got into it after he went too far when we took down a drug ring.”
Tim rolled his eyes, walking across the kitchen to pull down a glass from the cupboard, and getting some water from the fridge.  “You know how he feels about drugs, Dick, why -”
“He nearly killed 3 people.”  Dick’s tone is flat, emotionless, Batman.
Tim froze, glass resting against his bottom lip, blue eyes widening.  “That’s...he hasn’t gone that far in a long time.”  He took a sip from his glass, and placed it back on the counter before turning his head to look over at Dick.  “Did you ask him why?”
Dick look offended as he answered, letting his hands drop to rest against the counter, fingers curled around the edge.  “Of course I did, who do you take me for?”
Tim stared at his older brother impassively for several moments, taking another sip of his drink.  “Did you ask him why and if something was bothering him?  Or did you just demand to know what he was thinking?  Because those are two very different things, Dick.”  The silence that followed Tim’s statement his more than telling enough for Tim, and he walks over to the sink to dump the rest of his glass.
“Look, it doesn’t matter -”
“Of course it matters Dick!”  He whipped his head around to glare at Dick.  “This is Jason!  He always has a reason for the things he does, even if we don’t always – nope.”  Tim slashed a hand through the air, cutting Dick off when he opened his mouth to speak.  “You know what?  I don’t have time for th-” Tim was cut off himself when his cell started ringing.  He covered his other ear as he brought his phone up to his opposite.
“Conner?”
“Hey, I know we all just got back, but anyone at the Manor heard from Jay?”  Tim winces at the worry he can hear in his best friend’s voice.  “I tried calling and I’m not getting any answer, and y’know how he feels about me listening for him.”
Tim nods even though he knows Conner can’t see him.  “Yeah, he hates it, but he’s gonna have to forgive you this time.  He and Dick got into it, and no one’s seen him in a week.  I’ll text the girls and see if they’ve heard from him, but I’d just start looking for him yourself if I was you.”
“Right.  I’ll text you when I find him.”
“Thanks, Kon.  I owe you.”  Tim hit end call button on his phone, and glared at Dick over his shoulder as he turned to head out of the kitchen.  “Don’t follow me.”
Conner glanced around the dimly lit street for what felt like the hundredth time as he landed lightly on the fire escape outside the window to Jason’s apartment.  It was mostly habit, what with Batman’s no metas in Gotham rule, that had the superman clone glancing over his shoulder.  Batman was currently out of country on a trip for WE, since Tim had been off-world dealing with Titan business.  So, he had no reason to worry about Captain Broodpants popping up and kicking him out of his city.
He unlocked the window, hitting the correct sequence to disable the alarm, and quickly slipped inside, closing the window quietly behind him.  Once he was inside the apartment, he took stock of his surroundings, trying to gauge what kind of mood Jason was in.  He winced when he saw the state of the living room alone.  Every pillow, couch cushion, and blanket were missing.  ‘Shit.  It’s been that kind of week.”
Conner walked through the living room, heading towards the room Jason usually holed himself up in when he had a bad day, or just wanted some quiet.  A quick glance in the two bedrooms showed the blankets and pillows missing from them as well, and the hall closet had been emptied.  The twin mattress was even missing from the spare room.
He came to a stop outside the room at the end of the hall, the one Jay usually used as an office. It had only two entry points, the door into the room, and the window out to the rooftop access ladder, that Jason had installed with Conner’s help. One entrance, and one exit.  A great set up for a quick escape should Jason need it.
He rarely used it, but liked having it as extra security on days he was feeling vulnerable.  Not that he would admit that was the reason to anyone, but Conner wasn’t stupid, and he knew his boyfriend’s tells.  Jason had told him once that he used to sleep in similar set up’s, when he was living on the streets, and when he first arrived at the Manor.  Would sleep in a narrow space with a quick way out the back end that an adult couldn’t get into, so he’d have a way to run if he needed.
Conner took a breath and knocked on the door, not even touching the handle until Jason acknowledged he was there.  While getting shot wouldn’t hurt him, Jason would feel bad once he realized what he’d done.  There was silence for several minutes, but before he could knock again, he heard Jason mumble at him to come in.  Conner frowned as he turned the handle, opening it slowly in case Jason changed his mind.  Jason’s voice sounded rougher than it normally was, and Conner wasn’t sure if it was from disuse or screaming.  Both thoughts made his heart hurt.  He carefully slipped into the room, taking in the mass of blankets and pillows that had been carefully arranged into a blanket fort.  The mattress was on the floor, the table Jason usually used as a desk was turned on its end, on the shorter end, blankets and sheets strung between it and the bookshelf full of Jason’s books, creating a cave of soft white and quiet blues.
Conner, picked his way across the contents of the desk that had been strewn across the floor, before sitting at the entrance to Jason’s current safe haven.  “Hey Jay.”  He pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his cheek against them, peering inside the fort.  He could make out Jason near the back, curled up as he was, knees to his chest.  He was dressed in sweats, bright blue, fuzzy socks, and what looked like one of Conner’s sweaters.  The sleeves were a few inches too short on Jason’s longer arms, but Conner recognized the colour, it was one of his older sweaters, soft and worn in.
Teal eyes lifted up from where Jason had them buried in his knees.  Conner frowned internally, at seeing how pale Jason was.  All the bats were pale, but Jason was almost sallow, sickly, telling how long Jason had been holed up in here.
“Y’gonna yell at me to?”
The rough, scratchy tone of Jason’s voice brings Conner out of his contemplation, and he gives his boyfriend his full attention.  “Of course not.  Why would I yell at you?”
“Seems t’be everyone’s favourite pastime lately.  Y’may as well join th’party.”
Conner shrugs, small smile on his face.  “I haven’t heard your side yet, just Dick’s from Tim, and I refuse to pass judgment until I have the whole story. Regardless -” He hurried to continue when he saw Jason open his mouth.  “When have I ever yelled at you over something like this?  Come on Jay, you know me better than that.”
Jason could only look at him, dumbstruck, eyes blinking rapidly, before he squeezed his eyes shut tight, burying his face back in his knees.
“Can I come in?”  Conner made sure to keep his voice level.  While he didn’t know what had set Jason off into this spiral of depression and self-loathing, he was determined to try and help anyway he could, even if that meant leaving the apartment.  It had happened before, and it wouldn’t be the first time, or the last.
It was several seconds of silent waiting until he saw Jason give the barest of nods, but the muttered ‘please’, had him carefully moving into the blanket structure, being mindful of where he put his hands and feet as he crawled in.
Jason sat close to the middle of his fort and Conner made sure Jason had a clear shot to one of the exits if he felt the need to leave quickly.  It had taken a lot of trial and error to get them to where they were now, and Conner was not going to mess up the trust that they had between to satisfy his need to wrap himself around Jason, to protect him from a world that tried to tear it down, just as much as he tried to build it up.
Conner sat behind Jason, both arms wrapping carefully around the others shoulder’s, letting his legs lay flat on either side of Jason’s still raised ones.  He rested his forehead against the back of Jason’s neck, and just breathed.  He did his best to match Jason’s rhythm, and then gradually helped Jason to take deeper, more even breaths, until, twenty minutes later, Jason relaxed against him.
Conner waited a few more minutes, giving Jason time to settle, before asking, “Did you want to talk about it?”
“Wha’s there t’talk about?  I screwed up, again. I -” he cut off with a hiss when Conner tightened his arms around Jason’s shoulders, nipping at the side of his throat.
Conner speaks into the warm skin of Jason's neck, making sure he hears and feels every word. “You didn’t break Bat’s rule, you didn’t screw up, and that wasn’t what I meant.”
Jason took a breath, body starting to shake as he thought back to what exactly had started him on this spiral.  He raised one of his hands, tangling it with one of Conner’s, squeezing as hard as he could.  Not for the first time, thankful that he couldn’t hurt the superman clone.  His other hand was rubbing the soft material of the borrowed sweater he was wearing, using the dual sensations to help ground himself.  Soft skin, tough as steel, and worn cotton, a comfort he had discovered in his early days at the Manor.
“My mom.”  Jason coughed, took a shuddering breath as he tried to gather the words.  “My mom died last week – not last last week, but at this time o’year.  Drug overdose.  I didn’ want t’go, I didn’ want to help N, knew I wasn’ in a good place, but he asked, an’...” he trailed off shrugging broad shoulders, turning slightly so he could tuck his head under Conner’s chin.
“He asked, and you didn’t want to disappoint him.”  He felt Jason nod against his neck.  Conner had lots of things he could have said to that, about how Dick should have realized something was up, since Jason rarely turned down a chance to take out drug dealers.  Even if Jay had been hiding it well up until after the bust, Dick should have noticed that something was up with his younger brother, once they made it back to the Cave.  He didn’t say any of those things now, though.  Jason knew them all already, but they wouldn’t do him any good to hear it now.
So, he said none of those things.  Instead he shifted so his chin was resting more firmly on Jason’s head, and turned the hand Jason was holding so he could bring it to his mouth, kissing the rough calloused palm gently.  “How about we get out of Gotham for a bit?”  He brought his legs up so he was bracketing Jason in, blocking out the world a bit more now.  It was a bit of an awkward position, since Jason had five inches on him and some bulk, but they’d been doing this kind of dance for several years, and they made it work.
Jason sunk down a bit in Conner’s hold, tucking himself more firmly against the clone’s chest.  “An’ go where, ‘xactly?”  He didn’t sound opposed to the idea, mostly just curious.
“Well I may have pulled a few strings before we left and got us some tickets to a performance of ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream.’ at the Globe Theatre, in about two days.”  He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking when Jason sat up straight, twisting around to look at him, teal eyes suspicious and wondering at the same time.
“Really?”
“Yeah really.”  Conner leaned forward and gave his boyfriend a quick kiss.  “You mentioned awhile ago that you wouldn’t mind going someday.”  He shrugged now, a little unsure of himself.  “So, I figured why not now?  It’s been awhile since we’ve gone anywhere, we’ve both been busy with Titan or Outlaw business, I think we’ve earned a vacation.”
Jason was silent for several moments, before he was twisting in Conner’s arms, going up on his knees, top of his head brushing the roof of the fort.  Conner let his arms drop from around Jason’s shoulder’s to his waist, raising a dark brow as his taller boyfriend was now looking down at him.
He sat still as Jason lifted his hands to cup Conner’s face, leaning down to give the man a proper kiss, one that Conner eagerly returned. Once they separated Jason kept his forehead resting against Conner’s, a small smile on his face that Conner couldn’t help kiss the corner of.  “I know I don’ say it enough, Kon, but thank you.”
Conner didn’t ask for what, he knew, so he cupped Jason’s jaw and pulled him in for another kiss.  “That mean we’re going to Jolly, old London then?”  Conner made sure to ask with the worst british accent he could muster, just to see Jason glare at him.
“Only if y’promise to never do tha’ again, Superclone.”
Conner laughed, squeezing Jason tight around the waist. “Deal.  Now come shower with me, I think I still have some alien gunk on my back that I can’t reach.”
Jason smirked down at him, flicking his nose with a finger, slipping out of the mass of blankets and pillows, when Conner grabbed the slightly stinging appendage.  “Knew y’only loved me for m’back washing skills.”
Conner watched as Jason crawled out of the tent of sheets and blankets, admiring the way Jason seemed to look graceful and predatory, no matter what he did.  “I can name several other reasons.”  Conner muttered just loud enough for Jason to hear.  Jason glanced over his shoulder, a look of disbelief on his face, before it slowly slid into a shy grin.  He didn’t say anything else as he exited the tent, standing straight, groaning in satisfaction when his spine popped and cracked.
Conner floated himself out of the tent, watching as Jason stretched out the kinks from being in a confined space for so long.  Jason froze when he saw Kon watching him, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t of been, before smiling softly again, turning back around and heading out of the room. “You comin'? Or ar'ya jus' gonna stare all day?”
“Oh I’m planning on doing both.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively even Jason shot him another glare.
“Not ‘ntil yer clean, Cloneboy.”
“Whatever you say, Jay.”
Conner smiled as Jason laughed. It still sounded rough around the edges, but the fact that he was laughing now, eased something Kon’s chest he hadn't realized was wound tight.  He fingered the little box that was in the pocket of his jeans, the soft feeling of the leather covered box easing him and making his heart hurt at the same time.  He had more than one reason for the trip, beyond getting Jason out of Gotham for a breather.  He was going to owe Tim his life ( Jason already owned his soul) for the interference he was going to have to run, but it was so going to be worth it.
32 notes · View notes
controloffandoms · 7 years ago
Text
Nightly Routine (Dick Grayson x reader)
Request: Can you do dick x reader where nightwing had a habit of always visiting reader whose his gf but she doesn't know it's him during patrol via a balcony or window or something to flirt and joke around and then one night he comes in badly injured and he goes to her bc he knows she'd help him and she helps patching him up and he forgets his in his uniform and makes a move, moving in and she responds and they start macking out but then they realise what's happening and she's thinking oh no he's ++ going to think I'm a cheater after they pull away and before he leaves she tells him to wait and confesses that she knew that it was him for a while now after she picked up it after seeing him visit and flirt she just figured it out and he's relieved and fluff 😚😊
Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader
Words: 1267
Warnings: mentions of Blockbuster beating Dick up.
Author’s Note: I read a lot of Dick Grayson x reader to get in the mood for writing this one. I’m sorry it took so long Anon! Also, tips for writing for any of the bats, listen to the batman soundtrack. It’s a great motivator
Tumblr media
The first time the vigilante of Bludhaven showed up at your window, you were surprised. Well, surprised was a bit of an understatement. Surprised would suggest that you were mildly shocked. Let’s just say that you were in major shock as you stared at the vigilante. Your boyfriend, Dick Grayson, was out with some friends and here you were thinking you were going to have a quiet night in.
“Are you going to invite me in,” he asked in a light tone.
“Are you going to explain why you’re here,” you replied in the same tone.
He chuckled before replying, “I will if you let me come in.”
You rolled your eyes slightly before opening your window fully. “So what brings the great Nightwing to my window at 1:30 in the morning,” you asked.
“It’s been a slow night and I saw your light on. Thought I would meet one of the people I protect,” he stated as he laid on the bed.
“While that is very sweet, my boyfriend would probably be a little angry with me for letting a stranger into our apartment and letting him lie on the bed,” you responded.
“I’m pretty sure your boyfriend would be okay with this. I’ve saved him a couple of times, actually,” he smirked.
“Right. Because this isn’t the slightest bit creepy.”
“Just like to make sure everyone’s safe.”
“So I guess you’ll be checking in on Miss Herron next,” you questioned innocently.
“Now you are taking it too far.”
Before I could respond, his watch beeped. He sighed as he read it then turned to me as he walked towards the window. “Sorry I have to cut this short. You should really go to bed. After all, it’s almost two in the morning.”
________________________________
It was the fifth night and it was nearing two o’clock in the morning. You were slightly worried about Nightwing, he usually popped up by now. Yes, it was weird, your boyfriend working late nights at the station so you look forward to talking with the masked man that has saved your city more times than you can count.
You hear a light rap on the window pane and turn to see Nightwing letting himself in. “Sorry I’m late, a bust went longer than I thought it would. But it is all worth it to see your beautiful face.”
You blushed before rolling your eyes. “I have a boyfriend, remember.”
“Oh I know. It was merely a compliment for a pretty girl. Nothing more. Unless you want it to be.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head. Sometimes you wondered why you looked forward to talking with the vigilante.
“I do not. I have an amazing boyfriend whom I love dearly.” You couldn’t help but admit that Nightwing did remind you of your boyfriend. Same colored hair. Same build. Sometimes their voices sounded the same. It didn’t help your skeptical mind that whenever Nightwing showed up, Dick was nowhere to be seen-
“Penny for your thoughts,” Nightwing asked as he sat on the open window seal.
You obviously couldn’t tell him your exact line of thinking. That might not go over well. “I was just thinking about how you remind me of my boyfriend. You’re just as flirty as he is and you make me feel the same amount of safe that I feel when I’m around him. Though that’s probably just because I know you as someone that saves people. I mean, I guess that’s why I like talking to you so much because I don’t get to see Dick as often as I would like and you maybe fill that void.”
You looked up to find Nightwing speechless. “Oh, God I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. I do enjoy talking to you and I promise I don’t always think of you like my boyfriend. I like the honest talks we can have before you get called away to save the city. I love listening to you talk about the crime you’ve stopped before showing up at my window. I’m not meaning to sound like I use you or something. Look, I really don’t want to mess this up. I really like your friendship and I just th-”
“Hey, you’re fine. I understand. Look, I’ve got a robbery in process, but I promise I’ll come back tomorrow.”
His voice, it was so gentle. Just like how Dick’s was whenever you were upset. You can’t deny that you watched Nightwing’s backside as he walked back to the window and left. You also can’t deny that his ass looks exactly like your boyfriend’s.
That’s when everything clicked together. Dick was Nightwing. Nightwing was Dick. Dick was out there putting himself on the line every night as Nightwing and still putting his life on the line as Dick Grayson, Police officer during the day. But why wouldn’t he tell you?
____________________________
Sometimes Nightwing would come to you after he’d battled a more experienced villain and ask you to help him stitch up the places he couldn’t reach. Day twenty-five was no different other than these were the worst injuries you’ve seen your boyfriend have. Yes, you’ve figured out Nightwing was Dick Grayson. You may or may not have snooped around the apartment one day to finally end your suspicions and found a red Nightwing suit. You guessed it was his backup if the blue one was too badly damaged.
You were stitching up his back and everything was quiet. “You want to tell me who you fought this time? Who was able to hurt you this much,” you whispered. You were willing the tears to go away. You didn’t want them to fall. You couldn’t let them fall.
Dick sighed before lowering his head. “Blockbuster. I had the choice to save a civilian or save myself. I saved the civilian and while I was distracted getting her out, Blockbuster used me as a punching bag.”
Your hands shook as you put the sewing needle down and started wrapping the gauze around Dick’s midsection. “You could have been killed,” your voice broke on the last word.
Dick turned around as quickly as he could, holding your wrists in his hands. “Hey, look. Look at me. I’m okay. Don’t cry, I promise I’m okay. I wouldn’t have let him kill me.”
“Well what about next time,” your voice rose. “You could get killed the next time. You have no control over that! Then what would you want me to do? Get over you? I can’t just-”
His lips were suddenly on yours. You didn’t hesitate to kiss back, salty tears mixing as they traveled down both of your faces. The only times you both separated was for a quick breath between the kisses. The familiarity of the kiss kept you going but soon Dick pulled away.
Then it hit you, you’d just kissed your boyfriend while he was Nighwing and he didn’t know you knew. He probably thought you were a cheater. Dick made his way to the window, “I’m sorry about that, I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’ll be going now.”
“Wait,Dick,” he froze as he slowly turned back around. “I know it’s you. You may be good at hiding your secret identity from everyone else, but I know you better than I know myself. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner that I knew. Just...don’t go. You’re hurt and need rest,” you whispered the last part, looking down to the ground.
“Thank God,” he muttered before lifting your chin up and kissing you passionately.
185 notes · View notes