Crow

"Pretty baby..." he murmurs to himself, gently moving the hair out of your eyes so he can see your adorable face. "Of course you'd be sleeping, hm?"

Then, oh so slowly, your eyes begin to blink open. Dick's heart aches with love at how sweet you look—all soft, pliant, eyes blinking innocently and blearily. He reaches a thumb up to softly wipe the little crusts from the corners of your eyes.

"Mmm...Dickie?" you frown drowsily, fists rubbing your eyes awake—fuck, Dick thinks. You're so adorable.

He smiles warmly. "Hi, love." His hand continues to stroke your hair back as you come to your surroundings. "Did you forget something?"

"...I don't think so," you mumble, leaning forward so your forehead rests against his warm, hard chest.

"Hmm," he hums, holding you close to his body. "What about a movie night with a certain special boy?"

He watches in real time as your eyes widen and your face falls. You look at Dick guiltily. "Oh, baby, I'm sorry! Oh, god, what time is it?" you panic, searching through the cushions for your phone.

"Honey, honey," he reaches gently for your wrist, chuckling. "It's okay, its still only 9:00. Are you sure you're up for movies, or do you wanna just shower and head to bed?"

You frown guiltily at your boyfriend. "But you spent money on food..."

"And we can eat it tomorrow," he assures you. "C'mon, my darling, let's go shower."

He scoops you up bridal-style, carrying you to the bathroom and turning on the shower with one arm.

Safe to say you end the night lathered in yummy-smelling lotion and enveloped in your favorite PJ set, Dick's arms holding you securely against his chest. Props to him for scrubbing down your body in the shower, drying and dressing you afterwards, and picking your favorite lotion out of many and rubbing it all over your body—anything to make his sleepy girl comfy.

jason todd:

To be fair, Jason shouldn't have rushed to your apartment and used the spare key you gave him to "break in." But in his defense, what else does a loving boyfriend do when he's called his girl 8 times, texted her 25 times, and left 3 voicemails without answer?

"Doll?" he calls out softly as the door clicks shut behind him. He looks around; all the curtains and blinds are shut, the thermostat is turned down—is anyone else chilly?—and all the lights are off.

"Jesus, baby, it's fucking cold," he mutters to himself, finding your thermostat and turning it up a bit. "Where are ya, hm?"

He spends the next few minutes searching for his baby, and finally, once he lets the bedroom door creak open, he finds you.

"Jay?" you call out groggily, hair a tangled mess, eyes puffy, lips swollen from slumber. "What're you doin'? Your boots are so loud—and you're dragging dirt all over my floors!"

He chuckles softly at your whining, raising his hands in surrender as he toes off his big combat boots, strolling (quietly) over to you in the bed. "What're you doing, baby doll?" he murmurs gently, sitting on the edge of the bed. Immediately your fingers seek out his, curling around his hand to interlock them.

You nuzzle into his big shoulder. Jason's big hand comes up to wipe a bit of dried drool off your face. "What do you mean, what am I doing?" you grumble against him. "I'm sleepin'."

"You're always sleeping," he teases, poking your cheek. He reaches for the brush in your nightstand drawer, turning your head away so he can begin detangling the messy locks.

You harumph, crossing your arms over your chest. "So what? You knew what you were signing up for. I only woke up because I felt my phone buzzing like the world was ending! And because your stupid boots are so loud!–"

"Yes, ma, I get it. You hate my boots. Now, hush, I'm trying to brush all this out."

You let him tend to your hair, calming down a bit once the crankiness from being woken up wears off.

"There," he murmurs, setting the brush down. His hands massage your shoulders gently, kissing the left one and moving his lips up your neck to your jaw.

You melt back against him. "I'm still sleepy...join me?"

"Of course, doll, anything for you," he whispers in your ear, kissing your lips softly before laying you both down. He removes his shirt, tucking you against his bare chest and tugging the duvet up over you. "Rest, my love."

bruce wayne:

"Damian, where's your mother?" Bruce asks the young boy. It's taken him forever to find his son, only for him to be outside with Bat-Cow.

Damian's eyes soften at the mention of his mother. "I've got no idea, father."

Bruce sighs in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That woman," he grumbles, going back inside.

"Grayson, where's my wife?" he asks Dick, who's sat the dining table alone, munching (rather loudly) on an apple.

Dick shrugs. "No idea, B. Last I saw her, she was with Jay upstairs. But Jay's out with Roy now, so I dunno."

"Jesus, none of my kids are useful," Bruce sighs, moving onto Tim and ignoring Dick's annoyed Hey!

"Where's mother?" Tim asks Bruce before he can ask.

"I...I was just about to ask you the same thing."

"Well, I think I finally got a lead on my case and want to talk to her about it."

"I can check it out."

"Well, it's me and her case, B. So I want her input."

Bruce groans. "Where is this woman?"

The last place Bruce checks is your shared bedroom, and he realizes suddenly that he should've checked here first. He knows his wife is a big napper...a big one.

"Oh, darling," he sighs, suddenly all gooey and tender as he approaches the big bed. All of the curtains have been shut, making the room entirely dark save for the light from the hallway. Your starfished in the middle of the bed, your eye mask pulled firmly on, blankets and pillows askew.

He stands by the bed for a moment, admiring your beautiful sleeping face, your soft body... After a bit he decides to crawl in beside you. Removing his shirt and socks, he lifts the blanket and slides in in only his pants.

You stir slightly at the feel of someone's big, beefy arms around your waist. And it could only be one person... "Bruce?"

"Hi, honey," he whispers, shushing you. "Shhh...go back to sleep."

You yawn, turning around in his arms to face him. "How long have I been out?"

"No idea, dear. I've been looking all over the manor for you."

You groan, lifting your eye mask off. "Oh, goodness, I wasn't supposed to sleep this long...oh! I was supposed to help Timmy with out case–"

"Stay. He says he's got a lead—he'll be fine. Let me hold you."

Happily, you tuck your head into Bruce's thick neck, sighing contentedly. "Oh, baby, I love you."

"I love you, too, my wife," he kisses your forehead with a tenderness nobody would expect from Batman. "Now rest."

damian wayne:

"She ditched us, Titus," Damian murmurs down to the Great Dane beside him. "Can you believe it?"

He pets the animal's head before standing, brushing the grass off his pants and making his way inside. He's instantly greeted by the sounds of Dick's giggles echoing through the manor, and Jason's annoyed grumbles.

"Dick, man, you're so odd," Jason groans, standing beside his elder brother, unimpressed. "Get your camera outta the poor girl's face—Dames's gonna kill you."

Dick scoffs, continuing to take pictures of your sleeping form from very unflattering angles. "He won't kill me. She's been a family friend of ours for lord knows how long. She's my friend, too!"

"What the hell are you doing to my girlfriend?" Damian scowls as he enters the sitting room. His sharp eyes soften minutely as they zero in on you. There you are, curled into a little ball in the armchair, buried in one of his t-shirts, a bit of drool dribbling from your lips.

The sudden tension in Dick's shoulders is palpable. "Hey, Dami," Dick murmurs sheepishly, quickly pocketing his phone. "You see, I was just showing her a funny TikTok I saw–"

"How? She is sleeping."

Jason snorts, glancing up at Damian. "He was taking photos of her."

Damian glares. "Why?"

"Cus it was funny, man!" Dick defends. "C'mon, she would've laughed! I'm gonna send them to her and watch, she'll crack up."

He rolls his eyes, not wasting any more of his precious attention on his brother. He moves, approaching your limp form and kneeling onto the carpet in front of you.

"Beloved?" he whispers, a hand coming up to cradle your soft cheek.

Immediately your body registers your boyfriend's touch, your head nudging into his palm like a lousy kitten. "Morning, Dami..."

"It is 5 in the afternoon, Habibti. Not morning."

"Oh." You peel open one eye, smiling when you see your sweet boy. "Well, hello anyways."

"Hello to you, too, sweetheart," he murmurs. "You are drooling."

You blush. "Where?" Your hands come up, feeling over your face for it.

"Do not fret, Habibti. I've got it." With a gentleness both Jason and Dick would not have expected from their youngest sibling, Damian lifts a wet thumb to your cheek, wiping away the dried spit that previously occupied the space. "There. My baby is all clean."

" 'My baby'?" Dick laughs, doubling over and clutching his torso as if this is the funniest spectacle. "My god, Dames, where has this side of you been hiding?"

He glares. "I have done nothing to make you laugh as hard as you are, Grayson," he snips, looking to Jason for support. Jason, however, is also stifling a laugh.

As if it couldn't get any worse, Damian then hears a small little giggle from the lovely lady behind him. His head whips around to face you. "You are a traitor."

"Dami, baby!" You giggle, smiling at the adorable little pout on his face. "You're just silly, is all. No need to get so defensive." You reach a hand up, brushing his dark locks out of his eyes.

He softens at the mere feel of your touch. In fact, a small smile tugs at his lips. "So sweet, beloved. Is it because you are sleepy?"

"I'm sleepy," you say, leaning closer. Your lips hover over his, your words whispered into his mouth. "And I'm craving one of my boyfriend's famous soufflés."

Damian frowns. "A soufflé? At this hour?" At your nod, he lets up. "Alright, Habibti. If my darling wants a breakfast for dinner, I suppose I can oblige."

You press a sweet kiss to his awaiting lips. "Yay! Thank you, Dami. You're so kind to me. Can I have bacon and cheese in it, please?"

"Very well, beloved," he murmurs. He begins to stand up, pressing a final kiss to your hairline as his hand smooths over the soft locks. "I love you."

"I love you too, honey."

Glaring daggers at his brothers and ignoring their teasing comments, Damian walks himself to the kitchen. He can hear Jason and Dick following, pestering him with mocking questions, though the lazy throw of his pocket knife juuust past their heads and into the wall shuts them up rather quickly.

tim drake:

Tim had gathered that you'd fallen asleep simply by checking the activity on your phone. Don't ask him why he's able to do that...

Quietly, he slips into your apartment through the window, tip-toeing his way to your bedroom. The door is wide open and he's immediately met with the sight of his lovely girl snuggling her teddy bear to sleep.

"Sweetheart..." he coos softly, removing his shoes and approaching the bed. "Hey."

He nudges your shoulder softly with his hand, making you finally stir. You gasp softly when you see a bleary figure standing in front of you. But simply by the shape of the human and the way it stands, you immediately gather that it's your boyfriend.

"Oh. Hi, Timmy."

"I told you to stop calling me that, but hi."

You smile, tossing the limp teddy over your shoulder and replacing it with Tim's torso. "Mmm... how'd you find me?"

"Your location," he lies. "Just didn't expect you to be asleep."

You only hum, rubbing your cheek against Tim's hard abs through his shirt. "Did you come to snuggle?" you coo, rubbing your eyes awake.

"You know it, baby," he replies. "Now let me in."

You pull the blanket up, expecting him to simply lay beside you. But of course, he's Tim Drake. Why would he do that?

Instead he barrels into you, sprawling himself out on top of you. He lifts your his t-shirt up and snuggles under it, resting against your bare skin.

Ahh...much better," he sighs contentedly, head nestled between your breasts. You feel him take a deep inhale, making you giggle.

"Tim!" You squeal, "what're you doing under there?”

"Needed to be close to you," he mumbles.

"Oh, baby," you chuckle softly, a hand coming up to play with whatever dark hair is peeking through the neckline of your his shirt. "You comfy?”

"So comfy." His words are muffled against your skin. You feel wet kisses begin to accumulate in the valley of your breasts. "Call me a good boy."

"Well, are you a good boy?”

He peeks through your neckhole, scowling. "Yes. I came to check up on my girl when I noticed she wasn't active on her device."

"Hm. So you did hack me?" you catch, smirking at him.

"I-...fine, yes. I did. I'm sorry for lying, mommy," he mutters.

"It's alright, sweet boy. You're mommy's good boy."

If Tim Drake had a tail, it'd be wagging. "Hell yes I am," he agrees enthusiastically. "Night, love you."

"Love you, too, needy boy."

It was meant to be a fun night out; one of your friends had been promoted. It meant she was getting a better wage and, more importantly, getting moved to a different department and far away from a very annoying coworker. It was clearly a matter of celebration, and your whole friend group had taken it very seriously.

Grabbing dinner at your favourite taco spot and getting the night started with a few rounds of margaritas had proved to be a great idea. You'd all reached the club a couple hours later with a buzz that had you crowding the dance floor and making the party much more lively that it had been before your arrival.

A few more rounds and even more songs had flown by and after a few hours, you'd found yourself slinking past the crowd and to the bar, almost begging for a fruity little cocktail that would help wash down the burning taste of the round of shots your friend had insisted on drinking.

You'd casually chatted with the bartender, offhandedly shrugging off the flirting attempts of a couple guys waiting for a drink beside you. The first sip had felt like heaven, the sweet and tart flavours washing off any of the bitterness the alcohol had left on your tongue.

That's probably when it happened, when the friend you were celebrating had joined you with a cheer and pulled you into a drunken hug. She'd asked about your drink, the vibrant colours of the mix making it appealing enough for her to call the bartender over to request one. It'd been just a moment, barely over a minute, that your drink had been unattended before you were both leaning on the counter and you were bringing the stripped straw back to your lips.

You'd been there for a bit, chatting and laughing about things that had happened earlier in the night. And then you'd felt it, the way your stomach seemed to churn and your eyelids grew heavy. You knew you weren't moving —in fact you'd managed to snatch a bar stool not long ago, needing some relief for your feet after standing for so long— and still it felt like everything around you was shifting, edges becoming liquid and sliding up and down your field of vision.

Your friend seemed to notice too, lightly waving her hand in front of your face and checking your level of awareness, the dizzy happiness you'd been feeling until moments ago dissipating as what had happened dawned on the both of you.

With a subtle movement you'd taken a quick look over shoulder, noticing that the guys you'd pretty much ignored a while ago were still there, lingering close, looking back at the both of you from time to time. The next thing you'd looked at was your drink, suddenly able to spot the fact that the ice cubes had fully sunken, barely responding to the swirl of the surrounding liquid when you spun your straw around.

Luckily your friend was moving before you could even think of what to do next, the dizziness fully settling now and making you feel like you were hearing the loud music from underwater. You'd barely caught onto what she was saying, even if she was yelling it over the club's noise. All you'd managed to catch was a mention of your boyfriend, the name of the place you were in and a hurried instruction to get there as soon as possible.

It was like you were skipping through time, because the next thing you remember is another one of your friends appearing beside you, looking as worried as the first one did. Between them, they'd managed to get you on your feet and walking towards the exit. A third person of your group walking past you and toward the spot you were in just moments ago, with two intimidating security guys following.

You blinked, or at least that's what you remembered, but suddenly you were outside and coming to when the voice of your boyfriend filtered through the noise that seeped from the club and through Blüdhaven's streets.

"You with me, baby?" Warm hands cup your cheeks, gently guiding your head to move side to side while he assessed your state. A dazed smile pulling at your lips when you realise it's Dick standing before you.

There's a light nod of your head, something he probably feels more than he sees. And then your eyes are closing and you let all your weight fall forward and onto his chest. A happy sigh leaving you as your hands clumsily cling onto the soft crewneck he's wearing.

His hands shoot out to grip your waist, arms wrapping around you to make sure you don't tumble to the floor. "Whoa, hey. Okay— Eyes open for me, baby. Have to know you're still here." All he gets in response is a nonsensical mumble, a slur of random words that leave your lips and onto the fabric covering his shoulder.

Another little sigh leaves you when one of his hands moves up your back and to cup your neck, gently tilting your head back until you're looking at him again. A loopy smile pulls at your lips, "hiii."

Despite the serious situation, he can't help the soft laugh that leaves him. Your eyes flutter closed again when he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your head. "Hi sunshine. How are you feeling?"

"Hmmm…." Your eyes crack open, blown-up pupils slowly dragging over his face while you mull over the question he's starting to think you've already forgotten. "Good," you settle on, "always good in your arms."

A little laugh leaves him again, and he gently pulls you closer, until he's got you gathered up in his arms. "Sweet-talker even in these conditions, hm?" Carrying you towards his car, he gives a thankful nod towards your friends, doing his best to ignore the fact that you're clingling onto him like koala.

The drive goes by criminally slow. The mix of whatever was dumped into your drink with the movement of the car triggers your nausea worse than the first hit of the drug had managed to. Dick has to pull over a few times, all of them helping you stay up and safely out of the splash zone while your body takes care of ridding itself of the toxin.

By the time you get home you're probably mostly clean of the substance. But whatever has been processed by your system, mixed with the alcohol and the exhaustion that only comes with being sick so many times in a row, has your head drooping down and your muscles feeling like an uncomfortably-sore putty.

"Come here," a small smile pulls at your lips even in your stupor, happy to melt into Dick's arms when he holds you again. "We're going to get you a nice, full cup of cold water. And you're going to drink all of it. After that, shower and comfy pj's— Nothing but rest tomorrow, too."

You just nod sluggishly to his words, sliding in and out of sleep while he lists off his instructions and walks the both of you to your shared apartment. Still, you comply with all of it — drinking not one, but two full cups, happy to lift your arms or legs when he tells you to, shrugging sweaty clothes off and finally relaxing on the warmth of the shower.

In what feels like no time —although you're sure it was way longer for Dick, who had to do all of it with pretty much no assistance from you— you're all warm and snug in bed, turned to your left side and close to the edge of the bed were your stomach to act up again.

A pitiful little whimper leaves you when you catch sight of your boyfriend slipping out of the room, barely processing the reassurance he calls out from the hallway before he's back. He sets another glass of cool water by your nightstand, along with something that should help the crazy hangover you're going to have come morning.

He's happy to hold the clingy hand you stretch from under the blankets, even if it makes his task of getting in bed more difficult. After solving a tangle of sheets and limbs, he manages to curl behind you, the warmth of his body seeping from his chest to your back when he holds you close.

"Not going anywhere, baby," he reassures one more time, pressing a soft kiss to your temple and then the curve of your neck. "Sleep now, I'll be here to make sure you're okay."

You're out barely seconds later, tired body slumped back against his while he gathers you even closer, curling himself so every part of his body fits with yours. As if having you this close will prevent anything else bad from ever happening to you again.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

You have no idea what time it is when you wake up, but it has to be late enough for the golden rays of sun to seep in through the curtains and, annoyingly enough, directly onto your face. A light grunt leaves you because of it, hand blindly reaching for a pillow to press your face into to avoid being blinded.

Another groan leaves you, rather offended this time, when Dick laughs behind you. It's soft and riddled with sleep, proving he hasn't been awake for much longer than you.

"Morning, sleepy head. How's my sunshine feeling?" You give into his touch when his arms wrap tighter around you, letting him turn you around and taking the chance to hide you face against his chest and away from the morning light.

"Hungover. Badly," you grumble, twisting a bit so you can tangle your legs with his under the sheets.

A light huff leaves him, and you feel the way his nose presses into your hair. The relaxed sigh that leaves him at the familiar scent of your shampoo. "Yeah, no wonder."

It's quiet for a bit, a comfortable, half-asleep kind. One of his hands lazily traces patterns along the length of your arm, while your fingers play with the loose thread on the hem of his sleep shirt.

"I'm sorry for last night," it comes out as a quiet murmur, something he can only hear because it's muttered against the crook of his neck. Your warm breath tingling over his skin with every word. "I shouldn't have taken my eyes off my drink, it was dumb of me and—"

Your words are cut off by the way he leans back, the hand tracing shapes on your skin moving to instead cup the back of your neck, guiding you to look at him. His expression is serious in the way Nightwing is, when he looks down at you. "Stop it. I don't want you to apologize— You shouldn't be apologizing. You have no fault of what happened, you should be able to have fun without having to watch your back."

It's dumb, because you know he's right and you never expected him to say anything else. But the reassurance hits somewhere deep in your chest, and before you can do something about it, tears are springing up in the corner of your eyes. You go to say something, anything. But only a choked little sob leaves you and in an instance you're back against his chest, tightly held in the comfort of his arms and cologne.

The weight that lifts off your chest at his words, one you hadn't realised was there, makes your whole body melt in his grip. It's pure relief, the factual knowledge that he doesn’t blame you, doesn’t hold what happened against you nor sees it as a failure on your part. Dick is just worried, thinking of your well-being and what to do to make you feel better, while simmering anger is pointed at the ones that did this to you. But not at you, never you.

"Shh, it's okay," barely over a whisper, he reassures you while peppering kisses to your forehead and temples. "I know it was scary. But you're safe, baby. I've got you. Always will."

⋆. 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𐙚˚ || 𓄹 ⊹ . 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 . 𐐒𐐚₊⋆｡˚

Likely tracking who knows how much dirt through your freshly cleaned carpet, you hear him awkwardly stumble his way down your hallway, past your slightly open bedroom door, and make his way towards the bathroom. Could be bad news.

Cool air creeps across your skin as you reluctantly shove your comforter back, blearily reaching up to rub your eyes and swinging your legs off the side of your mattress. You pause at the edge of your bed, listening. Blüdhaven was far from a quiet city; muffled music could be heard down the street, a dog barking a block or two away, and the constant shriek of sirens were an ever-present fixture in the familiar resonance of the city. What concerned you was the sickly silence coming from your tiny bathroom. Definitely bad news. 

Jamming your feet into your fluffy slippers, you lurch your way through the darkness towards the faint light at the end of the hallway. 

“Dick?” you call out croakily. “Are you okay in there?”

You hear the clatter of falling objects as you approach.

“Uh. Yeah. Everything's great! Get back to bed. I’ll be there in a minute.” His voice was airy and high with something latent. “Or, like, maybe five minutes–”

“Dick!” you shriek before clapping your hands over your mouth, remembering your neighbors were probably sleeping. Like you should be.

Dick sat on the tile floor, digging in the cabinet under your sink for the first aid kit. This meant that the first thing you saw, unfortunately, was his back. His suit had been ripped to reveal a nasty gash between his shoulder blades. Though not so horrific by itself, the sheer amount of blood covering the area shocked you. 

“Ohmygod–”

“Please don’t freak out babe–”

“What the hell?” you whisper-yell. You join him on the ground, quickly shuffling closer.

Subtly angling his back away from you, Dick looks at your face, offering an awkward, dimpled grin. “It’s fine. Everything's fine.”

“You’re covered in blood.” you hiss. “You’re actively bleeding out, asshole.”

“It’s fine! Not all of it’s mine anyway. I’m healthy as a horse.” He rolls his shoulders back in an attempt to prove it to you, but he immediately winces as he lets out a weak ‘neigh’. 

Sighing, you snatch the first aid kit out of his hands. “Turn around. Did you really think you could fix this up yourself?” Your shoulders sag. Then you add gently: “Let me help you.”

Slowly, he turns his back towards you again, grinning. “There’s a cloth in there. If you just clean the blood away, you’ll feel better. Probably don’t even have to stitch me up. Did we run out of those butterfly bandages?”

You dig around in the box a bit. “No, looks like we still have… more than enough probably. But next time you’re out, stop by the drug store instead of getting beat up.” You pull out a cloth and reach up to the sink to wet it. “You didn’t want to take a shower first?”

“Thought I might wait for you to join me.” Though you can’t see his face, you can still feel his wink and the wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Ha-ha. Not happening, pal.” You begin wiping the blood away, a muscle twitching on his back as the cold cloth makes contact with his bronze skin. There’s a moment's lull in the conversation as both of you take a quiet moment to listen to each other's breath.

“I have to go back out.” Dick hears your sharp inhale. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, Dick. I know what you do is important to you. And what’s important to you is important to me too.”

“But…” he prompts.

“But I’m worried about you. I know you can handle the things that are thrown your way, but I just can’t help being uneasy. I don’t like seeing you get hurt.” Your cloth-bearing hand falls to your lap as you’ve finished cleaning the majority of the blood away, revealing the cut to you. It doesn’t look as deep or as intimidating to fix as it did before, but it made your shoulders sag nonetheless. 

He turns towards you slightly, saying your name. “I don’t like seeing you upset. So how about for the rest of the night, I try not to get hurt?”

“That sounds good to me.” you reply, rummaging in the kit for the butterfly bandages. “What about your suit? Can’t have you going out with a giant rip in the back.”

“I’ll put on a spare once the pretty doctor’s done fixing me up. If you’d have given me a minute, I could’ve taken this one off for you.” The playful tone to his voice returned, easing your anxiety slightly. If something terrible was happening, he would be much more serious. His upbeat attitude meant he would make it back home this morning.

You spend a few minutes in comfortable silence as you stick the bandages onto the injury one by one. When you finish, you plant a gentle kiss to a patch of exposed skin above the cut and rest a hand on his shoulder. Dick reaches for your hand and kisses the back of it. Then he turns, pressing a kiss to your lips; quick but full of intention, like the seal to the promise he made you.

“You should go get changed now.” You whisper.

“You should go back to bed.”

He gets up off the cold tiles first with a groan and a stretch, before reaching down to help you up. You didn’t realize until now how much the hard floor caused your legs to ache. The two of you make your way down the hall, hand in hand. Entering your bedroom, Dick turns on a small, dim lamp as you kick off your slippers and plop down on the bed. Quickly stripping and throwing the worn suit to the side, he reaches towards the closet to pull out a fresh one. 

“Good thing we got extras, huh?” Dick jests.

You hum sleepily in response. 

He slips into the fresh suit as your eyelids start to droop. Making his way over to you, he kisses your forehead tenderly. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” You reach for his cheek, rubbing it with your thumb.

“Goodnight.” On his way out, he turns off the lamp, leaving you in darkness. You hear him make his way down the hall towards the living room again. He grabs his abandoned escrima sticks before making his way back out the window, shutting it firmly behind him.

divider creds: @/portdividers @/dxstoeskyvjbess

Dick curls his arm around your waist, pulling you in impossibly closer. The world slowly disappears around the two of you, his other hand skimming across your waist, thumb brushing against your exposed back. He can’t remember how his hand got there – only that it is, and that it feels right.

Did he tell you he really liked your makeup? Well, whatever, it doesn’t matter now – but he thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen – you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

You tug on his necklace again. ‘I’ll be really good. I promise.’ 

Your noses brush together. His heart races in his chest. 

‘You promise?’ He can hear himself, voice low and rough. ‘You’ll be good for me?’ 

You nod before he even finishes his question, a smile on your soft lips. ‘Yeah. So come and find out if it’s vanilla, won’t you?’

Your lips are closer than ever, already hovering over his. He can feel your grip tightening on his necklace, your other hand cupping his jaw, the ghost of your touch against his skin right now, your breath on his lips. 

Dick leans in, closer, closer, closer–

He presses his lips lightly against yours, pulling your chest flush against his. You moan into the kiss, hands flying up to tangle themselves in his hair, pulling him deeper in.  

Fuck, he could do this forever–whatever it would take to hear that pretty sound come out of your mouth again.

You tug on the hairs at the base of his neck, opening your mouth as he kisses you deeper, harder, tongue brushing against yours. 

The bell on your bracelet rings by his ear when you pull lightly at his messy black hair, soft and sweet, echoing in his chest. 

Your lip gloss does taste like vanilla. 

He’s so glad he was right. He could feel the slick gloss smearing across his lips, his chin, marking him as yours. His hand reaches up to tilt your jaw as he slips his tongue into your mouth. 

You whine at his touch, shuffling on his lap. He swallows it with pleasure, his lips crashing back against yours after pulling apart for a breath, like he couldn’t bear to be apart for any longer than he needed to. 

His name tumbles from your lips like a prayer, like the only word that you’ve ever known, in that voice that he dreams about. 

Dick breaks away slightly and you protest, a little noise escaping your mouth. You shake your head, chasing after him, your lips swollen and gloss messily smeared all across your chin. 

Well, who was he to deny you? 

He meets you again, mumbling against your lips, swallowing every little sound you make. “Fuck, I could–” Dick moans when you suck gently at his lower lip, biting softly. “I’ve been wanting this for so long– oh, shit– baby, I–” His hands wander across your back, settling on your hips before squeezing. 

“Baby, I–” Dick throws his head back when you press your lips against his cheek before kissing down his neck, sucking softly. “Fuck– baby, I love this, I love–”

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP 

Dick jolts awake, his heart racing in his chest. He stares at the white ceiling above him while his incessant alarm clock continues to blare loudly in his room. 

The early morning rays of the sun shine across his face, a gentle breeze filtering through the window, flirting with his white curtains. He groans, smacking his alarm clock and the room is filled with silence once more. 

He can still feel the ghost of his dream on his lips, the taste of vanilla on his tongue. 

Dick sighs, turning over to bury himself in his pillow and not for the first time since he’s met you, he thinks about a big stuffed rabbit plushie and wonders if it’s as soft as it looks.

x.

You’re avoiding him.

Dick’s jaw muscle ticks upwards once, forcing himself to keep his eyes trained on the blank document opened on his laptop screen. You sit on the other side of the table they’ve all gathered at in the Kane Memorial Library, situated as far away as possible. 

You type away on your laptop, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, nails clacking away on your little butterfly keyboard as you work on the literature review of your dissertation. Donna leans over from where she’s sitting next to you, pointing at something on the screen and you laugh sheepishly, pushing her hand away. 

He forces himself to type his name on his paper, a tiny semblance of being an actual, hardworking student, ignoring the empty seat beside him.

You usually sit next to him – almost always, your body angled slightly towards him as he pulled your legs over his thigh, your foot hooking onto his calf, resting your chin on his shoulder as you both scrolled through his phone together. 

Dick glances up from his laptop, meeting your eyes from over the rim of his laptop. Your eyes widen, like you weren’t expecting him to look back before you smile, soft and polite, and return your attention back to your laptop. 

Okay, so you were definitely avoiding him on purpose. 

Wally clears his throat from next to Dick, reaching for his blue water bottle. “Can I have some? I forgot mine and I’m not paying $2 for a plastic one.”

“Yeah!” Dick looks up at the sound of your voice, a smile on your face as you look at Wally, “Save the dinosaurs–I mean turtles, sorry.”

“That’s for straws, gorgeous.” Roy gently corrects you and you roll your eyes, sticking your tongue out at him. 

Dick just nods, flexing his jaw again as Wally takes the bottle from where it’s sitting next to his silver laptop. His eyes flit back over to where you sit, but you’ve already turned your attention away, laughing at a tiktok Donna sent you. 

(look at me, look at me, look at me)

Wally sets the water bottle down, the metal clanging lightly against the table. Dick glances over, rolling his eyes when his best friend grins at him sheepishly. 

“You drank all of it, didn’t you?”

Wally holds his hands up in surrender. “So I was thirsty, sue me.”

Dick shakes his head, a smile on his lips. “You know what–” He stands up, the chair scraping behind him as he grabs his water bottle. “One of these days, I might just do it.” 

Wally lets out a noise of protest.

Dick glances around the table before his blue eyes settle on the crown of your head. “I’m going to go refill my bottle. Does anyone want anything?” 

Kori looks up briefly from her phone before shaking her head. Roy slides his own yellow water bottle across the table, the metal bottle teetering dangerously close to the edge before Dick slides his slim fingers through the handle, the two metal bottles clanking against each other. 

Donna shakes her head and Wally leans back in his seat, grinning. “Maybe a water bottle for me?”

Dick shakes his head, gently tapping his water bottle onto Wally’s forehead. “I’m not spending $2 on you either, so you and I are just going to continue sharing spit and you’ll like it.”

Dick looks up when you let out a little laugh, your hand covering your mouth. You rock your body into Kori sitting next to you, shoulders shaking. His shoulders loosen, his own lips stretching to match the one you were hiding behind the palm of your hand, and for a brief second, he wished you’d let him see it.

Kori looks over at you, your laughter contagious. “His joke wasn’t even that funny.” She teases, gently nudging you with her shoulder and you shake your head, sucking in a breath. “It was so gross–” You let out another peal of laughter, each sound intertwining with your words. “I wasn’t expecting it–”

Ah, Dick’s hand tightens around the water bottle straps before it loosens, the two metal bottles hitting his thigh. Your laugh was so pretty. 

You straighten, clearing your throat but the remnants of your smile still remain. “Okay!” You do your best to avoid looking at Kori, “I’m good now, wait–” You can’t help yourself, sneaking a peek and immediately dissolving into a fit of giggles again. “Kori! Don’t look at me!”

You hold your hand up, pointedly blocking your vision from her as you meet eyes with Dick. He blinks, a soft smile on his face. 

Come back to me, he wants to say – but he doesn’t.

You hold his gaze for a brief moment before the unguarded smile on your face drops into something politer, distant and your attention disappears back into your laptop.

His own smile twitches. 

He clears his throat, walking around the table towards the water fountain. You don’t look up once. 

Dick ignores the way Wally’s eyes bore into the back of his neck, pausing by you. Kori glances up, an eyebrow raised but doesn’t say anything. Her fingers remain motionless from where she’s scrolling on her phone. 

Dick bends down, careful not to get too close, careful, careful, care–

Orange blossoms and white peaches. 

He swallows, his heart jumping into his throat. You glance up over your shoulder, turning to face him, leaning away slightly. 

“I can refill your water bottle too.” Dick gestures to your pale pink water bottle. His heart thumps against his ribs, painfully loud and he swears you can hear it judging by the way your gaze drops to his chain dangling off his neck, the ring pendant swaying in front of your face. His voice slips into a whisper, meant for your ears only. “It’s not a problem.” 

You pull your gaze back up into his blue eyes. 

A beat. 

You shake your head, turning back to your laptop. “I’m okay, thank you though.”

Dick’s face burns. He straightens, nodding. “Okay.” His mouth has never felt so dry before. “Sounds good.” he stands behind you, frozen for half a second before he’s jerking his limbs away from you, his hands feeling empty despite the two water bottles dangling from his fingers. 

He forces himself to take slow steps, half-expecting, fully wishing that you’d change your mind and loop your arm through his like you always do, chattering excitedly about whatever you had been thinking about.

He knows better than that though. 

He turns towards the water fountain before he can spiral. This side of the library is quieter, cooler, the fluorescent lights humming above him. The whir of a printer sounds next to him, papers sliding out of it before landing in a neat little pile on the paper tray.

Dick stares at the ever-growing stack of papers for a moment. Whoever was printing all those pages must be going through a rough spot. 

He finally tears his eyes away from the never ending whir of the printer, setting Roy’s bottle down on one corner of the water fountain before unscrewing the cap of his own with hands that haven’t quite yet steadied. 

The water stream begins immediately when he pushes the bottle against the sensor, filling his bottle to the top. 

Dick watches the water rise, hoping the sound of running water would drown out the thoughts in his head, but they never do. You think he would have learned by now.

He screws his water bottle cap back on, swapping his for Roy’s yellow one. 

I’m okay, thank you though.

He grimaces slightly, rubbing his hand over his face. Even when you were pushing him away, you were still nice. Dick sighs, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he watches the water bottle slowly fill. 

Someone laughs nearby. 

His head jerks up before he even knows it, his shoulders turned towards the sound — and then he realizes he knows this laugh. 

You’re standing a few feet away, hugging a girl that Dick vaguely recognizes — your freshman year roommate? Something like that, he can’t quite tell — your arms wrapped around her, tight and snug. 

He blinks. 

The early afternoon sun rises through the skylight window, its soft golden light falling over you, bathing you in a warm glow, the rest of the world disappearing around you.

The sound of water overflowing over forces him to look away, his eyes widening as water spills out from over the rim of Roy’s bottle. “Shit.” He hurriedly grabs the bottle, hands fumbling as he spills the excess. The water sloshes out from the water fountain, little droplets splashing onto his shirt and he curses again. 

He glances over towards you, but you haven’t noticed him, still smiling the same smile he’s carved into his memory, still glowing under the sun’s spotlight, still every bit pretty he remembered. 

Bits and pieces of your conversation float through the quiet hallway, reaching Dick’s ears and his cheeks burn. He shouldn’t be listening to this, he shouldn’t even be standing here anymore—

“So, what about you and that guy? Dick? You guys looked really cute at the party!”

He forces himself to stay very, very, still. His ears strain to hear you over the pounding of his heartbeat. 

You let out a small laugh. “No, we’re just friends.”

“What?” Your friend sounds shocked. “But he looked like he really liked you. I saw you guys on the couch, you know. Looked real cozy.”

“No. He was just being nice.” You give her a rueful smile. “It was just a mistake on my end.”

Dick feels like he’s been rooted to the floor, every limb locked. 

He looks towards you helplessly, mouth opening and closing. 

“But…” your friend looks over at you, her voice lowering slightly. “You really liked him, didn’t you?”

You shift your weight — Dick can hear the soft scuff of your Onitsukas on the library linoleum floors. “Yeah.” You finally answer quietly. “But it’s okay. It’s not his fault, you know?”

You shrug, lifting your face towards the sun as you stretch. “I was getting in over my head. You know me, always rushing in before I’m sure.”

Something in Dick’s chest gives.

Your friend gives you a small laugh, reaching over to pull you into a hug and the two of you turn around the corner.

Dick stares at the two full water bottles, water droplets sliding down the metal slowly, his throat tight. 

He glances over to where you once stood before grabbing the water bottles in one hand, the two metal bottles clanging noisily against each other and turning abruptly on his heels. 

It’s more of an instinct rather than a proper decision.

“Hey— Wait— [Name].” Dick jogs over, his heart beating against his chest. You glance behind your shoulder, pausing when you catch sight of him. “Dick?”

He swallows. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

You slow down, your arm still looped around your friend, who gives Dick a sly smile. 

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

Your friend gives Dick a once-over before her jaw drops in a small ‘o’ in understanding. She turns towards you, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Hey, I’ll catch you later. Text me okay?” She untangles her arm from yours, squeezing your hand. “I mean it, text me as soon as you guys are done talking.”

She glances back at Dick, his ears a bright red before looking back at you. “Seriously. As soon as you guys are done.”

She pressed a kiss to your cheek before she lets go, giving Dick a pair of thumbs up behind your shoulder. 

‘Good luck’, she mouths. 

Dick pretends not to have noticed. 

“What’s up?” You smile, tilting your head to the side. “Did you need my help carrying—“ you glance down at the two water bottles hanging by his side, “— the two water bottles?” You let out a small laugh. “I thought you went to the gym? What’s all those muscles for?”

Dick shakes his head, tightening his grip on the water bottle handles. “No— I just…” he shakes his head, forcing himself to stare into your eyes. “Can we not— joke for a second?”

You stare at him, your smile faltering. “Um, yeah, sure.” You walk towards a row of books when the librarian stares at you pointedly. “Am I in trouble or something?”

He gives you a small smile, the corners of it barely reaching his eyes. “No.” Dick shakes his head, “You’re not in trouble at all. I just–” He inhales deeply, shutting his eyes for a moment. 

“I overheard you talking with your friend.” 

Your eyes widen, the smile wiping off your face instantly. “What?”

“Sorry.” Dick’s eyes fly open immediately at the tremble in your voice. “Sorry, I wasn’t eavesdropping, I swear. I was just filling the bottles like I said and I happened to overhear it.” 

He runs his hands through his hair, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I just want– no, I need to tell you–”

Dick looks at you, blue eyes wide and earnest. “Us. Whatever you’ve been feeling, whatever we were before – you, me, us — none of it was imagined. You weren’t reading into things. You weren’t wrong.” 

You look away, crossing your arms over your chest. “Dick, you really don’t have to–”

“No.” He cuts you off firmly. “I do.” 

You watch him, watching his jaw work itself as he struggles to come up with the right words. Your fingers tighten around your arm, the back of your neck burning as he inhales, mouth half open like he’s ready to speak before he closes it again. 

“I’m not good at this… stuff.” Dick gestures vaguely between the both of you, your one eyebrow raised. “I kept thinking about the right words to say, picking the right moment and I–” 

He huffs a breath, hanging his head. “Turns out I just kept saying nothing.”

Dick closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I should have kissed you that night.” His voice is soft, almost drowned out by the sounds of students milling about the library shelves, but you hear it all the same.

Your face burns. Your heart threatens to beat straight out of your chest.

Dick’s eyes are so blue when he opens them again, shining under the fluorescent library lights. The metal bottles brush against his thigh, a dull ‘thud’ against his black sweatpants. 

“I should have kissed you, you don’t know how much I wanted to.” He looks at you helplessly, tracing over the curve of your lips and the soft skin of your cheeks. “You don’t— you don’t know how much I regret it, how much I wanted it, how I went home and dreamt about that exact moment and actually kissed you instead of being the coward I was.” 

“So why didn’t you?” You force the words out, a whisper more than a question.

Dick pauses his ramble, staring at you for a moment. His chest rises and falls heavily before he swallows. 

“I was scared.” He admits, tightening his grip on the water bottles slowly slipping out of his sweaty fingers. 

“I am terrified of how much I want you.” Dick whispers. He looks away towards the broken spines of paperback books behind you, staring unseeingly at the titles written in gold and black ink. 

“I want you so much, it makes me think I’m crazy.” He lets out a small chuckle at himself. “When I want something, I can’t let myself have only a little bit.” 

He pauses. 

“And I didn’t want to pull you into something unless I was sure of it.”

He finally forces his gaze back to you, ignoring the rapid beating of his heart. “It wasn’t fair to you. And I’m sorry.”

You look at him, flexing your fingers around your bicep. “And?” You stare at him imploringly, taking a tiny step closer. The space between the two of you vanishes, leaving nothing but the heat between your bodies. 

“Are you sure yet?” 

Dick nods. He raises his hand, placing it on the shelf above you, fingers gripping the ledge. “I’m sure.”

You take another small step forward, your arms unfolding from your chest. Dick holds his breath as he watches your hand reach forward, hesitating once before your finger hooks itself into his chain dangling from his shirt, the ring pendant swaying back and forth. 

His blue water bottle slips from his fingers, dropping noisily onto the ground but Dick couldn’t care less. 

You tilt your head up slightly, noses brushing. His nails scrape the shelf, grooves appearing in the old wood. 

“Sure enough to kiss me now?” You whisper, your finger pulling him in by the chain.

“Yeah.” Dick swallows, his eyes darting down to the plush of your lips before returning to your half-lidded gaze. 

You cock your head to the side, lips parted, waiting. Dick swallows, the blood rushing to his ears loud and hard, every nerve in his body extremely aware of the closing distance between his lips and yours. 

He waits for a heartbeat, pulse pounding dully in his ears before pressing his lips onto yours, soft and slow, warm and barely there at all. 

He was right, it does taste like vanilla. 

x.

Wally looks up from his phone when Dick appears at the table, sliding Roy’s bottle back to him before taking his seat. 

He sits up. 

You appear a moment later, catching Wally’s gaze and blowing a kiss his way before sitting down, digging through your bag. 

Wally glances over at Dick, the black haired boy typing away on his laptop, shoulders relaxed. He doesn’t look up once. 

Wally looks back over to you. You stare deeply into the laptop camera, mouth parted as you fix your lip gloss, the shimmering liquid catching underneath the library fluorescent lights. Roy says something that makes you laugh, holding out the lip gloss wand towards him and he pretends to pucker his lips before winking and returning back to his work. 

Something in Wally’s brain clicks. 

He takes another look at Dick, his eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought. Dick finally glances up at him, his skin prickling underneath the intense gaze. 

“What?” Dick stretches his neck, the joints popping like a glow stick. “What is it?”  

The library lights catch on Dick’s face, exposing the tiniest bit of glitter on his bottom lip. Wally tilts his head, his eyes flickering back to where you were applying the finishing touches to your lip for the briefest of moments before back to Dick.

“Nothing.” Wally finally answers, resting his chin on his palm. “You just look… different.”

“Maybe because you’ve been staring at me with no explanation.” Dick snorts, looking back at his laptop screen. 

Wally hums. “No, you seem a little more relaxed.” His eyes bounce back from Dick to you again. 

You tuck your lip gloss into your bag, sweeping your hair behind your ears. You don’t look across the table until Wally clears his throat lightly, locking his green eyes onto yours.

You tilt your head. Wally shakes his head and smiles knowingly before leaning towards Dick, chin resting on his shoulder. 

Dick glances down, an eyebrow raised as Wally opens his mouth, words barely audible over the soft shuffling of papers and keyboards clicking in the library. His entire body stills when Wally’s words finally register, Dick’s hand instinctively reaching towards his mouth to tap on his bottom lip. 

“You uh,” Wally suppresses his grin. “You got something on your mouth, man."

a/n: ok i really will put on a bit of a disappearance act now (I feel like im just constantly lying lmao) bc i need to really think out the next few chapters but anyway!!!

“jason.”

“i know,” he mumbles into your stomach. he doesn’t sound like he knows.

“hey.” you tug his hair gently until he tips his face up, and there it is, the raw lost look he saves for no one, or maybe just for you. “there’s nothing to be jealous of. there’s nothing. you know that right?”

his jaw works. “i’m not jealous.”

“okay,” you say, very gently. “you know that right?”

something in his face crumples just slightly. he nods once, small, and turns his face back into your stomach and you let him, hands moving soft through his hair until you feel the tension leaving him piece by piece.

you kiss him after, slow and sure, and he makes a sound against your mouth that breaks your heart a little. it’s a mix of desperate and relieved all at once, hands sliding from your thighs to your waist and pulling you in like he’s been thinking about it all night. which he has.

you ease him back onto the bed and he goes willingly, taking you with him, hands restless and a little clumsy in a way he never is otherwise, touching you everywhere like he needs to remind himself you’re here and you’re his even if neither of you have said that out loud yet. when you finally sink down onto him he goes completely still, breath punching out, eyes finding yours in the dark and staying there. you move slow and he lets you set the pace, jaw loose, one hand spread warm at your hip and the other coming up to touch your face like he can’t help it. “you’re so pretty,” he says, barely a breath, not really to you, more like something he’s telling himself. you smile softly, your cheeks turned a smidge darker from his compliment.

you take care of him until he’s got nothing left to be sad or jealous about, until he’s spread out underneath you with his eyes glassy and his chest heaving and that tight jaw finally, finally loose. and when it’s over he pulls you down against his chest and locks both arms around you and says nothing, just holds on with the quiet desperation of someone who doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants and is so relieved you already knew.

“i really wasn’t jealous,” he says eventually, into your hair.

“i know,” you say.

a pause.

“he wasn’t even that good looking.”

“jason.”

“just saying.”

Dick Grayson:

Dick erupts into laughter before his lips have even touched yours, throwing his head back. His tanned throat bobs with the sound, bare skin slightly glistening from the sunscreen he’d put on earlier.

“See?” He shakes his head, “I can’t even get close to you without you getting all flustered.”

You only frown, shoving him away from you. In any other situation, you’d be fine. It’s just Dick, after all. But it’s being here—outside the pool, in the sweltering heat, Dick shirtless and shiny and tanned and looking at you like he wants to eat you alive—that’s killing you.

“Am not.”

“We’re lying now, are we?”

You roll your eyes, sitting back down on your chair and taking a big sip of water to quench the heat in your veins. “It’s hot out here. That’s all.”

“It’s boiling,” Jason agrees, finally returning with the pile of towels he said he’d get ages ago.

You look at him, his own muscled chest and big arms, and then back to Dick. You rise to your feet slowly and Dick’s head snaps up, gears turning behind his eyes. He knows what’s about to happen just as much as you do.

“Hey, Jason.”

“Hm?”

Dick steps forwards. You inch closer to his brother. Jason looks at you in confusion, then glances at Dick behind you, and smirks.

You rub a gentle hand up his bicep and Jason suddenly pulls you in, eyes locked with Dick’s over your shoulder. You latch your fingers behind his neck and pull him down to you, lips moving against his in a perfect rhythm. The taste of the watermelon he’d been eating and the remnants of his protein shake this morning flood your mouth.

You make a big show of pulling away, unfurling yourself from Jason and turning around to face Dick who looks like he’s about ready to kill the both of you.

“See?” You gesture to your face, “not flustered.”

“Not funny,” Dick says.

Jason laughs behind you.

Wally West:

Wally’s grinning ear to ear when he pulls away from you, the freckles on his cheeks dusted in pink. His hand still rests on the small of your back, his other palm laying idly on the side of your arm.

You take a deep breath, eyes still shut as your mind runs circles around itself to keep up with what just happened. Wally kissed you. Wally kissed you. You blink.

He cocks his head to the side. “Did I get you all hot and bothered?” 

“No.” Yes.

“Mhm, whatever you say, sweetheart.”

The nickname sends tingles down your spine, the heat that was already rushing through your body growing tenfold. You press a hand to his chest, the two of you still close enough together that your lips could touch again, before pushing yourself off of him.

“In your dreams, West.” You stumble over your own feet, your cool entrance looking less and less suave by the minute. “I don’t get hot and bothered.”

“What about being hot and bothered?”

It’s just your luck that Roy Harper has to stumble into the room, still glistening with sweat from his workout, thick arms poking out through his tanktop. He grins goofily, eyes flicking between you and Wally to make sense of the situation.

“You know what?” You say, taking a step towards Roy.

Wally sees the mischief in your eyes, swallows hard at the way you’ve started grinning.

“I’ll prove it to you.”

And before either man can say anything, you’re grabbing Roy by the front of his shirt and tugging him into you, smashing your lips on his. He tastes like the pineapple electrolytes he keeps in his water bottle, an aftertaste of smoke and cedar resting on your tongue.

You pull away, immediately looking over your shoulder to face the other redhead. Wally’s frowning, jealousy twisting in his gut like a knife. He crosses his arms over his chest, his own biceps flexing.

“What was that for?” Roy breathes, all rosy cheeks and a breathless grin.

“To prove a point.”

Without saying anything else, you detach yourself from Roy and head to the door, satisfied at having proved your point.

“I’m better!” Wally shouts, “come back here and I’ll show you!”

Roy just stands there, still stunned. “What the hell just happened?”

Bruce Wayne:

Bruce is more than satisfied with himself when he pulls away from you, his taut grip loosening. He straightens himself up, adjusting his cowl back on his head.

“That distracted you,” he notes.

You shake your head but it’s clear from the way he’s looking at you, he doesn’t believe it for a second. You’re all swollen lips and warmth and breathlessness, and Bruce is a picture of perfect composure. It’s embarrassing, really.

“I’m not distracted.”

He fiddles with the gloves of his costume, the darkness of the Batcave hiding what it is exactly he’s messing with. “This is what I was talking about. It’s a liability.”

“It’s nothing,” you snap, adjusting your own costume. “Kissing isn’t a liability for me.”

He stays quiet but you see it on his lips, the slight disapproving frown beneath his mask. 

There’s a loud sigh behind you, marking Clark’s arrival. “And here I thought you two were finally getting along.”

The idea comes to your mind before the taller man is even done speaking. Clark is perfect for what you need him for, a pallet cleanser to wash away the intensity that is Bruce.

“Clark?” You ask.

He tilts his head to the side, smiling warmly. “What?”

“Don’t.” Bruce warns.

You ignore him anyway, stepping up to the Kryptonian and snaking your arms around his shoulders before tugging him down to your level. You smash your lips against his, beckoning him in closer with your arms, absorbing his taste. He’s sweet and stable and moves against you carefully, like he’s not quite sure he should be doing this.

You pull away, suppressing a laugh when you see Clark’s flushed cheeks and goofy smile. Turning to face Bruce, you gesture to yourself for emphasis.

“See? No liability.”

Bruce only scowls.

John Constantine:

“Your heart’s racing,” John mumbles, lips hovering just above your ear. “You sure you’ve been kissed before?” “You’re not funny.”

“I’m genuinely asking, love.”

You push him away from you, eyes rolling back. “My heart’s not racing, you liar.”

“Someone seems awfully flustered.”

“I’m not flustered.”

He smirks, gesturing to your slightly disheveled appearance. “You’re not?”

“You’re seeing things.”

Still, you mess with the hem of your pants just a little bit, smoothing down the wrinkles in your shirt. In truth, your heart is beating pretty fast, heat burning beneath your skin wherever he touched you.   

“Seeing things again, Constantine?” Zatanna is smirking when she enters the room.

John scoffs. “What do you mean, ‘again’?”   

Zatanna comes up behind you, slinging an arm over your shoulders. The scent of her body spray, sweet and fruity and expensive, floods your nostrils. You blink and something clicks in your mind.

“Is he giving you a hard time?” She asks.

You nod, turning to look at her with pleading eyes. Her own eyes narrow slightly, darting to look at John before looking back at you. She doesn’t say anything but the way she smiles tells you she knows.

You cup the side of her face and pull her in, moving your own head forward to brush your lips against hers. The taste of her lipgloss lingers on your tongue, her lips soft and warm and smooth against yours. 

You pull away, your heart racing just a little more than it was before, suddenly grateful that John’s hearing isn’t what it used to be.

“See?” You say, satisfied, “you’re seeing things.”

His own cheeks are pinkened, eyes widened and looking between the two of you. “That’s just not fair, love.”

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