Eden

Dick

on the way home from wherever, your arguing already starts

“but you got to start last time, it's not fair!” is his argument ALWAYS

bc its true, when you're arguing about who gets to go down first, in the end he will let you go first, anticipation for his turn having him on edge anyways

when you finish tho, he will take his sweet time

where you were hungry and impatient, he has the selfrestraint necessary to tease you enough to make you regret not letting him win this time 

in the end, you promise him he can go fist next time (the arguing will start again)

Jason

when you get home, you think you're sneaky

getting him to sit down comfortably, getting rid of his jacket and boots, telling him to relax after his exhausting day

he can see right through you tho

the moment you place a hand on his groin and about to settle between his legs, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you on his lab

he starts with kissing you and slowly creeping his fingers into your pants and underwear

he will work you open and ready before laying you down roughly and going at it like its his last meal 

you will get your turn, just maybe not tonight

Tim

you would have an actual race to see who gets the other one undressed first, you two are definitely fighting dirty as well

he will try to stop you physically from getting to his zipper, grabbing your wrist and pulling them away and you will try to distract him telling him all the things you're going to do to him if he just lets you go first

if you win: he will get weaker in the knees by just the thoughts of you on your knees, he will drop onto the bed or couch or wherever and hope he will last long enough to not totally embarrass himself, but the mental image alone gets him far

if Tim wins: he will sit or lay you down somewhere he seems fit and have the time of his life between your thighs, every squirm, every whine and every moan getting him closer and closer till he (often times) just comes untouched 

he will need cuddles after 

Wally

deeply offended when you wont let him go first

“whyyy? why won't you let me? pleaseee!"

he whines in protest, like, a lot of whining, so much so that more often than not, you will let him have his way, mourning your chance of getting your turn already, knowing that once he starts, he will not stop

he eats out you like a starving man, making a lot of noise too

Both of your lives were busy. For different reasons, of course, but busy nonetheless. Jason knew that.

Still, he found himself missing you more and more, even when you technically shared a bed, had your coffees in the mornings together and tried to spend at least one night together a week.

But recently, you have been coming home later than usual, missing him leave before falling into bed and rushing out the apartment in the mornings. 

Jason hated that. So much. He missed falling asleep without you cuddling up to him, hated waking up knowing that you were already about to leave for classes and hated, absolutely hated, you having to postpone date nights.

Maybe he should have a word with your professor, or boss, or both.

He is still in bed when he gets a text message. He ignores it, but then, immediately after, gets a second one, and another one.

He reaches out for his phone on the night stand, either someone died or is about to die. 

He sees your name on his display, and as he unlocks his phone to read the message, his entire day, even week, gets 100% better.

You: coworker had to switch shifts

You: I don't have to come in today

You: I HAVE A NIGHT OFF!!! YOU BETTER BE HOME WHEN I COME BACK

Jason can't believe his complaining was actually heard and answered by this miracle shift switch.

Jason: Date night?

You: you better have everything prepared and ready

You: have to go but love you

He rolls over to your side of the bed, pulls your pillow close and pretends it is you for a second. Jesus Christ. He is pathetic. He stops to get up and ready to prepare the best date night in months.

Jason's mental to-do list grows more and more after every task he finishes.  First, it was just: get groceries, choose an activity. But then he sees the dishes piling up. After finishing the dishes, he thinks that the shelves could use some dusting again, then he vacuums the whole apartment, changes the sheets on the bed and puts the blanked on the sofa in the washing machine as well and then notices, too late, that you two might need it tonight.

Well, fuck. 

After he forces himself to focus on his two actual tasks at hand, he swings open the apartment door and leaves.

A while later, he returns, stocks the fridge with your favourite beverages and some other crap and drops onto the sofa.

He skips through some streaming services' selection of movies. Sure he loves reading, especially with you. But tonight, he wanted to focus on you. Preferably without you noticing that he hasn't turned a single page in ten minutes. 

He thinks all of the options are shit.

He will  just let you decide.

He hears keys turning in the apartment door lock. You come in, the exhausted look hanging on your face for weeks leaving in an instant when you see him on the sofa. 

Jason looks so peaceful. A bit on edge, sure, but he always did that. Today, he had a soft smile on his face and wore comfortable clothes, making him radiate an almost cozy energy.

You put your bag down.

“Give me ten and I'll be with you.” You give him a smile as your words leave your mouth, then you start peeling off your clothes on the way to the bathroom.

“No, come here.” He hells after you, but before he can even follow you, the bathroom door is locked. 

You quickly shower, and then sneak into the bedroom, to pull out sweatpants and one of Jason's big shirts that you claimed ownership of months ago.

When you finally stand in the doorway to the livingroom, you tilt your head.

"Where's the blanket?”

"Washing machine." Jason answers.

“Oh.”

“You get the snacks, I'll get the blankets from the bed.” Was his solution. “But can you please come here first.”

You contemplated, you really want the blankets and something between the two of you.

Jason apparently notices the doubt on your face, because the man slouches into himself and furrows his brows. 

"What's wrong?” He asks, tone forced to stay even.

“I just want the blanket, it's cold.” A lie.

"It's summer.”

“In Gotham.”

“Youre acting weird. What's wrong?” This time Jason's voice cracks.

You feel bad for lying but the truth isn't much better either.

“What's wrong?” He repeats again. He gets up, makes his way to you till he towers over you. “Have I done something?”

You look up to him, your arms clinging onto each other in front of your chest. He keeps up the eye contact till you turn your head to the side and sign.

“I don't really want to have this conversation right now. Can't we just talk tomorrow?” You ask, still no eye contact.

“When you leave before I'm even awake or when you come home when I'm already on patrol?” The words were cutting and you could hear anger seething below them. 

You don't answer him. 

He moves past you. You see him putting on his shoes.

“Where are you going?”

“For a walk.” He says.

He slams the door shut behind himself. You can hear his heavy footsteps stomp down the old wooden stairs of your apartment complex.

Great.

Jason wanders the streets for about fifteen minutes. He doesn't have a plan on where to go, but a specific destination wasn't the goal anyway. 

He was so happy to find out you were going to come home early today. He really craves the affection the past busy weeks were lacking. He was going insane. Every morning that he woke up without you next to him cost him at least a few years of his life span.

He could physically feel the effects of it.

He hated it. He hated not having you near him and now you two were fighting.

Fucking great.

He walks past a late night convenience store and stops as he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket.

It was you.

“Hello?”

He answered, that's a good sign, right?

You grip your phone tighter.

“Hey.” Silence followed.

“Sorry, I don't want to fight. Please come back?”

A humming from the other end.

“Why won't you tell me what's wrong?”

You take a deep breath, you feel embarrassed and exposed, not wanting to give the stupid reason for your imaginary no-touch-rule.

"It's stupid.” You confess.

“Tell me anyway.”

“I feel ugly.”

A scoff followed you deep dark confession.

“Im serious. I haven't had the time to take care of myself recently. And I honestly didn't want you to see me like this. It's not fair, you look good. Always. And I can't even, I don't know-”

“Baby, you know I love you, right? And I've been craving some time together for forever now.” 

Jason's words warm your insides a bit.

“I love you, too. And I want you back here now.” You smile as you say that.

When the doorbell rings, you're confused, but open anyway. 

Drenched like a wet dog, Jason comes up the stairs, grinning like a madman.

“It started raining.” He bridged the space between you with the last couple of steps.

“I can see that.” You answer him.

He holds out his hand. “I bought flowers.”

You take them and look at him, not able to hide your smile any longer. You pull him inside by his wet shirt, put down the flowers on the old hallway table and wrap your arms around him.

He strokes your hair with one hand, joy just flooding through him at the touch.

He leans down a bit, lifting your face with his other hand.

“Can I kiss you now, please?”

You and Dick haven't been dating for long, about a month officially. Due to both of your lives being pretty busy, especially at the moment, you haven't had the time for actual dates yet, except the one you had a few weeks ago and the casual coffee dates when you were on your lunch break.

You told him from the start that you struggle with physical contact. That you often don't feel comfortable, are scared to seem clingy and he said to take your time. But the longer it took, the more he realised that you weren't necessarily uncomfortable being around him or when he initiated closeness, it was more that you didn't know how to ask for it.

So, he decided to show you that it was okay to ask for his affection, that it was okay and normal to cuddle up, hold hands, whatever. 

And clearly, the solution is a horror movie. One with jumpscares that are scary enough to make you curl up to his side. It is, in Dickss professional opinion, foolproof. Dicks research for the perfect horror movie begins  and ends on the first website that pops up. On the screen, a ranking of the top 10 scariest jump scares. Some of the movies seemed too scary to still have a romantic date night, so he chooses the second to last movie, Insidious.

He arrives at your apartment, a plastic bag hanging from his hand filled with drinks and snacks.

“You really did bring the whole convenience store.” You say as you hold open the door.

Dick grins and steps in, heading towards your small kitchen.

“I wasn't sure what you would like.” He lifts the bag onto the countertop, “I got chips, chocolate, microwave popcorn and your favourite soda.” He proudly holds the bottle up.

“That's so sweet, thank you.” You stand in the doorway, hand folded in front of your hips. You look at him through your lashes, unsure what to do next.

Dick notices, he puts the bottle down at the counter, takes a step forward and closes his arms around you. 

“You don't even know how much I looked forward to tonight.” He turns his head and kisses your cheek, then the top of your head. He lets go of you again, you kinda wish he didn't leave and almost reach out again. 

Dick starts looking through the cabinets for bowls. You observe him opening the microwave, taking a quick look at the back of the microwave popcorn before shrugging and putting it into the microwave. Then he opens the bag of chips, filling it into a light pink plastic bowl you usually use for baking, not eating out of. 

“I like how at home you feel already.” you say, light sarcasm lacing your words.

He turns and just grins, again.

“Am I not supposed to?”

You are about to answer, but the microwave starts beeping. 

Thank god.

After snacks are ready and Dick gets you to get your fluffy blanket, you're all set for the movie. Dick didn't want to tell you what you were going to watch, so now you're curious. 

“So, what are we watching?”

“Insidious.”

"Didn't think you would be a horror fan?” You say, eying him from the side.

“Are you kidding, I love horror.” Definitely did not.

You grab a pillow and place it between your arms. You have already seen the movie, but didn't have the heart to tell him, he seems way too excited for it. 

The grin on his face grows wider after every new ghost and every new scary revelation. He really did seem to be a horror enthusiast.

As you reach for the popcorn, you notice his eyes on you.

“What?” you ask, stuffing your mouth with popcorn.

“The movie is scary, right?” His eyes are  weirdly hopeful.

“I don't know, I'm too distracted by Specs.” You joke.

You hear Dick scoff. "You're looking at other men?” He dramatically puts a hand to his forehead and leans onto the soft pillows behind him. That makes you chuckle and pet his thigh. You feel him freeze up and take your hand back again, your eyes now forced on the screen. 

Really smooth, Grayson. 

He wanted to show you that it is okay to initiate affection, not scare you away. Why did the universe want to see him on the ground so badly?

He looks over at you again, you seem lost in thoughts and he doesn't know if he should say something or just chill and wait for the inevitable jump scare that would solve all his problems without having to use embarrassing words.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Dick picked up the conversation again.

“That kid is really creepy, ew.” He said, brows furrowed together.

“You can't say that.”

“Yes I can. If I found out that my child astral projects I would, I don't know, call someone more qualified than these two.” Dick gestures to the TV where the wanna be ghost busters did something stupid again.

You just give him a laugh as a reply.

After about half the movie, the conversation died out again and you are now intently looking at the screen.

He watched you for a second, then turned around to the screen again, when, suddenly, a red faced something appeared behind the character's face.

He practically jumps up. His arm around you now, clinging to you with shock written on his face.

You turn to him, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Dont you dare laugh at me.” He looks at you with fake anger in his eyes.

That breaks you and it takes a minute for you to stop and to breathe normally again.

“The jump scare really got you, huh?” Your hand finds its way to his back, stroking it in a mocking way. “Poor big, buff, scared Dickie.” 

A pout forms on his face.

“I got surprised!" He turns his head away, still trying to recover from whatever that was.

“Need me to kiss it better?” You say.

He turns back on that. His eyes slightly wider than normal and mouth having difficulties closing. You could feel your own heart racing, you said it more as a joke but hearing yourself actually say it? You are kinda scared that he will react the same way he did when you touched his thigh early that evening, not wanting to make him feel obligated to do anything he didn't want. 

“That would be nice.” His voice is more like a breath than anything.

You hesitate. Should you, really? But he looks so hopeful now, so excited. 

You sit up a bit, shift closer and slowly bring up your hands to his face. You hold him for a moment, then realise how weird it probably is to just look at him like that and pull him down.

It's not like you have never kissed before. You did, plenty of times. But Dick was always the one to bring it up, to make the first move and the one to end it. The fact that it was your first time actually in charge made him feel all fuzzy inside. He knew he wanted to make you feel more comfortable, but he didn't know how much he needed the reassurance as well. He melts into your touch, almost whining when you pull him even closer.

When you finally stop, you are pressed against the pillows behind you, Dick draped over you. One of his hands found their way to your waist, the other busy stroking your cheek. His eyes are dazed as he looks down on you. 

“Worth it.” He breathes out.

He drops himself on your chest, enjoying the closeness. You begin to nervously play with his hair. 

“You know, I only picked this movie for this to happen.” 

“You picked it so you would get scared and kiss me?” You say, in slight disbelief.

Tim's misery starts when Dick mentions going to see a special screening of the movie Saw. He and Wally apparently have nothing better to do with their time off than watching some tacky 2000s horror slop.

“Want to tag along? I think you might like this one.” Dick asks.

“Sure, why not.” He pulls out his phone to text you and ask if you want to join them as well, obviously you say yes.

A few hours later, he finds himself sitting in the backseat of Dicks car, Wally sitting next to him in the front. He texts you again, telling you that they will arrive on time.

“Excited for the movie?” Wally asks.

Tim looks up from his phone and shrugs his shoulders.

“Or excited to sit next to someone?” That is Dick, a smug grin across his face reflecting in the rearview mirror.

“No way, you got a date?” Wally's voice is way too eager.

“Im not sure if they're even dating. I have seen coworkers have more chemistry. Honestly, have you ever seen them being affectionate? Or touching?” Dicks voice suddenly becomes very irritating in his ears.

“You're right, dude.” Wally shakes his head, “Tim, you know you can, like, hold hands and stuff, right?”

Tim's face grows hot. He forces his gaze down to his screen again.

After ten uncomfortable minutes, they finally arrive. Dick parks the car in the relatively empty parking lot. The entrance is only a short walk away, the big glowing letters of the movie theater illuminating their way.

You stand waiting inside the lobby, reading something on your phone. When you hear a voice calling your name you look up and see your boyfriend, his brother and one of his brothers friends.

You hug Tim and Dick, not sure how to greet the other man, you smile awkwardly and are about to extend your hand. He ignores it and hugs you as well.

"Wally. Nice to meet you officially.”

Officially? What is that supposed to mean?

“Nice to meet you, too.” you say.

The four of you make your way to the counter, buy your tickets, then buy some snacks. A few minutes later, you're finally settled into your seats. Tim on your right, Dick next to him and Wally on your left.

Before the trailers are even over, you and Wally discover your mutual love for the franchise.

Tim glances over at you, suppressing a smile. He hadn't known you were into horror, but that only makes his plan to prove his brother wrong better. No way you'd make it through Saw without eventually scooting closer.

A smug grin tugs at the corner of his mouth.

Take that, dickhead. No chemistry my ass.

After the first truly brutal scene, he sees you lean forward into your seat. Prepared to comfort you in his arms, he puts down his popcorn bucket. Then he hears you say something about how impossible the trap really is, Wally nodding energetically in agreement.

Next time.

Tim tries to pay attention to the movie.

He really does.

Unfortunately, every other sentence out of your mouth drags his attention right back to you.

He hears you whisper again and turns to you two. Thanks to the dim light that falls off the screen, he sees your eyes grow wide.

That's my chance for sure.

“Wally, did you get that? I've read a theory about that scene once.” You sound way too excited.

Tim slouches back and after a while of still hoping and maybe even praying, Tim's pout wins and is very noticeable throughout the rest of the movie, at some point he is even crossing his arms like some sulky child.

“Man, these two are made for each other.” Dick whispers, also annoyed his friend wasn't paying him any attention.

Tim's head shoots up at that, a frown on his face.

“Wow, chill. That was a joke.” Dicks hands come up defensively.

“And that's why I can see past his traumatic past. His logic is still massively flawed.” You say, not even bothering to keep your voice down anymore. The only people other than you four are in the very back and have already given up shushing you.

“Yes, exactly!” Wally exclaimes.

Tim rolls his eyes and shoots the guy an angry glance, hoping he can see his eyes in the dark. Apparently he doesn't, because the red head has the nerve to get closer, to close, to you, to show you something on his phone. Why would he do that? What is so interesting that Wally has to show you now? Seriously? He cranes his neck to get a better look at the screen. It is just some meme, probably not even funny.

“Oh god, why would you show me this?” You whine. “I refuse to believe Adam is actually dead.”

“Adam dies?” Dick turns his head towards you.

“Sorry.” You say, an apologetic smile on your lips. Then you turn to Wally again.

Tim shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

Either he will suffocate or kill the guy.

The last thirty minutes, Tim spends angrily slurping his soda or loudly chewing your shared popcorn.

The credits finally begin to roll. Tim is the first one out of his seat and Dick catches the look on his face and wisely decides not to tease him again. When they reach the lobby, Tim mutters something about meeting you outside and tells Dick and Wally to head home without him.

“Are you okay?” You ask him when it's just you two.

He just gives a quick nod.

"You're not. You have been weird the whole evening. What's wrong?” Your hands find his right shoulder, slowly stroking it in circles. He looks at you for a couple of moments before turning around, his ears growing visibly red.

“It's stupid, let's go home.” He begins to stalk off.

“No, tell me.” You walk after him till you catch up, then you take his hand. He looks at your hands, touching, entangled in each other. You catch his eyes. “Did I do something?” You say, then after a moment, “Oh god, I ignored you the whole night. I'm so sorry, Timmy.” You try to touch his face, to pull him closer and to kiss him as an apology, when he pulls back.

“Do you not want me to touch you?” You ask, somewhat insecure.

“No, god, please touch me. That's the whole reason Dick thinks we're just friends!" It just blurts out of him.

You smile softly. “Dick thinks we're just friends? That's why you act like this?” He grips your hand tighter and gives you another nod. He doesn't look into your eyes as he pulls you closer and puts his hands around your waist. Your hands go up to his hair, slowly combing through it with your fingers.

“I'm staying over at your place.” He decides.

“I figured.” You cup his face and give him a quick kiss before freeing yourself from his grip and dragging him to your car.