Everyone loved Dick Grayson. Almost.

He bore all the qualities of a natural leader with his charismatic and friendly nature, boundless optimism, and infuriatingly good looks. Those on his team would say he was the only valid choice for raid leader in the party. A skilled tank player, a respected member of the community, a successful streamer. Perfect. Popular. Beloved by all.

All except one. One teammate who met him with disdain and hostility at every turn. One teammate who disregarded every olive branch extended to her. Nothing he said, nothing he did, made a difference. It reached the point of tension where his viewers started to ship them with one another, to the infuriation of his teammate. Her viewers merely seemed to think of him as a pest.

A lesser man would have let it be. Maybe he should have let it be. But Dick Grayson was not a quitter. And something about today felt different. He had been on a roll since he woke up, the day as smooth as silk from the moment his eyes opened to see the morning sun shining through his window.

NIGHTWING: Hey. Wanna do dailies? Just us. You can keep the loot.

His eyes followed the letters as he typed, watching his screen with a small flutter of trepidation.

He had no reason to be nervous, none at all. No sensible explanation for being so invested in just getting a response, any response. Most days, his DMs were ignored.

SUNKILLER: Busy tonight. Tomorrow?

NIGHTWING: “I have a 24hr charity livestream tomorrow. Offering to join me?”

SUNKILLER: Fine. What time?

His jaw nearly dropped as the words appeared on his screen. She agreed, readily? No sarcasm, no snark? Was she sick? Did she need money? Was the end of the world approaching and he just missed all the warning signs?

NIGHTWING: Starts at 2pm. Try not to be late!

It seemed better not to question it. If he asked if she was certain, it gave her the opportunity to change her mind or quip back with something like ‘of course not, dumbass, did you really think I’d join you?’ or some other hope shattering statement. Excitement had his heart racing. Perhaps he could trust his gut feeling. Perhaps this meant progress. Could he finally be winning her over?

Luck abandoned him the next morning.

The alarm clock roused him from his sleep. Blinking away the haze as he sat up, Dick groaned. His body ached, muscles heavy and unresponsive. A dull ache throbbed in the back of his throat with every swallow and mumbled complaint as he pushed himself out of his bed. He could feel congestion in the back of his nose, faint but present.

He had no time to be sick, not today. The twenty-four-hour charity livestream happened to be a big deal. After promoting it as much as he had to try and get as much interest as possible, wanting to blow the set donation goal out of the water, the last thing he wanted to do was call it off. Not only would it let his audience down, it would let the charity down. Plus, he’d finally gotten his raid teammate to agree to join him one on one for some game time.

He just had to not be sick.

So, he stuck to the plan and figured he could just ignore it. Banners and graphics galore decorated his setup, the timer to start the twenty-four-hour countdown in the corner just beneath his camera feed. A meter to track donations decorated a separate monitor. Chat started buzzing with excitement before he turned the camera on, watching his “Starting Soon!” screen with anticipation.

His post last night before bed about getting Sunkiller to join him broke his chat. The messages flooding the screen seemed torn between optimism and teasing.

REDRIDINHOOD [MOD]: Dude, are you sure she’s not just screwing with you?

LIGHTSHOW: This is awesome, Sun’s finally giving you the time of day! Shoot your shot, man!

SHARKNADO72: Nightwing is a masochist, confirmed? 24 hour enemies to lovers speedrun.

CYPHERPYSCHO: Romantic relations with one bearing the word ‘Killer’ in her name is ill-advised, Richard.

IC33POP: She’s so pretty! Ship it!

He turned his camera feed on with an eye roll at the comments section, just in time for Amelia to join the call. Clearing his throat in an attempt to sound normal and not like he spent the morning intermittently sniffling; Dick plastered his signature grin on his face.

“Ready to get started, Sun?” his voice came through a bit raspier than he would have liked, but his smile did not waver. “I was going to do a bunch of solo story games but since you’re here, I changed the line-up to some co-op games. Starting with It Takes Two.”

He could see her on the camera, her eyes shifting to the side to look at his video for a moment before returning to look at her primary screen. He watched her lip curl, getting a flash of teeth and the subtle sound of her clicking her tongue. She knew the game in question. A pointed choice of co-op game considering how his audience felt about his involvement with her.

“Let’s get going then. Try not to slow me down,” a teasing tone crept into her voice as she spoke. “You know how I feel about losing.”

Despite the way his nose felt plugged, and his throat ached, his excitement reigned supreme. It overshadowed the feeling of illness creeping through him, at first. As hours ticked by, he could no longer manage to hide it when he cleared his sore throat to try ridding himself of the hoarse, congested tone from his voice. His sniffles, increasingly pronounced, started garnering attention from the chat as thin streams of mucus dripped from his pink nose and glistened in the light. His nostrils flared, breath hitching as he turned his attention back to Amelia.

“Cad you – snrff. I need you to go to the other side of the gap and stay on the pressure plate, I think. Please?” he flashes a charming smile toward the camera, hoping to distract from how awful that sniffle sounded.

“Sure. Are you feeling okay, Nightwing?”

“Huh? Yeah, of course. I’b fide…Hh-hH–! NGKssHHHhuhw!!”

He lost control of the sneeze he wanted so badly to contain, his head diving into his elbow as he covered it. The crook of his elbow, now covered in a wet spray, stayed well below the view of the camera as he repositioned himself, a faint flush to his cheeks as he looked at his screens to gauge the reaction of both Amelia and his chat.

REDRIDINHOOD [MOD]: Get a tissue, dickwad, gross!

BLUDPR1NC355: Aww, bby, are you getting sick??

Apart from his brother, kind comments were flooding in, thousands of viewers blessing him or expressing concern for his wellbeing. Pointing out how pale he looked, how red his nose had gotten, or the constant sniffling he thought he had been subtle about.

Sheepishly glancing at Amelia’s video, he silently pleaded she would not be disgusted by him. Her in-game character jumped the gap and stood on the pressure plate just as he requested, but he noticed that she kept glancing at him. The way she stared, eyes narrowing every time he sniffled or fought back a sneeze. Though she made no comment on his health, her responses to him seemed a little softer.

After a few more hours of her ignoring his suffering and his chat fussing over his health, Dick could no longer breathe through his nose. His sneezes had only worsened, becoming wetter and more frequent. His body lurched towards the camera as a pathetic attempt at rubbing his nose only served to make everything ten times worse, causing his sneezes to tear through him.

“Hh…Heh'KSHht! —kSHh! H-hihh! Hih'KTCHh! Ugh…hh! HT’TSCHh! t’CHSHh!-’itschh!–ihHK’TSCh’uh!”

He ignored the chat for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He covered most of them, but there were still droplets of spray on the camera lens. Wiping them off with the hem of his sleeve, he reached for the tissue box he grabbed during their last bathroom break, only for his fingers to touch the cardboard bottom. Empty.

Through the haze of congestion in his head, and as he sniffled in a futile attempt to contain the flood of mucus dripping from his nose, he heard a little ping! Someone sent him a DM. Pinching his nose while he read it, he couldn’t stop the look of surprise from flashing across his face.

SUNKILLER: DM me your address and I’ll order you some soup. You are not okay.

NIGHTWING: I’m fine, really! Don’t worry about it.

The congested laugh of shock turned into a wet cough, betraying the lie instantly.

SUNKILLER: Liar. Hurry up.

NIGHTWING: Fine, fine. Here you go.

He sent her his address, smiling as he watched her on the camera. With nine hours out of the twenty-four-hour stream already out of the way, and there had been no hostility. One on one, it felt like the person on the other end of the call was a completely different person. He had her perspective of the stream up on another monitor, his eyes scanning her chat.

SP00KYGALZ [MOD]: Mel, what are you writing? I can hear your pen.

K1LLERQUEEN: He’s so pathetic looking today, it’s hot.

GOTHIKAT [MOD]: You’re plotting something. It never ends well when you do that.

SUNNY2881: The NightSun shippers are having a field day in his chat, girl.

LUCIFURR: Lol why wouldn’t they? Queen Mel is hot, he’s hot.

MAGNIFIQUE: You’re being so nice to him today! What happened? Pity party or do we like him now?

He nearly laughed, but a choked cough came out instead, prompting a fit of them as he covered his mouth and nose with his shirt. Watery eyes squeezed shut, shoulders trembling, and throat on fire, he continued to be distracted by his coughing until he heard the familiar ping of his DMs again.

SUNKILLER: You should just cancel. You sound awful.

NIGHTWING: The donations are going to help a lot of people. I can last fifteen more hours!

SUNKILLER: Then change of plans. You have an extra controller at your place?

NIGHTWING: Yeah, why? Coming over?

SUNKILLER: Yes. You won’t cancel the stream? Fine. We can keep playing this game on your couch. Deal?

NIGHTWING: Sure. Come by whenever.

The words he typed came out so casually, but his heartbeat almost stalled. Her chat was right. She was being a lot nicer to him. He barely registered her voice on the stream again, Amelia announcing that the stream would be switching gears and that they were going to continue the game on his couch after she picked up some things for him. Both chats exploded into a frenzy of activity, but Dick was too busy trying to be discreet about wiping his nose on his sleeve to notice.

“Hh… h'ngtchh! Eberyode, I’b deed a few to mbove by setup,” he set his stream to the break screen as he glanced blearily back at Amelia’s stream on the monitor, standing up to start moving the lights and the cameras over to his couch and TV before prepping the game on the console.

The scenery around Amelia kept moving and the video quality changed, showing glimpses of her actions. Snippets of her apartment. A streak of black as she tugged on some shoes. The sound of an engine starting up. Her viewers must be looking through her helmet camera, for the motorcycle videos she sometimes made. The camera only showed her dashboard and a snippet of road as she drove. Luckily for him, she kept the commentary going on his behalf until she walked into… a grocery store?

“Abelia, whadt are you doing?” he unmuted the microphone, leaning in as his voice came out as little more than a congested croak.

“Picking you up some things, like I said. What do you need, Richard? More tissues, cough drops? Soup?”

“Uhhg, mbore tissues. Mbedicide. I’ll take adythihgg,” he must have missed it when she told the stream she was going to get things at the store for him, but at this point he certainly couldn’t say no. 

Picking up various products off the shelves, Amelia took the time to show Dick each item and let him choose what he wanted. As the number of things in her grocery basket grew, so did the number of comments on the stream about their situation. Things like ‘how domestic!’ or ‘I feel like I’m intruding lol’ peppered the chat. Not wanting her to get annoyed by how intent the viewers had become on trying to label their relationship, not after he only just got her to drop some of her walls around him, Dick hurried to finish moving his streaming setup.

It took her twenty minutes to get to his house. He knew they lived in the same city, but never expected anything would come of it. Until now, with Amelia standing in his living room as he hunkered down on the couch. Blowing his nose with a fresh tissue from the box she purchased, he could not tear his eyes away as she flitted around his apartment like some sort of fairy godmother. She put a thermos of soup on the coffee table for him along with a bottle of DayQuil and some tea, oranges for snacking on, several boxes of tissues, a bag of cough drops, and even some extra blankets.

“Alright. Let’s do this,” she picked up his spare controller, settling in on the couch right beside him.

Part of him expected her to sit further away. She needed to be close enough to stay within frame of the camera, but their shoulders were touching. Closer than necessary. The warmth of her arm against him, seeping through the fabric of his shirt, was tantalizing. He could only offer a nod, picking up his own controller and resuming the game.

The DayQuil helped… marginally. Not as much as Dick hoped it would.

“Ih'shiuhh! Ih’TSHh! ItcSHsSHew!” The sneezes filled his tissue, a grimace on his face as he threw it away only to realize it had leaked through onto his hand.

Groaning and wiping his hand clean with another tissue, he leaned further back against the couch. His body slumped to the side slightly, seeking the warm presence of the woman beside him. He felt her shift, inching closer to him as if understanding what he needed.

“Hey, Richard? Can I hijack your stream for a little while?” her tone lacked all of the sarcasm it usually held, with her carefully taking the controller out of his hands and setting it down on the coffee table. “Maybe we can do a Q&A.”

“Huh? Sure, I’bm dowd. Ng'TCHht!”

An attempt was made to stifle his sneeze against her shoulder without Dick realizing what he had done. More followed suit.

“Heh'ESHHuh! Heh'KSHihh! Ugh…”

Afterward, sniffling and blowing his nose into a tissue after he pulled away from her, he noticed the prominent smear of his mucus that remained wet against the fabric of her jacket.

“I'b sorry Abelia, I didd't mbead to. Hold od,” he mumbles, getting up without giving her any time to protest.

He disappeared down the hallway into his room, rummaging in his dresser. Harsh coughs left him breathless and unsteady as he made his way back toward the couch, holding one of his hoodies in his hand. Setting it down in Amelia’s lap, he offered what he hoped looked like a confident smile.

“You should borrow this, sidce I god yours dirty.”

“Thank you, Ri—Dick,” she corrected herself while taking off her soiled jacket, using his nickname for the first time since they met.

Tugging the hoodie over her head, she folded her jacket and set it down on the floor before shifting closer to him yet again. She invited the viewers to start submitting questions for the Q&A portion of the stream while tugging a blanket over the two of them, her arm wrapping around his waist underneath it. A startled look flashed across his face, but he felt too awful to question it. He pressed himself into her side, resting his head against her shoulder.

“Questiod twedty. Why were the two of you always arguigg?” Dick read aloud, after blowing his nose for the umpteenth time, only to stare at Amelia expectantly.

“Oh. That. That was my fault. He just seemed too enthusiastic all the time, I thought he was faking it. It made me feel guilty for not always being in a good mood. Wondering why I couldn’t just be more like him, why did I have to let things get to me? So, I got frustrated. But he really is just that kind of person, and it is hard to stay mad when he’s just trying to be friendly. Besides… now I know he isn’t flawless all the time. He really is human,” she laughed, but it sounded somewhat forced and her tone was… apologetic. “I’m sorry, Dick. For being difficult.”

“You dod't have to aAhh- hahh…Heh'ESHHuh! Apologize,” he buried his face against her side, a soft moan escaping him as his sniffling did nothing to staunch the flow of mucus. “I already forgave you.”

The viewer’s questions felt endless as he leaned firmly against Amelia, her arms wrapped around him almost protectively. The heat of her body against him felt warm and comforting, soothing the chill that plagued him. The stream would be over soon. He only needed to make it for a few more minutes. His body, however, had other plans.

“Hhht’khschh! Hh…Heh'KSHht! Ngh…” the sneezes refused to abate as Dick shuddered in Amelia’s arms, her hand coming to hold a tissue against his nose for him.

She held him a bit tighter, one hand firmly grasping the tissue and the other rubbing his back. His own hands gripped the blanket as if hanging on for dear life, his entire body shaking against hers with each wet sneeze. The chat, the cameras, the stream… it faded into the background, Amelia focused solely on him. When he caught his breath, she tilted his chin up to get a good look at him.

Dick gazed back at her through watery eyes, tears smeared across his cheeks. He felt her thumb brush over his skin, wiping away a few. Her palm cupped his face, and he leaned into the soft touch, bringing his own up to tuck a loose section of hair behind her ear.

“Are you alright?” came the hushed whisper as Amelia leaned in closer to him, resting her forehead against his and feeling the warmth radiating off of him.

“Doh, but it’s fide.”

She studied him, watching his chest rise and fall with each congested breath. His lips stayed parted; Dick unable to breathe through his nose at all. A smile still played upon them, but his eyes seemed unfocused, roaming around her face and yet always settling back on her mouth.

“Do you… want me to kiss you?” she murmured, letting a finger trace his lips.

“God, yes,” he breathed, eyes fluttering closed when she moved closer to him.

A quiet groan rumbled from his throat the moment he felt her soft lips press against his, leaning into it as one hand tangled in her hair. The world around him melted away, letting him forget for just a moment how awful he truly felt.

Until chat exploded.

Banners and sound effects created a cacophony in the room, snapping the two out of the moment they so nearly lost themselves in. Comments flooded in at breakneck speeds, the text moving up the screen too quickly for Dick to process a single word said. But Amelia just pulled him closer, kissing him again while her fingers pressed the power button on the camera.

Stream Disconnected. Twenty-four-hours complete. 

~ Bonus ~

The door opened near silently, Jason’s steps filled with the intent not to disturb. He missed the end of the stream due to work matters, leaving a different sibling to take over moderator duties (thanks, Tim). Now, he merely wanted to confirm his older brother didn’t collapse on the floor or miraculously die in the night. 

But he heard about what happened. Anyone who followed Dick or Amelia’s socials knew what happened. 

Unable to help the smirk stuck to his face, even with no one around to see it, Jason made his way to the living room. The cameras were off, but had not been put away. Blankets lay strewn over the back of the couch, and there was a small trash next to a tied off bag of used tissues. Someone had emptied it but not taken the bag down to the dumpsters yet. Nonetheless, the fact Dick was not passed out on the living room floor or asleep on the couch seemed to be a good sign. 

He made his way down the hall, the sounds of congested snoring growing louder as he approached Dick’s bedroom. The door, left open, did nothing to muffle the sound. Pressing onward out of a mixture of curiosity and the desire to be able to tease his brother, Jason peered into the bedroom. 

Out cold on his back with his limbs splayed like some undignified starfish, Dick’s head lolled sideways, his face partially buried in the curtain of Amelia’s dark hair. His mouth hung open, drooling in the depth of his sleep. His nose, redder than the night before, pressed against the top of Amelia’s head as it oozed, coating the strands of her hair. 

Gross. 

Her face stayed buried in the crook of his neck, her arm draped over chest. She wore the hoodie Dick let her borrow during the stream, along with… ah, yes – Dick’s boxers.