#dicktigerweek2020

He jolted, a flash of worry like lightning making him bolt upright. He almost threw himself out of bed and into his gear when halfway through the action he spotted the handwritten note on the bedside table.

Wait here.

Dick frowned. So Tiger had just left with only those instructions, not telling Dick that he was going, when he would be back or what he was doing? They were supposed to be a team. You were supposed to communicate with your teammates.

Look, he knew that Tiger didn’t like working with him. Fine, Dick didn’t need him to like working with him. But they still needed to work together.

He sighed and pushed himself out of bed anyway, knowing he probably wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep after that shot of adrenaline.

First thing Dick did was open up their med kit and dig around, looking for a painkiller. He’d woken up with another headache. It seemed like he was constantly having headaches lately, of various degrees of pain, but he kept smiling through it.

Being on the run was not fun. It never is fun. He could act like he was having fun and make jokes and poke the bear that was Tiger’s temper until he lost a finger all through it, but really, it was not fun. Between the fights and the car chases, and the bouts of banter, in the quiet moments when all they could do is keep running or try and get as much rest as they could before they start running again… everything caught up to him.

Too much had happened in the last… year? Two years? He didn’t know, his grasp on time was slipping— too much had happened that he hadn’t processed and he was paying for it now.

And moments alone were the worst of all.

Suddenly having to go off all his meds all at once because there wasn’t time to pack anything or bring anything with them other than the clothes on their backs did not help either.

Seriously did not help. In fact, Dick felt like shit.

He found a little bottle of pain meds. He shook it. It was mostly empty. He sighed again and took one. Dry. Just to spite himself.

Dick wished Tiger had told him he was going somewhere— he would have asked him to grab some Advil if he got the chance. He’d even have thrown in some puppy dog eyes and a ‘pretty please’.

Luckily, he didn’t actually have to wait that long before the door to their room unlocked from the outside and creaked open.

Tiger walked in, stone faced, but in a way that looked like he was trying hard to keep his expression blank. Even still, there was a slight furrow to his brow, that seemed to stick through his every waking moment. He was holding a box.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” the other spy said upon seeing Dick sitting at the flimsy table. He walked over and set the box down on the table in front of him, then took a step back and folded his arms. “Here.”

Dick looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Is this some sort of prank box? A spring-loaded clown doll isn’t going to jump out at me if I open it, right?”

Tiger scoffed. “Of course not. Just open it.”

So Dick opened it.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, exactly, but it wasn’t a birthday cake.

It was a pretty typical store bought cake, with white icing and red, blue and yellow little fondant balloons decorating the top, around the fancy cursive letters that read ‘joyeux anniversaire’.

He blinked first down at the cake, then up at Tiger, a look of obvious confusion on his face. “Huh?” He said, quite intelligently if you asked him.

“It is a birthday cake.” Tiger grunted. There was a hint of red in his cheeks. He probably wasn’t expecting to have to explain himself.

“Yeah, I can see that.” Dick deadpanned. “But what for?”

Tiger frowned. “It is your birthday.”

Dick blinked again. “It is? Shit, I didn’t even notice the date. Wait, how do you know my birthday?”

“It was in your file. I read it when we first were assigned partners.”

“And you remembered?” Dick smiled, and Tiger blushed harder and looked away. “And you— you got me a cake?”

“It’s customary.” Tiger grumbled. “If you don’t like it—“

“No, no! I do like it! I love it!” Dick looked back down at the cake, then at Tiger again. “I— I mean— you—“

His smile started to crack and crumble as he stammered. “You… care…?”

Tiger frowned as Dick’s whole expression started to dissolve and his eyes went distinctly glassy. Dick quickly started to wipe at the tears that pooled there, though yet to fall. “Sorry— Sorry.” He muttered. “I just— I should say thank you. This is… really nice.”

But for some reason speaking those last few words just made things worse for himself, and Dick turned away with a single, gasping sob, before Tiger could see him fall apart. Why now, he internally lamented, why do I have to have a break down now?

“Uh—“ He heard from behind him, and Dick could easily imagine the confused expression that must be on Tiger’s face. The man wasn’t exactly the emotionally supportive type, that was Dick’s job. He felt bad for making Tiger witness this mess— especially after the other spy went out of his way to do something so nice for him. Tiger didn’t deserve this.

The chair across from him scraped across the floor as Tiger pulled it out from the table, and creaked loudly when he sat down. “Richard,” he said, and Dick turned further away, hiccuping a little. “Are you… okay?”

No. Dick wanted to say. I’m not okay.

(Well if you wanted honesty that’s all you had to sayy I never want to let you down or have you go it’s BETTER OFF THIS WAY for all the dirty looks the photographs your boyfriend took remember when you Broke Your Foot from Jumping Out the Second floor I’m NOOOTTT OOOOKAYYY IM NOT—)

Yeah, okay.

Yeah, I’m fine, Dick also wanted to say. He didn’t know why, but he was always hesitant to tell people when he wasn’t doing alright. He never liked to burden people with his load of shit, especially not when they needed his help more.

But Tiger wouldn’t buy it for a second, and while he may not have been the emotionally supportive type Tiger also didn’t take any bullshit and wouldn’t appreciate Dick just lying to his face like that.

Though Dick was sure that absolutely no one would be convinced if they were in Tiger’s place, watching him cry his eyes out because of a birthday cake, and he tried to tell them nothing was wrong, literally through tears.

“No,” Dick said. “I’m not okay.”

(Well if you wanted honesty that’s all you had to sayy I never want to let you down or have you go it’s BETTER OFF THIS WAY for all the dirty looks the photographs your boyfriend took remember when you Broke Your Foot from Jumping Out the Second floor I’m NOOOTTT OOOOKAYYY IM NOT—)

Okay okay, enough of that.

“I can see that.” Tiger retorted, even though he was the one who asked in the first place. Dick decided to cut the guy some slack. He sniffed, wiped the tracks of tears off his cheeks as his (fucking annoying) crying slowed to a stop. He looked at Tiger over his shoulder.

“I… sorry, it’s just been… a rough year. A rough couple of years, actually.”

He didn’t elaborate any further. He probably didn’t need to. Tiger didn’t prompt him to elaborate. He probably didn’t need to, either. Dick suspected Tiger knew already about (most of) the shit that had made these last few years so rough. Dick didn’t know how Tiger knew, but Tiger had this way of knowing pretty much everything.

Maybe he was secretly a meta. Probably not, but maybe.

Dick turned more fully in his chair to sit in it the right way, except he pulled a foot up onto the seat to tuck his knee into his chest. He looked at the cake again. It looked, in all honesty, pretty good.

He just… wouldn’t think about the calories. He could do that much, pretty simple— eat some cake and not stress about the calories.

And if the sugar made him break out, then whatever. He didn’t care if Tiger saw him in an aesthetically imperfect state. And he knew that Tiger didn’t care about it— they’d been on the run for a hot minute and had only just a few days ago managed to get a hold of some toothbrushes. Tiger’s beard was scragglier than it usually was. Neither of their hygiene or grooming habits were exactly peak at the moment.

Besides, Dick thought with a smirk— despite the lingering wateryness of his eyes—, Tiger was into him regardless of poor hygiene and unwashed clothes, and regardless of how much Tiger insisted he hated him. Dick had caught him practically gazing longingly at his collarbones the other day— his collarbones! Dude was on a whole other level of both repression and desire if he was looking at Dick’s collarbones as opposed to his more popular assets.

But Dick appreciated that. He’d made a comment once on how frustrating it was that everyone was more focused on his ass than anything else about him, and Tiger hadn’t even glanced at his backside since. So he was a man with taste who also respected boundaries.

Also, he got me a birthday cake. He went out of his way to get me a birthday cake. That’s not really something you do for someone you hate. Dick thought, and smiled back up at Tiger, wiping away the last traces of his tears. Tiger eyed him suspiciously.

“What?”

Dick smiled wider. “You like me.”

Tiger coughed suddenly, looking away. He glared down at the floor. “I do not! I told you before, I can’t stand you, and— and I cannot wait until I no longer have to spend even a second in your infuriating presence.”

“Yeah, yeah, blah blah you’re going to kill me someday yada yada. Why’d you get me a cake, then?” Dick teased him.

“It— well—“ Tiger stammered, something that Dick had never ever seen before. “I… wanted… I thought you would like it.” He admitted. Dick’s smile softened.

“I do like it.” He said, “Thank you.”

Then he sniffed, for some reason the tightness in his throat came back and his eyes once more looked suspiciously dewy. Tiger got a slightly constipated look.

“Don’t start crying again. Please.”

Dick laughed. “I won’t, I won’t.” He said, hoping he wouldn’t. “It’s just… been a while since anyone did something so nice for me without an ulterior motive.”

He shot Tiger a look, but it was still teasing. “You haven’t got an ulterior motive, right?” Tiger sighed.

“I wish I did. Now are you going to eat that thing or not?”

“Oh, right.”

Tiger handed him a travel fork from one of their packs, then reached back down into the pack and started rummaging around. Dick wasted no time in plunging the bamboo fork right into the cake, breaking through the icing and pulling away a generous bite of what was revealed to be chocolate cake. Tiger looked back up as Dick brought his fork up to his mouth, and stared at him incredulously, with no small amount of disgust. Dick paused.

“What?”

“You’re just going to… eat the… and not even…” Tiger searched for words. Dick shrugged with a pout.

“It’s my birthday cake, I’ll eat it however I want to.” He pushed the cake box more towards the center of the small, round table. “Want some?”

The other spy looked between Dick, the cake with the one bite taken out of it, the fork in his hand, and back at Dick.

“You can just eat from the other side. I promise you won’t catch any cooties.” Dick offered, nudging the cake forward a little more. Tiger huffed and didn’t say anything, but still took out the other fork and stabbed it almost violently into the side of the cake closest to him. Dick finally ate his bite of cake, grinning around the fork. (Wow, this is good cake.) (Just don’t think about the calories.)

‘Cooties… ridiculous.’ He heard Tiger mutter under his breath. He ate another bite of the cake, his qualms about Dick’s lack of table manners seemingly behind him. “I shouldn’t have done this. If I had known you had forgotten it was your birthday I would have just let the day pass quietly without any fuss.”

“No, you wouldn’t have.” Dick said it like he was teasing, but he and Tiger both now knew it was true. “Hey, you know what would make a great birthday gift?”

Tiger raised an eyebrow at him. “What, the cake wasn’t enough for you?”

“Nope,” Dick smirked. “The only thing that can satisfy me…” he paused for dramatic effect, “is a hug.”

Tiger groaned. “Absolutely not.”

Dick didn’t mean to let his face fall. He meant to brush it off with a laugh, but then his smile slipped and he couldn’t catch it before it was simply gone. Tiger noticed. Dick cringed.

It would be nice if some cake and a little bit of banter were enough to fully lift his spirits, but unfortunately it just wasn’t cutting it.

He was still cold.

Tiger sighed and stood up. Dick looked away, chewing at his lip.

(Yeah, so maybe Tiger did care, but that didn’t necessarily mean he would never exploit Dick’s moments of weakness. He was still a spy, Dick had to remind himself. He was still a spy and everything Bruce ever instilled in him was telling him not to trust him.)

(But he trusted Tiger anyway. So maybe he was an idiot, he didn’t care. He just needed to be not so all encompassingly alone in this world right now.)

Tiger rounded the table so that he was standing next to Dick’s chair, positively towering over him. “Stand up.”

“What?” Dick blinked.

“Stand up.”

Dick stood up. Tiger had been standing so close to his chair that when he did he was nearly chest to chest with the taller man, and Dick felt his heart speed up involuntarily at the proximity.

Almost as soon as Dick was on his feet, Tiger was uncrossing his arms and wrapping them around Dick instead— one arm around his back pulling him close and one hand cupping the back of his neck, and if Dick didn’t know better he’d describe it as tender. Gentle.

Tiger didn’t do tender or gentle.

So how could you explain this, then?

Dick couldn’t see Tiger’s face like this, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of sour expression he might have right now. Dick didn’t care. Tiger was— Tiger was warm, he was so warm, the heat seeping through Dick’s clothes and skin and all the way down to his bones.

He stifled a gasp and snapped his arms shut around Tiger’s back, clinging way tighter than was called for, but Tiger didn’t say anything.

Everything was going to be okay. Things sucked right now, but Dick wasn’t alone. Tiger was there, and he cared, and that was all Dick needed.

Helena, of course, was suspicious, due to Dick’s quiet and stormy mood when they returned from the mission, but then, she was always suspicious. He refused to say anything about it, though.

He just did not know what to do. He didn’t know how to act, especially around Tiger.

Like, okay, Dick could easily admit he had already been quite attracted to Tiger. He was handsome, and smart and cool, and fun to tease, and Dick just knew he had a soft centre, under all those hard layers of bitterness and short temper, even if he had yet to actually show it.

But that kiss had been a game changer.

Now, every time Dick thought of Tiger, his guts would twist up in a weird way, weird but not bad, and his heart would flutter, sometimes a little bit, sometimes so much he thought his chest might explode. And he’d liked— really liked— being touched by Tiger. Tiger’s hand on his waist while they were dancing, on the small of his back as they were leaving… even if it was just for show, it was a level of intimate that usually put spiders under Dick’s skin, but it hadn’t.

There were only two other people in the whole world that could do that, and those were people Dick had believed at one point or another to be his soulmate.

That scared him.

Dick was not in a position where he could pursue this… whatever it was. He just couldn’t. Not to mention Bruce would be livid if he ever found out Dick had gotten, ahem, involved, with a spy. Especially a spy that was literally Spyral’s top agent. And that wasn’t even taking into account Dick’s mess of a mental state in general right now. He was almost certain he wouldn’t be able to maintain a relationship like that, in an environment like this, in the state he was in.

So, no. Dick would just have to deal, and try as hard as he could to not think about Tiger in that way. But, if this past week had proven anything, it was that that would be nearly impossible.

But he couldn’t take this any further. It was one kiss. No matter how mind blowing it was. He couldn’t take it any further.

…

But damn, he wanted to. To hell with reason, to hell with what Bruce would think.

He could… indulge, just a little bit, right? It didn’t have to be that serious. His whole life was pretty shit right now, he could have just this one thing, right? He deserved to feel good every once in a while, right?

They didn’t even have to get feelings involved, it didn’t have to be a relationship. It could be… casual.

Dick was terrible at being casual. He was incapable of separating sex from feelings, it just wasn’t something he did or could ever do. This was a bad idea.

Fuck it. It was a bad idea, it was probably going to blow up and end in tears eventually, but that was a problem for future Dick.

Present Dick was going to indulge. Just a little. As a treat.

Provided Tiger was on board, of course.

Another week passed, and Dick was starting to think it was Tiger that was avoiding him, now. Everywhere he went where he thought Tiger might be, the man was nowhere to be seen. Dick couldn’t find him in the gym, or the dining hall, or where he usually prayed, or anywhere around St. Hadrian’s. And he didn’t know where Tiger’s room was, so that was a bust, too.

It was like the man had just vanished into thin air. It didn’t make any sense.

Unless, of course, Tiger actually was avoiding him.

The thought didn’t make Dick feel very good. What if Tiger didn’t actually want Dick in the same way Dick wanted Tiger? Did Tiger regret kissing him? Did Dick just get his hopes up for nothing?

If that were the case then Dick figured he might as well just fling himself into the sun.

So, he felt pretty silly when he learned Tiger had been sent on a solo mission a few days ago.

Dick was there at the landing pad when Tiger’s shuttle touched down, practically bouncing on his toes like an eager schoolboy with a crush. When he saw the spy emerge into the bright afternoon sun, Dick felt a sense of rightness come over him, and suddenly he was there before Tiger could even get both feet on the tarmac.

“Tiger!” Dick all but yelled, and Tiger looked at him with no small amount of puzzlement. “You’re back!”

“Yes, I am…?” Tiger raised an eyebrow at him, and Dick did his best to compose himself, trying to put on a straight, serious face.

“Can we talk? Uh, in private?”

Tiger still looked reticent. “I have to debrief with Matron,” he said.

“That can wait.”

“Can you wait?”

“No, I can’t wait.” Dick insisted. He was worried that if he got in his head any more, if he could overthink this any more, he would chicken out, and then he would be left wondering for the rest of his life.

Tiger sighed. “Fine. Let’s go.”

He shouldered past Dick towards the academy without another word, and Dick trailed behind him. Tiger led them inside to where the agent’s boarding was, and down a hall Dick had never seen before.

Dick didn’t bother to ask where they were going; it was pretty clear already.

They came to a door. Tiger unlocked it and waved Dick inside. He locked it again behind them. Dick looked around.

It was a pretty standard looking Spyral agent bedroom, pretty much identical to his. Completely undecorated. Like him, the occupant of this room probably didn’t consider this place their home, and so never put any effort into making the space feel like such.

‘If Tiger doesn’t think of this place as home, then what does he think of as home?’ Dick thought. He turned back to face Tiger, who was leaning back against the door, arms crossed over his chest.

Before Dick could even open his mouth to say his piece, the other man spoke.

“If you want to put in a request to Matron for a new partner, I won’t object. In fact, that might be for the best.”

“What?” Dick frowned, confused dread twisting suddenly in his gut. Tiger kept talking.

“If you don’t want to be around me anymore after what happened, I understand. I may admittedly have looser morals than you and your crowd do, but there are some things even I would never do. Assaulting someone is at the top of that list. So—“

“Wait, wait wait,” Dick cut him off. “Tiger, that is not it. If I wasn’t on board I wouldn’t have dragged it out longer than was strictly necessary. I really appreciate your concern, more than you know, but seriously, that’s not what happened. Trust me.”

Tiger looked confused. “But—“

“Besides, didn’t I say in the car that that wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but… you just seemed very uncomfortable and I assumed—“

“I really was just confused. I didn’t just say that to try and make you feel better.”

Tiger frowned, looking even more confused. “Wait,” he said, “now this is me assuming again, but I thought you were… not straight.”

Dick laughed. “No, not gay panic confused, I was confused because of— something else.” He sighed.

“Look, I have… issues. Many issues, that I may or may not tell you about later. Basically, I don’t usually like sexual contact, or most contact that usually leads to sexual contact— I mean, well, just kissing is usually fine, but, like, okay, wait, I’m getting off track.” Dick cleared his throat, then looked Tiger in the eyes, determined to convey his sincerity as much as he possibly could. “What happened between us on that mission… I liked it. I really, really liked it. And I was wondering if… maybe… you’d like to… do it again? Maybe even, you know, do a little more?”

When Tiger didn’t answer right away, Dick coughed and shrugged, looking down. “Or, you know, if you don’t then that’s fine, we can just pretend none of this ever happened and keep on being partners and nothing more, or—“

“Dick.” Tiger was the one to cut him off, this time, and Dick blinked at the use of his first name. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Tiger call him by just his first name before. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

Dick smiled tentatively. “Sort of a… well, you keep insisting we are not friends, even though you’re totally wrong and we totally are, I guess a… coworkers-with-benefits type of arrangement?”

A moment passed where Tiger just looked at him, and Dick could almost see the cogs turning in his head as he considered Dick’s offer. Finally:

“Okay.”

Dick grinned, excitement pushing his heartbeat into overdrive already. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” Tiger finally uncrossed his arms and took a step forward. “I would be lying if I said I had never thought about this.”

He took another step towards Dick, and, the room already being fairly small, this put them very close together. Tiger lightly touched the inside of Dick’s wrist, and Dick trailed his other hand up Tiger’s arm to his shoulder. “You wanna do this right now?” Dick asked, his voice pitched down a little, desperately hoping the answer was yes and Tiger wasn’t just teasing him.

“If you’d like.” Tiger’s voice was also a little deeper than usual, a little lower, not quite a whisper… and his eyes had this glint in them, that made them seem darker than their usual brown. Seductive was the word he was looking for. Dick shivered.

Yeah, this was a great idea. Well, it still was a bad idea, but it was also a good idea, if that made sense. A good bad idea.

“I’d like that very much,” Dick said, but then he blinked, coming back down to earth a little. “Wait, what about your debrief with Matron?”

Tiger’s arms slid around Dick’s waist and pulled him closer. “It can wait,” he said, “May I kiss you?”

Dick shivered. “Please do.”

Over an hour later, Dick laid back against the pillows on Tiger’s bed, flushed and sweaty and gasping for air and feeling like he’d just witnessed the creation of the universe. Tiger all but collapsed next to him, equally dishevelled, and Dick felt a thrill at knowing he’d managed to get the ever cool, aloof, great Tiger King Of Kandahar into that state.

“I’ll have you know,” Dick said, chest still heaving like he’d ran a marathon, as Tiger pulled the blanket up over them. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing. You know, the whole casual thing. You’re just special.”

Tiger hummed and propped himself up on one elbow to hover over Dick. “Lucky me,” he all but purred, stroking a thumb across Dick’s cheek, and Dick felt his heart flutter in a way that had nothing to do with the amount of activity he’d just done for the past hour.

They moved in silently, surrounding the lab on all sides. Tiger gave the signal, and the agents moved again, slipping in past the alarms and security, following Dick’s lead inside

As much as there were many aspects of being a spy that Dick did not enjoy at all, this was pretty firmly in his comfort zone. Stealth missions were familiar territory.

Of course, the next phase wasn’t very stealthy at all, but the former vigilante would cross that bridge when he got to it.

Until then, Dick snuck through the facility towards the main security office, tailed by four more agents backing him up.

Neutralizing the security guards in the office and taking control of the building was easy. They hardwired the distress alarm so it wouldn’t go off when they destroyed the lab, and Dick sent the all clear signal to Tiger and his team.

Then he was out the door and making his way to the main lab, this time not caring for stealth— now, time was of the essence. He took down security guards as he went. He left the unconscious bodies like a trail of breadcrumbs behind him, knowing Tiger’s team would be sweeping the halls and clearing everyone out of the building.

He hadn’t even needed to pull his gun yet, instead continuing to use his signature escrima sticks— he was glad Spyral let him use them.

Dick slid down the ramp leading underground towards the lab and took a running head start once the door was in sight. He aimed a flying kick and busted the door right in off its hinges with a thunderous bang.

“Sorry to crash the party,” Dick smirked even though he knew none of the shocked software engineers inside could see his facial expression, brandishing his escrimas, “but—“

He was cut off by Tiger and his team coming in behind him.

“Enough of your quips, 37.” Tiger said, then, to the room at large, “You’re all under arrest. I suggest you come quietly— struggling will be futile and no one is going to come for you if you scream.”

Tiger barely even had to point his gun at the room of scientists for them to immediately drop what they were doing and raise their hands in surrender. The other agents started filing them out of the room, and Dick went over to the main computer to get to work just as a large metal crate was wheeled in.

This lab had way more thorough security measures than Guillespe’s desktop did, that was for sure-- for one, getting into the main computer was a little more complicated than a simple password. And surely there would be more roadblocks and traps to come-- but Dick was prepared for those.

Dick focused on getting into the computer while Tiger directed his agents to wheel the crate over to near the computer system where Dick was working and open it up. Inside was one of the three bombs they were going to use to blow up the facility. He watched out of the corner of his eye as they got it set up and ready to go. Tiger walked over and watched over Dick’s shoulder as he kept working at the computer.

“You’re confident you’ll get out with the plans in time?”

To the untrained ear it just sounded like Tiger was reaffirming the mission was set to go smoothly, but Dick was no untrained ear. He smiled up at his partner.

“Aw, don’t you worry ‘bout lil’ ol’ me, Tony,” He said, saccharinely sweet, even reaching up to pat Tiger on the cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

“Ugh,” Tiger pulled back with a groan of disgust. “Don’t call me that. Just keep your comm in and don’t do anything stupid, you idiot.”

“How could I?” Dick gestured to the computer. Beside them, the other agents finished setting up the bomb and got it online. “What could I fuck up from here?”

“I’m sure you could find plenty.” Tiger retorted, then pressed a finger to his comm to check in with the rest of his team and the bombs. “Is everything synced up?”

He must have gotten affirmatives, because then he nodded at the other agents, and they all left the room, probably to finish clearing the building while they still had time. Tiger made to follow them out, then turned back to Dick.

“Remember--” Tiger pointed a stern, bordering on menacing finger at him, “The mission protocol. If you do not have enough time to download the plans and get out, then evacuate immediately. Don’t be a self-sacrificing idiot. Understand?”

Dick laughed. “Aw, Agent 1,” he crooned. “Careful. I might start to think you care about me.”

Tiger scoffed and turned away once more. “Of course not. I am not attached to you, we are partners, not friends.”

“Partners with benefits,” Dick reminded him, just to be annoying. Tiger smacked him upside the head.

“You’re wasting time,” he grumbled, and left without another word.

As soon as Dick was alone in the room he spun around in the chair, the smile falling from his face and replaced with a more somber one.

You cared about your last partner, he thought bitterly. And look how badly I managed to fuck that up for you.

There had been too many variables, too many unknowns for him to have been able to form a solid plan on how to destroy the tech plans and make it seem like he hadn’t done it on purpose, so he was going to have to do a lot of improvising.

He glanced at the clock on the bomb. It had started counting down already-- they were on a tight schedule, Spyral could only hang around here for so long before someone noticed-- but there was still plenty of time. There should have still been plenty of time.

Dick went back to work on hacking into the computer. He had to make it seem like he at least tried, after all.

Things had been going perfectly well, everyone had been arrested and cleared out of the building on time, the bombs had been set up and were set to go off on time, all the other agents had gotten out on time, and according to Dick’s last update he would also be done and out on time. But still, a sense of unease followed Tiger as he paced just outside the blast zone at the entrance to the facility. He checked the remote detonator in his hand-- there were only two and a half minutes left on the timer before the bombs would go off. He frowned and looked back at the open entrance, then back down at the timer.

He didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but he thought having Dick alone in there was a glaring flaw in the plan-- not even for logistical reasons. It was exactly as Dick teased him about earlier-- he was worried.

Dick should be out by now-- down to two minutes, and it would take that long, even running at top speed, for Dick to make it from the main lab to the entrance and out of the blast zone.

Something wasn’t right. He activated his comm and was about to demand another update when suddenly a blast door slid shut over the entrance to the facility, inside, through the quickly closing gap, a red light was flashing that had not been before, and they could distantly hear an alarm. Tiger and the other agents yelled out, running back to the entrance, but it shut before they got there.

Damnit, Tiger thought, gritting his teeth. “Damnit!” He repeated out loud. Then into his comm, “Agent 37, what is going on down there! Agent 37, respond!”

“Okay, that should be about it…” Dick muttered to himself. “Just gotta plug in and…”

He’d managed to get through all the different layers and levels of security right on schedule, all while brainstorming stories of failsafes and corrupted files, and was finally ready to enact the final step of the plan. He pulled the USB out of his pocket and plugged it into the computer-- and that was where things went wrong.

All of a sudden every screen in the whole lab turned red-- and the lights overhead turned red and started flashing, and an alarm started blaring so loud Dick had to cover his ears.

“Shit, what the fuck!” Dick yelled over the blaring siren, looking back at the main screen-- there was a message displayed in large black text over the red background. ‘UNAUTHORIZED DATA READER INSERTED. INITIATING FAILSAFE 22B-1’

“Fuck!” Dick heard a sudden heavy metal thunk behind him, and looked over his shoulder to see a secondary blast door had closed over the entrance to the lab. “Fuck!”

He ran over and started looking for a way to get the door open just as his comm crackled to life.

“Agent 37, what is going on down there! Agent 37, respond!” Tiger roared in his ear. Dick could barely hear him over the alarm.

“Uh,” Dick shouted back, still scrutinizing every inch on the seal of the door. “I think I’m trapped inside!”

“Inside the building?”

“Inside the main lab! There was a second emergency door that closed over the doorway, and I can’t get it open and I don’t have anything to break it open with!”

“Fuck!” Dick heard Tiger yell through the comms.

“Fuck!” Tiger yelled. He reared on the agent closest to him. “Get this door open!”

“Agent 1, with all due respect--” the agent replied, “There’s only one minute left before the bombs go off. Even if we could get the door open, we wouldn’t be able to get Agent 37 out in time.”

Another agent pitched in-- extremely unhelpfully, in Tiger’s opinion. “We need to clear out of the blast zone.”

Tiger snarled, and spun away from the door, following the rest of the team back out of the blast zone towards the shuttle. Blood was roaring in his ears, he could feel the tips of his fingers tingling with oncoming numbness. Dick is going to die, he thought helplessly, trying not to choke on it. He’s going to die.

“Agent-- Grays-- Dick,” Tiger said into his comm. “I-- I’m sorry… we--”

Well, Dick thought to himself with a sort of detached humour, this is one fine pickle I’ve gotten myself into.

The seconds on the bomb kept ticking down closer to zero. Dick looked back at the computer, the flashing screen, and back at the bomb. He sighed, far calmer than someone in his situation ought to be. But, if this was the end… well, this was the end.

Resigned to the knowledge he wasn’t getting out of there, Dick walked away from the door and slipped under the desk furthest from the main computer, tucking himself into a neat little ball in the tight space.

“Agent-- Grays-- Dick. I-- I’m sorry… we--”

“I know, Tiger.” Dick said. “It’s okay.”

He couldn’t see the timer on the bomb from there, but he knew there were only seconds left. He closed his eyes. “I--”

The first thing Dick felt when he woke up was confused. The second thing he felt was pain.

He cracked one eye open against the bright white lights above him, trying and probably failing to stifle a groan of extreme discomfort. It took a second for him to realize someone was there, and that someone was talking to him. He slowly, slowly and painfully, turned his head-- his neck was in some kind of semi-brace-- to the side.

Helena was standing to his right, looking over some kind of clipboard in her hand. “You sustained severe internal and external damage from both the blast and the whole building falling down on top of you,” she was saying. “Some burns, mostly lacerations, broken bones and damaged organs. Both your legs are broken-- your right tibia and your left femur, and so is your collarbone and your left humerus. Several ribs. We had to do extensive surgery on your knee, it was all kinds of messed up. Your lungs were severely damaged, one punctured by a rib. Your stomach was also damaged, but not punctured, and you can thank God that your spine is still completely intact.”

She finished her speech, setting the clipboard aside and finally actually looking Dick in the eye. “But despite all that, somehow, you’re expected to make a full recovery. Welcome back to the land of the living, 37.”

There was a hint of a smile in her eye. Dick squinted at her, still struggling to comprehend pretty much everything. All of that went completely unprocessed. “...Huh?” His throat and tongue both felt like sandpaper.

Helena blinked, and looked at her watch. “Oh, your painkillers are probably worn off by now,” She said. “I’ll give you another dose.”

“N--no, I don’t need--” Dick tried to protest on instinct, but the second he tried to move sparks of pain went rocketing up and down his entire body, and he couldn’t stifle his cry of pain this time. Helena nodded.

“I’m giving you another dose.”

Dick watched, detached and still confused, as she administered the painkillers. “So… I’m not dead?”

Helena couldn’t help her smile this time. “No, you’re not dead,” she laughed. “You have the big guy over here to thank for that.”

She pointed towards the other side of the bed, (Dick only just then registered he was in a hospital bed in a private room in the medbay) and Dick-- slowly-- turned his head to look. To his shock, slumped over in the hard plastic chair and fast asleep, was Tiger.

“You have no idea how many agents’ heads he almost bit off demanding we dig you out of there.” Helena continued. “He yelled at me, too, when you got back. A lot. The man has balls of steel. And a soft spot for you, it would seem.”

This time her smile was a little softer, a little indulgent. “I understand the feeling. He refused to go and rest pretty much the entire time you were in surgery-- we could hardly even get him to sit down. He didn’t crash until it was confirmed, with certainty, that you were stable and going to pull through.”

Dick looked back at Tiger with no small amount of wonderment in his eyes. Helena reached down and patted his undamaged shoulder. “Get some more rest, now. I’ll save your debriefing for until you’re a little more lucid.”

With that she turned on her sharp heel and stepped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Dick watched her go and then turned his head again (moving was easier now that the meds were kicking in) to rest his gaze on Tiger’s sleeping form. He tried to remember if he had ever actually seen Tiger sleep before.

Tiger ducked and sheilded his eyes on instinct when the building exploded, despite knowing they were out of range of debris. He stared at the site as the explosions continued to light up the night sky and tear the building apart, the ground around it ripping up and caving in on itself, knowing and not caring about the openly distraught expression that was surely on his face.

Everyone else watched in silence, and Tiger fought the urge to fall to his knees in the sand.

Dick… no…

No.

Suddenly Tiger face hardened and he clenched his fists, turning back to his team before the dust had even settled.

“Agent 14,” He snapped. “Call in backup, we’re going to need debris removal hardware and a full search team.”

Lucky for everyone around, the agent didn’t protest or question him, just ducked immediately into the shuttle to contact HQ. Tiger turned back to the destroyed facility, determination pulling the lines of his body stiff like stone.

I’m not losing another partner tonight, he thought. I refuse.

I am not losing him.

Tiger jolted awake, jerking in the chair and almost punching himself in the face when the hand he’d propped his cheek on slipped. He shook his head, trying to clear it of lingering bad memories that had chased him into sleep, and caught his eye on movement from the hospital bed before him.

Dick was awake, eyes wide open and slowly trying to reach towards him with his-- mostly-- uninjured arm--

Dick was awake!!!

He almost fell out of his chair, spared a second to feel embarrassed by his displays of clumsiness, and grabbed Dick’s hand out of the air, placing it back at the man’s side on the bed.

“Grayson--” Tiger resisted stuttering when Dick didn’t let him retract his hand, his grip surprisingly strong for someone who had just survived an explosion. “You-- you… idiot.”

He seethed suddenly. “Didn’t I tell you not to do anything stupid! Didn’t I give you clear and strict orders not to--” He cut himself off when he saw Dick start to smile, then smile wider, then start to laugh.

It was a soft and raspy thing, Dick’s voice rough from lack of use in the days he had remained unconscious and sedated, by no objective terms should it have been beautiful in any way--

And yet--

And yet…

Tiger looked away. “Stop that,” He muttered. “Stop it. You could have died. You were going to die. You-- I--”

Words failed him, and Dick’s expression softened. “Sorry,” he said. Not teasing. Not poking fun at anything. Just genuinely apologetic for making Tiger worried, for making Tiger upset. Tch. As if it had actually been his fault at all… no one had predicted the lab would seal itself.

“Idiot,” Tiger said, squeezing Dick’s hand before he could think better of it. It was the only thing he could think to say. Dick grinned again.

“Pretty badass that you yelled at Helena,” he said, and Tiger blinked-- how did he know about that?-- “And you… well, you saved my life. Again. That’s two I owe you now, right? I should say thank you.”

Tiger looked down, finally tuggung his hand free of Dick’s-- and immediately missed the contact. “Idiot,” he muttered again. “You don’t owe me anything. Now get some more rest.” He stood from the chair, and Dick obediently settled back into the pillows.

Tiger walked around the bed towards the door, and made to leave, but paused despite himself in the open doorway. “I’m… glad you’re alright, Dick.” He whispered, unsure if Dick would even hear it. Then he flicked the light off and left, closing the door behind him. He didn’t look back.

And with that he let go, dropping the screaming merchant down into the sea. He fell in the water with a splash, his head re-appearing above the surface once, twice, before he bobbed down and did not come back up.

Not one thread of remorse tugged at Tiger’s heart as he walked to the captain’s cabin, whistling a little on his way down the stairs. This sort of thing was normal for him. Killing, stealing... that was simply what his life had become. He did not regret it-- he couldn't.

If Tiger ever let himself regret, he knew it would consume him. His mistakes were irreparable.

The door was locked, as the merchant said it would be, but Tiger was far from discouraged. He aimed a mighty kick at the door and it collapsed with a bang, falling into the room in splintered pieces. He walked into the room, feeling quite satisfied with himself. He only made it maybe about two steps before he stopped dead and the feeling dropped, as he spotted what could have only been what the merchant meant as his greatest treasure.

In the middle of the room sat a small glass box, with no top and filled with water. Sitting inside, scrunched up and visibly uncomfortable in his confines, was a merman.

Tiger could do nothing but stare. The merman was looking at him with wide, shocked eyes, eyes that were an unnaturally bright shade of blue, shining even in the dim light of the captain’s cabin. The top of the glass box came up to just under his arms, which were draped over and holding on to the edge of the case. His hair was sleek and black like coal and curled around the base of his skull and his pointed ears, which looked as though they’d at one point had many piercings in them, though the merman wore no jewelry.

He was also covered in bruises, cuts, and scrapes along the back of his arms, his torso and gilled neck. Two nasty looking bruises marred his face at the right corner of his mouth and just underneath his left eye. What looked like rope burns criss-crossed his otherwise smooth, cinnamon-brown skin, and there were places on his tail, curled up and stuffed in the box as it was, where it looked like some of his scales had been torn off, leaving patches of swollen red muscle exposed. That, and the pain clear in the merman’s eyes, made it all a terrible sight, and Tiger felt sick to think that the merchant’s most valuable possession was a sentient, living being obviously kept here against his will.

He was glad he’d killed him.

Suddenly the merman extended a hand to him, reaching out as far as he could from the glass case, and Tiger nearly jumped back in surprise.

“Can you help me?” said the merman, and Tiger was taken aback by how clear and strong his voice was, contrary to his posture. “Please, help me.”

Tiger stood frozen in place. The merman leaned out of the case, reaching harder towards him, extending his arm as far as it could go. “Please.” There was an almost desperate edge to the word. Something in the merman’s eyes drew Tiger forward, as if in a trance. He approached the case, and the merman grabbed him by the hand, tugging him closer. Tiger was pretty sure he himself was still in a state of shock as he was pulled down to his knees on the floor next to the merman.

Of course, he knew, in theory, that merpeople existed, but he had never seen one before, even in all his years at sea. They hardly ever came up to the surface. Rare, elusive creatures, merpeople were.

“How did you get here?” Tiger asked. The merman looked away as if in shame.

“I... was exploring, too close to the shore. I got caught in a fisherman’s net and I tried to get away but-- then the fisherman brought me onto land and sold me to the man who owns this ship. And now I’m so far from home, and I don’t know how to get back, I don’t think I could make the trip on my own anyway, injured as I am…” The merman looked at him again imploringly. “Please, help me get back to my family. I can promise you a great reward if you do.”

Tiger regarded the merman curiously. “What kind of reward?”

“Riches beyond your wildest dreams,” Said the merman, looking Tiger in the eye, in such a way that Tiger couldn’t help but believe him. “My father is a king, and I am his eldest son. He will pay you so handsomely if you were to bring me home.”

Tiger’s eyebrows raised. This merman was a prince? Then helping him really would be in Tiger’s best interest.

“Alright, I will help you.” He said, and the merman’s face lit up with a smile. “Where is your home?”

“West, very far west.” The merman squeezed Tiger’s hand. “It is quite the journey. Thank you.”

Tiger frowned at his expression of gratitude. “I have not helped you yet.”

The merman smiled at him. “True.” He said. “Why don’t you start by getting me out of this damn box?”

He lifted his arms up in a way that made Tiger think of a small child demanding to be carried. He huffed, grabbing the merman under his arms and lifting him up into the air. Tiger let out an involuntary wheeze. The merman was far heavier than he had expected him to be— and he even had the audacity to snicker at Tiger’s struggle.

“What’s your name?” The merman said, unbothered as he flopped about while Tiger struggled to lift and get a proper hold on him-- not only was he heavy, he was slippery too. He wrapped his arms around Tiger’s neck.

“Tiger.” Tiger grunted. The merman smiled.

“My name is Dick.”

Tiger hefted Dick up so the merman’s torso was draped over his shoulders like a fine scarf, his tail looped loosely around his arm and hanging down towards the floor, but not dragging. He mumbled an apology when Dick hissed in pain at the sudden pressure on his bruised ribs.

He started walking towards the door now that he was balanced properly, but Dick stopped him.

“Wait,” he said, pointing at an ornate coffer on the desk. “My crown.”

Tiger redirected his steps to the desk. He clicked the coffer open, and Dick reached down to retrieve it contents.

First he pulled out a pair of earrings— three fat, shimmering blue pearls (Tiger didn’t know pearls could be that colour, or size, but maybe it was a bottom-of-the-ocean thing) on a sharp hook that he put carefully through the holes in his earlobes.

Next was a long, complicated, looping strand of pearls that matched the earrings. Tiger didn’t find out what they were for, because instead of putting them on Dick handed the tangled strand to Tiger, who shoved it in his pocket.

Last was a crown unlike any Tiger had seen or heard of before. It looked like thin, twining vines made of pure gold, decorated in some of the empty spaces between with smaller versions of the rest of the merman’s pearls. It was magnificent, and Tiger was sure, then, that Dick would make good on his promise of a reward.

They left that evening. Tiger told Helena what he had to do, and she gave him her blessing to go on the journey with a twinkle in her eye that Tiger could not explain if he tried. Unfortunately Helena-- and her ship-- were going in the opposite direction Dick and Tiger wanted, so Tiger placed the merman in a lifeboat, poured only just enough water into the bottom to keep Dick from drying out, and off they went.

Dick could not simply swim across the ocean, just as Tiger could not simply walk across Asia, especially not injured. So Tiger planned to make their way to the coast, claim a ship for their own by whatever means they deemed fit, one large enough to safely sail across the Atlantic, and get to Dick’s home that way.

“Does the salt not hurt you?” Tiger asked in the middle of his rowing (he would have made Dick row as well, so he wouldn’t have to do all the work himself, if not for the fact that Dick did not have the limbs necessary to brace himself in the boat to do so). Dick looked up from where he was trailing his arm along in the water, feeling the current as their little lifeboat moved through the blessedly calm waves.

“What do you mean?” He said.

“The salt of the water, in your cuts. Doesn’t it hurt?”

Dick frowned at him. “No? Why? Does salt hurt humans?”

“Of course. It stings wickedly, when it gets in an open wound.”

Dick hummed, considering this. “Humans are very strange.”

Tiger scoffed. Perhaps that was true, and the human body was, in fact, quite strange, but Tiger didn’t think it could be any stranger than that of a merperson. He did not voice that thought, though, only continued to row through the small waves. Dick turned his attention back down to the water, watching it ripple around his arm. He leaned down to rest his chin on the back of his hand on the edge of the boat. He had a serene look on his face, like all his troubles had disappeared with his newfound proximity to the ocean.

Tiger was not as happy about it. He’d discovered within seconds that the water they’d placed in the bottom of the boat would very quickly soak through his boots, and so he was barefoot, feet wet. At least this lifeboat had seats, so he was not soaking his pants as well.

It was while the sun was starting to set and he was starting to feel the ache in his arms that it fully struck Tiger just how much he was doing for this strange creature he’d just met.

The thought came to him along with a strong sense of unease. While Tiger had never met a merperson before that day, he had heard plenty, including stories of merpeople putting sailors under spells, luring them to a watery death with their sweet voices and wicked smiles. Could this merman have put Tiger under his will?

But no, Tiger shook the notion away almost as soon as it occurred to him. He was just being paranoid.

If Dick had wanted to drown him, he’d had ample time to do it already.

But still, Tiger thought as he eyed the curve of Dick’s spine and the way his full, soft-looking lips parted slightly around a quiet sigh, maybe there was another reason he was so eager to help him. Aside from the promise of a reward, that is. He felt his gaze wander as if of its own accord across the merman’s figure, lingering, examining the way the setting sun reflected off Dick’s eyes, and glinted on the pearls draped over his body. (He found out what that other mess of pearls was for-- it was almost like a necklace, with strands that hung around his neck, shoulders and torso, and connected at various places, including over his sternum, the nape of his neck, and the small of his back.)

Tiger would have to be completely blind not to notice Dick’s beauty, regardless of his injuries. He could almost understand why the merchant had wanted to put him on display-- but as soon as the thought occurred to him he banished it, a dark feeling coiling in his gut at the prospect of relating on any level to the scum that had kept this person, prefix of mer irrelevant, captive. He redoubled his rowing efforts as if he could run from the shame, and kept his eyes from then on fixed on the horizon.

He thought of Dick’s injuries-- and did not look-- and felt sick at the idea of objectifying him like the ones who had done that to him had.

“Why are you doing this?” Tiger repeated. “With me, I mean—  I understood when you were still in Spyral and had no other options, but now… why would you be so intimate with a monster like me when you could have anyone you wanted?” 

“Is that what you think?” Dick frowned, but Tiger was already pulling away more, out from under him, to sit on the other side of the mattress. Facing away from Dick. Dick followed, planting a hand on Tiger’s shoulder to keep him there. “Tiger, what are you talking about?” 

Tiger didn’t answer, just turned his head away. Dick’s frown deepened. How long had this been on Tiger’s mind? 

“Tiger… did it occur to you that maybe you’re the one that I want?”

That was the wrong thing to say. It must have been, judging by Tiger’s reaction. He stood up, forcefully shaking off Dick’s hand, which he snatched back like he’d been burned. Tiger reared to face Dick, his expression stormy and confused and— something. 

“But why!? You deserve so much more than I can— you—“ Tiger growled in frustration. He clenched his fists. “You’re so good, Richard! So pure and good and you should hardly be able to stand being in the same room as me, let alone touch me the way you— like you—“ 

Tiger cut himself off and looked away. “Every time I touch you I’m afraid I’m… ruining you, tainting you with all the blood on my hands. Like I’m slowly poisoning you and by the time we’re done with this thing we have there will be nothing good left of you.”

A moment passed in silence, then another, and another, as Dick stared at Tiger and Tiger glared down at the floor. 

“You’re not a monster, Tig.” Dick eventually said, his voice heavy and leaving no room for argument. Tiger made room. 

“How can you say that, knowing what you know, what you’ve seen of me!? And there’s still so much you don’t know, there’s so much—“ 

“Tiger!” Dick stood from the bed. He stared Tiger down, summoning his most commanding energy, shutting down Tiger’s freak-out before it could spiral out of control. 

Dick sighed. “You remember how we first met, right?” 

“Yes…” 

“You saved my life, Tiger.” Dick said matter-of-factly. “You weren’t supposed to be anywhere near that bridge. You didn’t have backup. But you were there, and you saved me.” 

“I don’t see what—“

“You went out of your way, even risked your own life to save someone you had never even met. That’s not something a monster of a person would do, or even think of doing. That was the first impression I ever got of you, and I always remembered it, no matter how bitter and mean and aggressive you acted afterwards.” 

Tiger said nothing. Dick kept going. 

“I’ve known my fair share of people like you, Tiger. Who make themselves feel and seem unlovable, to justify their fear of actually being loved.” 

Tiger jolted like he’d been electrocuted, his wide eyes snapping back up to Dick. Dick kept going.

“I know you think you don’t deserve it—“ 

“Stop doing that.” Tiger snapped. Dick tilted his head at him. 

“Doing what?” 

“Reading my mind.” 

Dick sighed. “I’m not reading your mind, I just know you. And, I really care about you, and I want you to be happy. And I want you to know that you’re not a monster, you’re a good person despite what you’ve been trained to believe, and… you deserve to be loved.” 

“You talk a lot about love.” Tiger said, quietly. “What we do is just sex. We’re not in love.”

This time it was Dick’s turn to flinch. Heat creeped back up to his face, to his cheeks, but kept going higher, settling behind his eyes, where he started to feel an ever-dreaded prickling sensation. Ow, fuck. Okay, so that’s how it is.

(Damnit, Dick knew from the very start this was a bad idea, he knew it would end in tears.) 

“Well, maybe you’re not.” He whispered, then as soon as the last syllable left his mouth he was spinning around and grabbing the few clothes he’d already shed and pulling them back on. He ignored Tiger’s confused noises behind him, and ignored when Tiger told him to wait. 

He was almost out the hotel room’s door when Tiger grabbed his arm. All the air rushed from his lungs when the other man spun him around and pushed him back against the door, and not just because of the impact. 

The look in Tiger’s eyes was so intense, so fierce and bright and almost impossibly hopeful, yet that something that Dick was now certain was fear still simmered beneath. Tiger’s hold on him tightened, and Dick felt his heartbeat speed up.

“You love me?” Tiger whispered, like he couldn’t believe it, like it didn’t make sense to him. And, judging by what he’d said tonight, that could very well be the case. “You…” 

“Yeah, I do. How could you think I didn’t? Tiger, I’ve told you things about myself I’ve told hardly anyone, I’ve been vulnerable with you about things that I… after all this time, and everything we’ve shared-- you think I would do this kind of thing with someone-- you think I would do any of this if I didn’t feel anything?? I don’t do casual sex. You know that.” Dick looked incredulously up at the man pinning him to the door. He’d really, honestly thought his feelings had been obvious. With all the times he’d clung to Tiger, cuddled with him every chance he got-- and more than once they had spent the whole night not doing anything more than cuddle because Dick had had a shit day and just wanted to be held, nothing more r-rated than that. He’d told Tiger about his thoughts and fears and dreams, and done everything he could to just get closer, always trying to get closer. 

And sure, you could do those things with a close friend. But all that mixed in with the explicit nature of most of their encounters over the last year and a half, it was like Dick had been trying to catch feelings. 

(Granted, the feelings had already been a little bit caught before he even proposed this arrangement, but that was neither here nor there.)

Tiger at least had the sense to look a little chastised. “I… suspected, but, I couldn’t let myself believe it.” He started to pull away, but Dick was quick to grab him and pull him back in. 

“So you…?” 

“Yes.” Tiger confessed. “I-- I do-- love you. I have for a long time. I can’t stop it. It-- it’s the most terrifying thing I have ever felt.”

Dick smiled despite himself. “Is that why you have so many doubts about the fact that I want you like this?” He stroked a hand along Tiger’s cheek, over his carefully trimmed beard. The other man subtly leaned into the touch, and Dick’s smile widened.

“I don’t deserve to love and be loved by you. I’m--”

“You’re not a monster. And you do deserve to love and be loved, regardless of your past.” Dick leaned up and pressed a short and sweet kiss to Tiger’s lips. Tiger followed when he pulled back, drawing the kiss out, deepening it. Dick hummed happily when Tiger ran a hand through his hair, lightly tugging at the strands. 

They pulled away, Dick smiling, and Tiger looking, at the very least, calmer. “Hey,” Dick said, and Tiger’s eyes snapped back up to meet his. “I love you.” 

Tiger blushed— actually blushed— and Dick giggled. “Now come on,” Dick slipped easily out of Tiger’s hold and tugged the man back over towards the bed. “I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve that I think you’ve earned, big man.” 

“Wait—“ Tiger grabbed Dick’s hand, and Dick paused. “I love you, too.”

The mansion was, for lack of a better term, fancy as fuck. Dick took it in as he stepped out of the car and up to the main entrance. It wasn’t as large as, say, Wayne manor, but where Wayne manor was elegant and classic, Marco Guillespe’s home was over the top and ornate and gaudy. Dick wasn’t that impressed.He’d seen it all before. The Guillespe family were relatively new money and liked to show it off in every way they could, no biggie, nothing new. They just had to get in, blend it, find the information Spyral wanted and get out. Over all, pretty simple mission parameters. 

Spyral knew Marco Guillespe had commissioned a group of scientists to build some kind of new, crazy advanced, cartoonishly evil, surveillance technology, and they suspected he wanted to sell it to major megacorporations for a phat profit. Dick and Tiger’s job was to find the paper trail proving it, so they could track down the lab where the tech was being developed. And hopefully, destroy it.

But Dick knew in this line of work that nothing ever stayed simple, and that was wishful thinking. More likely Spyral would just steal the plans and use them for themselves. He hoped he’d be able to prevent that without losing his place at Spyral and fucking up Bruce’s mission-- or without losing his life. 

From what little they’d been told, this tech is the kind of tech that simply should not exist. 

Dick watched Tiger walk in a little ways before him-- they’d attract less attention at this party as a team if they appeared to not have met before tonight-- and had to admit the guy cleaned up well. Obviously it wasn’t a surprise, and Dick had been well aware that Tiger was handsome, very handsome, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate it a litte. Or a lot.

The ballroom inside where all the guests were gathered was just as overdone as the rest of the mansion. They were celebrating some business success, Dick thought. He didn’t remember as many details from that part of the briefing. He did, however, remember the plan-- go in, mingle, find Tiger and touch base, find the intel, make their exit. 

Luckily, Dick was well versed in this kind of thing, going to fancy parties and pretending like he was enjoying himself. It was the main reason he was chosen for this mission. Tiger, on the other hand, he was more worried about. Yes, Tiger was a great actor, but he wasn’t as in his element here as Dick was. He was usually chosen for more direct missions, more front lines kind of things, than ones that involved this much...  posturing.

Ah, well. He’d be fine. Until it was time to check in, Dick was going to check out those hors d’œuvres he saw coming in. 

The hour passed fairly uneventfully, but Dick knew their window of opportunity to sneak about would be coming soon. He excused himself from the polite but dreadfully boring small talk he’d been making with another one of the guests and went looking for Tiger. 

It was easy to pick out the other spy’s tall and broad frame from the crowd of socialites, hovering by one of the pillars near the wall, half-empty champagne glass in hand. (Obviously he wouldn’t have drank any of it, had just been pretending to be drinking). Dick sauntered over to him and slid right into his personal space. 

“May I have this dance?” Dick drawled, holding his hand out for Tiger to take. Tiger raised an eyebrow at him, and without looking placed his glass on a tray held by a nearby circling waiter. 

“Certainly,” he said, and took Dick’s hand, only to immediately and easily flip opt over so it was technically him leading Dick to the dance floor. They made their way to the centre of the crowd of people dancing and fell smoothly into the waltz the band was playing, Dick’s hand clasped in Tigers and resting on Tiger’s shoulder, Tiger’s other hand only lightly holding his waist.

Dick tried not to let his surprise show when Tiger led them in the dance with both ease and grace, all the while aloof and professional. It was a pleasant surprise. Though he should have honestly expected it, Tiger was ridiculously skilled and competent; of course he would know how to dance. 

But Dick’s steps didn’t falter, and he and Tiger glided smoothly across the dance floor. Out of the corner of his eye, Dick spied the nearest few guards hovering in the shadows. Confident their attention was not focused on him and his dance partner, he pressed closer to Tiger so they were chest to chest and leaned up. 

Tiger’s eyes widened and his hold on Dick’s waist tightened for a split second before relaxing again, and Dick smirked. He went up onto his toes to whisper into Tiger’s ear. 

“Ready to really get this party started?” 

“If by that you mean move on to the next phase of the mission, in which there will be no partying involved whatsoever, then yes.” Tiger murmured right back, close enough for his breath to tickle the shell of Dick’s ear. “If the security rotation schedule we were given is accurate, our path should be clear in about three minutes.” 

“Perfect. Let’s go, then.” Dick slithered from Tiger’s grasp and made his way, subtly, to the ballroom’s exit, Tiger close on his heels. 

They’d both memorized the layout of the mansion beforehand. They knew exactly where they were going and exactly how to get there as quickly and stealthily as possible. On the way, they each put on a comm, so they could communicate while Dick was hacking Guillespe’s personal computer and Tiger was standing guard.

“You have a five minute window to get that intel.” Tiger said when they reached the door to the billionaire’s office. Dick smirked and rolled up his sleeves. 

“I can do it in three,” he bragged.

Tiger didn’t dignify that with a response other than a scoff and practically shoved Dick into the office, shutting the door behind him. 

Whoever was in here last had left the lights on. Dick rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles as he made his way behind the desk, wasting no time in getting the computer booted up and plugging in the USB he had to download the intel onto. 

The only noises in the room were the quiet hum of the desktop and the quick and steady clacking of keys as Dick hacked into the computer. He started humming as he worked, some tune that had been stuck in his head that morning but he couldn’t figure out quite what it was. 

“Stop humming.” Tiger hissed through the comms. “It’s distracting.” 

Dick grinned even though he knew Tiger couldn’t see it. “Oh, it’s distracting, is it?” He purred, “Agent 1, you saucy man.” 

He heard Tiger groan in frustration. “Distracting in the bad way, you idiot. Just shut up and do your job.” 

“I’m a great multitasker, I can hack and flirt at the same time.” Dick said, as he continued to work on getting into the computer. He almost had it--

“Just because you can does not mean you should. Now shut up before I abandon my post and come make you shut up myself.”

There were a number of things Dick could say in response to that, all varying degrees of flirtatious. But any words he might have been able to spit out to further irritate his partner in sort-of-fighting-crime-sort-of-doing-crime were caught in the back of his throat once he managed to get past the login and was met with the sight of Guillespe’s desktop.

“Oh my… holy disorganized desktop, Batman.” He breathed, covering his mouth in shock. He cringed-- what Guillespe lacked in computer security measures, he made up for by making any specific file on his computer impossible to find in all this mess. Seriously, this was the messiest desktop Dick had ever seen, no doubts, full stop.

“What?”  Tiger asked. Dick started sifting through the files as fast as he could. 

“This… might take a little longer than anticipated.” 

“Well hurry up,” Tiger grumbled. “We’re running out of time.” 

This time Dick actually buckled down and focused, skimming through all the files and folders as fast as possible while still examining each one enough to make sure it was the one they wanted. Porn, porn porn, porn… even more porn. Dick huffed. Jeez. 

A couple of minutes passed before Dick’s comm crackled to life again. “Agent 37, you do realize we only have less than two minutes before we will be able to get back to the ballroom unseen.”

He had only just found the right file-- password locked, because of course-- when the door to the office suddenly opened. Dick’s head jerked up, his pulse racing-- only to see that it was just Tiger.

…

Tiger, who was supposed to be keeping watch.

“Uh, what the fuck?” Dick asked, sparing only a glance before going back to his frantic typing. Tiger hurriedly shut the door behind him. He almost had it, what was going on?!

“Someone’s coming.” Tiger said. He dashed over to where Dick was still working at the computer. “We have to leave now.” 

“Shit, one second, I-- yes!” Dick exclaimed as he got through to the folder. Immediately he smashed that download button, and started loading the files onto the USB. 

Footsteps down the hall, voices. 

Guillespe and his bodyguards. 

Without a doubt coming their way. 

Dick and Tiger both froze, staring at each other. Dick looked back down at the computer-- there were only a couple of seconds left on the download. 

They didn’t have seconds. They were about to be caught, and there was nothing they could do about it. 

The men were coming closer. The files finally finished downloading and Dick ripped the USB out of the port, not caring about ejecting it properly or covering their tracks. They just had to physically get out of there. 

Going as fast as he could, Dick started opening his belt, and Tiger stifled a squawk. “What are you doing?!” 

“I’m putting it in my penis pocket--”

“Your WHAT?!” 

“The-- the pocket at the front of my underwear where my packer goes-- in case they search us--” 

“It doesn’t matter if they search us!” Tiger practically flailed his arms at his partner. As Dick closed all the windows on the computer and shut it down, fly still hanging open and hand still down his pants. “We’re going to be caught red-handed regardless! There’s no way for us to be seen in here that doesn’t--”

Tiger cut himself off, looking over his shoulder at the still-closed door. Guillespe and his men were right outside, they would be coming in at any moment. He looked back at Dick, Dick’s open fly and then back at Dick. Looked over his shoulder again, then back at Dick. Dick looked at Tiger expectantly. Then, suddenly, Tiger lunged forward and grabbed Dick by his arm and dragged him over to the other side of the desk, nearest the door. “Get away from the computer,” he hissed, “I apologize for this in advance.” 

Then the door was cracking open and Tiger was on him, shoving him back against the desk and forcing him to lean back, hand on the back of his neck and on his waist under his suit jacket, and kissing him like-- well, because-- their lives depended on it.

Dick let out a surprised moan and the men coming in made shocked noises of their own. Luckily for Dick, though, he was great at improv-- and it did help that Tiger’s lips on his-- Tiger’s tongue, wow, they were going full method-- were setting all his nerves on fire. Dick moaned again, clutching Tiger closer, feeling like his body was going into overdrive. 

Well, he was giving a very realistic performance, alright. 

“HEY!” The shout from Guillespe shocked them both out of it, and they broke away from the kiss, flushed and panting for breath. Dick looked at the men gathered in the doorway over Tiger’s shoulder and put on as shocked and embarrassed expression as he could. 

“Oh!” He exclaimed, and he and Tiger sprang apart. “So sorry, uh--” He looked down at his fly that was still unzipped and sheepishly pulled it back up, only some of the red on his face faked.

“Just who are you and what are you doing in here!” Guillespe roared. One of his men tapped him on the shoulder as Dick and Tiger continued to feign like they were straightening themselves out after a long and heavy makeout session. 

“They’re party guests, Sir.” The guard said. “I saw them all up on each other on the dance floor earlier, too.” 

This time Dick’s blush was 100% real. “We’re very sorry, Sir,” Dick said sheepishly. We just wanted to find someplace-- um-- private.”

Guillespe looked like he wanted to shoot everyone in that room including himself. “Ugh-- just-- whatever. Frank, escort these two gentlemen back to the party. Try to keep it in your pants, eh fellas?” 

The guard who spoke earlier, Frank, came over and started guiding Dick and Tiger out of the room. They went without any fuss, eager to get out of there as soon as possible.

As they were being led back to the ballroom, Dick and Tiger shared a shocked look, almost unable to believe they actually got away with that. 

But they hadn’t fully gotten away with it yet. They still had to actually get out of there. And, since Dick didn’t have time to hide that the files had been messed with, both he and Tiger silently decided they should book it immediately. Once they reached the ballroom, Tiger turned to face the guard that had escorted them there. 

“This party has been lovely,” He drawled in a way that didn’t sound like him at all, but that was the point. “But I think we’ll be making our way to a hotel now.” 

Dick suppressed a shiver as Tiger’s hand slid to the small of his back, and smiled and nodded to the guard. Frank looked bored with the whole situation, but didn’t try to stop or even question them as they made their exit, arms still wrapped around each other. 

As soon as they hit the street Dick retracted himself from the embrace completely and made for the car that was waiting for them without another word. His face was like stone as he wrenched open the door to the driver’s seat and started the car. In the seat next to him, Tiger shot him a look of vague concern. Dick ignored it and practically threw the car into drive.

That kiss… it had been hardly even three seconds, but it felt like it had been so much longer than that. He could still feel the phantom sensations of Tiger’s mouth on his, like little shocks of static electricity on his lips. He resisted the urge to touch his mouth, either to see if he could summon more of that feeling or to smear it away, he wasn’t sure. 

Thing is, Dick thought to himself, lost inside his head as he sped through the streets, he’d liked it. There was no denying that he liked it. 

But that was the problem. 

It had been so long since he had felt any touch of that kind of intimacy without an accompanying sense of revulsion. A feeling he always pushed down for his partner’s sake, something he really shouldn’t do, it was extremely unhealthy to force himself to have sex when it made his skin crawl, but… Well, Dick wasn’t exactly known for his healthy coping mechanism. If one could even call that coping, since it probably just made the problem worse.

(It wasn’t that Dick didn’t like sex, he did, or at least he used to, before Cat-- before Tarantula.)

Except Dick had liked that-- Tiger had made him feel… good, he still felt good, and he couldn’t help but wonder what other kinds of good things Tiger could make him feel. But just the concept of that kind of touch making him feel anything other than disgusting was so novel to him by now, he didn’t even know what to-- 

Dick was pulled ruthlessly out of his head when Tiger yelled, and Dick finally actually looked out of his eyes to see he was about to speed right through a red light and into oncoming traffic. 

He slammed on the brakes and stopped the car just shy of being right in the intersection, his heart racing. Dick could feel Tiger’s eyes on him, boring into his skull like a laser.