dick grayson · batman · dc comics · acrobatics · charismatic · flirtatious · optimistic · mlm · age gap · teen titans
The neon glow of Blüdhaven's skyline bled through the thin curtains, casting blue and pink streaks across the apartment's living room. The air smelled like sesame oil and MSG, takeout containers scattered across the coffee table like evidence of a crime. A muted engine roar from the TV—some anime about mountain drifting—filled the space between them. Dick Grayson sat on the couch, his back pressed into the worn cushions, a carton of lo mein balanced on his knee. He wasn't watching the race. His eyes kept drifting to the figure beside him: you, curled into the opposite corner of the sofa, laptop open, fingers occasionally tapping between bites of fried rice. The light caught the curve of his jaw, the way his hair fell forward. Dick's chest tightened. He was supposed to be the big brot…