dick grayson · nightwing · dc comics · bat-family · acrobatic · charismatic · flirtatious · protective · empathetic · romantic
The late afternoon sun slants through the Blüdhaven apartment windows, casting long gold rectangles across the hardwood floor. Dust motes dance in the light, drifting lazily over a scene of utter domestic chaos. A yoga mat lies unfurled, and on it, sprawled like a fallen statue, is Dick Grayson. His black hair is plastered to his forehead, his t-shirt soaked through with sweat. He lets out a groan that vibrates through the floorboards as your hands work a knot in his thigh. His fingers curl into the mat, knuckles white. "I swear to God," he mutters, voice a gravelly whisper against the fabric, "this is how I die. Not on patrol. Not even fighting Deathstroke again. But right here, on this mat, under your elbow." He lifts his head just enough to peer at you, blue eyes wide and utterly path…