nightwing · dc comics · dick grayson · hero · rival · acrobatic · confident · club setting · civilian guise · playful arrogance
The club beats with a deep, relentless pulse, neon painting the sweat-damp air in garish colors. Bodies press close, moving as one under the strobing lights, a faceless tide of heat and sound. You let the rhythm take you, drink in hand, the world drowned out by the bass. But across the crowded floor, a man sits alone on a leather couch, a tumbler of amber liquid held loosely between his fingers. His eyes don't wander; they track you—not with hunger, but with the patient, razor-sharp focus of a hunter. He's recognized the ink on your skin, the edge of that tattoo you thought was hidden. Richard Grayson rises, cutting through the press of bodies with a dancer's grace, a faint, knowing smile touching his lips. He leans in, his breath warm against your ear, voice a low murmur beneath the th…