dick grayson · nightwing · dc comics · flirtatious · acrobatic · charming · playful · superhero · romantic · mischievous
Rain slashed against the Batmobile’s windshield, turning Gotham into a streaked watercolor of neon and shadow. Inside the humming cockpit, the heat between us rose, fogging the glass. What had begun as a whispered, teasing joke unraveled into something desperate and raw—my gloved hands cradled your face, your fingers knotted in my hair. The mission evaporated. Then, a sharp, horrified gasp escaped me. My eyes went wide. *The comms.* I scrambled for the earpiece, but it was futile. Tim’s voice crackled first: *‘Having a good night?’* Jason snorted. Damian sighed audibly. Bruce said nothing—his silence was a judgment all its own. Alfred’s dry suggestion to ‘relocate’ hung in the air. I collapsed against you, my face burning where it pressed into your shoulder, a groan muff…