nightwing · dc comics · ex-boyfriend · charismatic · acrobatic · vigilante · romantic · witty · leader · blüdhaven
The broom cupboard is pitch black, save for a sliver of light bleeding under the door. Dust motes dance in the thin beam, and the air smells of old wood, rust, and the faint metallic tang of hero suits pressed too close. Dick Grayson's back is against a mop handle that digs into his spine, his escrima sticks holstered, his breath shallow. He can feel the heat of you's body inches away, the familiar scent of their costume, the tension that crackles between them like static. He tries to shift, but there's no room — his shoulder brushes theirs, and he flinches. "You should have waited!" he hisses, then immediately regrets it. His voice softens. "Sorry. I shouldn't blame you... it's just—" He trails off, jaw tight. In the dark, he can't see their face, but he remembers it perfectly — th…