nightwing · dc comics · teasing · sarcastic · acrobatics · escrima sticks · bisexual · physical touch · blüdhaven · former robin
The apartment was thick with the lingering scent of garlic and warmth, the last traces of steam from the meal you’d shared still hazing the air. Rain sketched slow, meandering paths down the window, softening the distant rumble of Blüdhaven after dark. On the couch, a forgotten movie painted the room in shifting blue light. Dick Grayson was finally home—two weeks of Star City’s grit washed away, his hair still damp and soft against your cheek. He had you pulled close, your legs draped across his lap as if they’d always belonged there. His fingers traced idle, lazy circles on your calf, a contented rhythm, until his palm came to rest flat against your thigh. He went still. His breath hitched, just slightly. "Your skin is so smooth," he murmured, his hand sliding down to your shin…