Familiarity | By : aranel Category: DC Verse Comics > Teen Titans Views: 2749 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans,nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I pretend to own any recognizable characters within this work of fiction. They are the sole property of DC and I am just borrowing them for a bit of fun.
A/N: No real spoilers, but if you’re not currently involved with the Teen Titans/Outsiders crossover, you may be just a tad lost. If you are, this transpires in Outsiders 24.
Roy has known Dick for most of his life. They’ve been teammates, friends, confidants…Supporting each other. Defending one another. It is why he felt polygraphing Dick was unnecessary. He likes to think he knows Dick’s heart. Understands it. Maybe he does and maybe he doesn’t. As much as he’d like to say he truly knows Dick, he knows that’d be lying to everyone, including himself. Because while he knows Dick well enough to predict him, Dick’s still the son of the Bat.
“What do you mean ‘surgery’?!”
Roy can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen that particular look.
As the technician stutters a reply, Roy watches Dick from the corner of his eye. Watches his expression grow impossibly darker, as the significance of Robin’s injury is explained to him. He knows that look. Knows the stance. That is the Bat taking over.
“What about his mask?” Dick asks, voice cold and emotionless.
Roy knows Dick is a tangled mess. And while Roy is still feeling the aftereffects of everything that’s happened in the past thirty-six hours, what’s happened in the past five compounds in his chest. He’s seen Mia. Her wrist is broken, but besides a few scratches, she’s all right.
They’d gotten to the tower too late. The Teen Titans had been gone by the time they’d gotten there. But, looking around…the rubble, the blood splattered everywhere…the titan shaped imprints…The kids had had a worse day than they.
Knowing where the Titans would have retreated, broken and bleeding, in too many pieces to count, they’d followed. Dick had looked over the scene first. While it was virtually untainted. Then he’d followed as well.
Roy knew on the flight to the tower. On the flight to Star Labs. Upon entering. Dick was bubbling over, well past a healthy limit. He hadn’t said anything, but Roy could tell. From the first crackle of the urgent call. From the sound of Robin’s voice, and the returning call from Nightwing. Very little could make the Bat clan’s voices sound like that. Desperate, and abandoned. The Outsiders had witnessed something Roy was sure was reserved for private moments. They’d glimpsed the inner sanctum of Bat life. And the others probably hadn’t even noticed.
Roy’d watched the way Dick’s chest had grown tight, seeing Robin broken and bleeding. Leaning into the transmitter, with tears running over his mask. Bats didn’t cry. Roy knew what it took to make them. And in those few moments of dawning comprehension, he knew Dick would be walking a fine line from that moment on.
“We had to remove it for-”
“What?!”
“We put it back on!”
“Dick,” says Roy quietly, laying a hand to Dick’s shoulder.
“What color are his eyes?”
“I don’t know!”
Roy knows someone would. He knows Dick knows the same. Still, this man doesn’t know, and Roy gives Dick’s arm a squeeze. Begrudgingly, Dick releases the technician.
Batman might be proud of how very Bat-like Dick is behaving, if not for the given situation. Roy knows if Batman finds out, it’ll be someone’s ass. And he isn’t stupid enough to rule out his own.
He nods at the technician as Kory thanks him, and watches the man leave as quickly as he can without actually looking like he’s running. Even though Roy knows that’s exactly what he’s doing.
“Dick,” he tries again.
Dick’s body is so tense, Roy swears he’s going to have an aneurism. He knows if Dick isn’t calmed soon, he’s going to take it out on someone. All the pain and anger. The hurt. He’d rather Dick take it out on him than some innocent bystanders trying to do their jobs and not comprehending the complex inner workings of the way Bats think and doing something stupid to provoke him.
Nodding at Kory and the others to go on ahead, he takes Dick by the arm and into another room. He’s not surprised that Dick lets him, instead keeping in mind that Dick’s so wound, he probably wants this. He checks the hallway, and the room before securing the door.
Dick stands in the center of the room, staring down at the floor. This is usually where Donna would say ‘Let me, Roy’ and he’d leave them to it. This was the part where Donna would find the sense in everything, and talk to Dick as if he knew better than to feel this way. She’d find hope somewhere and convey that.
But, Roy’s not Donna. Donna’s dead. And as much as he’d known her, as close as they’d become, he can’t possibly think like her. He can’t grasp the magical way she could make things all right. Or find any better sense, any comfort greater than ‘at least Robin’s not dead’.
He could always just push Dick that extra inch, he knows. But, that has always worked best when there was someone to stop them. Dick pushes him when he needs it. He can push back when Dick does. But, he knows now is not a good time. Because pushing Dick now could mean hurting him in the long run, or worse, somehow betraying this bizarre relationship of theirs.
He doesn’t want to lose him.
Besides, he’s sent everyone away. And fighting in Star Labs might not be the best decision. He knows for a fact he and Dick alone can tear it up on a normal day, just sparring. When emotions are involved, especially as many as now, they’d only end up killing someone. It’d be an accident, but after everything that’s gone wrong today, he’s not willing to risk it.
Without fighting as an option, Roy’s left with the only other thing he knows.
Dick starts at the kiss, and then moans. His arms go about Roy tightly, and he draws him back, until there’s nothing between them, and Dick’s pinned between Roy’s body and an examination table.
And it’s intense. Intense in a way Roy never thought it could be. Dick’s mouth against his own is so strong, and needy. He pushes him back further, knowing Dick’s thigh is being pinched, but knowing right now, pain is what Dick wants. Well, perhaps not pain per se, but a release that’s far from gentle.
Dick wants to push out and out until he’s exhausted.
Their hands scrabble at one another, pushing between them. Ripping off weapons, which drop like heavy polluted rain across the sanitized floor. Uniforms are next, and while they can tear, the way they pull and stretch feels even better. Like ripping free a layer of skin, a part of the mind. One ladened with all the weight, exhaustion and utter desperation they’ve experienced. The depravation they’ve always known.
By the time they’re mostly naked, Roy’s forgotten who is comforting who. Dick’s tongue traces fire along the toughened scars of the bullet holes he’s acquired this year. The surgical scar against his sternum where they cracked open his ribs. Roy throws his head back. He hasn’t let anyone touch him like this in months. Hasn’t wanted any praise for his stupidity. For trying too hard and getting burned.
His hands grip Dick’s skin like vices. Beneath them, muscles shift beneath the surface. Strong, agile muscles, tested daily on their ability, passing with every successful move. Dick’s breath is heavy against his shoulder, as he bites it, and Roy groans.
Yes. Just like that.
He retaliates, teeth marking against Dick’s neck, and Dick bucks beneath him. Hands fist in Roy’s hair and tug hard in a pulse. Dick is trying to find purpose in him. A reason for his day to day. The explanation for it all. Roy knows he doesn’t have it.
He shoves Dick back against the table, and lifts his legs. Dick’s got him by the head, and draws strong forearms against his neck, pulling him down too. They grind against one another, pushing and thrusting with no real destination.
Dick’s body is just as scarred as his own, perhaps more so. But Roy hasn’t the time to appraise them now. His mouth is far too busy, and his hands refuse to leave Dick’s solid length. Comforting in the way it can take pain and keep right on going. In the way it can drive ever onward, despite limitations. Physics are denied where Dick is concerned. And everything he does is awe-inspiring. He just doesn’t know that.
Roy hasn’t the time to tell him. Dick’s shoved against him too many times. Smearing his abdomen in the wet strokes of urgency they haven’t the time to indulge. But, all the will to fit it in, to make it work. He’s found a particularly good nook in Dick’s hip and spends most of his time trying to thrust right through the bone.
Dick cries out, and even with the mask, Roy can see the pain there. He knows what this is doing, how he is helping. Helping Dick, and in a way himself. They’ve always been loyal to one another, more loyal than they’ve ever been to themselves.
Dick’s fingers bite into him, and Roy knows there’ll be bruises there. But he’s used to bruises, and considering what lays ahead, he’ll gladly run headlong into death with Dick’s marker. If that is what awaits them, he’ll at least know they died with clear heads, if forsaking clear consciences.
Grips tighten, as they shove against each other like errant schoolboys. Like passionate virgins, trying to discover how best this works, and ignoring sense for feeling. But, feeling is all they have. Feeling is what this is about. He doesn’t know how much can be said about life, or how fucked up they are. But Roy does know that whatever can be said about them…at least can be said honestly. And that’s enough.
Dick comes first, bucking wildly and releasing a scream that’s more about Tim than it is about Roy. Not that Roy cares. He follows him right over, and jerks afterward from the sharp shocks in his spine.
They lay against one another panting hard, grips loosening only slightly, so they’re able to relax the knotting muscles. It feels like forever, but they’re both far too acclimated to the whims of time to fall for the delusion. It can’t have been more than ten minutes.
There’s no stroking, no reaffirming. They simply get up and return to duty at hand. Roy has accomplished what he’d set out to, and has gotten what he hadn’t known he needed as well. Dick’s reassurance of his faith in him. Sure, that’s reading in between non-existent lines, but Roy figures that’s what they do every day anyway.
He can live with that.
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