Chapter Text
Dick doesn’t mind helping Tim out.
“I have a friend, a bit particular, they write and needs help seeing how scenes may play out. I can’t visit them, can you go for me?” And he accepted, curious to know what Tim's friend looks like.
Mostly because he knew you’d be a grade A+ loser. After all, your friendship with Tim bloomed online under the comment section of a shady manga website.
“Welcome.” You said shily, opening the door of your house to him.
And you were exactly how Dick expected you to be. The ratty gray gym pants hung loosely around your hips, with a small hole on the right knee, while the cuffs were torn, revealing little threats. And the hoodie? He bets it’s from some official licensed comic, the kind that costs way too much for a simple print on cotton, the kind of bait they hang around the nose of fools like you.
You have the hood up as you welcome him inside, keeping such a safe distance that Dick has to restrain himself from laughing because nobody, not even a kid, would be intimidated by you.
“My name is Dick, a pleasure to meet you.” He holds out his hand out of habit, but he regrets it a second after as you hold it. Your hand is cold and sweaty, eugh. At least you actually hold it instead of giving a dead fish handshake.
“The pleasure is mine, sorry for taking your time. Do you wanna drink or eat something first?” You chew your lower lip after saying that, and Dick can’t help but notice how chapped your lips are, a small cut already healing at the corner of your mouth.
He has to admit that your house is pretty clean for someone who looks so scruffy. He was ready to see swords made of empty cans or shit like that. Stuff he saw Tim doing-
“No, I’m fine.” He pushes back some of his black strands that frame his handsome face. “So, what do you have to do?” Dick sees you jumping on the spot, almost as if you were surprised he is there to actually work for you.
“Yeah, I need to see how some actions will look in you know, real life. It’s already a romantic script; I don’t want to make it too cringe by writing stuff that would look terrible in real life. I’m gonna take my phone to record, wait for me here.” You turn, and oh, God, is that a hole forming in the back of your pants? Dick can literally see the strain in the cloth not to flash your butt around.
“Okay, I’m back-” He hears your voice, but he is stuck at the previous sight, because it’s unbelievable you thought to meet a stranger with clothes that barely stay together. “First scene will be on that wall, do you know how a kabedon works?”
“Yes, I do.” His blue eyes trail to the tripod where you are setting your phone.
“Good, now I need you to do it with me. Try to be as scary as possible. You need to look imposing.” You order him, already positioning yourself against the wall, lifting your hand up so your phone can start recording.
And Dick does it, hand naturally slapping against the white plain wall of your house, face immediately inching near yours, blue eyes a slit. “Is this good enough?” He whispers. He can’t help but notice the little blemishes on your skin, but what catches his attention is your smell; it’s not bad for someone who lives in a hole and mostly communicates in nerdiese.
He notices the little pout you make, how you bend your knees up and down, trying to find the right position. “Can you try to distance yourself a bit?” He nods, getting further from your face; the shine in your eyes tells him that you found the right setup.
“What would you say to woo someone that you bullied for months to chain them to you? To get into their minds?” Dick chokes a laughter after your questions, cheeks visibly puffing up. In which universe is it normal to ask these kinds of things? “I’m-I’m sorry! Tim said you have a lot of experience, so I wanted to hear your advice-” You start to stutter, fidgeting on the spot while Dick decides not to move an inch, enjoying in a twisted way your every reaction.
“I don’t truly know, I’m not the writer here, but-” He inches closer, the black locks that he previously pushed back disobeying and returning to frame his face, casting a shadow that only make Dick looks even more handsome “I’d get as close as possible, and I’d tell them to meet again at the usual place? Usually, it’s enough to convince them. Maybe it’s more the fear than the attraction tho, it depends on what you want to go with.” He whispers, thick index and forefinger lifting your chin, making sure your eyes are fixed on his.
Dick thought you’d stutter, that you’d close the gap between your mouths, or that you’d fumble, like the loser you are, but-
“That’s actually such a nice idea!” You hold your hand up to stop the recording. Then you clap them together, and a big smile graces your face. “Tim was right, you are a diamond mine of good ideas, I just need to dig further, as you know, develop them more.” You waltz away from his body, trotting towards your phone with a cheerfulness Dick didn’t expect.
You don’t stutter, mumble, or stop, too embarrassed to continue. Instead, you ask for more, totally unaware or even worse, oblivious to his gestures. Something acidic stings the back of his throat, black, thick eyebrows knit together as everything seems to fly over your head.
“You take this hobby seriously.” He states, as you take him to the bedroom.
“Oh yeah, at times they also buy my stories! It’s a good way to make ends meet.” You smile back at him, completely unaware of the inner turmoil of the man behind you. “This is a bit of a weird request, so it’s totally fine if you refuse-”
“I will do-”
“But I’d pay you for it because you are exactly the right height-” You continue, excitement in your voice.
“I said I’m gonna do whatever you ask.” Dick snaps, interrupting your flow of words. Your eyes widen, with a shine that matches your smile.
“Okay, can you lie on my bed?” Meanwhile, I’ll adjust the settings.” You say. Dick can see your hand shaking, trying to find the right light setting and angle to record.
“So, you do this often with Tim?” He asks, voice not showing a hint of real interest. Dick makes himself comfortable; the mattress is pretty hard, and the cover is impregnated with the same smell your skin carries.
“Mh, not like this, but we brainstorm a lot together.” You say, still more concentrated on setting your phone in the right place. “We tried some times, but Tim doesn’t always have the right attitude for the role-” The same acidic taste of before fills Dick’s mouth. He finds himself biting the inside of his cheek until the skin breaks. He winces, all of this for a loser that can’t live any of these situations unless they pay.
Silence fills the room for a few minutes, you keep fiddling with your equipment, and Dick can’t do anything but look around. Your bedroom is the room that tells the most about you. Your dumb figures collection on the nightstand and the insanely big library that takes more space than your wardrobe. Dick is so bored that he scans every single book and comic there. You read a lot, but they all seem to have action themes, maybe horror, but for sure, far from the genre you work on. He rolls, stomach now flat on the mattress, further from where you are. You still don’t give him proper attention, and it’s fine as he notices something on the ground. A pink cover, two guys on it. Dick smirks, interested. He reaches out, pinches the cover, and opens it in a single, swift motion.
What he sees is gold. Because just his luck would open it while the two guys were at it. Dick grins, white teeth shining, saliva forming like a predator an inch away from eating the prey. He turns the pages as the situation gets more and more intense, eyes fixed on the degenerate scenario you seem to enjoy so much.
And then, because Lady Luck has a favorite and it’s Dick Grayson, he decides to lift a bit of the cover from the ground, and damn, your yaoi stash is impressive.
“Dick, stay there! That corner is perfect!” Your voice makes him jump, so caught up in your dirty little secret, he forgot he had your eyes on him. He throws the manga under the bed, before turning to you, a kind, and for trained eyes, fake smile gracing his handsome features. “What do we have to do now?” One arm goes back, supporting his head, as he puffs his chest out. Obviously, the display in front of you goes totally over your head. You sit next to him, your smell clogging Dick’s nose; he still can’t decipher if in a nice way or not.
“I wanted to recreate a scene where one sits on the other person's lap during, I don’t know, a pillow fight, but the situation is tense as they both don’t want to reveal the attraction to each other!”
“Can you show me the position?” Dick raises one of his brows. “I want to understand the situation better.” He smiles again, with the best-acted puppy look anybody could muster.
“Ah- yes, if it doesn’t bother you.” You mutter, eyes looking down at our hands, before you give the sign for the phone to start recording.
Finally, you are fidgeting. Your thighs are already trembling from the effort of keeping your hips up for such a little time. “Ohh, clear, clear.” Dick nods, tongue prodding at his wounded cheek. “So how do you want this to go?” You jerk up when you feel his hot hands on your thighs, not massaging, not holding, simply there.
“Okay, so if it was a pillow fight-” You break out from your embarrassment to grab the pillow next to Dick’s head, his blue eyes follow your movement, how you stretch, and how you try to push it-
“Hey! Do you wanna play pillow fight or just choke me?” He grabs it and lifts it from his head, a scenario straight from a thriller movie rather than a rom-com. And as he does that, anger dies in his throat, deep blue eyes widening at the sight of the cotton grey panties you are wearing.
Because you may not have noticed, but your sitting position, the broken elastic band of your pants, and raising your arms ended up in a dangerous mix. They weren’t even cute, hot, or nasty. Those are the panties you buy in 3 for 1 boxes by people who not only gave up on their sexual life, but on life all around.
But he isn’t embarrassed by you, by your terrible taste in your clothing style, by your smell that doesn’t want to leave him...
“Omf.” You say, now sitting entirely on his lap, “Was there something wrong, Dick?”
His cock twitches. His lips a thin line. Because playing around with someone with zero to no experience in intimacy can be fun, it can be freeing to see them squirm and fumble.
But his body craving you? Propesterous. Insanity. Out of the law of nature.
“Yeah-” he throws the pillow at your side, “Pillow fights don’t work like that. Don’t you have any experience?” You catch the annoyed undertone in his voice, too blunt not to be noticed even by you. He sees you flop down, like a dog that got caught doing something it shouldn’t have. And more importantly, pressing on it harder.
“No, I never had a pillow fight, not even with friends.”
“I wasn’t talking about that-” And even if he muttered that you must have heard him as you gasp, eyes widening, “If you want to do a pillow fight, the hit should be like this-” He doesn’t care for your reaction tho, as his hand grabs his pillow to hit your side. There is no strength in the hit, but your equilibrium is so precarious that you have to stabilise yourself by pressing your hands on his chest. He looks down at them, then at you.
“S-Sorry! I didn’t mean- I don’t want to push- Sorry!!!” Dick groans because of all the hints you could take today, you were only able to get the slight annoyance caused by his half-boner straining his jeans.
Dick is one hundred percent sure; you don’t even know he is annoyed due to that and not by your poor living skills.
You gasp as his hand actually holds you in place, fingers digging into the fat of your thigh. Dick moves under you, trying to get as comfortable as the position allows him.
“Don’t worry, I know you didn’t do that on purpose-” He wishes that “So, no experience, mh?” He gnaws at his bottom lip, waiting for your embarrassed and stuttered answer.
“Nothing eclatant or memorable.” That didn’t come.
Just say it’s none.
“When you are like this, you should be grateful for anything that comes by-” Dick’s nose curls at your statement, which sounds right but is deeply wrong and wretched. “Anyway, I don’t mind it, I can spend a lot of my time working on stuff I like.”
Yeah, I know he thinks, the pictures of the guys enjoying their time together flashing in front of his eyes.
“I know you have much more experience than me; that’s why when Tim asked if it was fine for you to come, I accepted.” Your voice is soft now, and Dick can’t help but hear a touch of sorrow.
His heart flutters. Maybe he’d been too mean—teasing and pushing until the rope snapped. Dick’s fingers tap against your leg like piano keys, while the other hand keeps its grip on the pillow.
“It’s not a problem for me to help you out.” You now look at him, it’s clear as the sun during a summer day that you don’t believe him. “At times, I’m just surprised by how clueless you are. We’ll work this out.” A sigh leaves Dick’s plump lips. “Pillow fights can be nice, but it always ends pretty badly for the weakest of the two. I guess I have the more dominant role, right?”
You nod, the usual concentration back as you go into work mode.
“Let’s leave the pillows there, I bet you can get the right inspiration from clips online from movies...” His voice trails off, getting both pillows out of your way. “The scene could play with me taking the reins-” His hands quickly trail to your waist, rolling your body under his. Big hands are now at the sides of your head, his hips between your open legs. You look so small under the man, so weak that for a moment Dick finds it hard to gulp.
You look cute.
His lips get closer to your ear, while you don’t move, not scared but curious about what’s gonna happen. “And release some tension, something you don’t know anything about, mh?” Dick’s voice sharp, as the press of his hips to yours, making you gasp under him. He doesn’t lift his head, but if this gesture doesn’t get the message across, nothing will. He tries to look at you, blue eyes moving towards your face, to catch a glimpse of your reaction, but if the gasp tells him something, he nail-
“Dick, this idea is genial.” You turn your head as best as you can to look at him, excitement echoing in your room.
Like the fuck off, echoing in Dick’s skull.
“There is tension, the passion that has been building up finally exploding!!” Your forefinger pushes away one of his black locks that blocked your view of his face, his deep blue eyes quickly darting away. “Thank you.” Your voice is so soft, it makes a shiver run down Dick’s spine. “I should truly pay you, you have been so sweet the entire time, helping me with these weird requests-”
“Don’t worry.” He decides to plant his face on the mattress, hoping you wouldn’t notice the red shame reaching his cheeks. His voice dulled by the mattress, your smell even stronger, permeating his whole body.
It’s intoxicating. Finally, Dick knows how it makes him feel. That’s why his whole body isn’t acting physiologically; it’s because it’s dizzy due to your smell.
“I like being of help.” He chokes out.
And then you hug him. His eyes snap open as he feels your hand caressing his back with the kindness of a friend. His body slowly presses against yours as his hands hold you in the most awkward hug Dick has ever experienced. “Thanks again.” You murmur again.
He doesn’t say anything, words dying in his throat while he chokes on your smell. Dick can feel the blush creeping up his neck and sliding down towards his chest, where his heart is thumping, angry and frustrated by the situation.
Maybe this time he’ll have to thank your obliviousness, when the hug finally breaks, and you won’t notice his sorry situation—
“Oh, sorry-” You chuckle, “I’m not used to hugging, I was pressing too hard, right?”
A waterfall of insults flows from his brain. He must be dreaming; all this day must have been a sick simulation, one of those tortures that Tim calls experiments.
“I’m fine, just a bit warm-”
“Oh! Let me cool down the room.” He pushes himself off you, still on all four as you raise your hand up to turn off the recording (You still had the mind locked on your project, Dick is amazed) and stretch to open the window, right next to the nightstand where your stupid figures are.
And it happens, the strings that kept your pants together stretch too far, a small hole forms right in front of Dick’s eyes. He turns his head down, black locks rolling down as if they followed the man's emotions.
This must be a fever dream.
At least you don’t ask him for anymore scenes, asking just if he needed something to eat or drink, or “Are you sure you don’t want money?” You are in front of your door, Dick’s hand already on the handle, ready for the right moment to escape, and release some...stress.
“Yes, I’m sure of it.” But maybe he should ask for a refund for the brain damage he went through that day.
You thank him again, waving at him as he opens the door, but...he stops.
“Would you like to see each other again?” Dick had to take a big breath before formulating this question.
“Oh? I don’t know when I’ll need help again for the scen-”
“Not for that. Just...eat something out.” His voice highlighted the word “out”. You need that. To go outside and meet people, and not for work, just because you need to live a little outside your safe nest.
“I-I don’t know, I usually-”
“We don’t have to go to parties, it’s fine even fast food at dawn.” He understands it would be a big step for you; he can’t push too much.
Now he sees you stutter, fidgeting like the loser he expected you to be. His heart flutters again.
“Okay...you have my number.” You mumble, face lowered, eyes never leaving his, which only makes them look bigger and cuter.
His chest swells before nodding as he exits your house.
“See you soon!”
Dick won’t make you wait much.