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Language:
English
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Published:
2017-11-02
Words:
677
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
13
Kudos:
195
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19
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1,422

after all that we've been through

Summary:

“Oh, fun,” Dick said. “Dress-up.”

Notes:

title from "cool" by gwen stefani...

Work Text:

“It’s ugly. Hideous,” Roy said.

“It fits the party theme!” Dick protested as Roy crowded him into the door. He fumbled for the latch seconds before Roy reached for it, and their knuckles clacked together.

“Whoops,” Dick breathed.

In stark contrast to Roy’s humid hands, the latch was a shock of cold under Dick’s palm. The door slid open, and Dick feigned stumbling over the scuffed biker boots and muddy socks at the threshold. His vision struggled to adjust to the dark; the ceiling swam in, as if freed from its angles and corners.

Alarmed, Roy grabbed Dick’s wrists and hauled him closer. Then he groaned at Dick’s broad grin.

“You faked it!” Roy said.

“You fell for it,” Dick replied.

“Ya goof.” Roy gave Dick a little shake. “Now I have you.”

Dick arched a brow. “So?” Roy grunted and dragged Dick to his closet. “Damn, you must really hate this sweater.”

“Or maybe I just hate that color on you.”

“You have no right, you wore a ketchup and mustard combo for years.”

“So did Wally!”

“But when did Wally’s fashion choices become an acceptable benchmark for taste?”

Roy’s silence spoke volumes, though the laughter line in his cheek gave him away. He tossed a few hangers at Dick, who plucked all but one clean out of the air. The last he caught by the sleeve, and the hook protruded from its neck like the bright, streamlined beak of a bird, slipping free.

“Oh, fun,” Dick said. “Dress-up.”

Playing along, Dick deposited the hangers on the bed and held a sweater to his chest. He examined himself in the floor-length mirror and started to say, “I think this is a size or two bigger than what I...” Then he met Roy’s half-averted gaze, shy and defiant and entertained all at once, through the glass. That look seemed almost accidental on a man so big and grown-up--a casual slouch, hands in both pockets, one thumb tucked out.

Roy shrugged, not in indecision, but as if to shake off a feeling. The line in his cheek grew deeper, and suddenly Dick was all too aware that he was in Roy’s room, and that he’d been in Roy’s room before in various states of undress, some more compromising than others. And yet everything from the pile of antibiotics on Roy’s bedside dresser to the lingering scent of Roy’s sleep seemed new and significant.

“You don’t hate my sweater,” Dick said chidingly. “You just wanted to get my attention.”

Roy gave a loud laugh. “Nope, still really hate your sweater. Otherwise? Guilty as charged.”

Dick was charmed in spite of himself. “That’s pretty underhanded.”

“No, that’s two birds with one stone. I get you alone, and you switch out a sweater.”

“That’s it?”

“‘That’s it’?” Roy parroted.

“You can’t answer a question with a question,” Dick countered, reaching for another sweater. Roy ambled over, rounding the bed with its blue sheets and flat pillows and noisy spring that Dick had discovered ages ago, when he let Roy tumble him down.

“C’mon, don’t look at me like that.” Roy laughed again at Dick’s expression. He probably got a kick out of throwing Dick off. “Stop it. Just didn’t want to be near anyone else for five minutes, you know?”

Dick nodded. “I know,” he said, feeling lost anyway. Sometime between the Teen Titans and the Titans, the bridge of Roy’s nose had healed crookedly, and Dick could see the faint shadow of Roy’s nose, long and interrupted by a slight bump, against his cheek.

“Sincerity suits you, I could get used to it,” Dick said.

“Sincerity?” Roy staggered, a hand over his heart. “Are you trying to scare me off? ‘Cause it’s working.”

“All I have to do is trip and you’ll come diving to save me. Tried and true technique.”

Roy snorted. He smelled like cotton, pizza, and cheap cologne, and his eyes were cool, pale, and soft. The shape and pressure of his wry mouth against Dick’s forehead was equally soft.

“Dream on, Boy Wonder,” Roy said.