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The days always crawled by slowly whenever Dick wasn’t home.
It’s not like you two lived together or anything. You also worked hard not to be fully codependent despite both of you having slightly clingy tendencies that were only unable to come to fruition in thanks to Dick’s incredibly hectic schedule.
You thought you’d grow used to it by now, but you never really truly did.
After all, if you had you wouldn’t find yourself buried deep in the closet of his slightly shitty apartment, laying on some makeshift nest comprised of the sheets that sorta still smell like him wrapped around your body.
You doze off a bit, clinging to a pillow that wears his shirt. The coolness of his cologne rests against your cheek and you ignore the slightly acrid taste in your mouth in favour of having the idea of him wrapped around you again. You’re so caught up in your daydreaming that you don’t hear the door to his apartment open, nor do you realise he’s too tired to notice that the pair of shoes sitting in the foyer are yours. He creeps up the stairs silently, Escrima sticks in hand, only putting them away when he sees the mess of blankets on the ground.
For a moment, his heart stops. He thinks something’s wrong, that you came in to find him and instead found yourself face to face with someone who wanted you dead. It’s not until he sees the easy way your chest rises and falls, how relaxed you look in your little cocoon that he exhales softly.
A shadow falls over your body as you look up, Dick now looming over you as his bright blue eyes focus on you laid across the floor of his bedroom like it’s a luxury mattress.
“…comfy down there?” he asks after a minute, the softest hint of a laugh in his voice.
“Yeah,” you mumble in response, turning to bury your face in the pillow.
Dick tries not to look too offended as you seem far too comfortable snubbing his actual real moving up and down chest in favour of whatever contraption you’ve got set up inside his closet.
“What are you trying to do?”
You ignore him as he crouches down to get at eye level with you, chuckling a bit at his slight wince and the way his joints sound clicking into place.
“Ha. You’re getting fucking old,” you taunt as he lightly flicks you wherever he can reach.
“I literally just got home. What did I do to deserve that?” he asks petulantly.
It takes him another moment before he decides to see what all the fuss is about, laying on the ground next to you. Unlike you however, he has none of the amenities you’d acquired – stolen – from his bed. You look at him out of the corner of your eye as he just lays there for a bit, turning his face to look at you with half a grin.
“I don’t get it. Why are we both down here?”
You don’t reply to him, simply taking in the way he looks finally being here with you. Your eyes slowly trail over his face, catching the way his freckles are disappearing into his tanned skin since it’s not very sunny outside, the way his dimple is fighting for its life right now as he pretends he isn’t wanting to grin like a madman from just seeing you. Subtly, you begin shifting to lay down on your side, continuing to observe him.
You also don’t want to open your mouth, afraid to admit that this was the best way you were able to feel his presence whenever he left for long periods of time. His closet would always vaguely smell like him and as long as you made a nest to lay down on it really wasn’t all that bad. He watches you curiously, mirth filling his eyes as he watches you settle.
“I think I’m missing something,” he muses, something filling his voice and you know it’s not good.
You squeal out loud when he suddenly reaches an arm out and grabs you, pulling you into his chest tightly. The sheets drag along the small, cramped space of the floor as he buries his nose into your neck. After a moment, he starts taking comedically deep breaths as he gnaws on your shoulder in way that’s clearly not meant to be sexy.
“There. Much better,” he says when he’s satisfied with whatever he’s done to you, sighing happily as his leg hooks over your hip to keep your back in place against his chest.
“Dick stop it – Dick - oh my god-“
You make another noise of surprise when his hands slide under your shirt, hands resting against the planes of your chest as his thumbs keep themselves busy by circling on your skin. You try to fight his grip but it’s totally no use, Dick’s strength always impossible for you to fight out of.
“Quit squirming,” he mumbles, biting the back of your neck.
“I’m trying to get comfortable. You’re moving too much.”
He continues to manhandle you into place, ignoring the way you yelp and laugh as he does, finally satisfied when he’s got you pressed up against him as tight as he can possibly get you. His leg slots itself between both of yours, the thick muscle of his thigh pressing right up against your core. His arms are holding you so tightly against his chest you would think he’s restricting your airflow but somehow, he’s got you at a perfect medium.
“Done now?” you ask when he finally stops moving around, his breathing beginning to even out against you.
“Done,” he mumbles, now busying himself with pressing kisses to the bites he left earlier.
“Now, are you going to tell me what we’re doing on the floor of my closet?”
You let his words sit in the air for a bit, half heartedly shrugging before you decide to come clean.
“I missed you,” you say simply, hoping it’ll be enough to sate his curiosity.
“Ah. So, you missed me so much you wanted to become a part of my floorboards? I don’t think that’s quite how it works,” he teases, lightly squishing you a bit.
You’d rather him think that was the truth, barely nodding as you bury your face into the pillows. Dick can tell immediately that you’re trying to hide something from him and he’s not very happy about it, sighing softly.
“C’mon,” he coaxes, thumbs rubbing circles against your skin.
“Tell good ol’ Dick what’s wrong. Promise I won’t make fun of you.”
“Say that again and I’m breaking up with you,” you retort, elbowing him somewhere and feeling satisfied when he lets out a sharp noise of pain.
“Baby. I bruised my ribs,” he whines.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“You don’t sound it,” he replies, the pout quite obvious in his voice.
You take a moment, letting Dick continue to wine before you cut him off.
“Your closet smells like you. That’s why I’m here.”
He falls silent, the words settling against him. He’s equal parts flattered and upset that this is what you resort to in his absence, trying to figure out exactly what to say to you.
“’m sorry for being gone for so long,” he decides on after a bit, nuzzling against your skin.
“I know you understand, and you’ve been much more accommodating than you need to be. Just know I think about you every day whenever I’m away from you. Really,” he mumbles against you.
“I love you. More than anything. You make everything I go through worth it.”
“I know you do. I love you too. That’s why I miss you so much,” you reply, finally turning to face him.
He looks at you so earnestly, the fatigue in his eyes still there but somehow duller in the light of his love for you. His hand comes up to cup your face tenderly, rough pads of his fingers gently running along your cheekbone.
“You should just move in,” he suggests, shrugging.
You raise a brow, his tone far too casual for such a loaded suggestion. If you didn’t know him better, you wouldn’t see the light dusting of pink along the bridge of his nose or how his ears are turning a pretty red. He somehow still manages to keep his eyes on yours, an incredibly soft look in them.
“You wouldn’t have to break into my apartment then. And you’d see me as soon as I return home. Home doesn’t mean much to me anyway. It never was a place,” he mumbles lowly, nose pressed against yours.
You roll your eyes, knowing that Dick’s about to break out some cheesy line to romance you. You also know that it really doesn’t matter – you’re going to fully fall for it anyway.
“Home is wherever the heart is you know. And I’ve pretty much torn mine out of my chest and thrown it at you the second you batted your eyelashes at me,” he grins, pulling you in impossibly closer to press a kiss to your lips.