Work Text:
Dick closed the door on where Ollie had just left, still muttering into his beard with Dinah holding his hand and shaking her head. “If I had known it was family dinner night, I wouldn't have come.”
Clearing the table, Roy didn't tense through long years of practice. “You don't like family dinner night?”
He caught Dick's look at him from the corner of his eye. “He's still mad at me for kicking him out—twice—when,” and Dick floundered and sighed and that was remarkable in of itself. “When the other Roy Harper was here.”
“Oddly enough I did pick up on his irritation about that,” Roy said, because now every time Ollie saw Dick, he started up on it again.
“He doesn't understand,” Dick was curling his fingers into a fist and forcing them back out again. “It wasn't about him. I wasn't doing anything about—it wasn't about you and him. I wasn't trying to step between you and him. It was about—it was about him. It was about how he reacted to Ollie and—and I think he needed a protector.”
“Dick Grayson, protector of all the little folk,” Roy said and Dick stared at him, something flashing in his eyes before he walked away from the dining room and into the kitchen. Roy dropped the napkins in a pile and grabbed the stacked plates before following him. “Dick—”
“I can't help it,” Dick said, and he was packing up leftovers and shoving them angrily into the fridge. The fridge the other Roy had given armor and a small level of sentience to, and sometimes Roy still came out in the middle of the night, just wanting to get a cold glass of water and getting startled by the security system letting him through. “He wasn't you,” Dick continued, and Roy tried to focus on what he was saying and not how domestic he looked.
Fuck, Roy really wanted him looking domestic more often.
“He wasn't you, but he was a reflection of you. And he was alone and Ollie made him scared and damnit, it might not have been my right to push Ollie out, but it wasn't his right to push in either.” He stilled, back to Roy. “He just was used to being alone. I couldn't—”
Roy came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and for once Dick just let him. “Okay, let me correct myself. Dick Grayson, protector of Roy Harpers.”
“I'm not done a very good job protecting you,” Dick said, faint.
“Dick—”
“Shut up,” Dick said. “I haven't. I haven't been good at—at anything with—for you. In a long time.”
“Dick,” Roy sighed again. “You're here. Right now. That's pretty good with me.”
Roy kissed the side of Dick's neck and could see his eyes flutter closed from where his head was tilted back. He dipped his fingers into the space between Dick's shirt and jeans, barely stroking the warm skin there and felt Dick's throat jump as he swallowed.
“That doesn't negate—what I did,” Dick said and Roy wanted to never hear the word outsiders again as long as he lived. In any context because what good they might have done as a team felt buried under the weight of every not good thing they had done, to others and each other.
“No,” Roy agreed because there wasn't a lot else for him to do.
“I just,” Dick pulled away slightly and Roy let him, watching him move around the kitchen, hiding his edginess under pretending to clean the kitchen. “He wouldn't believe someone would stay with him so long. But I haven't—”
“You came back,” Roy said, because he was close to convincing himself that's what mattered.
“But,” Dick cut himself off. “You know, I can buy you a new fridge if this one bothers you.”
Roy blinked, because that was not what Dick was going to say. “It's fine,” he said. “Sure,” and the fridge rumbled as Dick opened it, putting away the last of the left overs. “It's a little weird. But it's armored as fuck and I don't know if you noticed but there's a whole area now that's not even cold anymore.”
“I had noticed,” Dick said and they both didn't say it was a bolt hole to protect Lian. Dick's eyes flickered over to his, and neither of them had to acknowledge what that meant.
“I like it,” Roy shrugged and Dick turned away again. He was almost to the doorway when Roy caught his wrist. “Are you staying the night?”
Dick's eyes flickered up to him. “Yeah,” he said softly. “If you want me to.”
Roy dragged him against his chest, and he still thrilled at the way Dick shifted against him, the way Dick's hands cupped his face when they kissed. His own hands cradled Dick's hips and he wanted to stay, just in this moment, for a long time.
“Is Lian still watching her show?” Dick asked.
“Yeah,” Roy said, kissing his jawline and Dick tipped his head back.
“Should put her to bed,” he mumbled, distracted.
“Yeah,” Roy agreed, dragging his teeth along were Dick's jaw met his throat and Dick shuddered. “Should be over in another couple minutes,” he added, blowing air on the wet stripe his mouth had left.
“It's just,” Dick said, meeting his eyes and the fact he hadn't buried this deep inside him and never talked about it again spoke volumes about how bothered he was by the other Roy Harper. “What I was going to say earlier. Me, coming back like this might be enough. For you, here, but where he's from—what if no one does? He was so alone what if he is now?”
It felt a little like Dick had thrown cold water on his head. “Dick—”
“I'm sorry,” Dick said and turned abruptly away. “It's fine, I'm fine,” and he strolled into the living room, speaking with Lian over the credits of her show like he really meant what he said.
Roy pinched the bridge of his nose and followed.
-0-
Roy figured there would come a day when he wasn't quite so fascinated by watching Dick get ready for bed. There was just something about the way that Dick's usual grace and economy of movement translated into brushing his teeth that made Roy come up short.
Sometimes he saw Dick watching him too, at the weirdest of moments, and dismissed it as his over active imagination, that maybe Dick felt something the same.
He came up behind Dick again, when Dick was setting his toothbrush down, nuzzling against the side of his neck and sliding his hands across Dick's bare chest. He felt Dick suck in a breath, tilting his head and it was the tiny moments like these Roy couldn't believe.
It was one thing when they were high on adrenaline and fear, when Roy shoved Dick into a wall and Dick just wrapped his arms around him and held on. It was one thing when they were fighting and somehow that turned into kissing, Dick's elbow shoved against his throat almost like an attack still while he tried to swallow Roy's tongue.
It was one thing when Dick's hands were shaking as he gently touched Roy, because he was injured again and they were still somehow both alive.
But this, the quiet build up, the domestic moments leading to a night where Dick was staying over because he could, and because the world was calm and they might wake up in the middle of the night and fumble around each other to patrol but for now they were going to bed like normal people.
It made something catch at the back of Roy's throat because Dick was trying for him.
He slid his hands lower, into Dick's sleep pants, and Dick's head dropped back against his shoulder as he undulated against him. Roy kissed his throat, swallowed back the “I love you” caught in his throat because he had to, and brought Dick off in the bathroom just because he could.
-0-
Roy woke up because Dick was lightly stroking his arm, fingers tracing his tattoo.
“Hm, is it morning yet?”
“Can't sleep,” Dick said. “This normal sleep schedule thing just doesn't work.”
Roy snorted, inching closer. “Ah, but don't you like trying to be a domestic couple?”
Dick tensed and Roy laughed again, to hide his panic. The blinds were mostly closed, but a little bit of street light still sneaked in, the only thing highlighting Dick's face.
“It's different,” Dick settled for.
“Good different, or bad different?” Roy pressed, because sometimes he thought about that other Nightwing too, who stood alone and stiff like he could bear that weight.
“Just different,” Dick said but he twined their legs together. Roy swallowed his reaction. “I'm sorry,” he said suddenly, softly.
“What?” Roy asked.
“For never being—what you need when you need it.”
“You've been what I needed when I needed it,” Roy said abruptly. “Come on, Robin, like you weren't the cold water Speedy needed dumped on his head.”
Dick winced. “But when—”
“And sure it was unorthodox but pulling a gun on me right then was sorta brilliant—”
“Roy,” Dick said and his command voice was all sorts of wrong in bed.
“Look,” Roy said, and he traced his fingers along Dick's cheek, never tired of touching him. “You even came and saw the waterfall with me.”
The light from the window was enough to see the devastation on Dick's face.
“I could do better by you, I could always have done better by you—”
“If you're scared that I'm ever or ever have been like the other Roy Harper,” Roy said softly. “I'm not. You're not.”
“He said no one would stay,” Dick said. “He couldn't believe I even had the time to spend the day with him. What the fuck was I like there?”
“Lonely,” Roy said and Dick stared at him. “And lost. A little more dependent on Bats. The littlest Robin liked you a lot,” and Dick raised his brows at him. “You were a mess too, there. It's not your responsibility to always fix me, Dick.”
“But,” Dick said.
“It's up to them to figure it out,” Roy said. “Like it's up to us to figure this life out.”
Dick's eyes were serious as he watched him, their legs still twined together. “I could still do better by you.”
“Yeah,” Roy said softly. “I'd like it if we actually had a relationship, if I knew I could count on you hanging around more than when the whim took you. I'd like to be able to tell you how much I fucking love you without you hurting from that.”
Dick winced, as he always did.
“We've been together, on and off, for almost twenty years now, Dick,” Roy said. “I mean, if you count the fumbling of stupid teenagers.”
Dick's smile was almost wistful. “I do. I couldn't figure out how you could fight with me one breath and be kissing on the mats the second.”
Roy snorted. “Fuck.” It still made something curl in his stomach, shame and hate, to think that he had been older and still had kissed fifteen year old Dick. But Dick had always seemed years more mature than him and Dick never seemed inclined to call him out on it now.
“So,” he said, clearing his throat. “I think despite our mistakes—our mutual mistakes, don't you dare get guilty on me now.”
“It's not getting guilty on you now,” Dick said. “When I've been feeling guilty the whole time—”
Roy kissed him, to shut him up.
“The point is,” he said, and his fingers were tight on Dick's hips and Dick looked at him with dark eyes. “At some point I'd like you to get used to hearing that.”
“It,” Dick swallowed and lowered his eyes, almost hiding them entirely. “I just—”
“It would help you be able to hear it if you'd just let go of some of that fucking guilt.”
“Sometimes I think that's the only thing keeping me together,” Dick whispered and fuck that made way too much sense.
“I'll keep you together,” Roy said and that startled half a laugh out of Dick. “I just want to be able to say it. Someday I admit in my selfish heart I'd like to hear it back too.”
Dick raised his eyes again and they hovered on something in the dark.
“I do,” he said softly. “I—” and he fell silent.
“Don't strain yourself,” Roy said because if he didn't, he was going to throw up.
“Shut the fuck up, Roy Harper,” Dick said, and his fingers were digging painfully into Roy's biceps.
“Hey,” Roy started and fell silent abruptly because Dick whispered at the same time, “I do love you.”
They lay in silence.
“Jesus, Dick,” Roy said, and he wrapped his arms around Dick, pulling him tight against his chest. “You are such a mess.”
“I said shut up,” Dick mumbled.
“Okay, okay,” Roy said. “So I'm going to say I love you, until you get used to it. Like exposure therapy.”
“Roy, it's not because I'm scared of it or it—it's just, you shouldn't, because I—”
“I'm going to keep saying it until you believe it and that it's okay to hear,” Roy said. “And then, when you get used to that, I'm going to be the one to propose.”
Dick froze. “What?” he whispered, a tiny question.
Roy grinned into the darkness, feeling bold. “Come on, Dick. If you propose it's because you're desperate. Don't lie, you know you've done that.”
Dick's jaw worked. “Alright,” he allowed finally, because he had walked away from Kory on their wedding day when they realized everything had gone wrong, and Roy knew Barbara and he had fallen apart, right around the time a ring was involved.
“So, if you propose, I'm going to panic,” Roy said and when Dick didn't say anything or get out of the bed, he felt something like hysteric euphoria bubble in his chest. “So, I'm going to be the one who proposes.”
“You can't really mean—”
“Dick, if I thought you could handle it I would propose right now,” and he rolled them over, pinning Dick's hands against the bed. If Dick really wanted to leave, he still easily could. “I'm going to tell you I love you until you believe it. Then I want to marry you. It's been twenty years. I get it, okay? We've fucked up. We've done awful things together and separately, to other people and each other. But through it all I've loved you—yeah even when I was a kid and pretended I just wanted to get off in the training room. I've loved you when you punched me and pushed me aside. Okay? I'm not going to stop. I get that a guilt complex comes with you because fuck, I've known you a long time. But I'm also tired of pretending I don't want to build a life with you.”
Dick blinked up at him, but he hadn't thrown Roy off or interrupted him.
“Okay,” he said finally, after long enough Roy was starting to panic. “I'm not promising—but okay.” He closed his eyes. “You can try and get me used to that idea.”
Roy stared at him, and it felt like all the air had been punched out of his lungs. “Okay,” he said and leaned down, straddling Dick's waist. “I love you,” he whispered into Dick's ear, feeling him jerk against him but still not trying to flee. “I love you,” he repeated and a sound caught in the back of Dick's throat, his eyes closed. “I've loved you since we were stupid kids.”
“Please just kiss me,” Dick asked and Roy knew why, but considering he had gotten off three declarations in a row, he figured he owed Dick a break and swallowed his next sound. Where his hands had been pressing Dick's into the pillow above his head, he shifted them, so their fingers were intertwined.