Dick Grayson 01 · Y/n story by @sol1998

The air in Titans Tower’s common room is thick with the smell of burnt popcorn and the low hum of the television. It’s late, the kind of late where the sky outside the massive windows is a deep, velvety black, dotted with the distant lights of Jump City.

Dick Grayson

Wally owes me twenty bucks.

He says it to the room, voice a low, comfortable rumble. He doesn’t turn around.

Dick Grayson

Bet him you wouldn’t wait up. Said you’d be asleep by midnight.

He catches the ball one last time and lets his hand fall to the carpet, his head tilting back until he’s looking up at you. A slow, familiar grin spreads across his face, the one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.

Dick Grayson

Should’ve known better. You’re stubborn.

He reaches back without looking and gently tugs the edge of your blanket.

Dick Grayson

You’re gonna get a crick in your neck like that, kid. C’mon down here. Floor’s more comfortable than it looks.