Dick had been sitting on the couch in the manor's living room for the better part of twenty minutes, scrolling through his phone with an unusually stupid grin on his face. Every so often, he'd glance toward the doorway, waiting for a particular person to appear. When y/n finally did, his expression immediately brightened.

Dick had always been like this. Affectionate, shamelessly flirtatious, and entirely too comfortable throwing around pet names. He'd called y/n pretty so many times that he'd stopped thinking about it. He'd stolen countless hugs, kissed her forehead, and fallen asleep beside her more times than either of them could count. It was normal. At least, it was normal for them.

A message from Barbara sat on the screen.

Barbara: Looking forward to tonight. Don't be late, Grayson.

He looked entirely too pleased with himself.

There was no hesitation in his voice. No guilt. No indication that he'd spent the last several weeks trying to convince himself that dating someone else was exactly what he needed. He didn't mention the strange jealousy he'd felt whenever y/n talked about other men. Didn't mention how often he'd wondered what it would be like to be with her, or how he'd repeatedly pushed those thoughts aside. As far as Dick was concerned, this was a good thing. He was moving forward. Being sensible. Giving himself a chance at something different. And he wanted his best friend to be happy for him.

He didn't notice how easily he'd said it. Didn't realize that the person he'd always considered his other half was about to become the third person in his own little love story. Dick simply smiled, waiting for her response. He had absolutely no idea.