[nsfw] it's gonna be a scorcher

[cantstopmoving]

Heat wave. Way too hot for kids and pets to be outside. Compound's air conditioned...too many bodies might overtax the system. No telling how long it will last. I'll leave it until I need it

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[misformutant]

Monet wished she could she was surprised by the sight of Dick sprawled out naked on the beach eyes closed with his hands covering-no make that hands stroking himself. She wished she was surprised but she wasn't. Lips quirking in almost amusement, she walked over and dropped her towel onto a spot beside him.

"Can you not keep it in your pants for more than an hour Dick?" Monet asked dryly, looking down at him with a playful smirk.

[cantstopmoving]

He hears the footsteps and recognizes the weight of them before she even speaks. Which is why he doesn't stop stroking it. Just shifts his thoughts to her.

"I'm not wearing pants," Dick drawls lazily, heat-slowed and aroused. He doesn't even bother opening his eyes.

[misformutant]

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Monet replied, watching him with half lidded eyes as he kept stroking. She felt a dip in her stomach, a low thrum of desire as she watched him and she felt the colour rising in her cheeks. Not out of embarassment though, she wanted him. "You keep doing that and you'll go blind."

She pulled the beach kaftan over her head and dropped it next to her, kneeling down on the towel she bent over him and placed a gentle and almost chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away. "You need a hand with anything Dick?"

[cantstopmoving]

The usual dry tone's missing from her voice. That's enough to get him to open his eyes. And see her watching him. Not just watching. Wanting.

Dick smiles slow and strokes faster, hips lifting for his own touch. A tiny gasp for a jolt of heat and precome. God, Monet. "You know..." He rolls his head to the side to meet her gaze. "They keep saying that, but I've been at it for more than fifteen years."

He pauses, parts his lips in invitation, then snakes an arm out for her waist and rolls toward her at the same time. "I could use a hand. Or a mouth. Or something else hot and wet. You offering, gorgeous, or just adding to the fantasy?"

[healerofharms]

She'd been off in training. The bruises were in top of bruises, and Jill stretched as she took a deep breath. Honestly, she'd been off the last few days - lack of sleep would do that, and she found it infinitely easier to stay up reading as long as possible rather then just have nightmares for hours.

That damned Chair.

She huffed out a breath, before running through the sand. Feet heavy, trying for exhaustion - she dreamt less.

She was ruminating on her dreams - her profession kind of lended itself to it, and didn't notice Dick until-

Oh.

Oh.

He was- And-

"Oh, oh, my. I-" The words just spilled out of her mouth, her eyes incredibly wide as she stopped so abruptly that she was off balance, backpedaling. "Sorry- I-" Oh.

Oh.

[cantstopmoving]

Running footsteps disturb an alley blow job fantasy that's been one of his favorites since he learned to give one. He stills his hand over his cock and pretends to be asleep.

More for the sake of whoever's--

Oh god. Jill. He really should just stay "asleep" but he has to laugh. He can't help it.

For the sake of her already abused modesty, he rolls over. Quickly. "Hi, Jill." His grin is shameless, as warm and bright as ever.

He doesn't care if she sees him naked.

[healerofharms]

She's staring, for a second.

Mostly because-

He didn't have any clothes on. Any. At all. Not even kind of.

And she was looking up, away from him, her voice choked, almost wavering. "Hi," she squeaked. "I- D-" She backed up a step, then another. "I should probably-"

She could blame the rock for making her trip. That, and she wasn't looking where she was going in the slightest, because the sky was mighty interesting. But she was falling, and there wasn't much she could do but go with it - except that she really didn't want to land on the rock behind her, and she was off enough that it was an actual danger.

[cantstopmoving]

She backs a step. There's a rock behind her. "Jill." Sharp command voice, but she's too busy freaking out over staring to hear him.

He ducks his head and rolls forward, coming to his feet in a smooth, easy movement. Shoots out an arm and grabs hers before she hits the ground. "Got you, princess."

It makes no difference that his cock's waving in the breeze. Letting a woman bruise herself to protect her modesty isn't in his genetic makeup. As soon as she's balanced, he reaches behind him and snags the towel. He's wrapping it around his waist when he says, "It's fine. Really."

[endlessdel]

Delirium stopped pausing at the edge of the beach to catch her breath and wipe her brow. There was no way she could keep doing this everyday not in this heat and certainly not as she got bigger. She just needed to be cool, she just needed the fresh air rolling off the water and she just needed to be with her fishies. Naked man was a bonus though.

"hi NAkED mAN anD nAKED man'S dicK," Delirium said, waving at Dick lying down in the sand and giggling softly. Delirium peeled her t-shirt off and wriggled out of her skirt, leaving her just in a pair of lurid blue panties and a bright pink fishnet body stocking. "goiNG FOR a swiM With the fishiES EXCept nOT a swiM with the fishiES LiKE THe mAFia kiND. thE OTHER kiND WHerE you acTUALLY Swim with fishiES."

[cantstopmoving]

He's pretending to be asleep until she starts talking. Then he's just laughing.

Cracking open his eyes, he rolls up on one elbow to look at her and grins, shameless. "Naked Dick's dick, if you want to be precise." Usually Dick jokes are Roy's thing. Roy's not here and she's cute.

Pregnant, though. Hm. "Should you be out in the heat, princess?" They never got around to names, last time. But he still feels like he knows her. He's working on it.

[endlessdel]

"iT's VeRy nicE, i COULD CUrL MY TOngue aroUND it and puT it aLL in MY moUTH AND StiLL SiNG THE NationaL ANTHem of Mmmm caNada. nOT THAT it's smALL, i'M Just very... Mmm WOrd that MEANS soMEThing." Delirium said, pointing to her lips to indicate perhaps a large mouth or maybe something else. Del wasn't sure. At his question she pointed to the hat on her head and the bag of water, fruit, suncream and various other sundries that she was enforced to take out of the Compound before leaving. "nOPe bUt i wantED A Swim. TOO HoT AND i nEED TO Be... CooLEr. aND thEN i'M GoinG TO LAzE abOUT in thE COMPOUND ANd be ZEn."

[cantstopmoving]

He's not sure whether he's just been hit on, subjected to a fit of pregnancy hormones, or she's just crazy. It doesn't matter. It probably doesn't hurt that she's a redhead.

"You could." Playful, he opens his hand. Flirting with his cock. New low, even for you. Still, she's smiling and so's he. No harm in it. "I usually like to know a girl's name before I sample her talents, though."

Even though she's well-prepared, he's glad she came out here where he can make sure she doesn't collapse from heatstroke. He'll keep an eye on her.

[one__song]

After 3 years on that island, Roger had seen things. Lots of things. Surely the sight before him wasn't entirely foreign, but it was unusual. There was a whole thing about decency (like the shitstorm with Maureen's little sex stint with Jack on the radio, for instance, and the murmurs about the strip club, of which Roger was going to be a proud bartender/musician) that Roger very much liked to ignore, mainly because as a rockstar, it was his job to ignore such things. He hadn't, however, been naked on the beach in quite some time. He'd had sex on the beach, but not with himself, there had been other parties involved. Tonks, actually

[cantstopmoving]

Mostly has devolved into not at all. He said goodbye, back in the caves, with Tim to witness. But part of him knows Bruce will always come for him...and it doesn't make sense, at all, that they're carbon copies of themselves and no one knows they're missing. Their worlds have to be different, it doesn't take much...an antelope sneeze or however that goes

[one__song]

Jesus Christ, this guy knew what he was doing. Well, clearly he knew what he was doing - it's not hard to please yourself - but he was jerking off on a fucking beach and he was just... going for it. Like, really going for it. Elbow deep, no shame, and for a few long moments, Roger envied him, weird as it fucking was. When was the last time Roger felt so comfortable with himself that he has just damned the situation and gone for it? It couldn't have been anytime in the last 3 years beacause the public service announcement he had to give before any sexual encounter took most of the spontaneity out of it, so it was probably before that. Fuck, it was probably when Roger was hopped up on smack and confused and too fucking high to know he wasn't in private...

The weight on his back was beginning to grate on him, like he could feel the strain of the muscles contacting and somehow making the temperature at his core rise (right, because that's what it is, Roger tormented himself), and he pulled at the tie of the twine. The weight was

[cantstopmoving]

There's brick under his hands and cheek... He's been hauled unceremoniously to his feet...pushed up against the wall... possessive, demanding gauntled hands on his hips...

Once my Robin, always my Robin. Bruce's voice, gravelly through the cowl. Mine.

He's leaking, hips pushed back and begging for it. Bruce drags down his uniform pants and--

Clunk-clatter.

Dick sits bolt upright, staring in the direction of the sound. He locates a guy who looks about one-twenty soaking wet and eyes so wide he might embarrass himself to death. Familiar. Guitar player. Roger Davis, Tim said at the masque. Roger Davis...

RENT.

Laughing, Dick rolls back to his back, leaning up on one arm. "Tell me your name and I'll make sure to dedicate this one to you." He's not as close as he was a few seconds ago, but it won't take long to get back there.

[thedoctordances]

Some days Beverly ran with Dale, but today she hadn't had much time in the morning what with clinic maintenance, and then the middle of the day was far too hot to do much of anything except sit and read, and so it was late afternoon before it was cool enough to take to the beach. The wind off the ocean provided at least some respite.

And, she discovered, as she nearly tripped over a half-asleep naked man, she hadn't been the only one with that idea. Some would have been shocked, but Beverly had several things in her favor--being from the twenty-fourth century, being a mom and a doctor, and having been to Betazed.

This sort of thing didn't get to her much anymore. Mostly, it just inspired a mental comment about the nature of human men, and more pieces of a puzzle she'd already begun to figure out. Masks were irrelevant when you'd memorized Gray's Anatomy.

"Sunburn there's going to hurt like hell," she noted. "Considering we don't know the ozone levels. But you don't mind, do you, N."

[cantstopmoving]

Always alert, Dick hears the rustle of fabric and the slide of feet in sand before she gets close. Quick look under the pretense of REM sleep. Beverly. Hm.

He's just about to discreetly tuck his comm under the edge of the blanket when she starts talking. He does it anyway, but by the time she gets to the end, there's no point. Tension pulls his jaw and shoulders taut; years of protecting the Secret haven't dulled with the knowledge that it's not.

Eyes open, watching her, he exhales a slow ten count, relaxing, then smiles, almost sheepish. "At home, no one knows. I'm still getting used to people who do. What gave me away?"

[thedoctordances]

Beverly looked back at him, fearless in her way. "The way you move," she said, casually. "Which is why most people who're leading double lives don't do a gold medal floor routine in both forms, and I wouldn't have even needed thirty years in medical practice to tell."

She shrugged. "But you probably figured that out. Dick."

The way he reacted to her reveal was also rather revealing in its own right; it told her a lot about home for him, and that was the part she understood the least. She always had. Kyril Finn had been the same--some people brought her edge out.

[cantstopmoving]

"Most people don't ever meet Nightwing. The ones that do either know Dick or never see him in a situation where the similarities would be obvious." When he'd worked on the force in Bludhaven, that's exactly what had happened. And Tim had found him and Bruce the same way.

Something in her tone implies judgment, which raises Nightwing's hackles but not Dick's. If she heard him thinking, she'd probably think he was schizophrenic. He's not even unstable. It's useful to class the reactions when honed instincts can't be trusted with how to act. Like now. He can't try to cow her into submission or scare her, and he doesn't want to. So, think first then talk.

Tim and Bruce would be proud.

He rolls over and leans up on his elbows, studying her. "You don't approve." It's not a question. He's not looking for a head-pat. The only person whose approval he works his ass off for gave it years ago. It is an invitation. He likes her. Respects her. And a good leader listens.