(no subject)
Random Roy/Dick-ish, Roy/Grace-ish.
Unbeta-ed, un-Americaned, because notpoetry is off having fun without me.
Titillation of the Imagination
"Tell me about your first time," Grace says.
"What?" Roy says. He knows he sounds stupid but it's two minutes after he blew his brain out with one of those Grace-special orgasms so being able to form words at all is something of an achievement. "Why?"
Grace shifts under his head. "Because I want to get horny again. Tell me about your first time with Nightwing."
Roy sighs. "Grace, for the billionth time, I am not fucking Nightwing."
"Whatever you say." Grace's hand is heavy and comforting as she rubs his hair. "But tell me about it anyway."
"Only if you accept it's just your dirty mind."
"I accept it." Grace sounds cheerfully dishonest and Roy didn't expect anything less.
"When do you want it to be?" He rolls over and looks at her. "Sweet, innocent little boys, finding our way?" He flutters his eyelashes and he likes the way Grace laughs. Deep down, buried and gurgling. "Or later on? Maybe when I was just kicking the heroin and I was grabbing at anything that would distract me, even if it was just for a minute."
Grace's eyes narrow at that and her breathing changes. "Not that," she says and her hand closes a little on the back of his head. "I think you've been flirting for fucking years. I know you, Harper. And that's why I think that you never actually did anything until a few weeks ago."
"That's what you think, is it?" Roy says and hopes he doesn't sound as sucker-punched as he thinks he does. "And that's what you want to hear?"
"Yeah." Grace lies back and stretches luxuriously. "Tell me a story."
"So," Roy says, watching her breasts rise and fall as she breathes, "we were in the gym."
"Of course. Where else would you two ever actually communicate?"
"Shut up," Roy says easily. "We were in the gym. Sparring."
"Physical contact." Grace runs her hand down Roy's spine.
"Yeah, we're just so desperate to touch each other than we beat the crap out of each other on a regular basis. I had him pinned."
"He wanted to be pinned," Grace says. "He wanted the feel of you straddling him, thighs against his hips."
"Am I telling this story or are you?"
"Hell, I think I'd be better at it."
Roy ignores her. "Last time I had him pinned, Jade interrupted. Time before that, he pulled a gun on me."
"Phallic symbol."
Roy reaches over and tickles Grace. She squirms a little, then punches his hip, just hard enough to be on the edge between teasing and serious. He gets the message and stops tickling. "This time, he just looked up at me."
"Was he wearing his mask?"
Roy has to think about it. He's so used to Dick in the mask, so used to reading him in the mask that it's difficult to remember when he does and doesn't wear it. "No," he finally says. "I don't think so."
"Naked," Grace says with satisfaction.
"He was dressed," Roy says, deliberately misunderstanding. He can feel Grace rolling her eyes. "He looked up at me and grinned." Not a real grin, though. Something hurt and desperate under it.
"Broodywing can grin?"
"Yeah," Roy says quietly and lets himself, just for a moment, remember the old days, when they all laughed. But then he brings himself back to Grace and says, "Then he did one of his gymnastic things and flipped us over, so I was on my back staring up at him."
Grace wriggles a little. "Now it's starting to sound good. Did he kiss you?"
"Not right then. He had both my arms above my head, held in one of his hands."
"So you could have broken free?"
"Probably."
"And you didn't. Oh, yeah. Then what?"
Roy shuts his eyes; tries to imagine the gym's hard floor under his back, instead of Grace's too-soft bed. "His other hand. He rested it on my chest."
"Left or right?"
"Hmm?"
"Left or right hand?"
"Oh." Roy thought. "His right."
"Mmm... Carry on."
"He slid his hand down. Tugged my shirt out of my pants and pushed his hand up under it."
"Was he wearing his gloves?"
"No." Roy can almost feel the grittiness of Dick's hand on his belly and the little archer is starting to take interest in the proceedings.
"I always knew it'd be up to him to make the first move." Grace sounds smug. "What then?"
"He said some stuff. Nothing important."
"Standard porn dialogue," Grace says dismissively. "Get on with the action. Did he kiss you?"
"No. He unfastened my pants and pulled out my cock."
"That's action." She's grinning. "Did he jerk you off?"
Roy wishes he hadn't started this. "No. Blew me."
"Was he any good?"
Roy shrugs. "Not bad. But nobody can live up to a decade of anticipation." Dick could.
"Only a decade?" He can feel Grace roll on to her belly and look down at him. "Come on, Harper. You're not giving me any of the juicy details."
Roy shakes his head. "You can fill them in yourself." He sighs and rests his head on his arms. "He blew me. I came. He swallowed. He kissed me."
"Did he fuck you?"
Roy shakes his head again. "That's all there was."
"You didn't return the favour? Not like you."
"He wasn't hard," Roy says quietly. "He didn't want me. He just wanted..." He shrugs. He thinks he knows what Dick wanted but even if he could put it into words, he wouldn't share it with Grace.
Grace thuds back down on to the bed. "If you were making this up," she says thoughtfully, "you're even more fucked up than I thought. If you were telling the truth..." She pauses for a long time. "If you were telling the truth, it's a damn good job Jade mutinied."
On both occasions I've written Grace, she's been obsessed with the Roy/Dick. It's incredible how much effect one speech bubble has on me.
Unbeta-ed, un-Americaned, because notpoetry is off having fun without me.
Titillation of the Imagination
"Tell me about your first time," Grace says.
"What?" Roy says. He knows he sounds stupid but it's two minutes after he blew his brain out with one of those Grace-special orgasms so being able to form words at all is something of an achievement. "Why?"
Grace shifts under his head. "Because I want to get horny again. Tell me about your first time with Nightwing."
Roy sighs. "Grace, for the billionth time, I am not fucking Nightwing."
"Whatever you say." Grace's hand is heavy and comforting as she rubs his hair. "But tell me about it anyway."
"Only if you accept it's just your dirty mind."
"I accept it." Grace sounds cheerfully dishonest and Roy didn't expect anything less.
"When do you want it to be?" He rolls over and looks at her. "Sweet, innocent little boys, finding our way?" He flutters his eyelashes and he likes the way Grace laughs. Deep down, buried and gurgling. "Or later on? Maybe when I was just kicking the heroin and I was grabbing at anything that would distract me, even if it was just for a minute."
Grace's eyes narrow at that and her breathing changes. "Not that," she says and her hand closes a little on the back of his head. "I think you've been flirting for fucking years. I know you, Harper. And that's why I think that you never actually did anything until a few weeks ago."
"That's what you think, is it?" Roy says and hopes he doesn't sound as sucker-punched as he thinks he does. "And that's what you want to hear?"
"Yeah." Grace lies back and stretches luxuriously. "Tell me a story."
"So," Roy says, watching her breasts rise and fall as she breathes, "we were in the gym."
"Of course. Where else would you two ever actually communicate?"
"Shut up," Roy says easily. "We were in the gym. Sparring."
"Physical contact." Grace runs her hand down Roy's spine.
"Yeah, we're just so desperate to touch each other than we beat the crap out of each other on a regular basis. I had him pinned."
"He wanted to be pinned," Grace says. "He wanted the feel of you straddling him, thighs against his hips."
"Am I telling this story or are you?"
"Hell, I think I'd be better at it."
Roy ignores her. "Last time I had him pinned, Jade interrupted. Time before that, he pulled a gun on me."
"Phallic symbol."
Roy reaches over and tickles Grace. She squirms a little, then punches his hip, just hard enough to be on the edge between teasing and serious. He gets the message and stops tickling. "This time, he just looked up at me."
"Was he wearing his mask?"
Roy has to think about it. He's so used to Dick in the mask, so used to reading him in the mask that it's difficult to remember when he does and doesn't wear it. "No," he finally says. "I don't think so."
"Naked," Grace says with satisfaction.
"He was dressed," Roy says, deliberately misunderstanding. He can feel Grace rolling her eyes. "He looked up at me and grinned." Not a real grin, though. Something hurt and desperate under it.
"Broodywing can grin?"
"Yeah," Roy says quietly and lets himself, just for a moment, remember the old days, when they all laughed. But then he brings himself back to Grace and says, "Then he did one of his gymnastic things and flipped us over, so I was on my back staring up at him."
Grace wriggles a little. "Now it's starting to sound good. Did he kiss you?"
"Not right then. He had both my arms above my head, held in one of his hands."
"So you could have broken free?"
"Probably."
"And you didn't. Oh, yeah. Then what?"
Roy shuts his eyes; tries to imagine the gym's hard floor under his back, instead of Grace's too-soft bed. "His other hand. He rested it on my chest."
"Left or right?"
"Hmm?"
"Left or right hand?"
"Oh." Roy thought. "His right."
"Mmm... Carry on."
"He slid his hand down. Tugged my shirt out of my pants and pushed his hand up under it."
"Was he wearing his gloves?"
"No." Roy can almost feel the grittiness of Dick's hand on his belly and the little archer is starting to take interest in the proceedings.
"I always knew it'd be up to him to make the first move." Grace sounds smug. "What then?"
"He said some stuff. Nothing important."
"Standard porn dialogue," Grace says dismissively. "Get on with the action. Did he kiss you?"
"No. He unfastened my pants and pulled out my cock."
"That's action." She's grinning. "Did he jerk you off?"
Roy wishes he hadn't started this. "No. Blew me."
"Was he any good?"
Roy shrugs. "Not bad. But nobody can live up to a decade of anticipation." Dick could.
"Only a decade?" He can feel Grace roll on to her belly and look down at him. "Come on, Harper. You're not giving me any of the juicy details."
Roy shakes his head. "You can fill them in yourself." He sighs and rests his head on his arms. "He blew me. I came. He swallowed. He kissed me."
"Did he fuck you?"
Roy shakes his head again. "That's all there was."
"You didn't return the favour? Not like you."
"He wasn't hard," Roy says quietly. "He didn't want me. He just wanted..." He shrugs. He thinks he knows what Dick wanted but even if he could put it into words, he wouldn't share it with Grace.
Grace thuds back down on to the bed. "If you were making this up," she says thoughtfully, "you're even more fucked up than I thought. If you were telling the truth..." She pauses for a long time. "If you were telling the truth, it's a damn good job Jade mutinied."
On both occasions I've written Grace, she's been obsessed with the Roy/Dick. It's incredible how much effect one speech bubble has on me.