Hey! Hope you’re having a good day! Also: I wish you’d write a fic where someone got married.😊

writingtheworks:

WE LOVE DICK IN THIS HOUSE. Also this reminded me to start reading Dick’s solo series from the 90s, so thank you!!!

_

“I want to show you something,” Dick whispered.

Your eyes flickered from his to the crowd around you. Knowing that this was the wedding of a bat meant knowing you were also in the presence of a dozen lip-readers, so you pressed your cheek into his and smiled against your husband’s shoulder.

“We can’t exactly escape discreetly here. You see we’re, uh, sorta the life of the party…” You loosely gestured to the ring of observers, some sitting at the tables, others watching the life of the party—the newly wedded Graysons—twirl in aimless circles in the center of the reception.

“You’re the life of the party. I’m just the life of the party’s devilishly handsome escort,” Dick giggled. 

His fingers entwined with yours, pulling you in another spin so fast that your feet skipped against the floor. (He’d mentioned that his shoes were killing him, so you decided you’d take off your shoes too. Y’know. So you could match. Also, so he wasn’t the only one getting that-is-improper glares from Alfred). The music couldn’t cover your laughter, hands jolting to his shoulders so you wouldn’t tip over.

“Slap on a tragic backstory and boom! You got a cover for your next case.” Your feet connected with the cool floor, half-tumbling over his in something that could hardly be called dancing; it was more like when bees got drunk off of sugar and would start flying around all dizzy-like.

“Boom,” Dick agreed, nodding against your hair in a flash of dazzling teeth. “But here, we don’t need to go anywhere. Put your hand in my jacket,” he whispered like it was some big secret that he wanted only you to know. “Follow the seam under my arm.”

Your palm fell against his chest, slipping under the suit jacket and across his rapidly-firing heart. It took you a moment to register what you were touching. But it was worth the random burst of laughter that made the wedding attendee’s heads turn.

When you looked up at him, you almost double-taked and definitely stuttered when you met eyes. The light around him was golden. The air seemed to purr at him affectionately, pulling back his cheeks in the biggest smile you’d possibly ever seen him wear.

“Is that what I think it is?” You questioned in disbelief, running a finger over the thread of the suit’s inner-lining.

Dick winced in a cute sort of way. “What? Nooo. I definitely wasn’t doing flips in this 5,000 dollar suit earlier, and I definitely didn’t tear the sleeve on a landing. Also—before you accuse me of anything, thank you very much—I did not fix it with duck-tape and prayed Alfred wouldn’t notice.”

“Oh, never,” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Dick stopped and stared at you. You stopped and stared at him. Then you both burst into giggles, arms tightening around the other to pull them close.

“He’s gonna kill me,” Dick muttered, breath stolen when the noise finally died down.

“Hm. Don’t worry about Alf,” you said. Dick nuzzled back into your cheek when you bumped his, dizzy and touchy and quietly lighting up when a kiss fell on his collar, “I’ll protect you.”

Dick felt like he was falling. Not like a roller-coaster fall, where your stomach comes back up to meet you on your way down. It was a hyper-aware, the-grounds-coming-up-too-fast kinda fall, where Dick’s breath hitched in his throat and his heart startled against his ribs. But then you were there. And your arms were around him, and you had caught him, just like you’d always done.

He closed his eyes against your cheek, a smile quirking his lip. “I feel safer already.”

Just like you always will.