Blackbirds

PART 2

Dick couldn't sleep. He wanted to talk to Roy but he was out of touch on Paradise Island with Wonder Woman. He rolled his eyes. His archer friend hadn't wasted any time showing up for that assignment. He glanced at the clock. Donna would still be on patrol with Batman. He winced. That wasn't going well. Although--Dick chuckled to himself--Alfred had remarked that her reorganization of Batman's utility belt had been a singularly noteworthy experience.

Batman.

Green Arrow.

The difference between Bruce and Ollie was the difference between Michaelangelo's "David" and Rodin's "The Danaiad." One was the perfect human body displayed larger than life. Godlike. Awe-inspiring. The other folded in on itself, collapsed into a stark contrast of high rounded curves and unfathomable valleys. Vulnerable. Human. Bruce's voice was darkly threatening. Ollie's held the rumble of laughter just beneath the surface

Dick got out of bed with a sigh and padded barefoot to the kitchen for some milk. The thoughts that woke him up kept him company. Truth was, he was enjoying his time here. He didn't always agree with Green Arrow but he always felt his opinion mattered. Like tonight. The archer had talked to him. They had worked through the problem. Mutual cooperation. That was how he wanted the Titans to operate.

He wondered how Batman would have handled the situation. With a start, he realized Ollie was right. Bruce Wayne would have sent a check and that would have been the end of it. Dick frowned. That, of course, would have been assuming Batman would have even noticed the destruction Robin's escapade left behind.

Dick rinsed his glass and left it in the drainer. He was troubled by the growing certainty that Batman wouldn't have noticed. He couldn't see the forest for the trees. But maybe he had to be that way. How could he focus on a handful of people when The Joker was threatening millions?

Dick leaned against the counter, arms crossed tight against his chest. It hadn't always been that way. Once upon a time he had seen an orphaned circus boy left in the wake of his crimefighting and taken him in. People. Property. Perps.

Dick walked back through the living room. One thought continued to weigh heavily on his mind: Batman's way wasn't the only way to fight crime. And maybe, he guiltily followed the idea to it's natural conclusion, maybe Batman's way wasn't Robin's way.

He stopped suddenly in Ollie's doorway, taken by the way the early light played across the archer's body as he slept. The languid ease with which Ollie stretched out on the bed. One arm comfortably tucked under his head, the other flopped carelessly across his belly. Fingers lightly curled. A line of silvery-blonde hair trailed down to a thicker patch then disappeared in the shadows. Dark nipples against tanned chest. The faint sheen of hair still damp from a late night shower.

The archer rolled onto his back with a sigh. Dick saw the unmistakeable outline of Ollie's cock twitch against the sheet. Felt his own harden in response. Caught the scent of oiled leather on the armguards. Flashed on the quick flick of tongue over lip as he concentrated on a shot. Saw in his mind the clench and release of back muscles as the archer drew and fired.

Ollie opened his eyes.