Dick slammed another shot of tequila, and another, regarding Kyle with a pleasant smile as if he'd been sipping spring water and not his fifth round of hard liquor. Dios, the Bats were all crazy, even the ones that seemed normal most of the time. Had Bruce trained him to resist the effects of alcohol? Kyle imagined a row of little Robins in their red tunics and green booties, chugging from beer tankards while Batman walked their ranks and rapped the knuckles of anyone who hiccupped.
"I'm fine," Kyle promised, and he realized Dick hadn't asked. It felt like the appropriate disclaimer before throwing back the small glass, tequila rolling sour down his throat before he chased it with a salted lime. The room tilted when he brought his chin level with his gaze, and the relaxed muscles in his mouth couldn't quite prevent juice from the lime wedge trickling down his jaw.
Dick was halfway across the table, nimble fingers pressing into Kyle's wrists, and his tongue followed the sticky stripe of citrus. His eyelashes were long and dark against the high cheekbones that made him look like something sculpted, something etched across canvas with sloping lines and a heavy hand. The lashes fluttered, and up close like this, Dick's eyes revealed his drunken haze even if he'd seemed collected otherwise.
Their gaze connected a little too long, Dick's hands still firm on his arms, and Kyle felt the need to say something. "Lime is one of my favorite fruits, yum. Key lime pie is the best. Steph and I had this key lime pie in New Orleans and--"
"I love limes," Dick cut him off, kissing the lingering trail of juice under Kyle's mouth to prove his point. "I love anything that's green."
Kyle turned his head aside, but only a little, because he was too drunk for sudden movements and because he didn't hate this, not entirely. "Not anything, maybe? Just certain things that are green, that maybe you had once, and maybe you still want them back and maybe you don't really know. We're not interchangeable, Dick."
"I know that!" The shot glasses shattered on the floor as the table shook under the force of Dick dragging Kyle closer, and Kyle brought his arms up to grip Dick by the lapels of his stupid weird leather-cowboy jacket thing, what the hell, it was probably expensive but he wasn't going to be hauled around just because Dick drank enough to trip the lock of whatever vault held all his buried anger. "I'm sorry," Dick said, eyes widening in a moment of clarity, and he released Kyle and fell back into his chair.
Kyle shrugged and stuck a lime wedge in his mouth because this thing with Dick and Bette and Guy wasn't his business, and he didn't know what advice to give any of them, and he didn't think Dick was looking for advice, really. Dick met his eyes again after a moment's hesitance, and Kyle smiled at him with the green lime peel stuffed between his lips.
Dick threw his head back and laughed, and he carefully arranged a wedge in his mouth to mirror Kyle's green grin.
no subject
"I'm fine," Kyle promised, and he realized Dick hadn't asked. It felt like the appropriate disclaimer before throwing back the small glass, tequila rolling sour down his throat before he chased it with a salted lime. The room tilted when he brought his chin level with his gaze, and the relaxed muscles in his mouth couldn't quite prevent juice from the lime wedge trickling down his jaw.
Dick was halfway across the table, nimble fingers pressing into Kyle's wrists, and his tongue followed the sticky stripe of citrus. His eyelashes were long and dark against the high cheekbones that made him look like something sculpted, something etched across canvas with sloping lines and a heavy hand. The lashes fluttered, and up close like this, Dick's eyes revealed his drunken haze even if he'd seemed collected otherwise.
Their gaze connected a little too long, Dick's hands still firm on his arms, and Kyle felt the need to say something. "Lime is one of my favorite fruits, yum. Key lime pie is the best. Steph and I had this key lime pie in New Orleans and--"
"I love limes," Dick cut him off, kissing the lingering trail of juice under Kyle's mouth to prove his point. "I love anything that's green."
Kyle turned his head aside, but only a little, because he was too drunk for sudden movements and because he didn't hate this, not entirely. "Not anything, maybe? Just certain things that are green, that maybe you had once, and maybe you still want them back and maybe you don't really know. We're not interchangeable, Dick."
"I know that!" The shot glasses shattered on the floor as the table shook under the force of Dick dragging Kyle closer, and Kyle brought his arms up to grip Dick by the lapels of his stupid weird leather-cowboy jacket thing, what the hell, it was probably expensive but he wasn't going to be hauled around just because Dick drank enough to trip the lock of whatever vault held all his buried anger. "I'm sorry," Dick said, eyes widening in a moment of clarity, and he released Kyle and fell back into his chair.
Kyle shrugged and stuck a lime wedge in his mouth because this thing with Dick and Bette and Guy wasn't his business, and he didn't know what advice to give any of them, and he didn't think Dick was looking for advice, really. Dick met his eyes again after a moment's hesitance, and Kyle smiled at him with the green lime peel stuffed between his lips.
Dick threw his head back and laughed, and he carefully arranged a wedge in his mouth to mirror Kyle's green grin.