Cupid Kills
Summary: After his conversation with Grace, Roy did some thinking, and that's never a good thing.
Warnings: This is set right after Outsiders 11, so it does contain spoilers for that issue.
Comments: Thanks go to j_crew_guy for the beta,
workingslacker for the encouragment, and thete1 for posting about Bartleby.com, which is where I found the title. *g*

Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps. - Hero, in Much Ado About Nothing, act 3, sc. 1, l. 106.

**********

Roy had always considered himself to be a roll with the punches kind of guy. He'd get knocked down, he'd get right back up again. He'd get hit, he'd hit back. He'd get shot five times in the chest, he'd... suffer a slight breakdown and take styling advice from a six-year-old.

He ruefully stroked his smooth chin. "Uncle Ollie, my ass."

"Uh," Dick gave him a funny little glance over the shower partition. "Is this going to be a private
moment between you and your memories, or can I stay?"

Roy snorted and peered through the mist. "Ewww. And, may I counter with, that line of thinking's pretty ironic coming from the original Whore Wonder."

"Whore Wonder?” Dick snickered. “How long have you been waiting to use that one?"

"Too long, my friend."

"Well, it's nice. Very original."

Roy watched as his friend begin to shampoo his hair.  "Really?"

"No, not really. I first heard that my second month on the job from this guy working down at the docks bringing in shipments of heroin." Dick stuck his head under the spray. "Of course that was the only time I heard it too."

"That so?” Roy vigorously rubbed at his own scalp.  “'Cause with those hot pants, I'd thought you would have invited lots of comments like that."

Dick scowled. "They were not *hot pants*. They were-"

"Short shorts."

"Cram it, Speedy."

"Cram what, where, Robbie?"

Dick briefly rested his head against the tile wall.  "Why do I even try to have conversations with you?"

Roy responded by singing loudly, and mostly off-key while doing a little booty shaking dance under the spray. "Who wears short shorts? Dick wears short shorts."

"I swear to God, if I hear any member of this team, *especially* Grace, hum a single bar of that song, I'll--"

"Yeesh.” Roy turned off his water, and reached for a towel. “Somebody's sensitive. So, come on, finish the story. Why didn't Whore Wonder catch on as a fun and pithy new nickname?"

Dick took the towel that Roy was offering and scrubbed it over his hair. "Batman castrated the guy who said it."

Roy stopped fast in the middle of drying himself.  "Dick... please tell me you're joking."

Dick wrapped his towel around his waist and shrugged. "Batman had thrown a batarang at this other thug, only the guy dodged, and the 'rang deflected off a steel shipping container, flipped around and headed straight for the first guy who was bending over to pick up a gun."

"Oh... God..."

"Yep, if it had just been a little higher, or a little lower... But, no. With that trajectory, and speed... both testicles were crushed."

Roy stared as his friend calmly walked out into the locker room. He quickly followed. "You made that up."

Dick shrugged. "No one ever tried to insinuate anything about me again. At least, not where one of
us could hear it."

"You did! You just made that up!"

"If you don't believe me, ask Bruce sometime."

"Oh, yeah, I can see how that conversation would go."  Roy shuddered and opened his locker. "He might try for a repeat performance."

"In that case you probably shouldn't.” Dick smirked.  “If anything happened to Little Roy, Grace would be pissed."

"First of all, 'little'?! And, secondly... I don't know what you're talking about."

Dick snorted. "Riiight. I may have been raised by an emotionally stifled, socially inept paranoid, but
I'm not stupid."

Roy pulled on his pants and considered his options.  "Fine. We have a thing."

"Is it serious?"

"God, no!" Roy noticed the raised eyebrow, and vaguely disapproving set to Dick's mouth. "Don't
worry, we're in complete agreement about that."

"Kind of a best friends with benefits deal, huh?"

"Nah, that would be us." Roy blinked. "Uh, that is--"

"You propositioning me, big boy?" Dick fluttered his eyelashes.

Roy threw his used towel at Dick's head. "Stop that!" He went back to dressing, and tried to ignore his friend's laughter. "Grace and me, as crude as it sounds, are more like fuckbuddies."

"You're right. That does sound crude."

“Hmph.” Roy bit back a few choice things he could have said regarding Dick’s former bedmates. But, it wouldn’t do to completely piss the guy off, especially with where he was about to direct the conversation.  "You know, she thinks we'd make a cute couple."

"Hmmm?"

"Grace.” Roy hazarded a glance at Dick. “She said that we have sexual tension. That there's this erotic Butch/Sundance vibe going on."

For a moment there was silence as Dick mulled over that last comment. "I'm Butch, right?"

Roy puffed his chest out. "If anyone in this relationship would be *Butch*, it would be me."

"Roy, you are a lot of things, but Paul Newman isn't one of them."

"I can be suave!"

"Mmm hmm."

“I can!”

“Right. You just choose not to.”

“Exactly!” Roy buckled his belt and took a deep breath. “So, you want to try it?”

Dick froze in the middle of tucking in his tee shirt. “Try what?”

Roy tried on his best grin. “Us. You and me. Butch,” he gestured to himself, “and Sundance.” His arm swept out towards Dick, who, at the moment closely resembled a small animal caught in the halogens of a tractor trailer.

Dick cleared his throat. “I know you had heart surgery, but did the doctors decide to tweak your brain too?”

“Ha. Avoidance. Bad Batboy. I’m being serious.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah. I really am.”

“Okay.” Dick shut his locker and leaned against it.  “Do you mind if I ask where this is coming from?  Correct me if I’m wrong, but this desire to jump my bones is a new thing, right?”

Roy grimaced. “Jumping of bones... I hadn’t quite thought it through to that part yet.”

Dick snorted. “Why am I not surprised? Is all this just because of what Grace said?

“Partly.” Roy closed his eyes. “You know, I can’t count the number of times I’ve been close to dying. If anyone in our business can, they’re either lying, or not doing something right. But, I’ve never had to have my heart cut open before.” His hand absently rubbed at the cloth covering the long pink scar bisecting his chest. “I’ve been thinking about making a change for a while now, Grace just opened my eyes to new possibilities, that’s all.” He looked over at Dick and smiled. “You’re my best friend. I trust you more than just about anyone else in this world. Lian adores you, and don’t tell me that you don’t feel the same about her. I think... I think we could make a good family together.”

“Oh, God...” Dick’s eyes were wide. “You’re serious.”

Roy nodded.

“Okay, let’s just skip over the whole ‘We don’t love each other' part, you’re-“

“I love you.”

Dick blinked. “Uh... But, as a friend, right? Just as a friend.”

“For now. The best relationships are built on solid friendships, Dick.”

Dick mock-glared. “Stop acting all mature. You’re starting to freak me out.”

“Heh.” Roy grinned. “Come on, you’ve got doubts.  Hit me.”

“Don’t tempt me. Look, I understand the need to make a major life change after something so traumatic, but don’t you think this is going a little too far?”

“No. Like I said, I had been thinking about making changes for a while now. Granted, before Grace’s little eye opener, I was thinking about finding a nice *woman* to settle down with, but... She made me realize that there’s a pretty good candidate right in front of me.

“I’m... honored? Roy, you’re not just talking about a fling, you’re talking about a serious commitment. I don’t think I’m ready for something like that.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been ready for commitment since the womb, Dick, it’s how you’re wired.”

“Hmm.” Dick absently scratched at his stomach.  “Speaking of wombs, that brings up another good point. I don’t have one.”

Roy blinked. “A point?”

Dick scowled. “A womb. And the various other accoutrements that come with it.”

“So Lian’s an only child? I can deal with that.”

Dick narrowed his eyes. “Can you deal with taking my cock up your ass?”

“WHOA!” Roy backed up a step. “I... whoa! Jesus, man. I thought you Batboys liked to sneak around the issue?”

“This issue’s a little too big for that,” Dick smirked. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not be celibate for the rest of my life.”

“We could always see other people on the side.” Roy blanched at Dick’s Batman-esque glare. “Kidding!  Only kidding.”

“That brings up another point.”

“It does.” Roy crossed his arms. “Oh, wonderful.”

“How do I know you’re not going to change your mind again after the next near death experience.”

“You don’t!” Roy threw his arms up. “I don’t! All I can say is, I’ve taken a nice long look at what I want out of life. I’ve got a beautiful little girl, an awesome job, a kickass Manhattan apartment. I just need somebody to share it all with.”

“God, that was schmaltzy.”

“I know. I think I need to cut back on my sugar intake.”

Dick gave his friend an exasperated, yet fond look.  “I can honestly say I didn’t come here today with the intention of making any life altering decisions.”

Roy perked up. He was sure there was an unsaid “But...” in there.

“Kiss me.”

“Uh...”

“Kiss me, Roy,” Dick said seriously. “Or, this conversation ends right here.”

“Okay. Kiss you.” Roy swallowed. “I can do that.”

“And, no closing your eyes and pretending I have breasts.”

“Damn.” Roy steeled himself. He could do this. Dick was a fairly attractive person... for a guy. All Roy had to do was treat this like any other problem.  Break it down into parts and deal with them individually.  Bright blue eyes, check. Silky black hair, check.  Luscious lower lip, cheeeeck. Creamy skin covering an elegant neck, leading down to a hard chest, six pack abs, and then a penis, yes, a penis. Check, check, check, checkcheckcheckcheckcheck...

“You look like you’re about to play tonsil hockey with a dead fish.”

“This would go better if you didn’t say anything. Uh, I mean-“

“Oh, for pete’s sake.” Dick lunged foreword propelling Roy into the second row of lockers. Before
Roy could utter anything Dick kissed him. After a moment of unresponsiveness he pulled back. “Well?”

Roy looked pensive. He licked his lips. “Try it again.”

“But-“

“Just try it again.”

Dick leaned in and once again pressed his mouth to Roy’s. This time Roy’s lips were pliant. They moved together, heads tilting for better access, mouths opening for deeper contact, tongues coming out to tentatively touch, than explore. Dick could feel Roy’s hands on his back, pulling him in closer. This was nice. Really, really nice.

“Hot damn!”

“Augh!” Both men jumped apart at the sound of the appreciative comment, and corresponding wolf
whistle.

“Grace!” Roy looked ready to cause some serious damage. “What the hell?!”

His former paramour stood just inside the door to the locker room, hip cocked, an obnoxious grin firmly planted on her face. “Well, this girl’s got jack off fantasies for the next two months. Thanks fellas.”  She crossed over to the lockers and began to strip.

“Grace, this is the men’s locker room.” Dick seethed.

With one snort the meta human managed to convey the statement ‘Like I fuckin’ care.’ She pulled her shirt over her head, then stared quizzically at her field commander. “Hey, 'Wing, that vein’s coming out on your forhead again. You should think about decaf.” She nodded sagely.

Roy grabbed his sputtering friend and herded him towards the door. He cast a final, scathing glance
at the grinning Grace before pushing Dick out into the hallway.

Dick glared at the heavy door, as if his gaze could somehow penerate the steel and properly chastise the woman beyond. Of course, considering who his mentor was, that wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

Roy decided the best course of action was to head the burgoning Bat-like behaviour off at the curve.
"She's a pistol, ain't she? Hey, why don't you come over for dinner tonight?"

Dick blinked. "Dinner? You're not going to try and cook, are you?"

"Hell no! Do you really think I'd put my little girl through something as traumatic as that? I'm thinking, pizza?"

"I don't kn-"

This time Roy instigated the kiss. His hands tangled in Dick's hair, holding him in place, so that he could take full advantage of that occasionally infuriating mouth. The tingle he had felt before, the one that started in his fingers and his toes and just worked it's way up, was back. Evidently it wasn't just a one time thing. That was good. Grace could live.

Roy gave one last buzz to Dick's lower lip before he pulled back. "Lian goes to bed at eight."

Dick looked slightly dazed, and just the tiniest bit debauched. He licked his reddened lips. "Eight,
huh?"

"Yep."

"You know this isn't going to be easy. You and me, there are going to be clashes."

Roy grinned and threw his arm around his friend's shoulders. "It's called passion, baby, passion."

Dick scowled. "Don't call me baby."

"Sweetums?"

"Roy."

"Punkin?"

"*Roy*."

"Muffin?"

"Roy!"

"Hey," Roy stared at Dick's forhead. "Grace was right, that vein *does* pop out."

Dick couldn't decide wether to bristle and face stroking out, or slump in defeat. "You're gonna be
the death of me, aren't you?"

"Ah, don't get your hot pants in a twist. I'm just playing."

"They weren't hot pants."

"Yes, they were."

"No, they weren't."

"Whatever you say, Sugar Dumpling."

"ROY!"

"Heh."


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