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21-krplnk · 18 days
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𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌.
Dick Grayson x Spider-Man Reader
AKA; one of my favorite tropes ever.
CONTAINS !!! masculine reader (only cuz they go by Spider-Man, but I kept gender/pronouns vague), LGBT reader (also kept vague), mentions of stitches, the slightest hint of bisexual Dick, could be translated as a platonic or a pre-slash relationship, and they were roommates.
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“Uh… hey.”
Pausing mid-stitch, Dick looked up at his doorway to see you standing there, your hands shoved into the pockets of your jacket. There was the slightest worried quirk to your brows, your mouth formed into a thin line, and your eyes constantly glanced down the hall like you were planning an escape route. It didn’t take his natural intuition to tell you were troubled by something. Hell, maybe even anxious.
“Hey,” he softly returned, his suturing needle still motionless in his hand. He made sure he was fully facing you, giving you all of his undivided attention as he added, “what’s up?”
“… I… uh.” You gingerly pulled a hand from your pocket to scratch your neck. “I was wondering if you had some time to… talk?”
Talk? Trying not to show his concern, he gave a reassuring smile and scooted over on his bed. “Yeah, sure, of course.” His gaze was back down on his partly stitched-up arm. “Lemme just finish up real quick. You can come in.”
As he quickly got to work with closing up the wound, he could see from the corner of his eye that you hesitated for a moment. Something was clearly weighing on your mind, and the clearer your distress was, the more suspicious he became on what this talk was going to be about. He had a pretty sure guess; relief washed over his conscious just thinking about it. This wasn’t going to be a serious talk. Well, it was, but not in a bad way. Rather, he was at least 99.99% sure it was a seriously good thing. Something to celebrate, even.
You were finally coming out to him.
Admittedly, he’s had his suspicions for a while. He’s known you for a while, enough to trust you with his secret as Nightwing, so he’s picked up on the subtleties you’ve left for him, whether you were aware of it at the time or not. But it was all just speculation until you moved in as his roommate, where he could basically observe you under a microscope 24/7. And when you suddenly became more withdrawn from him, he was vehemently convinced he was right.
Now, despite being pretty sure he’s known before you even knew, he never asked you outright. It’d make him feel terrible if you felt pressured to come out of the closet before you were ready, so he gladly gave you all the time you needed to tell him directly. And of course this didn’t go without dropping subtle hints that he loves you and supports you through all your endeavors.
The bed dipped as you finally sat down on it, just in time for him to tie off his stitch. “So,” he began, trying to keep the knowingness out of his tone, “what did you wanna talk about?”
You didn’t say answer immediately. Rather, you took to staring at his bedroom carpet for a few moments, presumably getting your thoughts organized. “I… need to tell you something.”
Oh, he’s definitely right about this. “Okay…?”
Another moment of silence happened between you two. “… I’ve been keeping this secret for… for a while. And I thought you’d be mad at first, cuz I never told you, cuz I-I was kinda scared, and… well…” you softly shook your head, like you were shaking away an oncoming tangent. “Well, I guess I realized… that… I shouldn’t have been. I shouldn’t have been scared.”
He couldn’t help but put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “(Y/N)…”
“Promise me things won’t change,” you softly pleaded. It was then you finally looked up at him with an apprehension. “Promise things won’t be… different… between us… please?”
“I promise,” Dick confirmed, voice dripping with pure sincerity and encouragement. “(Y/N), things would never be different between us. Not because of something like this. I care for you. And I always will.”
There were several seconds where you scanned his face, trying to find an inkling of a lie. After realizing he was being serious, you took a deep, shuddery breath. “Dick…”
He then watched as you brought a shaky hand up to the zipper of your jacket.
… Woah, woah, woah, wait a minute.
Before he could even process what you could possibly be doing, you pulled open your now unzipped jacket and turned to face him. All he could do was stare dumbly at your scrunched-up grimace as you finally dropped the bombshell.
“… I’m Spider-Man.”
… Huh?
Slowly, his eyes braved the trip downwards to your chest, only to be met by an all-too infamous spider symbol. Oh… Spider-Man. You’re Spider-Man. This was not the coming-out talk he was expecting. At all. Any coherent thought he previously had was thrown out the window in favor of processing… this. You’ve been Spider-Man this entire time and he had no fucking clue? What the hell? How did he just… not pick up on this? Was this why you became so withdrawn? You felt like you had to hide this secret from him of all people? Your own vigilante roommate?
… Ironically, these were probably the same questions he’d have if you actually were coming out to him… in a world where he didn’t already figure it out, anyway.
“… Oh,” was all he could say. He owlishly blinked at the insignia on your chest before looking back up at you. “Wow. Uh… okay. Holy shit, uh…” he ran a hand through his hair, trying to recompose himself. He had this whole spiel prepared about how he more than happily accepts you for who you are, but it became quite apparent he has to make some adjustments on the fly. “You’re Spider-Man. Cool. I… I had no idea.”
You cracked an eye open, cautiously gaging his reaction. “You’re not… mad?”
“Well, I… can’t say I’m not shocked.” He sent a quick glance at the spider symbol. “I mean… I kinda pride myself on my detective skills, so… I guess I’m a little thrown off for not suspecting anything.” His jaw tightened a bit. “You really went above and beyond to hide this from me.”
“I-I know it’s kinda stupid, but… I mean…” you rubbed the back of your neck. “I don’t know, I thought you’d be mad that I didn’t come to you initially after the spider bite.”
He could only stare at you with a blank expression. “A spider bit you?”
“Uh… long story.”
“… Well, then.” He laid back on his bed, resting his hands behind his head as he stared at his ceiling. “Spider-Man’s my roommate. That’s cool. Uh… lotta questions, but I still gotta, y’know, process this.” He turned his attention back on them. “And not because I’m mad or anything. I just… was picturing a whole different conversation when you asked to talk.”
While you seemed to visibly relax at how he was taking this, you also cocked your head to the side in a quizzical matter. “What do you mean?”
“Hope I’m not making any horribly off-base presumptions,” (even though he was certain he was 100% right,) “but I actually thought you finally coming out to me.”
Now it was your turn to be thrown for a loop. After taking in what he said, you turned to face the wall with a simple, “oh” spilling from your mouth. “Guess it was only a matter of time before you figured me out, huh.”
“Hey, I know a thing or two because I’ve seen a thing or two,” he lightly joked.
You looked at him curiously, but didn’t pry, instead shucking off your jacket to fully expose the top half of your suit. “And yet…” you offered him a humored smirk, “you didn’t figure out I was Spider-Man? How does that make sense?”
“I have no frickin’ idea,” he exasperatedly groaned. “So, you mean to say you’ve been sneaking out to do your little spider thing this entire time? Right under my nose?”
“Kinda helps when you sneak out and do your little bat thing,” you countered with a sheepish shrug.
“And speaking of which,” he hoisted himself up into a sitting position, pointer finger jabbing accusingly at you, “we are so patrolling together tomorrow. I wanna see all your neat tricks up close. Got it?”
A warm chuckle bubbles from your chest. “Aye aye, Mr. Nightwing sir.” You even saluted him to sell your tiny quip. “Same time? 6:30?”
“If that works for you, itsy-bitsy.” After giving out his own chuckle, he quirked a brow at you. “But… I gotta know.”
“Yeah?”
“Where do… like… your webs come from?”
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