Oldest Daughter Dick™ is probably one of my favourite things ever. And it always will be and here's why:
Of course Dick loves his siblings and of course he loves that they know Bruce as the father he is. But it won't stop the jealousy he feels. And no one gets it, not even Jason. They were all raised by Bruce Wayne, he was raised by Batman.
When Dick came to live with him, Bruce had no idea how to he a father. How to handle normal kid stuff like sicknesses and school events let alone the fact he was an acrobat. He was Batman and Dick was raised to be not just his successor but the only contingency plan he had against himself.
Bruce never held his punches ("That was a good block but I still got you, didn't I?" Bruce had said, rubbing cream into the blossoming bruise on Dick's side. "I'll get you next time," Dick had promised, young eyes challenging. "You better." Bruce had grinned back.) All attacks were to remind him that he was at a disadvantage strength wise and thus needed to re-evaluate his lines of defense and offense.
Dick was raised by the paranoid-in-his-late-twenties-probably-shouldn't-be-a-dad-despite-what-Marisol-said Bat. A fun game of catch? He was dodging Batarangs. Learning to drive? It was the Batmobile and he was age 14 (and a half). School events? He was fumbling, awkward and did not want to be there (but still was because he'll be damned if his boy didn't have his support.)
And you know that's fine, Dick was fine. It wasn't Bruce's fault he didn't know how to be a proper dad, despite Alfred's parenting books and videos. And he did try, he was always there. But it just really hits a sore spot everytime he sees Bruce hold a punch before he knocks Tim out cold or when he's behind the wheel with Steph telling her what not to do. Or even when he's at school with Damian and Duke making Marjory and her cupcakes look ridiculous compared to him and his coconut crumble cakes.
It also irritates Dick beyond senseless whenever the topic of sparring with Bruce is mentioned. ("We can all beat the old man Goldie, he's ancient." Jason shrugs off and Dick wanted to scream.) The only one who even tries to sympathize with him was Cass. More than likely because she'd seen him fight as Batman The Dark Knight before seeing him fight as Bruce The Father of Six-Almost-Eight.
And it just really stings because he can't relate to being raised by Bruce the way the others can't. Bruce changed for them, not him. And maybe that kind of hurts. But maybe he's overreacting.
What he doesn't realize is he's the reason why Bruce changed. Bruce saw the hurt and anger in Dick's eyes when he fired him from Robin (Think Shifu denying Tai Lung the Dragon Warrior scroll). He knew the second he saw the betrayal in Dick's eyes after seeing Jason as Robin, that he'd have to change. (The same way Shifu should've changed for Tigress but I digress, not that fandom).
Bruce pulls his punches because he hated seeing Dick limp away from their sparring matches—despite the fire and promise of a rematch in his eyes. He teaches them how to drive regular cars before the Batmobile because the one time Dick crashed (while trying to avoid some of Poison Ivy's vines) his heart rate skyrocketed so high Clark had called him up demanding to know if he was okay. He shows up for Duke and Damian and Cass and Tim because Dick's smile whenever he saw Bruce in the parent's lounge never failed to make him melt.
Bruce stands firm on the fact that while he may have made a hero out of Dick, Dick Grayson made a father out of Bruce Wayne.
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Wrong Impressions (Repeat Mistakes)
Read full fic on Ao3 | T | wc 4,055 | 5 times trope
*1*
Steve didn’t mean to get off on the wrong foot with Eddie’s uncle.
It just … kept happening.
The first time was shortly after they closed the gates to the Upside Down.
Eddie was hurt bad. Steve had to revive him, give him CPR, begging him to stay awake, to stay talking. It wasn’t until they were able to get him to a hospital and transferred into a gurney did Steve finally feel himself relax.
Which finally allowed the pain to set in.
Steve fainted in the hospital lobby.
His bites weren’t properly cleaned and ended up infected. He was in and out of consciousness. He remembered Robin by his bedside. He remembered Eddie in the room, also fighting to stay conscious. Steve could remember Eddie mumbling, singing under his breath, and talking about hobbits.
For the next few days, both of them were in a state of delirium.
Steve could’ve swore he heard Jim Hopper. Hushed voices talking about Russian soldiers. The sound of an acoustic guitar being plucked. Whispers like secrets were being told, gossiping about him as he slowly woke up.
“His parents haven’t stopped by,” one voice whispered.
“You don’t know that,” another voice huffed, a little deeper than the first.
“It’s been days,” the first voice said. The sound of a chair being pushed back, dragging on the linoleum. “You’d think that Robin girl would’ve called them.”
“Sweetheart,” the second voice hushed. “What are you doing?”
Sweetheart.
Steve felt a gentle touch on the back of his hand, softly rubbing circles into his skin.
Steve slowly lifted his eyelids, heavy as could be. His eyelashes fluttered as he tried to bring his consciousness forward.
“How are you feeling, Stevie?”
Stevie.
Steve’s vision started to clear. Pulled up in the chair where Robin normally sits, was Mr. Clarke, his former middle school science teacher.
God.
Steve had the hots for him in middle school.
By the way the second voice barked out a laugh, Steve wondered if he said that out loud. “Guess he’s still feelin’ that morphine.”
“‘m really feeling it,” Steve mumbled, closing his eyes. He hasn’t felt this disconnected from his body since Starcourt. “Imagining my gay awakening by my bedside. Crazy.”
Steve felt his hand gently squeezed before the touch pulled away. “Go back to sleep, Stevie.”
*2*
Steve was discharged from the hospital after a few days, once the infection started to clear up. A few weeks later, Eddie was able to go home.
Steve found himself hanging out with Eddie more and more. Sometimes, it was him, Robin, and Eddie. Other times, it was just him and Eddie. Some evenings they would talk on the phone for hours, others they stayed the night, sharing a bed too small for the both of them so Eddie could sleep easier in the trailer.
And the more he spent time with Eddie, the further he was falling in love.
Eddie listened to Steve. He listened to his interests, listen to him talk about his day at Family Video or whatever the kids were up to that day. In return, Eddie told Steve about his interests, about metal music and Dungeons and Dragons, and Lord of the Rings. Eddie told Steve about Ozzy Osbourne and yes, he still thinks Steve is metal, too. Eddie never talked down to Steve, explaining things that Steve didn’t know or maybe he should know.
Eddie was touchy and Steve craved his touch. His hand on Steve’s forearm or his bicep when he wanted his attention. The way he ran his fingers through Steve’s hair (even against Steve’s pseudo-protest). The way he’ll gently kick Steve’s shoe under the table or the way he would sit down next to Steve, thigh to thigh, knee to knee.
Eddie was intoxicating.
And maybe he was reading it wrong, but he thought Eddie felt the same way. Robin thought he wasn’t wrong.
Steve wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.
He was a romantic at heart. And he was gonna woo the socks off of Eddie.
So here he stood, outside of Eddie’s trailer a half dozen roses in hand. ‘Dinner and a movie?’ he’d ask. No. ‘Go out with me?’ or should he be brunt about it, ‘you, me, dinner at the diner and make out in the back of the theater.’ He was still deciding when he raised his fist to knock on the door.
There was some shuffling behind the door as it opened —
To Mr. Clarke?
“Steve?” Mr. Clarke asked. “What are you doing here?”
Steve’s jaw dropped open. This was Eddie’s trailer. Eddie’s home. So why is Mr. Clarke here?
“Are you feeling better?” Mr. Clarke asked when Steve didn’t answer. He took a step towards Steve, slowly looking him up and down kindly. “You looked pretty rough in the hospital a few weeks ago. You look better.”
Oh fuck.
The memories flooded in, recalling Mr. Clarke by his bedside in the hospital and Steve admitting his childhood gay crushon him.
Shit!
Steve shoved the roses in Mr. Clarke’s hands and took off back to his car, skipping the porch step as he jumped in the Beemer. He should’ve realized Eddie’s van wasn’t parked out front. Shit. He pulled out of the trailer park, speeding off.
What the fuck just happened?
“My uncle said you stopped by last night,” Eddie said between the joint on his lips. They were laying in the grassy field of Weathertop, smoking and listening to Eddie’s mixtape on low. “Said you were weird.”
“Your uncle?” Steve asked, pushing himself up onto his elbows to look at Eddie.
“Yeah,” Eddie said, exhaling. He passed the joint to Steve. “I live with him, you know.”
“You live with your uncle,” Steve said, holding the joint exactly how Eddie past it.
“Yeah,” Eddie said. “You didn’t know that?”
“No,” Steve said. “I didn’t.”
“He said you were acting weird,” Eddie laughed, leaning forward to smoke the joint from Steve’s fingers. His lips gently brushed Steve’s finger tips. Steve was going insane. “And he practically raised me, so it says something if he thinks someone is acting weird.”
Steve could brush it off. Pretend nothing happened.
Or he could do exactly what he was planning that night.
“Well,” Steve started, bringing the joint to his lips to take an hit of courage. He let out the smoke in a steady stream. “I went over to see you. I wanted to bring you flowers —“
“Aw,” Eddie said with a smirk. “You got a crush on me?” Then, as his own words hit him, his expression softened. “You got a crush on me?”
“Yes,” Steve breathed. “Yeah, I do.”
Steve was unsure who leaned first, or who exactly made the first move, but their lips met in the middle in a heated kiss.
When they broke for a quick breath, Eddie let out a soft laugh. “What happen to the flowers?”
“I gave them to your uncle,” Steve admitted, resting his head against Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s whole body shook as he laughed. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist as he pulled him to the ground.
“I wondered — I thought that — gave him — oh fuck —“ Eddie laughed, grabbing his side, tears forming in his eyes. Steve held Eddie as his laughter died down, wincing at the pain in his side. “Sorry. I wondered where they came from. They’re beautiful.”
“I was trying to be romantic,” Steve groaned. He leaned back in the grass, reaching back to pick a dandelion. He brought it back down, handing it to Eddie. “Will you —“
“Yes,” Eddie deadpanned. “I want a whole traditional wedding —“
“Shut up,” Steve said, hoping to fight back the blush to his cheeks as a brief thought of marrying Eddie passed through his mind. “Go out with me? Dinner and a movie.”
“Yes,” Eddie grinned, leaning forward to steal a chaste kiss. “Wait, which movie?”
“Alien,” Steve said.
“Sweetheart, you know me well,” Eddie laughed. “For the record, I have band practice on Thursdays.”
*3*
The last few weeks have been amazing.
Steve and Eddie clicked as friends, even better as boyfriends. In reality, not much has changed except their touches have lasted longer, pet names have increased, and sometimes, they spent their evening making out in Eddie’s van.
Okay, maybe a lot of times.
They started exploring each other bodies. They started slow. This was Steve’s first time with a guy and this was Eddie’s first time … well, ever. At first, it was heavy petting. Then it moved to dry humping. Then skin to skin, hand to dick, mouth to dick.
Eddie mentioned interest in moving forward. Having more. And Steve could’ve jumped his bones right then and there.
But they needed to be safe. Plus, easy clean up.
So here Steve stood, in the family planning aisle of the pharmacy. He knew what kind he normally grabbed — but he was hesitant. Did he need to get some for Eddie as well? Would Eddie like this brand? Should he asked Eddie what he wanted? Should he get the ribbed ones?
Jesus Christ.
This is too much pressure.
He just wanted Eddie’s first time to be good. Steve grabbed a box of his usual brand, and the brand next to it before quickly turning on his heels and —
Ran chest first into Mr. Clarke, dropping the condoms on the ground.
“Whoops!” Mr. Clarke said, bending down to pick up Steve’s items to hand back. “Sorry son!”
“Mr. Clarke, hi!” Steve said, running a nervous hand through his hair and taking the boxes back. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Came to pick up Eddie’s medication,” Mr. Clarke said, nodding towards the pharmacy in the back. “Said he had a big date tonight, so he wasn’t sure if he’d make it here before they closed.”
Mr. Clarke winked at him knowingly. Eddie said he was going to tell his uncle about them. Steve knew that. Eddie said he was safe. Just like Robin was. But he could feel the condoms burning his palms. Eddie said his uncle was practically like his father. What would he think if he knew Steve planned on deflowering his son tonight?
And just like clockwork, Mr. Clarke’s eyes darted to the condoms in Steve’s hands. “Big night planned?”
“These are for a friend,” Steve said, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them.
Mr. Clarke snorted. “Of course they are.”
“Not like that,” Steve said, a little too fast. Mr. Clarke’s eyebrows raised. “I mean — Eddie and I are — no, I don’t mean — well — we are safe — I mean we will be safe — Oh my god!”
Mr. Clarke let out a soft laugh, squeezing Steve’s shoulder as he walked past him. “Have fun tonight, Steve. Just — not too much fun.”
“Oh my god,” Steve groaned, grabbing an ice pack off the shelf next to it for his bruised ego and cold medicine from the aisle’s end cap to fluff his purchase, before going to the front checkout.
He’s never gonna live this down if Eddie finds out.
Read the rest on Ao3
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