happy pride month to those in the closet. to those who went back into the closet. to those who have unsupportive families, friends and relationships. those who were bullied and harassed because of their identity. those who were killed because of who they truly were and loved.
synopsis seeing your ex at the bar leads to an uncomfortable, long awaited, conversation.
the club is so loud that you can practically feel the vibrations of the bass in your chest. strobe lights flashing red and violet all over the room.
you knew you shouldn’t have come. because you knew the moment you walked in,
he was here.
you don’t date someone like dick grayson and forget how to find him in a room. he stands out. attention bends toward him without him even trying.
he was by the bar - like always. probably trying to find something cute to keep him busy.
he was leaning back like the whole place belonged to him, sleeves pushed up, his stupid, charming grin on his face while two - no, three - girls crowded around him. fawning for his attention.
one of them was laughing way too loud at something he had said, like he was the funniest person in a room full of comedians.
he smiled politely, but he wasn’t really looking at them.
he was searching the room.
for you.
you pretended you didn’t notice. but you could feel his eyes drilling into you like you had personally offended him.
your friends were midstory, waving drinks around, talking over each other, but you only half heard any of it. his gaze feeling like unwanted heat on the back of your neck.
“he’s staring.” your friend said.
you took a slow slip of you drink. “he stares at everyone.”
“not like that.”
you glanced over before you could stop yourself
mistake.
his eyes met yours instantly. he didn’t look away. and neither did you.
god, he looked the same. maybe worse. more confident. more annoyingly attractive. the kind of attractive that makes strangers latch onto him without realizing they’re doing it.
one of the girls beside him slid a hand up his arm. he didn’t react. he was still looking at you.
you broke the eye contact first, rolling your eyes and turning back to your friends like you couldn’t care less.
inside, your heart thumped just a little bit faster.
across the room, dick inhaled slowly. “are you even listening?” the girl said.
“mhm.” he nodded.
“what did i just say?”
he blinked once, realizing he had no idea. “…something funny.”
he wasn’t trying to ignore them. he just couldn’t stop tracking you.
every little movement. the way you tossed your hair over your shoulder when you laughed. the way you leant close to your friends whenever you told a story. the way you checked the room without meaning to, making sure he’s still there.
you looked again. he was still staring.
god, he’s annoying.
you stood abruptly.
your friends paused. “where are you going?”
“another drink.”
you walked towards the bar, slowly. dick straightened without realising it.
you stopped at the bar one space away from him, signalling the bartender, deliberately facing forward; ingnoring him.
dick let out a small breath through his nose.
“didn’t think you liked places this loud,” he said finally.
your head tilted slightly, but you didn’t look at him.
“didn’t think you liked blondes.” the blonde in question stiffened beside him.
dick stopped himself from smiling. “i don’t.”
the girl frowned, “okay—”
you finally turned your head to look at him. you immediately regretted it. how could he always look so perfect, like he was straight out of a magazine.
“you look busy,” you said.
“i’m not.”
“yeah, well your fans say otherwise.” you scoffed, eyes flicking briefly to the girl still touching his arm.
you take the drink from the bartender, slowly sipping it without breaking eye contact. across the bar, dick shifted slightly, leaning one elbow against the counter. not cocky, just closer.
“you came here on purpose,” he said quietly, causing you to laugh.
who did he think he was?
“the world doesn’t revolve around you richard.”
“most of your bad decisions do.” he said smoothly.
“wow. i almost can’t breathe, you’re taking up the room with your ego.”
dick shook his head. “i know you.”
“used to.” you corrected him.
the blonde beside him tries again, “so are you—”
he doesn’t even glance at her. “give me a minute.”
she blinks, offended, but still steps away. leaving you and your ex together. all of a sudden the music in the club sounded a lot louder.
you hid your nervousness and leaned casually against the counter. “you’re being rude to your admirers.”
“they’re not why i’m here.”
“and why are you here?” you snapped.
he doesn’t look away when he answers. “you.”
you knew it was coming, but your stomach still flipped. you hid it behind a scoff. “still dramatic.”
“still pretending you don’t care.” he murmured.
“i don’t, grayson.”
“yes you do. i noticed the way you were looking at me tonight. i notice everything you do.” he said. “unfortunately.” he added.
your pulse spiked. god, he’s infuriating.
“well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it,” you said. “considering you left.”
his jaw tightens. “what was i supposed to do? you drove me away—”
“and you were supposed to fight!” you burst out.
he studied your face for an uncomfortable moment. something flashes across his face. not anger but something softer. worse.
“you look good,” he said suddenly. you weren’t expecting that.
“i know,” you replied coolly, causing him to huff a soft laugh, shaking his head.
you were still the same, impossible girl he fell in love with. the music surges louder behind you both. people brush past, but the space between you two feels seperate from the rest of the club.
“you gonna keep pretending you’re still in love with me?” you asked. you knew him, he only liked what he couldn’t have. he liked games.
“i’m not pretending.”
your eyes flickered.
“and why not?”
his voice dropped slightly. he leaned closer to you, right above your ear. “because you’re in love with me too.”
he pulls back, watching you. silence stretches between you, yet neither of you look away.
across the room, your friends were staring. behind dick, the girls he abandoned were whispering. but neither of you seemed to notice. you both just stood there at the bar, two stubborn people who know each other too well.
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