circus boy.

crawls off to bed fdhjkfd work in the morning niiight



"You don’t pick up after yourself well either. It’s a wonder you make it out the front door every morning."

Right. Cleaning… not my forte either. In my defense, I grew up with a guy who cleaned my room for me whenever I was out.

    Just… for fun, probably.



It’s six now. 

[As if that settled it.] 

Why did you apologize?

    I, uh… you don’t mind sitting together, right?



Learned from the best. 

Eh, Dickie?

    You did not learn that from me.



Don’t I know it~.

   So that’s one coffee, comin’ right up.
   Need anything else?



Does that mean you’ll refill my coffee for me?

    I can do that. I’m really good at refilling coffee.
    I’m really good at a lot of things.



Here’s a hint: starts with l—ends with aid

    Jason Todd, everyone.

Live And Let Die || Double Agent AU (Closed)


Important things that weren’t his belongings? That about left just Dick himself and whatever important documents and secrets that were left for headquarters. Still, Roy had to hope that when he opened the door, he’d find something else in there too. “I’ll guard with my life.” He curled his fingers around the key, around the man’s fingers for just a second more, gave him a wink and then departed.

Once he was sure that Dick was inside, Roy tugged his blazer over his shoulders and got down to business. There was a liquor store about a block down and he took his time looking and pondering. The red head wasn’t looking for a good wine, he was looking for one that Dick was more likely not to know, because even if he had to play a little dirty, he was still playing fair. He had a sneaking suspicion that Dick was more familiar with good wine, so he stayed away from the reserves and anything more than four years old.

The one he ended up settling for was a local one that was only two years old. And—okay well he’ll buy a good California one for later, just as a small apology. Besides, the first one didn’t even cost that much anyways.

He didn’t waste time getting back to the hotel after that, twiddling the key card between his fingers with a cocky grin as if it was his ticket to paradise. Dick had been set up with the penthouse—of course he did. It was not only an excellent vantage point if he ever needed it, but it was also thanks to their connections and their money.

He let the key card linger in the slot for a second before slowly opening the door, letting the noises from both alert the man inside of his presence. “Alright, Dickie, no peeking.”

Dick figures he’s got fifteen or twenty minutes to himself, depending on how picky Roy was with his wine selection. That’s enough time to hurry up to his room and consolidate his belongings, pitching changed clothes back into his suitcase, gathering up files he’d been reviewing before he left, and smoothing out the king size bed that sat against the nearest wall of the lavish room. The penthouse was everything that you’d expect of such a ritzy hotel: a large balcony, white carpets, a Jacuzzi tub, sheer curtains tugged around one side of the bed frame, original paintings in the frames, and a view to kill. The agency didn’t skimp out on travel expenses, that was for sure And they had no excuse to, considering they were sending their workers into potentially fatal situations with nearly every assignment.

Shrugging out of his jacket and loosening his tie, Dick retrieves the blindfold and tosses it on the bed for when his partner returns, anticipation making his stomach flutter. Call him immature for admitting to butterflies, but Roy was more than just good looking. Smart, strong, good at his job, even compassionate when the situation called for it. That was above and beyond many of the other senior agents, who had become hardened and cruel after years of intensive service.

Plus the whole good looking thing. There was just something about an attractive redhead that Dick couldn’t say no to.

The creak of the door opening catches the former acrobat facing the bed, stuffing a few things in the nightstand before he glances over his shoulder. Roy’s warning has him turning around again, facing away from the entrance.

"Not looking," he says, a grin audible in his voice. He points toward a small table where he’d set out two wine glasses and a corkscrew, "You can set them down there, I won’t cheat. Then, if you want, you can come do the honors."

Picking up the blindfold from the mattress, Dick holds it off to his side and gives it a tantalizing shake so Roy could see.

the true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he lσνєs what is behind him.


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