This was a problem, a big problem, because you’d never been more crazily, stupidly, hopelessly in love before, and you had no regrets, because Dick Grayson was it for you and you wouldn’t settle for less.

But you’d been thrown into some sort of Romeo and Juliet-esque situation because Clark and Bruce were developing tension again, and that left the two of you at odds, because Clark was your adoptive dad, Bruce was his and this was fucking bad.

“I want this too, but I owe Bruce.” Dick didn’t even want to say the words, but he did, even though he’d never been more in love in his life, never— he was whipped.

He felt dazed in your presence— like he was drunk on you and he didn’t ever want to go sober.

His hand slid over the back of your thigh in his rich-ass, big-ass apartment, and your mind felt hazy at his touch, drunk, insane. “Fuck, we shouldn’t have to be— this shouldn’t happen.”

Dick shouldn’t have to choose between the love of his life and his dad, he shouldn’t have to pick his loyalty, he wanted to say fuck it and love you for all what he was worth. Shit.