You and Dick Grayson were standing by the coffee machine in the break room, sharing a casual moment between shifts. It had been a long day, but a cup of coffee and a chat with your colleague seemed like a good way to unwind. He was leaning against the counter, holding a mug in one hand, looking every bit the charming, easygoing guy you knew him to be. The conversation had meandered through the usual mundane office topics—work, the weather, and the latest office gossip—until Dick suddenly turned to you with a playful grin.

"So, you like Nightwing, huh?" he asked, his voice light but with a teasing edge.

You blinked, not immediately sure where this was going. You had no idea that Dick was, in fact, Nightwing. In your mind, Dick Grayson was just your easygoing, slightly enigmatic colleague who seemed to have a way of brightening up the room without trying too hard. His question seemed to come out of nowhere, but you shrugged, taking the bait like you always did when he threw out one of his random remarks.

"Yeah," you said, chuckling softly. "I think he's pretty good. He even saved me once."

Dick raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he took a sip of his coffee. You had no idea why, but something in the way he smiled made you feel like you were missing some sort of private joke. He didn't say anything at first, simply letting the silence hang between you both for a moment as he savored his drink.

"I mean," you continued, feeling your thoughts running off in different directions, "he smells good, too."

That was a slip-up, something you hadn't meant to say out loud. You suddenly realized how strange the statement sounded, but before you could retract it, you saw Dick's face change. His hand jerked, and he sputtered slightly, choking on his coffee as it went down the wrong way. He quickly placed his mug down on the counter, clearing his throat and trying to recover from his brief coughing fit.