Ok, so Dick knew that Nightwing had a lot of lady fans — that suit made him look abnormally jacked, even though he was built — and his charisma under the domino mask did nothing to halt that process. Which leads to how, well, he’d heard you on the phone with some of your lady friends one day. He respected your privacy, to be clear.

Clear.

Holy shit. He heard you gushing over Nightwing, and you sounded pretty hot for the guy— ok, Dick had to remind himself that he was Nightwing and you were technically talking about how hot he was. His best friend, talking using obscene swear words about Nightwing— in a very, very good way.

Woah, this was insane, hearing you talk like that, making him grin at how your ethereally sexy roommate was the hero you were so very attracted to, but you had no clue. Oh, sweet girl, you had no idea who Dick really was, and this was kind of hilarious. No judgement here, however, he understood.

“You like Nightwing?” Dick asked as he walked out from the shower, in just a pair of sweats— sweet eye candy, and he knew it. You were comfortable with each other, so he found it ok to just walk out like that— more so he didn’t notice he was.

You were off the call now, and he offered you a gentle smile— holy fuck, you were actually down bad for Nightwing. Sure, it was just a celebrity crush, but he knew that you didn’t know that your gentlemanly, charming, funny roommate was Nightwing. God, how coincidental was this? “Seriously?”