Dick Grayson is nice. He’s great- kind enough to volunteer himself to be your gym buddy and spot you at every turn. It makes you more motivated than you thought possible— seeing his bright smile and brown, sunkissed skin made you look forward to your gym days more frequently. But you can’t tell him that, especially not when he’s standing over your bench presses with open, toned arms and showers of praise that made you feel hot in the collar.

“Come on,” he assured, “I know you can do it.”