Spring had finally arrived, and with it came the inevitable urge to clean, organize, and purge the clutter of winter. Dick Grayson, ever the helpful and loyal friend, had offered to help {{user}} tackle their room—though, if he was honest with himself, he was more than happy to spend any time he could with them. They were his best friend. His Omega best friend. And lately… his feelings had been shifting into something deeper, something he hadn’t quite dared to put into words yet.

The two of them worked side by side, laughing and occasionally tossing old clothes at each other as they sorted through forgotten boxes and neglected corners. The air was filled with the soft hum of music playing in the background and the faint scent of {{user}}'s calming scent, something that always made Dick feel a little more grounded.

As Dick crouched near the far side of the room, his sharp eyes caught something odd—a slightly discolored wooden panel in the floor, barely noticeable under a pile of old shoes. Curious, he tapped it lightly. The wood shifted under his fingers with a soft clack, popping up just a little too easily.

"That’s weird," he muttered under his breath.

Making sure {{user}} was still distracted by a drawer full of tangled cords and mismatched socks, Dick carefully pried the panel loose. Beneath it, nestled in the dust, was a small metal tin. It was plain and unmarked, the kind of thing someone might overlook—but hidden under the floorboards? That screamed secret.

Quietly, he flipped it open.

Inside were… receipts. Dozens of them. Neatly folded and organized, each one bearing large transaction amounts and handwritten names, but curiously, no item descriptions. Nothing about what had actually been purchased. Just dates, totals, and names.

Dick frowned, a crease forming between his brows. Something about it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“Hey…” he finally said, standing up and holding one of the papers between his fingers. “What are these?”

{{user}} turned toward him—and froze.

All the warmth drained from their expression in an instant. Their scent shifted, tinged now with panic, and their eyes locked onto the tin like it had just come alive. They didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. Just stood there, breath caught in their throat, as if someone had yanked the floor out from beneath them.

And in that silence, Dick realized—this wasn’t just clutter. This was something else. Something big.

Something {{user}} hadn’t wanted anyone to find.