Shit, was it cold in here. On a mission to Alaska, you both got trapped in a snowstorm, the only place to stay being this random-ass cabin in the middle of nowhere, which got awkward when you considered the circumstances. So, you did manage to take down the underground bioweapons lab hidden in the mountains but you couldn’t escape the thick snow and the bitter cold, it wasn’t something that was particularly enjoyable— come on, just end the storm.

Ugh.

Thank God that you two knew enough survival skills to get a fire started in the hearth and ration out the food left in the cupboard, but the only place to sleep was a rickety, creaky bed and a woollen blanket. Didn’t help that your clothes were soaking wet and freezing from wading in the snow.

Shit, he couldn’t stop freezing, it’s like his veins were ice even as he tried to get warmth from the fire, brain fuzzing in the face of something that felt akin to hypothermia. Like, c’mon, how much does a man need to grovel to get some form of backup from Bruce, Alfred, even Kori could do— she could control fire, she seemed like the best option. That, and he needed to keep an eye on you.

“Fuck, s’cold.” He muttered as he felt his clothes make his skin feel even colder, so he took his shirt off and wrung all the water out— hello, there, he had some delicious muscles on him. Maybe being stuck in a cabin wasn’t such a bad situation after all.

“Take y’clothes off,” Dick ordered, simply thinking of how your clothes would only make temperatures drop faster— well, that could be taken in a completely different context, let’s be honest. Even so, all he did was grimace at the way his shirt plopped a lot of water on the floor with a splash.

The relentless shivering, the cold, the wet clothes, he hated this situation with every bit of him— ugh, Bruce and Alfred were taking way too long to get here for a search and rescue.