InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "What was your name again?"

"Heeeey, Bianca? Yeah. Tell Khloe I'lll RSVP just as soon as she posts an Insta-pology to Queen B. Honestly, this beef has gone on long enough. It's embarrassing. And did you confirm the flowers for Jude and RDJ? Perf. You're a doll." Alex swung around his desk right as his next scheduled appointment came in. "One more thing for me: make sure all the riders for SO18 are in place for the gala next week. We don't need a repeat of last year. I've heard the drummer is a real nightmare if he doesn't get his box of pink-only Nerds."

He tapped his phone after a second and pulled his wireless earbuds out, setting them in their appointed case and standing so he could officially greet his newest client. Not a bad looking guy, but not really his type. He gave him a neutral smile and extended a hand. "Hey, I'm Alex, obviously. Why don't you have a seat and tell me a little about you?"

Dick could only blink, startled, as he watched the blond at work even though it seemed like he was wrapping up. Blue eyes raked over the form and lined it up with what he remembered from school; it felt like nothing had changed except to add a few years on in a graceful sort of way. Unfair. Bet he had had an eight-pack, too.

At the offered hand, he hesitated but it was out of surprise--and a pang of embarrassment. Maybe disappointment. His lips thinned out as he gave a tight smile as he shook Alex's hand. "You... don't actually recognize me," he stated. It wasn't a question. But Dick sat and his folded hands immediately got pinned between his knees in an attempt to make sure he didn't flail them around or bounce either knee anxiously. It caused him to slouch, of course, but that was the normal habit. "Dick Grayson. We went to school together. I was pushed this way for your help and thought..." He shook his head. "Doesn't matter what I thought. Dating advice. Help. Fashion, maybe, I don't know. Everything I'm doing is wrong."

It wasn't often Alex found himself wrong footed. Sure, his services involved a lengthy application process, but that was for the benefit of getting a feel for his client emotionally and psychologically. He had a rule about not going into his initial meetings with any preconceived notions about things like looks—or even names. His gaze flicked to his tablet, taking in the embarrassingly familiar first-and-last now that he had a nickname for context. The past caught up to him in a flash, and he looked his client over with new eyes.

"Ricky-G? You were… in gymnastics, right? A couple of years ahead of me." Alex grinned broadly and came around his smooth white desk so he could sit directly on it in front of him. Leaning a hand on its surface, he tilted his head with a bemused expression. "When did you start going by Dick? It's pretty bold, all things considered. Regardless"—his fingers fluttered dismissively, but not unkindly—"I can promise you you've come to the right place. I'm sure you have questions. People always do. Do you mind if I start one with one of my own? Are you here for dating or for love?"

He couldn't help rolling his eyes at the nickname that was only used at school. "Richard was always too big'a name in school and no kid was going to let me go by Dick and get away unscathed. It's a family nickname, though. Easier to use with some distance from school," he explained but grinned. "And, yeah. Gymnastics. Almost went professional, even." There was a story there if the tightness around his eyes was anything to go by but the smile didn't falter.

The braces had helped. Thank the Science Gods for Invisalign. His teeth were straight and he'd worked damned hard on keeping them white. The rest of him might have looked awkward but his eyes and then his smile had been all he'd had going for him in high school and the years later. At least until his coach had helped to get him better toned in all the right places.

"Um-" and now he was embarrassed, the tips of his ears going red. "Since the dating hasn't exactly been going great, jumping a step feels kind of egotistical. I didn't date much in high school and then I was too busy with training. Now... I have no idea what I'm doing," Dick admitted and squirmed in his seat as he watched Alex, forcing himself to not look away out of embarrassment.

A part of Alex had the sudden urge to ruffle Dick's hair, but he tamped it down. He tilted his head curiously instead. Sometimes when a person was answering his questions, Alex got a sense there were whole volumes of text being left out. He had it with Dick now. The space on his desk behind him was clear enough for him to slide back and cross his legs, arms out to either side of him for balance. "I think I remember school chatter about the Olympics, but then it was like you disappeared. Our very own hometown mystery."

One Dick didn't seem all that interested in delving into right then, which Alex respected. He changed tacks. "All right, shelving the relationship level for now, tell me a little bit about your interests. Not just hobbies—gymnastics and keeping extra fit, obviously—but what you're looking for in someone you might want to date." Leaning in slightly, Alex smiled, slow and disarming. "What turns you on, Dick Grayson?"

The blunt question had Dick startling backward and he was glad to already be in a chair; he might have stumbled otherwise. "Oh, uh-" he started and tried desperately to come up with something that was any sort of appropriate even though Alex was potentially looking for the non-PG versions.

"Confidence. Competence," Dick finally said. "When someone knows what they're doing, that's... that's pretty big. Not, like, cocky because there's a difference between confidence and ego." He glanced away, feeling stupid. "Physical doesn't... really mean anything so much as personality, you know?" He went even more red in the face. "Gender doesn't matter either." He risked a glance up at Alex, who looked so self-assured there on his own desk. How was he about to feel about that statement?

Alex beamed, brightening considerably as he shifted his weight on to one hand. Reaching behind himself, he picked up his phone and brought it around to start making notes one handed and without looking. An outside observer might have accused him of showing off, of using insider information, but that was just how Alex operated. "For the record, there are no wrong answers, but it makes things so much easier when your dating pool's expanded. Do you mind telling me about the last time you dated? Did you keep things more casual, or would you consider yourself more of a serial monogamist? Again, no wrong answers. I'm just trying to establish a pattern."

His smile softened, becoming sympathetic, and he waved his phone. "Or we can play soft ball instead. Tell me about the most favorite date you've ever had."

The questions kept coming and it wasn't that Alex was being any sort of annoying or condescending about them. It was that Dick started to cringe, embarrassed. But he seemed to pick up on it because he offered up a soft ball.

"Just..." he started and the smallest smile appeared as his gaze dropped and he recalled something. "Just being able to hang out, honestly. Everything was always so stressful with practice and diets. Being able to just chill? I once ended up going to a bowling alley and we didn't even bowl more than one game. Just sat there and talked," he said quietly and looked up at Alex again. "And... that was probably also my last date, actually. I'm definitely into monogamy but never really got past casual. Since... you know. Like zero experience."

His heart was in his throat because his anxiety was so high. He sounded pathetic, Dick knew.

A couple more observations went in the phone before Alex set it aside again. The look on Dick's face, the absolute dejection, it sent a pang through his chest. He slid off his desk and offered his hand to the other so they'd both be standing. "I don't normally suggest this right off the bat, but why don't we do this: ask me on a date. Full immersion. Or I can ask you, if that's easier. I don't want to break you, but your comfort zone could use some wiggle room."

Dick stared at Alex and tried to not watch the motion he made as he slid so well off the desk. What? He was a gymnast. You noticed those things! And then he groaned and dropped his face into his hands. "Oh my God," he said, voice muffled, "you're pity-whatevering me." Alex wasn't asking him out. Even if he did, it wasn't real. It was like talking to yourself in the mirror, psyching yourself up. Practicing your lines.

He peered up and then pushed to his own feet. Deep breath, Grayson. "Would you...?" he started and then faltered. What kind of date? Was he supposed to ask about a certain thing? God, high school was simply 'will you go out with me?' and that was it. Or so he'd heard and assumed. He wet his lips and tried again, chin dropping a little because it was easier without eye contact.

"Would you get dinner with me? I know a pretty good Italian place," Dick finally said, peering up through his eyelashes without the guts to fully look Alex in the eye.

Wow…

Rather than disarming, Dick somehow shot way past it to downright abysmal. He looked less like he was asking someone out, and more like he was making a dentist appointment. Alex had his work cut out of him.

Still, he could do this.

He would do this, because Dick had been a genuinely nice, if quiet guy back at school, and now life had ground him down in ways Alex found himself kind of desperate to uncover. More than that, he believed everyone should be happy in ways that were true to them. If that took the form of a successful and flourishing love life for Mr. Dick Grayson, then Alex would do his part. He took exactly half a step forward and lightly touched his client's wrist. "I love Italian. Pick you up tomorrow? Around seven?"

Dick blew out a breath and gave a nervous chuckle. "Okay. Cool, yeah. That wasn't so bad," he said, looking up more. It was immediately clear that he thought they were just running lines.

"High school was so much easier, wasn't it? Or so I assume," he grinned.

"I think it depends on the social strata you found yourself in. Me, I had the benefit of being the mysterious new kid from California." Alex shrugged, but it was more of an observation rather than an outright dismissal. His smile ticked up, however, deepening again. "So, do you really know a good Italian place? I'll cry if there's no garlic bread."

Dick blinked. Blinked again. "Wait- you were serious?" he asked, immediately sobering and his eyes just a little wide.

Those doe eyes nearly buckled Alex's professional resolve, but he was made of sterner stuff. "Immersion therapy. That's what we're trying. So tomorrow, seven–ish. I want you to pick out an outfit that makes you feel good. Makes you comfortable. If that looks like sweats and one of your athletics department shirts from the old alma mater, then we'll roll with it. And if it's a unitard, well… we'll get something to go and visit a park or something. Challenge yourself to pick an outfit and commit to it. If you're not comfortable in your own skin, people are going to pick up on it."

The surprise on his face didn't disappear; it was like Dick had no idea how to hide his emotions. "Um- I mean? Sure?" he stammered out. "I'll... yeah. Okay."

He was too confused to realize that their meeting probably wasn't over but Dick turned away anyway, only to stop and shake his head, trying to dig out his phone from his back pocket. "You probably need my address," he muttered, forgetting that it would have been in his file when he'd submitted his request to meet in the first place.

Alex bit his lip, but only to keep most of the amusement off his face. "If it's the same as your billing info, I think I'm okay. But good job at remembering that crucial bit. I don't really want to stalk you to get this going. It never ends well."

The laugh that escaped Dick was just a little too loud to be casual and he flushed immediately after. "I'm just… I'm gonna go," he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. "See you tomorrow?" Why did he have to make it sound like a question? Dick shook his head as he turned to walk to the door, shoving his phone into a back pocket.

"See you tomorrow," Alex murmured to the door, so largely to himself. A smile grew on his face, but he didn't examine it too closely. There were so many things he still had to do before falling into bed at one or two in the morning. So what if some of them involved putting way more thought into a date or three with a sweet guy with gorgeous eyes and a killer smile he didn't even know how to use anymore?

A client in need, after all…

---

At 7:04 PM, Alex pulled up to the address he had on file in his (surprisingly economical) hybrid and texted Dick that he was there. He would have been exactly on time, but circled the block a couple of times. On principle. Being exactly on time would have probably sent the wrong message.

So would what sat in the backseat, which was exactly why it was staying there. Alex still wasn't sure why he'd brought it with him from the office. Some momentary madness. He snapped a selfie and posted it to his socials.

#keep your heart open

Four minutes late. Alex was four minutes late. Did that mean he wasn't showing up? Maybe Dick was a lost cause. Maybe he'd completely read the whole thing wrong. Or maybe he'd gotten the day wrong? Wait--was he supposed to meet-

He looked down at his phone. Alex was there. Flustered, Dick left his apartment and locked the door behind him. An outfit that made him feel good ended up being bluejeans and a black henley. Nothing fancy, still maybe just above too-casual. But Alex had said to choose whatever. And Dick did know of a good Italian place that wasn't outright fancy.

The way he moved down the steps and to the waiting car was all ease and grace, none of it felt internally but there was something to be said about muscle memory. He paused and checked for any other waiting cars because it was going to be really embarrassing very quickly if the car he'd spotted was a ride-share. He went to the passenger side and bent to look in. A relieved grin split his face and Dick opened the door to slide in. "Hi," he breathed. "Hope this meets approval?" Dick gestured to what he'd picked out. Okay, so maybe the black and white sneakers were a little too casual.

For the second time in two days, Alex had to bite his lip to keep from laughing outright when Dick appeared owlishly in his car window. He hadn't missed his not-date's approach, and even gave himself just a moment to admire the easy movements before he checked himself. Dick was a client, but Alex wasn't blind.

He gave him a smirking nod of approval, only waiting until the other was buckled in before heading out. "You look great, really. Out there is some lucky guy, gal, and/or non-binary pal who'll get to experience the everything-of-you for themselves. Wanna give me directions, or just plug the place into my phone? Also, what are your music preferences? I have a playlist for every occasion. And I do mean every occasion."

Dick held out his hand for Alex's phone with a grin. It was easier to just let the phone's GPS do what it did best. "Music? I like pop, alternative, and anything with a good beat. EDM is a lot of fun. It all gets me moving," he said as he dutifully put the location into Alex's phone once it had been handed over.

"I can listen to anything. There was a lot of classical in my formative years. Rap probably isn't my thing, though," Dick went on and held the phone back out. "And I just realized I probably gave you more information about my musical preferences than I did about my person-preferences." He made a face, cringing a little. "Sorry."

That may have been the longest string of words Alex had heard from the man next to him since he walked into his office. It made him smile while he took a careful glance toward Dick, then back to the road where it belonged. A lovely English voice began giving him turn-by-turn direction toward a neighborhood he didn't really know. Interesting. He thought he knew every place worth knowing in the city they unexpectedly shared. "Don't apologize for your passions. Honestly, it's a little sexy. Are you sure you need my help?"

"Right," Dick replied sarcastically, "rambling at someone I find attractive about what music I like listening to is totally what gets me their number." He eyed Alex and chuckled. "Your number is the only one I've gotten in a couple years, for the record." Dick titled his head with his eyebrows raising in a really? expression. "Look at me. Of course I need your help."

Alex came dangerously close to preening right before he took stock of what had been said and employed his listening comprehension skills to their fullest. Ah, well. He mentally shrugged, but continued to smile. "You've clearly not rambled to the right person. And you've clearly never tapped into the endless well of your charm, Mr. Grayson. Once you do, you'll be unstoppable. So, tell me more about what you've been doing outside of your dating life all this time. The non-Cliffs Notes version, if you'd like."

Endless well of charm. Sure. There was a reason why he was taking lessons from Alex, who was clearly a pro at this whole charisma and self-assuredness thing. "I told you," he complained with a vague and helpless gesture of his hands toward the dashboard of the car. Like it had answers.

"Everything was about athletics," Dick sighed. "Training started early, ended late, and that was my life. Chuck in traveling to events or whatever, there wasn't any time." He turned his head to look out the window. "And now I've got time and nothing to do with it. I can find charity work, outreach things, whatever, and put my training to use but it's not the same. Hobbies?" Dick went on and then snorted indelicately. "Non-existent. Could try another sport. Rock-climbing was weird. Didn't feel like much of a challenge, if I'm being honest."

He was still talking at the window, watching the city pass by. "I thought, hey, maybe if I end up with someone to do things with, even if it's just sitting around to enjoy our company..." Dick trailed off and looked back at Alex. His smile was tight. "You sure I'm not a hopeless case?"

Some small ripple of familiar feeling went through Alex's chest at the tinge of bitchiness bleeding through Dick's wall of words. Good God, did he have a type. They'd pulled up to a light long enough for him to look over, but apparently did so a little too long since someone honked at him. His head whipped back around, and he could feel the heat crawling up the back of his neck. "I don't believe in 'hopeless cases'. Maybe that makes me an optimist, but I haven't let a single one of my consultations down. Not yet at least. I don't intend to make you my first."

His mouth pulled a little to the side. They were close. Just another couple of turns, then figuring out parking. He realized he'd never actually put any music on. Now it felt more awkward to do so. "I like that too. Enjoying my time with someone else. Y'know, when it's not benefit or event or PR something or other. It, uh— It's kind of been a while for me, too."

Dick glanced back when the car horn blared and then looked at Alex questioningly but didn't comment since the other man seemed suddenly transfixed on the road ahead. But then he blinked. Blinked again.

"Isn't that, like, against the rules or something?" Dick asked slowly and then grinned as he watched Alex. "That's like not going to practices and then thinking you can jump right in and medal," he teased though his tone was light. "Also, I don't believe you. Hey, there's a spot there." His attention had been drawn back ahead when he'd realized they were close to the restaurant and Dick pointed. Call it one of his magical powers: he was great at spotting parking spaces. "How long is a while, though?"

A muscle in Alex's jaw twitched. Not that he was annoyed by the teasing or anything, he just hadn't meant to turn the conversation around and make it about him. "Two years since I dated anyone longer than a couple of months." He pulled smoothly into the spot Dick indicated, then turned the car off and sat back with a quiet sigh. As much as he wanted to run his fingers roughly through his hair, he resisted it. "Two years before that I lost the only guy I'd ever dated. Car accident. After that I kind of threw myself into helping other people with their love lives. It was… easier than dealing with my own. Hypocritical, I know."

Alex rolled his eyes and forced a laugh. "And on that cheery note, let's go get some little known good Italian."

Dick swallowed thickly, immediately sorry for dredging up the bad memories. "I can see how that would be a problem," he said quietly, his tone just a little too careful. The forced laugh hurt something inside him but he forced a smile of his own; they were both liars.

He undid his seatbelt and turned, smoothly getting out of the car and closing the door behind him. Dick startled as it closed a little too hard and he winced at the blond from over the hood. "Sorry." He was still worried and didn't want to change the subject too abruptly thereby coming off as not caring. Dick waited until Alex had come around the car and offered a smile that wobbled just a little. He was awkward when it wasn't in front of cameras or interviews or judges so when he offered his hand, Dick immediately realized how stupid that was and that if he was going to offer anything resembling an escort that it should have been his whole arm.

"Uh-" he started and then made a face of resignation. "You know what? No. I'm going with this." And Dick wiggled his fingers, his awkward smile turning into something more genuine. Physical touch was probably his love language but it was more about comfort and companionship that touch offered.

That one simple gesture was more than enough to turn Alex's thoughts from frustratingly introspective to genuine gratitude and pride. He gave Dick a far more genuine smile and took his hand. He'd only meant to hold it, but his fingers took on a mind of their own. They slotted right in between Dick's like they belonged there. Sparks raced up and down his arms.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Still, Alex had powered through far more awkward situations in far more public settings. And he wasn't about to crush Dick's thoughtfulness just because Alex had a tendency to make things hard on himself in the heart department. This wasn't about him, it was all for Dick. If he could give his former classmate a chance for happiness, he'd stop at nothing.

Even if it meant sacrificing his own.

"See? I knew you could do this."

Heat crawled up his neck and then his face before Dick ducked his head sheepishly. "What, hold your hand without awkwardly sweating all over it?" he asked, unable to help it. So help him, he liked the way their fingers tangled together. Alex could probably feel the calloused fingers in an even more pronounced way than a handshake might have.

Gymnasts were ruthless when it came to the care of their hands, after all. As long as they were still usable... "Come on," he mumbled, giving a small tug in order to lead the way. Maybe Alex should have led? Was that how this should have gone? Dick turned abruptly, stepping into the other's path but managed to get his free hand up and plant his feet so the unexpected stop didn't take them both down to the ground in a painful tangle of limbs. "Please tell me if I do something stupid?" Dick begged, trying to ignore how warm Alex's chest felt under his cautious palm. "I'm already embarrassing myself enough, I'd rather keep that... between us. You, at least, won't laugh. Not... to be mean."

This, at least, was easy. One look into eyes so blue Alex could still see them in the orange sodium light overhead and he knew without a shadow of a doubt he'd bend over backwards to put some joy in Dick Grayson's life. He put his hand over the hand on his chest and gave him an encouraging smile. See? He could be professional.

He could.

"Hey, I'm a safe space, all right?" Alex gave both of Dick's hands a small squeeze. "But I'm also not afraid to call you out—even when it's you being too hard on yourself. And if I laugh, I promise to do my best to turn it into a teachable moment. What we're doing right now? I'm your safety net. I've got you, G."

Safety net. Right. Dick immediately thought of people on a trapeze, the way they trusted each other to be there when one was in full air and gravity the only other participant for that one moment. Dick had seen that once, had felt the way his heart had been in his throat. Had wanted so badly to have that same trust in a person and not just a bar that would be there for him to grab with chalked hands.

"I--" he started and felt his mouth go dry. "Yeah." For a brief moment, maybe like that weightless one a trapeze artist felt, he dared to have a dangerous thought: what if he didn't have to try any harder than what he was doing with Alex? It already felt easier, even if he was still getting into his own head about it. The taunts from high school were always loud and Alex... "We should go inside," he said softly, eyelashes fluttering as he forced himself to pull his hand away from the other's chest and turn toward the restaurant. "Teachable moments," he muttered. "Safety net." Right.

Watching something vulnerable cross over Dick's face didn't leave Alex entirely unaffected. He was human. It was normal. Just because this was his job didn't make him an unfeeling asshole only out for a paycheck. Genuine care went into all his consultations. This just happened to be the first time it was for someone he'd personally known before. But it was fine. He could do this. He let the distance between them grow until their hands slid naturally apart. No need to read anything into that. "You go on ahead. I need to make a quick call, but I'll be right behind you."

He put every single ounce of his confidence into the smile he gave Dick as the door slid closed between them, then immediately put in a call. "Hey, yeah, Bianca? Can you see if they can squeeze me in for a massage first thing tomorrow morning?" Alex raked his fingers through his hair. "I can already tell I'm going to need one."

---

Dinner had honestly been great. They'd talked, and Alex had coached. Not much, just little things here and there. Topics to broach on a first date; things to avoid like the plague. Their shared past made it tempting to delve into the deeper stuff, but Alex wisely navigated around it. Much better to keep things light.

It held through their texts and chats, which flowed just as naturally as their first conversation and second "date" (a local artist's exhibit and food trucks) and third (rockwall climbing [ow, his arms, why])—and fourth, fifth, etc. They sent memes and videos and all kinds of nonsense, and Alex woke up smiling when he saw he had a message first thing. About a week in, he was still in denial of just how down bad he was, and yet it was growing more and more obvious that Dick was finally ready to try this on his own.

As though summoned, he got another text right then.

I'm ready to ask someone out.

Alex stared at it. His smile turned fixed. Probably rictus-like. He sent back a flood of grinning emojis, party hats, and fireworks. That night would be the last time they'd be getting together after nearly a week and a half of living in each other's pockets. He was happy for Dick. Thrilled. Really and truly. This was the best outcome he could have hoped for, especially for someone as special as Dick.

Alex shoved his pillow over his face and screamed.

---

He had been ready to ask someone out, Dick had texted. But the reply back had made him hesitate. Which was why he didn't respond that night.

Or the next day. Or within the first twenty-four hours. Dick turned his phone over and over his hands before making his decision. It took a little longer than he meant to get ready as Dick spent more time on his appearance than he had every time Alex and he had gone out on the little... trial runs. Practice competitions, his brain supplied. "Scrimmages," he muttered to no one as he left his apartment and hit the street.

And then he took the bus, which was his first mistake. The frazzled woman with the screaming toddler had apologized profusely, trying to dab at the front of his shirt with what he hoped was a clean tissue. Dick gave a smile that was meant for reporters: easy and charismatic. "Don't worry about it," he said for what had to be the fifth time. Getting juice dumped all over him from the smaller occupant of the seat in front of him had not been on his bingo card for the day. Dick worried about it. But what was done was done and his stop was coming up.

Dick didn't quite bolt but, well, he needed off that bus and suddenly none of it was a good idea as he peered up at the office building. It was just as daunting as it had been the first time. This time, however, he didn't have an appointment. But Dick Grayson was a man on a mission and he breezed past anyone who might have stopped him, including the poor assistant outside Alex's office whose fingers only managed to graze his sleeve as he threw the door open with much more force than he'd meant to. And then he froze, realizing what he had actually done. Dick had thrown all caution to the wind and now stood mere feet away from a very attractive blond while wearing a juice-covered grey button-up shirt and at least his black slacks hid most of the evidence of how the bus ride had gone.

"I am so sorry-" Alex's assistant chirped from beside him. "I'll have security-"

"I'll make it fast," Dick promised and forced himself to move, slapping a hand down on Alex's desk after pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket. It had been unfolded in the too-few steps it had taken to cross the space and when Dick lifted his hand even though his eyes hadn't left Alex's face... there was the most stupid message scrawled out in a sharpie.

Go on a date with me? it read and under which were two boxes drawn. Yes or No were the options.

The sheer number of times Alex had picked up his phone in the last couple of days and pulled up his texts with Dick didn't bear thinking about. Needless to say, the occurrences were as numerous as they were pathetic. Sometimes it was just to check in, others were some picture of dumb meme he wanted to share. But those last two messages always gave him pause and made him switch to something else entirely.

It was harder to do in the middle of the night, when all he could see was Dick's smile when he closed his eyes.

So imagine his shock when the very man himself marched into his office and presented him with a truly baffling piece of paper. Alex slowly reached for his earbuds, phone on the desk in front of him with a call connected to a 'Miss S'. "Hey, Sabrina, I'm going to have to call you back. I'd say good luck at the awards tonight, but we all know it's in the bag. See you in a couple of weeks for the charity gala."

He rang off with a small swipe, then put a finger on the proffered paper and dragged it closer. A bemused brow rose as his gaze went from the scrawled question up into those dangerously blue eyes. Alex almost swallowed his own tongue. "Kind of elementary—and not something we covered, but I guess it still works. Who's the lucky so-and-so?"

Dick didn't dare drop that gaze. If he did, he was going to lose the last of his courage. He looked like a mess, he felt like a mess, and he was about to take a massive blow to his ego. He was sure of it.

Instead of using words, he reached out and grabbed a pen from Alex's desk and held it up between them. "What's your answer?" he managed to say and hated the way his heart was pounding. His pulse could probably be seen in the vein in his neck.

A flush bloomed across his cheeks and flooded down his neck and across the back. Still, his voice was surprisingly steady as he called out, "Bianca? Cancel the rest of my meetings and close the door behind you. In fact, take the rest of the day."

On the periphery, he saw her duck out of the room. He thought she was smiling. There was a long weekend in her future, probably. Alex took the pen with slightly shaking fingers, because holy shit. Holy shit. Was this happening? It probably crossed so many lines. The pen hovered above the page, but before ink could touch paper, the chair rolled back and crashed into the wall as Alex stood abruptly. He was around the desk and right in Dick's space before he could overthink it. Get in his own way.

Behind him, he circled his answer even while he got a grip on the side of Dick's neck. "Yes."

"You were supposed to check a box," Dick said wryly but heat was creeping up his own neck and he was certain that Alex could feel it beneath his fingers.

He'd made the first move but Alex had made the second. That left Dick a turn and he leaned in to kiss the other man but hesitated just before making contact. It only lasted a moment before he finished closing their distance, small though it might have been. He was under no illusion that he was any sort of good at it but it was an easy first kiss, he thought as he drew back and let his nose drag along Alex's as though reluctant to lose contact entirely. His hands had come up unbidden at some point to rest on Alex's hips and the blood definitely rushed to his head.

"Ah," Dick said, cringing though his mouth pulled upward into what he hoped resembled a smile. "Sorry. I..." suck at this? Dick let the comment die.

"No 'sorry'," Alex admonished a little breathlessly. His brain was just swimmy enough to also lightly scoff a delayed, "And pedantic. Oh, my god, I can't believe how into that I am. Into you."

With a tiny smirk, he tipped his head up the necessary distance to brush his lips against Dick's again. Anything to feel that electric spark again. All his anxieties about any of this melted away, because the truth of the matter was this: Dick made him happy. And Alex thought he could make the other man happy, too. Relationships would always have their ups and downs, but it was important to have that as one of the building blocks. "We never got to cover the first kiss, but I'd say you've got it down pat. Also, I'm firing you as a client. On principle."