Who: Simon Lewis and Dick Grayson Where: Simon’s studio When: Late August What: Singing and kissing Rating/Warnings: FTB Status: Complete
Once his shift was ended, Dick made his way up to Simon’s studio, as loosely promised. He was, admittedly, very tardy in visiting his friend's studio. Especially as Tim had been the designer for it and already benefited from its quiet, calm oasis. Which Dick still had to thank Simon for. Sometimes the elder Robin had no idea what to say or do when his younger brother was struggling with things. The instance before Tim's birthday had been one of them, but Simon, sweetheart that he was, had invited him to a safe space where he could just be. Which was exactly what the little bird had needed at the time.
Pausing outside the door, he wondered for a second if the soundproofing would stop a knock from being heard. So he fished his phone from his pocket and texted: "knock knock" instead. Even as his thoughts skipped to whether Simon could sense if someone was at the door or not. There were still hundreds of questions he had about vampires and how everything worked but he was trying not to bombard his friend with them.
Since he'd been half-keeping an ear out of his visitor anyway, the sudden buzz of his phone didn't really startle him. The door popped open not quite an instant after Dick's text came through, but close enough that there probably wasn't even a small pause between the two actions. Simon grinned at his friend with a cheery, "Hi!" and then leapt aside to allow his friend entrance. "So I'm going to do my best not to give you the toddler tour, where I take your hand and drag you around the room to show off all my toys, but let's be real: I totally wanna do that anyway."
He laughed, self-effacing, and rubbed at his upper arm, over the short sleeved band shirt he'd thrifted recently. It was weird how tightly things like that fit now, even though he got them in the same size he always did. Well, maybe not weird. Except yes, weird. Supernatural-weird. "But I'll spare you and maybe just give you the highlights instead, yeah?"
"Hi!" Sidling into the impressive space as Simon stepped aside, Dick’s eyes wandered before he could check them, taking in the tight fitting shirt and appreciating the way the material clung to his form. Giving himself a mental shake, he instead held out his hand to Simon and wiggled his fingers, "Toddler tour please. Show me all your cool toys." He chuckled, taking in the room as a whole, he had to admit that his brother had done a great job on the place, and could see how much Simon liked it too.
"Maybe next time I can show you all my cool toys, though they're not all in one place." A devilish little smile came to his face, "I'll take you for a spin in one and maybe you can try on one of the others."
The enigmatic offer made Simon's brows shoot upward and pause before he somewhat shyly took the other's hand. He'd been mostly kidding, but some warm feeling moved through him when Dick acquiesced. "Color me intrigued, for sure."
He laughed and then really did show Dick through his studio space, pointing out which instruments had come from home (all of them), along with a few stories of how he got them, and the furniture Tim had managed to requisition (or outright pilfer) for him. Although on the small side, the couch was definitely the pride of place, and soon enough Simon was ushering his friend there before pulling out a rolling stool and making a sweeping gesture at his equipment. "So pick your poison. Do you want to be serenaded? Or do you want to play Name That Tune? There's also Musical Roulette, where you shout out songs and see if you can stump me while I flounder my way through awkward transitions or have to pass."
Simon's grin turned playful. "And if you're not into any of that, I'm sure the couch is probably comfortable for other things, too."
Giving a wink, Dick held Simon's hand lightly as he enjoyed the tour. It really was a very cool studio. The conversion from dorm room to musical hub was impressive, and he had to hand it to both Simon and Tim, they'd done a great job. But the high points of the tour were the little anecdotes about the instruments and the obvious passion in Simon's voice as he talked about them.
Settling on the couch (knees apart, with one leg over the arm) he pondered the options laid out before him for a moment. "See, I'm curious whether bands and songs are the same across universes, but I know making out on a sofa is pretty standard no matter where you hail from in the multiverse. So I'm in a quandary… perhaps you should serenade me first and see if you can influence my decision?" A tiny smirk curved his lips then. "A guess-which-song-turns-me-on kind of deal."
That sprawl, whether artful or carelessly decadent, had every single bit of Simon's attention for just long enough for his fingers to fumble over a clumsy chord.
He cleared his throat, and then inclined his head. "That might be part of the fun, finding commonalities."
With a shrug, he began to play the first few notes of The Beatles "I Will". If anything could pull him away from the fog of attraction, it was music he loved, music that brought him comfort. He didn't start singing at once, just played the melody as he said, "I really think being able to play again saved my life after I was turned."
Simon wasn't sure he'd ever told anyone that. Not even Clary. He chewed his lip for a moment before humming along, pausing only to say, "Stop me when you've figured it out."
"Then we'll find them, until we want to play something else." He gave a little wink, well aware of how distracted his seating position had made the other.
"Well, I'm glad you had music to pull you through." He wasn't exactly sure how vampires in Simon's world could die and it wasn’t a question he wanted to ask. His friend's words alluded to the fact it was possible, for the vampire themselves to do, but Dick didn't need all the gory details.
The melody was familiar, the song one he remembered hearing whilst on the road with the circus. Some classic rock and roll station his parents had liked. A soft smile came to his face and as Simon started to hum, the words formed in his head and he joined in, "Will I wait a lonely lifetime, If you want me to, I will."
It was a pleasant surprise that he could recall that early memory so easily, especially after everything that had happened prior to his arrival in this world. "The Beatles, I Will. If you need an official answer."
The wattage of Simon's smile was only rivaled by the delight in his eyes when Dick nailed it. There was a quality to the look on his friend's face that almost made him ask about it. Honestly, the only reason he didn't was because it reminded him of the way Jace would get sometimes—like he was stuck in a memory Simon had no hope of remembering himself. Something private and bittersweet.
His fingers picked out a few random notes as he nodded his approval. "Nice, nice. Good to hear your universe has them. I couldn't imagine a world without it. Which, y'know, hilarious, because of 'Imagine'."
Simon chuckled and played the first few chords of "Blackbird" and then "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" before heading into a different band and era. "I close my eyes/ Only for a moment/And the moment's gone…"
That smile actually had him flustered for a moment and he felt the tiniest blush flood his cheeks with heat for a second. He was by no means a great singer, but he was usually on key at least. "Me either, they were a staple when I was really young, Mom and Dad would listen to them on the camper’s radio while we travelled from city to city." A much simpler time.
Dick enjoyed the few bars of each additional Beatles song Simon played, his mind filling in the lyrics for him, but he was stumped when it came to the next song. He thought he knew the melody, but he couldn’t recall the lyrics at all, or the band who performed them.
"A seventies band, but I don’t know which?" Dick admitted, "You sound great regardless of my lack of knowledge."
"Hey, points for getting the era right. Here, I'll give you the chorus." Simon continued with the more recognizable part, singing, "Dust in the wind/All they are is/Dust in the wind."
He continued to play a little bit more of it, just because it was a gorgeous melody and the finger work was fun. And then he decided to play around and shot Dick a devious look. "I don't expect you to know this one, but please tell me you've at least heard it."
And then he began to play "Concierto de Aranjuez" by Joaquin Rodrigo. "I got into music young. Mom plunked me into piano lessons when I was old enough hold my head up." A pause and a wry smile. "I'm only slightly exaggerating. But it really has been a huge part of me growing up. I was an awkward kid who thought that being in a band might elevate my social standing. Turns out that only works when people actually go to your shows, which was not what happened."
"Ohhh, Kansas." Dick grinned, the chorus giving it away immediately. The devious look had him tilting his head in curiosity, wondering what song was going to come next. So far they had been increasing in difficulty, so the next one was probably something in the classical genre.
He had to stifle a smile when his theory proved correct. "So like me and the trapeze." Dick grinned, "I’m not actually exaggerating." Listening to the music as much as the story, he nodded, not that he really could relate to the whole band thing. But he could definitely relate to the awkward kid thing. Being a Mathlete wasn’t the coolest, nor was attending society balls and operas on weekends. "Orange juice." Dick snorted, "At least that’s what I called it. Nobody came to your shows?"
Dick's answer seemed nonsensical for a moment, giving Simon enough pause that his fingers mangled a chord. He winced at the discordant sound, but then laughed when it all suddenly resolved itself in his head. "Deep Purple. Nice. Either you're super dating yourself or someone in your life has good taste."
He gave a half shrug, jostling his guitar but not disrupting the notes this time. "I wasn't popular, by any means. Too full of my own artistic merits to hang with the nerd-slash-geek crowd, but without any of the established clout to hang out with any of the upper high school social echelon. The closest I got was with Clary, and that's only because we were already a packaged set well before we were fresh meat. It wasn't all bad. I didn't have an established bully or anything like that. But you know how we are at that age. Not quite Lord of the Flies, but too close for comfort."
At this point, he'd just been playing more random snatches of songs, most of them classical, but not necessarily written for guitar, the game forgotten for the moment. Simon glanced at his friend and felt embarrassment for his sudden bout of oversharing drop heavily through his insides. He pointedly cleared his throat and began to play in earnest. "Join in if you know this one." He smiled slowly at Dick. "Saying 'I love you'/Is not the words I want to hear from you..."
"I know someone with good taste, a few people actually. First my parents and then Bruce. Though B is secretly cool and I'm pretty sure he didn't get into good music until later. Actually it was probably Hal who got him into the good music. He's a test pilot, also a superhero." Dick grinned, realising that he was talking far too much for someone who was supposed to be listening to and guessing the song being played. Though that changed to listening to Simon's story, which could have been about a few people he knew from school. Himself included, "My best friends weren't at school, so I understand that."
High school was very hierarchical and cliquey, if you didn't have a niche to wedge yourself into things were tough. Thankfully they were both grown up and out of that toxic environment now. The next song was one he had heard often, played at many school dances and he joined in with Simon at exactly the right moment when the second voice should step in. His voice wasn't as good as his friend's at all, but they made it work all the way through to the da-di-da part without incident.
Naturally, Simon had no idea who these people were, other than obviously being important people in Dick's life. They must've been pretty special, but they'd already steered away from family talk and high school talk, all talking supplanted by the music flowing around them. By the end, his initial impulse had flared back to life, and he knew his eyes were probably glittering with intent. "Please tell me I'm at least within the wheelhouse of turning you on, because I've gotta admit—this is really working for me."
This time he did smile as he caught the look in Simon's eyes, the one which had been present earlier in the evening and now was back full force. "Well, if it's working for you then it works for me too." Dick's smile was slow, seductive, and he leaned back on the couch, stretching a little more invitingly. "So this couch is pretty comfortable, or would you rather not christen your studio this way?"
Goosebumps raced across Simon's skin. He wasn't so far gone as to recklessly toss his guitar aside, however, no matter how much more delicious Dick had made himself. The instrument was set down with care as he said, "I feel like it's a rite of passage to c-word a musician's space with a mutually fun activity, soooo…"
(He still wasn't sure where the line was on certain words and what being a vampire meant when trying to use them. Having a flaming tongue was only sexy in academic and/or fanfic circles. Definitely not in the practical realm.)
Simon fidgeted for just a moment, not out of nerves, but an uncertainty of where exactly he wanted to go first. In the end, he set his knees in the space Dick had provided between his own on the couch cushions and leaned in toward him. "Clear and consensual communication, right? It's very hot. Like…I'd really like to kiss you and touch those incredible abs, if that's cool?"
"Yeah, I think I heard that too." Dick’s eyes tracked his friend as the guitar was gently set on its stand. Wondering if that careful touch would extend to him, all of a sudden he was wondering if Simon had even done this before with a guy. He’d only ever mentioned Clary, no boyfriends.
The hesitation, despite the eagerness, turned that wondering into knowing and his smile softened. "I’m not going to do anything you don’t want to do, or aren’t ready to experience." Sliding his hand to rest against the side of Simon’s neck, he leaned forward, "It’s absolutely cool."
Any hesitation was gone, replaced by the kind of confidence that came with a clear yes. The cold of Simon's fingers couldn't be helped as they boldly bypassed the hem of his friend’s (FWB??) shirt and skated up the sculpted muscles he'd thought about more than once. It had been a while with anything that wasn't his own hand and fading memories of the last few months.
There was Clary, of course, and the handful of hook-ups he'd had before with gals and guys alike. And since he'd become a vampire? Anything he'd done had been so much more intense. Simon drew Dick toward him with the careful grip he had on the other's shoulder at the same time he leaned in, meeting him halfway. Their lips brushed, and he felt it all the way down to the base of his spine.
Simon hummed his approval and did it again, longer, a little more firmly.
He should have expected the coldness of Simon's fingers, especially considering the cool skin under his own at his friend's neck, but the fact he was a vampire had slipped to the back of Dick's mind. Just as he didn't think about Kori being an alien, or Kaldur an Atlantian, they were his friends, period. So the little shiver that raced after that careful touch was unexpected and he hummed. The sensation of cold on warm was definitely a good one.
He moved easily with Simon, lips meeting and sending a lick of anticipation up into his brain. There was no hesitating when the second kiss came and he slipped his free hand around Simon's back, easing him closer and steadying his precarious position.
Always nice when a potential partner actually had chemistry. Simon had been on the wrong side of that an embarrassing number of times. Fortunately, this wasn't the case with Dick, which allowed Simon to flow where directed and settle in for some good fun—the perfect coda to an already great evening.