Who:Dick and Clark What:Memories. When:Same day as the drunk net. Where:Their place Warnings:mentions of death so possibly R-ish for that if you aren't in a headspace to read about it.
Dick had decided he was tired of feeling sad. While he had hard liquors in the cabinets he wasn’t exactly feeling a need to get black out drunk. Just a little happy punch drunk. Blackout drunk could always happen later if it was badly needed, but he was pretty content with the four empty beer cans on the kitchen counter and the fifth half drunk one in his hand. He had a six pack and intended to finish that.
Scrolling through his phone was an interesting experience while not entirely sober. Drunk wasn’t a thing he experienced terribly often. Once in a blue moon really. A holiday or special occasion. And he was typically fairly picky and high brow when it came to liquor, this an entirely new thing…
He grinned and decided to send Clark a risque text since he had yet to join him. For lack of better term….a literal dick pick lit up his phone. Because apparently that’s what his drunk mind went to. He hadn’t really tried or anything, it mostly just amused the hell out of him as he leaned back against the counter to wait for the response.
Dick knew, by now, that the Kryptonian didn't keep alcohol in the house. There was no need for it. On top of that, it wasn't really a Clark thing to do either. So, he's not entirely sure what brought all of this on. It had him a bit worried, even if he wouldn't ever really admit it to himself. He'd ask the other man later, when he got home.
The phone of his dings and he's heading out to that banged up old red truck of his when he opens the message and nearly chokes on air. His cheeks and ears turn a little red and he was going to murder his boyfriend. That's exactly what he was going to do. Zap him. Or fly him so far out to the middle of nowhere and drop him somewhere.
He sends a simple text back: Are you trying to kill me?
Obviously, it's not a literal thing, but still! He's pretty sure that his boyfriend could even picture the damn blush. He's also going to put his phone on silent, shut it off or something! So he can drive home.
Clark didn’t need to. Dick was a grown ass person, he could go buy a six pack if he wanted to. Which was a rare thing that he wanted to. But considering Clark was out doing whatever it was he was doing at the time, it felt like a good plan. It amused him even which was a vast difference from how he had been feeling just a few hours prior. He’d lost someone exactly a year ago and didn’t feel like sinking into a depression, so this seemed like the better distraction.
The amount of time it took Clark to respond had him laughing. Yes, he could imagine exactly all that and just sent back a little winky face. ;) And set the phone down to wait. He laughed a bit and shook his head as he brushed his hand through his hair to push it away from his eyes. There were so many things going on in his head, none of them nearly as much fun as this option had been.
The Kryptonian wouldn't stop Dick from buying anything. He didn't care to have alcohol in their home, but he wouldn't stop his boyfriend from drinking it. Though, it did cause worry to gnaw at the firefighter. He knew that the other was happy with him, so it wasn't that. He'd ask him later or in a bit.
When the truck pulls up into the drive, he stops and gets out grabbing his phone. Making the mistake of checking his phone he sees the winky face before turning it off and shoving it into his pocket. His cheeks were still a bit flushed even as he headed into the house to find where his boyfriend was exactly.
"Dick?"
He was sitting on one of the chairs in the kitchen, but backwards and still quite amused about the text. He’d never really done anything like that for anyone, but liquid courage was sometimes a thing.
Dick couldn’t help but snicker at the sound of his boyfriend’s voice. “In here.” He knew he didn’t have to emphasize where the “here” was, thanks to Clark’s super hearing. “You weren’t with anyone when that happened were you?” He laughed, sorry Clark. You weren’t escaping that conversation even if he was still red.
Between the echo of the room and the sound of his boyfriend's voice, he knew exactly where he was. All he had to do was follow the beat of Dick's heart. He still couldn't believe that the other had sent him a pic like that. That was just... well, quite risque. He'd have to delete it from his phone eventually.
"I was walking to my truck when you sent it," Clark states, cheeks still a bit red even as he makes way towards the kitchen.
He laughed at that response and stood, a little wobbly on his feet just due to the sheer amount of alcohol he’d consumed. He was well on his way to actually drunk if he was “Damn.” He teased as he made his way toward him and snickered. He honestly would have loved to hear about the reaction it got.
“This is why you don’t leave me at home this long by myself. I might just get all kinds of ideas.” He was a bit of a mess, but a little bit of a hot mess. He rested a hand on Clark’s wrist for extra support.
Those eyes watch Dick as he gets up, noticing how wobbly his steps were. Even notices the beer cans on the table before his eyes return to his boyfriend. One that was tipsy as hell, if not already drunk. Which just has worry cross over his features a bit. Especially when he wasn't sure what even brought this on.
"You've been left home alone for longer by yourself," he points out, feeling that all too warm hand on his wrist. "And something like this has never happened before."
Dick just rolled his eyes at that comment. "It's fine." He was just teasing him, but instead sat back down in a chair nearby. "I'm fine." he tried to insist. He wasn't great in dealing with things, he chose this route obviously instead of trying to cope with things.
He ran that hand through his hair in frustration. "I saw it online. It's apparently in. Sending pictures like that." He didn't want to talk about the reason it happened.
"You're not fine." There was no way in hell that Clark would believe that either, not with the way that he was insisting. How many times had he seen someone like that during one of his fire rescues? Say how they're fine when ultimately they're not. Even he, himself, has had off days but nothing that would have him drinking. Besides, he needed to stay clean for the job too.
"Is it?" He didn't go online often, but he wasn't sure about that one, even if just the thought of the picture turned his cheeks and ears a bit pink with blush.
He’d gotten the water he promised to get at least, but he’d also nearly finished off a six pack by himself. He rubbed at his eyes as his vision blurred just a little. Dick rarely drank that much. If he had anything, it was sipping liquor and it wasn’t to get as drunk as he was now. “I can’t get it out of my head.” The blood and the memories. Not even the alcohol had really helped. It was all just a lot to deal with and he didn’t know how to deal with it in a healthy sort of way. When it’d all went down he just sort of shut down entirely. Now he was struggling not to.
“It was my fault.” He blamed himself for what happened in New York.
"Can't get what out of your head?"
He wasn't entirely sure what Dick was talking about, but he planned to get to the bottom of it. Clark moves over close and sits down on the floor, staring up at the other man where he was in his chair. This had something to do with his past, that much was obvious.
"Would they think it was your fault?"
“Last year I was living in new york with someone else. She was my fiance.” It wasn’t that he was still in love or anything like that, he’d moved on finally before having fallen for Clark but she was still part of his memories. “ I’d been at work all night and got a call from dispatch that I was needed back home.” He’d never gotten a call like that. “I got there, and she’d been shot. It was a targeted hit. Someone from this city.” Which was why he’d moved back in the first place. “One year ago today.” He fidgeted a bit with the can in his hands. “I’d been working a mafia case. It’s always them.” He shook his head with a bit of a smirk. Mafia jobs alway managed to throw his life into chaos.
“I wasn’t good enough. They found out where we lived. Destroyed everything.” That was why he couldn’t go to New York again, that memory of coming home to a murder scene would be burned in his mind forever. “..Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said anything.” He didn’t want to hurt his current partner or anything.
The Kryptonian couldn't remember the last time that Dick had talked about this. Normally it was something that he probably kept to himself. Did his boyfriend think that this kind of thing would hurt him? That it would drive him away? Though, he felt for him. Could feel his heart breaking. He was a firefighter, so he knew the types of calls that cops and detectives could get. It was even more brutal if it was family.
He takes the can away from him and reaches up setting it on the table, taking Dick's hands in his own and rubs his thumbs over the back of his hands. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. What happened, Dick, it wasn't your fault either. You have to know that. None of it was your fault."
Dick didn't talk about it. Not ever. It was a painful memory he would sooner forget, even if that was impossible. He also took Clark into consideration, he didn't want to hurt him. He always would think of his boyfriend too. " I could have been more.. I don't know." Careful maybe? Not nightwing? Not a cop? He wasn't sure what he could have been that meant nobody died.
He still felt so damn guilty. But he didn't pull away from Clark's touch. "I didn't even let myself make friends after that. Didn't deserve any. " He had been pretty quiet until Clark came along and saved him from drowning in his own misery. He hadn’t trusted anyone until Clark. Raven knew what happened, she was there. She'd told Donna. But Dick hadn't ever been able to say those things out loud until now. "If you want to leave me, I get it." He'd be devastated but he'd get it. Who would want someone who couldn't protect the people closest to him?
"You could've been more what, Dick?" He asks watching his boyfriend. He, himself, knew that if anything had happened to him because of their work lives, he wouldn't want his boyfriend to be hard on himself over it. Wouldn't want him to blame himself. There was nothing to blame. "You're not to blame."
He heard that and shakes his head. It hurt to know that Dick had thought he didn't deserve any friends back then. A part of him wished that he'd known them then, even if it meant not knowing the people he knew now. "Dick Grayson, you shut that mouth of yours. I'm not going anywhere. You'd have to get rid of me first. But for your information? You're stuck with me. We're together in this. Through everything. No matter what."
If anything happened to Clark, he would be beside himself. There was no way he'd not be hard on himself. It was just who he was, as exhausting as it was. "Different." Not in the line of work that he was, not as determined to take down organized crime. He gripped his hand a little. "I should have been there." There hadn't been any sign of lead up. "it was just a normal shift. I didn't know." He couldn't have. But it still haunted him
He still had a hard time accepting friends. His circle was small due to his own paranoia mostly. He was friendly enough but he didn't let anyone in past arms length. "I don't know what I did to deserve you." He gave a little smile. It was a bit strained though.
"No, Dick, you couldn't have been different. It's not who you are," he tells him softly. Clark gives that hand a firm squeeze. "You couldn't have known. Just like with me? I could lose any of my brothers at the fire stations during a call. I wouldn't know the signs beforehand. Not if I'm not on call. The same applies to what happened with you. You couldn't of known. Not if the shift was normal." The line of work that they had was a dangerous one.
He pulls Dick down a bit so he can kiss him softly," You were you, and I was me. We just clicked."
He'd been trained to spot signs like that from miles away. But there had been literally nothing. No clues to look for. As he was pulled down closer, he didn't fight it. "I failed her. I can protect total strangers but I'm useless to the ones closest to me." Ruby's father hadn't been impressed, the man knew it had been out of his control, but he still looked at him like he'd let them down. Dick hated that the most, letting anyone down.
He kissed him back, finding comfort in his touch. Feeling a little less cold and dead inside. He shifted a bit so he could lean against him.
"Dick, stop," Clark states firmly. He pulls him out the chair completely and into his lap. "You didn't fail anyone. Not Ruby, not anyone," he tells him. "Because if it had been anyone else? They wouldn't of seen the signs either. If it had been me? I wouldn't of seen the signs. It was not your fault, Dick. No matter what anyone says or what you think, it wasn't your fault. You couldn't do anything about it."
He wraps his arms around his boyfriend keeping him held close to him, no intention of letting him go.