Sea and Sky:


by Chicago

'rith will forward feedback

Officer Dick Grayson dropped heavily into the easy chair in the living room. "Put a fork in me," he groaned. His hair was plastered down around his head, showing a ring where his hat had rested. Hints of road grime clung to his neck and cheeks, smudging his face. The dirt almost hid the bags under his eyes, a product of a sleep debt grown too big.

Garth studied his lover for a moment, taking in the whole body slump with which he occupied the chair. Then he rose from his place at his desk and crossed into the living room. "Tough day?" he asked sympathetically as he settled down on the floor at Dick's feet and began unlacing one of Dick's boots.

"Huge hazmat crash on 51. I've been directing traffic all day. My mouth tastes like road."

"Tsk. On such a hot day. I hope they kept you hydrated."

Dick smiled wearily at his lover as Garth pulled off his first boot. "I drained about four bottles of water. That was tasting like road by the end of my shift, too."

Garth pulled a face and began working on the laces of Dick's second boot. "Nothing like the flavor of road," he deadpanned as he pulled off the boot.

Dick groaned and wiggled his toes. "God, it feels good to be out of those."

Garth caught the just-freed foot and began running the balls of his thumbs along Dick's arch.

Dick moaned and slumped impossibly deeper into the chair. "You're making me melt."

Garth continued massaging Dick's foot. "Is that a bad thing?"

"God, no. Don't stop."

Garth smirked and pressed his thumbs alongside Dick's ankle before working his fingers along Dick's phalanges. Dick's metatarsals. Dick's head lolled, and a whimpering sound came from his throat. Garth shifted to Dick's other foot, massaging it forcefully and taking his cues from the noises Dick continued to make. There were no other sounds in the house; just Dick's quiet and growing quieter moans and sighs. Gradually, the sounds gave way to deepening breaths, and when Garth looked up, Dick was sound asleep.

Garth gently set down Dick's foot and rose to his feet. He considered tucking a blanket over his exhausted lover, but the way Dick was crashed out -- no, he'd wake up with more aches and cricks than he'd fallen asleep with.

With an effortless strength he rarely used on his lover, he scooped Dick from his chair. Dick murmured and snuggled into Garth's hold, but did not wake. He carried Dick to their bedroom, where he stripped off the uniform Dick wore until his lover was wearing only boxers and a t-shirt. Dick still didn't wake up, although once allowed to, he curled onto his side and deeper into sleep. Garth smiled and brushed at Dick's greasy curls.

He leaned down to kiss Dick's forehead, and his eyes widened when he found himself suddenly caught by a firm hold. "Dick?" Garth had been certain he was asleep.

"Cuddle me," he mumbled, his iron grip not loosening.

Garth bit back the urge to laugh. "Okay," he agreed, sliding onto the bed next to Dick. He wrapped his arms securely around his lover and let himself drift to sleep.