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Make Up

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The first time that Dick sees Roy wearing makeup, they’re both barely old enough to drive and it’s absolutely not for a mission.

It’s one of the rare weekends that they have the place to themselves and Dick is expecting a little fooling around now that dinner is done and the necessary patrols are completed.

Dick likes Roy. He likes him a lot.

He likes that sometimes they just click and even with how close the team already is, he likes that they’re closer in different ways. Dick likes the way the older teenager touches him and smiles at him as though he’s someone special. And he absolutely loves the way that Roy kisses him when they’re alone with no judging eyes watching --quick, sharp, and sweet, lingering just long enough for Dick to want more.

That’s why Dick is knocking at Roy’s door at eleven at night while wearing his pajama bottoms, his domino, and nothing else. At first, Roy doesn’t answer and Dick starts to fidget, worrying that perhaps he’s done something to upset his older friend. He presses his ear to the door and then, when he hears the faint sound of music, reaches for the doorknob.

The door is not locked. The handle turns easily in Dick’s grip and swings open on nearly silent hinges to reveal the darkened interior of Roy’s private bedroom. Even in the semi-dim light coming from the hallway behind him Dick can see Roy’s familiar decorations. The posters and memorabilia are the same as they always have been: a mix of Robin Hood and Bruce Lee that should look strange together. Instead, they just remind Dick of Roy.

Dick smiles for a second and then raps his knuckles on the side wall next to the door. “I know you’re awake,” he calls out, tone light as he walks further into Roy’s room, picking a path over broken arrows and discarded civilian clothes that leads to the older teen’s messy bed. “I thought we were going to--”

The sound of rustling fabric startles Dick and he freezes, looking around the room silently. “Roy,” Dick whispers, voice unsure for the first time. “Is everything okay?”

A few seconds go by.

Ten.

Fifteen.

A minute passes before Dick gets a response and the sound of Roy’s grumbled, “If I say yes, will you go away?” causes him to flinch before he can relax. He shakes his head before remembering that it’s dark enough in the room that Roy might have some trouble seeing him.

“No way,” Dick says, tone almost a singsong as he crosses the floor to stand over Roy’s bed. One of the lumps on the bed moves and when Dick sees a flash of red hair, he can’t help himself. “We have the tower to ourselves. Why waste it being alone?” He reaches for the blanket covering Roy’s head and pulls it off with a flourish, expecting to be pulled down and kissed soundly. “Unless patrol really was that--”

Dick’s sentence trails off before it can be completed and he stares down at Roy as the older boy glances away. The line of Roy’s jaw is sharp and tense enough to cut glass, but that isn’t what draws Dick’s attention. What does manage to capture Dick’s attention is the dark gleam of a deep purple lipstick across Roy’s lips.

He stares for a second and then seems to come back to himself. “You’re wearing lipstick,” Dick blurts out, eyes wide as he watches Roy’s lips tremble and he has to fight the urge to touch the shiny skin that he has kissed a dozen times before.

Roy’s green eyes slide shut and he tenses up visibly. “Yeah I am,” he mutters, still refusing to meet Dick’s curious gaze. “You have a problem with that?” He forces himself to look up at Dick then, thick eyebrows drawn low over eyes that are made up with dark eye shadow glittery enough to reflect the light coming from the hallway. “If you do, you can just get out of my room right now.”

Dick shakes his head, already in motion. He climbs onto Roy’s bed and settles against the older boy with his knees pressing into the mattress on either side of Roy’s narrow hips. He cups Roy’s cheeks with his hands, feeling stubble underneath his thumbs, and then leans in until their mouths are all but pressed together. When Dick kisses Roy, there’s something different about the kiss.

Something softer.

When Dick pulls away from the kiss and settles back against Roy’s knees, he’s pleased to see that Roy is smiling at him now and that there’s a hint of amusement visible in the quirking of his lips. “What’s so funny?”

Roy licks his lips delicately as not to mess his lipstick up further and then strokes his callused fingers over the outsides of Dick’s leanly muscled arms in a caress that leaves goose pimples rising in its wake. “You’re wearing my lipstick,” he offers as Dick shifts in his lap and sighs.

Dick grins. “I’m sure it looks better on you,” he says in the next breath, already leaning back in to steal another open mouthed kiss from Roy’s made-up mouth.

“We’ll have to try it out some other time,” Roy murmurs before Dick can kiss him again. He slides his arms around Dick’s body so that he’s holding the other teenager even closer to his body and rests his head on the curve of the other boy’s shoulder. “I thought you’d hate me if you saw me like this.” Roy’s tone is almost conversational, but a shiver jolts through Dick’s spine so hard that Roy can feel it.

Dick shakes his head. “Why would you think that,” Dick breathes, reaching for Roy’s face again. His fingers shake against Roy’s cheek and when their lips meet in a kiss that is sure to smear the older boy’s lipstick, his fingers push into Roy’s thick red hair to hold him close. This time when Dick pulls away, he can feel the thin layer of Roy’s lipstick against his skin. He doesn’t wipe it off.

“You look gorgeous,” Dick confesses in a fast rush of words, a smile teasing at the edge of his mouth as he makes himself comfortable in Roy’s lap. “I could never hate you for that.”

He smiles properly and then strokes his thumb over the high curve of one of Roy’s sharp cheekbones. “I’m a bit jealous that you look better in makeup than I do though, but I'm sure I’ll get over it.”