Richard woke to weight before thought.
A warm, unfamiliar pressure rested against his chest, steady and rhythmic, paired with the soft brush of breath at the base of his throat. For a disoriented second, instinct flared, muscles tensing as his mind scrambled to catch up with his body. The ceiling above him wasn't his. The light was wrong. Dimmer. Violet-tinged.
Raven's room.
Memory settled back into place slowly, like pieces clicking into alignment. The quiet. The exhaustion. The bed.
And then he looked down.
Raven was curled against him, closer than he remembered. Somehow, in sleep, she had shifted until her legs were tangled with his, knees drawn up slightly, fitting herself into his side with unconscious precision. One arm was draped loosely across his torso, fingers fisted gently in the fabric of his shirt as if she'd anchored herself there without realizing it.
Her head rested on his chest.
A small, undignified line of drool had escaped the corner of her mouth, darkening the fabric just below his collarbone.
Richard froze.
Not out of fear. Out of something dangerously close to fondness.
She looked… younger like this. Softer. Her usual rigid control had dissolved entirely in sleep. Her expression was slack, unguarded, lashes dark against her cheeks. Each breath she took puffed warm air against his neck, ticklish and intimate in a way that made his ears burn.
Carefully, so carefully, he shifted his head just enough to see her properly without disturbing her. She made a tiny sound in her sleep, a barely-there hum, and tightened her grip on his shirt by a fraction.
Richard's heart did something uncomfortable.
He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He was almost certain she hadn't either. And yet here they were, tangled together like this was the most natural thing in the world.
He didn't feel trapped.
He felt… trusted.
The thought settled heavily in his chest, right alongside her weight. Raven didn't let people this close. Everyone knew that. Physical proximity was something she rationed carefully, like it might cost her if she gave too much.
And she'd crossed the distance in her sleep without hesitation.
Richard swallowed, throat dry.
He considered moving. Untangling himself gently, creating space before this became something awkward, something that needed explaining. He was good at that. At stepping back before lines blurred.
But Raven shifted again, pressing her cheek more firmly into his chest, and let out a contented sigh that vibrated softly against him.
Richard exhaled slowly, tension draining out of him in spite of himself.
Just a little longer, he decided.
He stayed still, muscles aching slightly but ignored, one hand hovering uselessly at his side as if unsure where it was allowed to exist. He stared up at the ceiling, listening to her breathing, to the quiet hum of the tower beyond the walls.
It was absurd. Endearing. Completely unplanned.
And for the first time in what felt like days, his mind was quiet.
"Dick? Are you awake?" She whispered into his chest. Her voice was muffled. Richard went slightly still at the nickname.
"Dick? Really? I don't think someone's used that nickname since batman." Richard teased
Raven-no Rachel- let out a grumble of discontentment and tightened herself around his body like an anaconda.
"I'm calling you whatever I please." She whispered pettily.
"Someone's being grouchy. Did you know you drool in your sleep?" Richard continued his relentless teasing. He couldn't help himself, I mean come on. Rachel of all people being this clingy? Richard didn't mind it, he enjoyed being physical with other people.
Rachel's cheeks were warm and she buried her face into his neck hurriedly. Richard let out another laugh and he wanted to kiss her forehead before he stopped himself. As a matter of fact, now that he was more awake, how did he even get here? This was not okay. If Starfire or Beast boy saw them...scorched earth. Richard understood that the position they were in was very delicate.
"Rachel?" He lifted his palm and stroked her back to get her awake
"mmm?"
"Rachel, I have to leave." He whispered hurriedly.
"You don't have to leave." Rachel let out a yawn in his neck that made him slightly ticklish.
"Stop playing semantics, you know what I mean."
"Maybe you can explain why you have to leave? I've got the time." Rachel didn't once make any move to get off him.
"Could you imagine if Beast boy saw us right now? Or starfire? The whole team would be absolutely broken. We're older now Rachel, surely you understand-" Richard took a pause and breathed in anxiously.
Rachel took her hand that was resting on his shirt, and slipped it underneath it. She rubbed his abs and then his chest, it strangely calmed him down. He lay his hand over hers in thanks.
"Surely you understand, that most people think a man and a woman being this close is..."
"Is what Dick?" He could feel her smile into his neck and he couldn't help but smile in response too. Rachel was teasing him. Now that was a surprise, what a cheeky witch.
"Well-I can't believe you're making me spell this out. Inappropriate for a lack of a better word." Her hand was still rubbing his chest, her fingers were drawing circles.
"Inappropriate? Just what do you wanna do to me Dick?" Rachel looked up innocently.
Richard huffed a quiet laugh, the sound vibrating faintly through his chest where her cheek was still pressed.
"Will you stop being so-so precocious for a second Rachel?"
"Did you just use precocious in a sentence?" Rachel echoed, lifting her head enough to look at him properly. Her eyes were still hazy with sleep, lashes clumped slightly, expression caught somewhere between innocent and entirely too pleased with herself.
"Don't act surprised," he said, arching a brow. "You know I read."
She snorted, an inelegant sound she immediately tried and failed to suppress. "I know you read. I just didn't know you'd weaponize vocabulary against me."
"I'm full of hidden talents."
Her hand continued its absent-minded path across his chest, fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns that felt more grounding than distracting, despite how aware he was of it. Richard swallowed, then deliberately relaxed his shoulders, refusing to let his body betray him.
"You still haven't answered my question," she said lightly.
He sighed. "Rachel."
"Yes, Dick?"
"That tone is not helping your case."
She smiled wider, unmistakably smug now, and settled back against him as if she'd already won. "You're the one who woke up in my bed," she pointed out. "I'm just being hospitable."
"You drooled on me," he reminded her.
"That's called trust."
"That's called gravity," he countered. "Saliva follows the laws of physics."
She hummed thoughtfully. "So you're saying this is inevitable."
He shook his head, laughing despite himself. "You're impossible."
"And yet," she said, nestling closer again, voice dropping into something quieter, softer, "you're still here."
That gave him pause.
He hadn't moved. Hadn't untangled himself. Hadn't even tried again after that first half-hearted attempt. His hand still rested over hers, thumb brushing lightly against her knuckles in a gesture he hadn't consciously decided on.
She noticed. Of course she did.
Her gaze flicked down briefly, then back up to his face, something unreadable passing through her eyes before she masked it with humor again.
"You always overthink," she murmured. "Even when you're exhausted."
"That's rich, coming from you."
She shrugged one shoulder. "I overfeel. Different problem."
He studied her for a long moment, the teasing ebbing just enough to let something more sincere surface. "I don't want to mess things up."
Rachel's expression softened. Not sad. Just… real.
"Then don't," she said simply. "You're not doing anything wrong by resting."
Her thumb stilled against his chest, resting flat over his heartbeat, and for a brief, dangerous second, Richard forgot every reason he'd had to leave.
He exhaled slowly. "Five minutes," he said at last. "Then I really go."
Her smile was small, but triumphant. "Five minutes," she agreed, closing her eyes again like it was already settled.
Raven woke to noise.
Sharp, insistent, utterly unwelcome.
The pounding against her door reverberated through the room, jarring against the soft cocoon of half-sleep she'd been wrapped in. For a disoriented second, she didn't understand why it felt so wrong, why irritation flared so quickly in her chest.
Then she felt him.
Warmth at her back. Solid, steady. An arm draped securely around her waist, hand resting just above her stomach like it had always belonged there. His breathing was even, slow, brushing the back of her neck with each exhale.
Dick.
He stirred faintly behind her at the sound, a small shift, his arm tightening by reflex as if anchoring himself. The movement sent a quiet thrill through her, sharp and immediate. Raven's lips curved before she could stop them.
He was spooning her.
The thought bloomed in her mind, bright and intoxicating. Not an accident. Not a fleeting moment. This was sustained closeness. Chosen, even if only unconsciously. His body curved to hers perfectly, like he'd known exactly how much space to take, how much to give.
Happiness settled over her like a heavy blanket.
The banging came again, louder.
"Raven!" Starfire's voice carried clearly through the door, cheerful and oblivious. "Do you know where Robin is? I have searched many locations and—"
Raven didn't hesitate.
She reached outward with practiced ease, shadows stirring obediently as she wove a thin veil of silence around the bed. The sound dulled instantly, softened until it was no more than distant vibration. Dick shifted again, but didn't wake. His breathing remained slow, undisturbed.
Good.
She told herself she was doing him a favor.
He needed rest. He deserved it. The world demanded enough from him already. Letting him sleep wasn't selfish. It was considerate. Protective.
Raven rolled slightly, just enough to press her back more firmly into his chest, and tightened her arms around the ones encircling her middle. His grip adjusted automatically, pulling her closer.
Her pulse quickened.
"Yes?" she called calmly toward the door, her voice carefully neutral.
"Do you know where Robin is?" Starfire asked again, undimmed by the lack of response time. "He is not in his usual places, and we were supposed to—"
"I don't," Raven said simply.
It wasn't even a lie. Not really. She knew where he was in the only way that mattered.
There was a pause on the other side of the door, followed by a bright, sudden realization. "Oh! Okay! It is just that we were supposed to go on a date, and I was hoping you might help me pick out an outfit. May I come in and talk with you?"
The word date struck like a spark.
Heat flared in Raven's chest, sharp and unwelcome. For a brief, ugly moment, she imagined Starfire's smile faltering, her warmth dimming, her presence erased from the equation entirely. The thought sent a dark, vindictive satisfaction curling through her veins.
She tightened her hold on Dick again, deliberately this time, claiming the space, the moment, the advantage. The sensation of having him here, wrapped around her, while Starfire stood outside the door unaware, thrilled her in a way she didn't immediately suppress.
Then she did.
Control mattered.
Raven inhaled slowly, centering herself, smoothing the anger into something colder, more refined. She glanced down at Dick's arm, at the way his hand rested so naturally against her, and reminded herself of the truth.
He was here.
Not with Starfire.
With her.
"I'm busy," Raven said evenly. "Another time."
"Oh!" Starfire replied, unfazed. "Of course! I did not mean to interrupt. I hope you have a restful day!"
Footsteps retreated down the corridor, light and untroubled.
Raven waited until the sound faded completely before releasing the veil of silence. She remained still, listening to Dick's breathing, feeling the solid reassurance of his presence behind her.
She closed her eyes.
This was progress.
Not dramatic. Not obvious. But real. Each small moment layered carefully atop the last, drawing him closer without force, without confrontation. She was no longer orbiting him at a distance. She was here, at the center of his quiet, where he sought rest without even realizing it.
Raven smiled faintly to herself.
She was closer than she'd ever been.
And soon, she wouldn't have to pretend otherwise.