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thejusticelounge2013-02-06 10:19 pm
bossymarmalade) wrote in thejusticelounge2013-02-06 10:19 pm
Entry tags:
taken for a fool
“Okay, Dick, I understand. It can wait until the weekend.” He even smiled as he said it, to convince them both he was less disappointed than he was. “But when I do see you Saturday, you better come hungry and thirsty and with your dancing shoes, because I’m taking you out to dinner, and clubbing, and maybe we’ll even skydive without parachutes for kicks, or scuba dive without gear…”
He opened the fridge as he tucked his bluetooth over his ear and kept talking as he grabbed himself a beer. “…An’ then we’ll come back here, slip in the hot tub…heh, yeah, we don’t have to worry about Ribbit starin’, either, I took her over to Hal’s place.”
Dick chuckled low, the sound going into a moan at the thought of the weekend with Guy. “That all sounds wonderful. How about a long weekend together, just you and me and everyone else can fend for themselves for a while? We can just talk and cuddle and play and… enjoy each other.”
He giggled to himself, glad Bette was taking long enough in the shower for him to talk to Guy. “I’m really sorry to change plans like this, Guy, but believe me, I’ll definitely make it up to you. Any way you’d like….”
“Dick…you don’t have to make anythin’ up to me. Besides, you’re bein’ a good friend right now. If ya weren’t capable of that, you an’ I wouldn’t be together in the first place.” Everyone in the entire League had heard of Bette Kane’s legendary crush on Dick, but from all he’d observed at the Halloween party and from what Dick had said, she was over it. But she was still as old and dear a friend to Dick as Ollie was to Guy, and Guy wasn’t going to begrudge Dick time with her. “You have fun skiing, Love. Don’t forget sunscreen.”
At that moment, he felt so close to Dick, even though he was three states away. “Dick?….You know I love you, right? I don’t want to even think what my life would be like without you.”
Dick curled up on the bed, hugging the pillow close as if it was Guy. “I do. I love you so much, Guy. I can’t even tell you how you’ve changed my life.” He paused, nibbling on his lip as he tried to think of what he wanted to say. “Guy? This weekend… I’ve got a lot of things to tell you. I can’t wait to see you. I love you.”
“I love you too, Amato. ‘Bye…”
Guy ended the call and tossed his phone down on the coffee table, and eased himself back in the armchair as he flicked on the TV. He tilted the bottle to his mouth and tried not to glance at the old brown ‘talking couch’, unoccupied now for almost two weeks. Thank God Kyle was returning soon.
This weekend was Dick’s, albeit starting a night late, and next week when he was ready, he’d reconnect with Kyle, here at home, and then head to Bludhaven for a little bit. Kyle was full of good ideas. Maybe he might pay Ollie a surprise visit next week, either at his place, or in his office on the Watchtower. And there was Kate, too…he hadn’t really talked to her in ages. Flowers weren’t enough. It was time to reconnect with her, too. And Hal. He should call Hal tomorrow and talk to him about seeing a movie. For that matter, maybe he should see if Hal wanted to catch a football game. Yes. It was definitely time to reconnect with Hal, too. A poker game wasn’t enough. They should do something, just him and Guy. For old times’ sake.
The noises and music from the bar downstairs drifted up, quite muffled, through the floor. Good, he thought, If I can hear it up here, it means a packed house down there. We could sure use the business.
He watched the news, finished another beer, and settled in to watch Die Hard. He was up to the part where he was saying Bruce Willis’ famous “Yippie-ki-yay” line along with him, when he heard steps on the stairs from the rooftop. He got up quickly, knocking over one of his empties as the handle on the door turned. Had he left it unlocked?
“…Kyle? That you?”
The door opened slowly, almost hesitantly, until there was enough space for the visitor to look into the room. “Guy? Hey.” Dick beamed from the doorway. “Sorry, Love. I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He walked in, smiling warmly at Guy, and shut the door firmly behind him.
“Dick?” Guy was surprised, certainly, but quite pleasantly. He quickly closed the distance and hugged him. “What are you doing here? I thought you and Bette were staying the night in Colorado?”
Dick hugged him back tightly. “Bette decided she better go back home. She was hurt more than she thought. I got her home and came to see you.” He pulled Guy into a passionate kiss and walked them over to the couch. “I’m very glad I did. I’ve missed you so much.”
“You really just made my whole night. Things have been pretty stressful, this ridiculous bunny business, and the mural… I’ve been sitting here trying to keep my mind off it…” he couldn’t let go of Dick, wanted nothing more than to be close to him. Something seemed off, though, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Everything okay, Dick?”
Dick pushed Guy onto the couch, straddling him, and kissed along his face. “It is now, Guy. I’m just… lonely.” He kept nuzzling Guy, slowly aware of a slight hesitancy from Guy. He sat back on Guy’s knees. “I’m sorry, Guy. I’m just…”
He trailed off, thinking over what Guy had said, and took Guy’s hands, running his thumbs over Guy’s fingers. “I’m so sorry about what happened. I just want to make you feel better.” He smiled shyly, squeezing Guy’s hands.
“Mmm, that sounds really good,” Guy smiled up at him, half-closing his eyes. “Anything…right now I’d take anything you have to offer to make me forget all this…” He craned his neck, and pressed his lips to his lover’s.
Dick smiled, rocking his hips against Guy’s. “I think I know just the thing….” He held Guy close, kissing him firmly as one hand stroked the back of Guy’s head. Dick’s fingers trailed lower, rubbing small circles down Guy’s neck. Soon, the hand had stopped petting Guy, but Dick still pressed himself against Guy, kissing him, rocking against him, moaning slightly. Suddenly, Dick’s grip tightened and a powerful fist came down hard on Guy’s neck.
Guy doubled forward with the impact, choking out a breath of air in surprise of the blow. He was seeing stars, and couldn’t focus. “Dihh…Dick?” he stammered, and brought up his hands defensively.
The bright, easy smile was still in place as Dick looked at him with what seemed like confusion. “Guy? It’s all right, darling. It’s all right.” With his last words, he punched Guy hard in the gut with more force than would be expected. As Guy again doubled forward, Dick followed with a strong right hook. He stood, giving himself more room to deliver the next blow.
Guy came up swinging, his shields now in place, though the damage had already been done; he was handicapped by a concussion and trying to breathe after the wind had been knocked out of him. The first blow could had been some terrible accident, but the punch to his solar plexus… this was an attack.
Dick Grayson, his lover, the person he’d allowed closer to his heart than anyone else, was attacking him. But still, Guy wasn’t going to try to reason this out. He was under attack. Period.
Hit back first, ask ‘what the fuck’ later.
An oversized construct hand lashed out, and curled its fingers around Dick’s throat, threatening to crush his windpipe as it lifted him off his feet. Slowly righting himself, his non-ring hand around his belly where Dick had punched him, he glared menacingly up at his attacker, then for a moment softened. This was Dick.
Dick clawed at the construct around him, legs flailing as he dangled in the air. He let out a pitiful whine, eyes pleading to be let down. “Guy… Guy, please….” He held out one hand, as though imploring Guy to come closer and take it, but it was only a distraction. Using the construct as a counterbalance, he swung up his legs in a powerful kick, catching Guy square in the chest.
Guy fell back, the powerful kick - could Dick really kick that powerfully? - sending him over the back of the couch, and sliding on his back across the floor to slam hard into the breakfast bar, head-first. It left a large, cracked dent in the veneer-covered plywood, and Guy wasted no time pulling himself up, stopping only for an instant when he saw the blood on the floor where his head had just been.
Reaching up he touched the back of his head, and his bare hand came away bloody. But how? His ring was shielding him…and then he remembered that first hit. What had he hit him with? No wonder he was seeing stars, he realized, as he staggered to a standing position, leaning on the counter. This wasn’t Dick. It couldn’t be.
“I don’t know who you are,” his uniform melted over his body, his ring sparking dangerously now, “But you just made your last mistake.”
A medieval flail formed in the Green Lantern’s hand, an oversized handle with a spiked sphere the size of a bowling ball hanging from the end by a chain. Guy swung the weapon at his attacker’s chest, but with impossible reflexes Dick caught it in his hands effortlessly.
With incredible speed, Dick yanked the flail hard, pulling Guy along with it. Guy managed to let go before his arm was wrenched from its socket, but his shoulder still throbbed from the strain. Dick charged him with a speed that Guy couldn’t have avoided if he hadn’t had his ring. He threw up an oversized spiked shield, flying away to give himself some room. Dick hit the shield full on, stumbling back from the force. He shook it off like it was nothing, turning his attention back to Guy.
“You’re just making it harder on yourself,” Dick said, “But at least it’s fun for me.” He grabbed one end of the couch and hurled it at Guy, charging at him again as it flew. Guy constructed a giant baseball bat, knocking the couch into Dick. With a mighty punch, Dick broke through the couch and launched himself at Guy. They were in hand-to-hand range now, and Dick was intent on keeping that range.
Desperately, Guy tried to block the incoming blows to his face, with little success. He was vaguely aware his ear hurt terribly, and the all-too-familiar taste of iron in his mouth was blood, not only running from his mouth, but also into it from several places on his face. It was getting difficult to see with any amount of focus as he returned blows with constructs and gloved fists to the seemingly made-of-brick Gotham vigilante before him.
He formed a power drill in hand, and tried to shove it into Dick’s shoulder. His eyes grew wide as the bit couldn’t penetrate his attacker’s skin, no matter how fast it spun or how sharply he refined the construct. A second later, hands that had minutes before been soothing away all his troubles were closed on his throat, squeezing the life from him even through his ring’s shield.
He realized, dazed, that he was suspended off the ground, not from his own flying, but the arms holding him up by his neck. Guy also realized he was choking. His shield was at full strength, and he couldn’t breathe.
He launched a flurry of blows in the seconds of lucidity he had left to him, striking his opponent’s midsection. Guy felt electricity shock through his knuckles on his ring hand, and he instinctively squeezed his eyes shut for a moment at the bright flash of light that followed. When he opened them, Dick was gone. In his place was a nightmare. Guy mouthed the name, no sound coming from his closed, airless throat: Kalibak.
“John…!” he tried to get a message out through his ring, but it was far too late now, as Guy Gardner’s world went black.
He opened the fridge as he tucked his bluetooth over his ear and kept talking as he grabbed himself a beer. “…An’ then we’ll come back here, slip in the hot tub…heh, yeah, we don’t have to worry about Ribbit starin’, either, I took her over to Hal’s place.”
Dick chuckled low, the sound going into a moan at the thought of the weekend with Guy. “That all sounds wonderful. How about a long weekend together, just you and me and everyone else can fend for themselves for a while? We can just talk and cuddle and play and… enjoy each other.”
He giggled to himself, glad Bette was taking long enough in the shower for him to talk to Guy. “I’m really sorry to change plans like this, Guy, but believe me, I’ll definitely make it up to you. Any way you’d like….”
“Dick…you don’t have to make anythin’ up to me. Besides, you’re bein’ a good friend right now. If ya weren’t capable of that, you an’ I wouldn’t be together in the first place.” Everyone in the entire League had heard of Bette Kane’s legendary crush on Dick, but from all he’d observed at the Halloween party and from what Dick had said, she was over it. But she was still as old and dear a friend to Dick as Ollie was to Guy, and Guy wasn’t going to begrudge Dick time with her. “You have fun skiing, Love. Don’t forget sunscreen.”
At that moment, he felt so close to Dick, even though he was three states away. “Dick?….You know I love you, right? I don’t want to even think what my life would be like without you.”
Dick curled up on the bed, hugging the pillow close as if it was Guy. “I do. I love you so much, Guy. I can’t even tell you how you’ve changed my life.” He paused, nibbling on his lip as he tried to think of what he wanted to say. “Guy? This weekend… I’ve got a lot of things to tell you. I can’t wait to see you. I love you.”
“I love you too, Amato. ‘Bye…”
Guy ended the call and tossed his phone down on the coffee table, and eased himself back in the armchair as he flicked on the TV. He tilted the bottle to his mouth and tried not to glance at the old brown ‘talking couch’, unoccupied now for almost two weeks. Thank God Kyle was returning soon.
This weekend was Dick’s, albeit starting a night late, and next week when he was ready, he’d reconnect with Kyle, here at home, and then head to Bludhaven for a little bit. Kyle was full of good ideas. Maybe he might pay Ollie a surprise visit next week, either at his place, or in his office on the Watchtower. And there was Kate, too…he hadn’t really talked to her in ages. Flowers weren’t enough. It was time to reconnect with her, too. And Hal. He should call Hal tomorrow and talk to him about seeing a movie. For that matter, maybe he should see if Hal wanted to catch a football game. Yes. It was definitely time to reconnect with Hal, too. A poker game wasn’t enough. They should do something, just him and Guy. For old times’ sake.
The noises and music from the bar downstairs drifted up, quite muffled, through the floor. Good, he thought, If I can hear it up here, it means a packed house down there. We could sure use the business.
He watched the news, finished another beer, and settled in to watch Die Hard. He was up to the part where he was saying Bruce Willis’ famous “Yippie-ki-yay” line along with him, when he heard steps on the stairs from the rooftop. He got up quickly, knocking over one of his empties as the handle on the door turned. Had he left it unlocked?
“…Kyle? That you?”
The door opened slowly, almost hesitantly, until there was enough space for the visitor to look into the room. “Guy? Hey.” Dick beamed from the doorway. “Sorry, Love. I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He walked in, smiling warmly at Guy, and shut the door firmly behind him.
“Dick?” Guy was surprised, certainly, but quite pleasantly. He quickly closed the distance and hugged him. “What are you doing here? I thought you and Bette were staying the night in Colorado?”
Dick hugged him back tightly. “Bette decided she better go back home. She was hurt more than she thought. I got her home and came to see you.” He pulled Guy into a passionate kiss and walked them over to the couch. “I’m very glad I did. I’ve missed you so much.”
“You really just made my whole night. Things have been pretty stressful, this ridiculous bunny business, and the mural… I’ve been sitting here trying to keep my mind off it…” he couldn’t let go of Dick, wanted nothing more than to be close to him. Something seemed off, though, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Everything okay, Dick?”
Dick pushed Guy onto the couch, straddling him, and kissed along his face. “It is now, Guy. I’m just… lonely.” He kept nuzzling Guy, slowly aware of a slight hesitancy from Guy. He sat back on Guy’s knees. “I’m sorry, Guy. I’m just…”
He trailed off, thinking over what Guy had said, and took Guy’s hands, running his thumbs over Guy’s fingers. “I’m so sorry about what happened. I just want to make you feel better.” He smiled shyly, squeezing Guy’s hands.
“Mmm, that sounds really good,” Guy smiled up at him, half-closing his eyes. “Anything…right now I’d take anything you have to offer to make me forget all this…” He craned his neck, and pressed his lips to his lover’s.
Dick smiled, rocking his hips against Guy’s. “I think I know just the thing….” He held Guy close, kissing him firmly as one hand stroked the back of Guy’s head. Dick’s fingers trailed lower, rubbing small circles down Guy’s neck. Soon, the hand had stopped petting Guy, but Dick still pressed himself against Guy, kissing him, rocking against him, moaning slightly. Suddenly, Dick’s grip tightened and a powerful fist came down hard on Guy’s neck.
Guy doubled forward with the impact, choking out a breath of air in surprise of the blow. He was seeing stars, and couldn’t focus. “Dihh…Dick?” he stammered, and brought up his hands defensively.
The bright, easy smile was still in place as Dick looked at him with what seemed like confusion. “Guy? It’s all right, darling. It’s all right.” With his last words, he punched Guy hard in the gut with more force than would be expected. As Guy again doubled forward, Dick followed with a strong right hook. He stood, giving himself more room to deliver the next blow.
Guy came up swinging, his shields now in place, though the damage had already been done; he was handicapped by a concussion and trying to breathe after the wind had been knocked out of him. The first blow could had been some terrible accident, but the punch to his solar plexus… this was an attack.
Dick Grayson, his lover, the person he’d allowed closer to his heart than anyone else, was attacking him. But still, Guy wasn’t going to try to reason this out. He was under attack. Period.
Hit back first, ask ‘what the fuck’ later.
An oversized construct hand lashed out, and curled its fingers around Dick’s throat, threatening to crush his windpipe as it lifted him off his feet. Slowly righting himself, his non-ring hand around his belly where Dick had punched him, he glared menacingly up at his attacker, then for a moment softened. This was Dick.
Dick clawed at the construct around him, legs flailing as he dangled in the air. He let out a pitiful whine, eyes pleading to be let down. “Guy… Guy, please….” He held out one hand, as though imploring Guy to come closer and take it, but it was only a distraction. Using the construct as a counterbalance, he swung up his legs in a powerful kick, catching Guy square in the chest.
Guy fell back, the powerful kick - could Dick really kick that powerfully? - sending him over the back of the couch, and sliding on his back across the floor to slam hard into the breakfast bar, head-first. It left a large, cracked dent in the veneer-covered plywood, and Guy wasted no time pulling himself up, stopping only for an instant when he saw the blood on the floor where his head had just been.
Reaching up he touched the back of his head, and his bare hand came away bloody. But how? His ring was shielding him…and then he remembered that first hit. What had he hit him with? No wonder he was seeing stars, he realized, as he staggered to a standing position, leaning on the counter. This wasn’t Dick. It couldn’t be.
“I don’t know who you are,” his uniform melted over his body, his ring sparking dangerously now, “But you just made your last mistake.”
A medieval flail formed in the Green Lantern’s hand, an oversized handle with a spiked sphere the size of a bowling ball hanging from the end by a chain. Guy swung the weapon at his attacker’s chest, but with impossible reflexes Dick caught it in his hands effortlessly.
With incredible speed, Dick yanked the flail hard, pulling Guy along with it. Guy managed to let go before his arm was wrenched from its socket, but his shoulder still throbbed from the strain. Dick charged him with a speed that Guy couldn’t have avoided if he hadn’t had his ring. He threw up an oversized spiked shield, flying away to give himself some room. Dick hit the shield full on, stumbling back from the force. He shook it off like it was nothing, turning his attention back to Guy.
“You’re just making it harder on yourself,” Dick said, “But at least it’s fun for me.” He grabbed one end of the couch and hurled it at Guy, charging at him again as it flew. Guy constructed a giant baseball bat, knocking the couch into Dick. With a mighty punch, Dick broke through the couch and launched himself at Guy. They were in hand-to-hand range now, and Dick was intent on keeping that range.
Desperately, Guy tried to block the incoming blows to his face, with little success. He was vaguely aware his ear hurt terribly, and the all-too-familiar taste of iron in his mouth was blood, not only running from his mouth, but also into it from several places on his face. It was getting difficult to see with any amount of focus as he returned blows with constructs and gloved fists to the seemingly made-of-brick Gotham vigilante before him.
He formed a power drill in hand, and tried to shove it into Dick’s shoulder. His eyes grew wide as the bit couldn’t penetrate his attacker’s skin, no matter how fast it spun or how sharply he refined the construct. A second later, hands that had minutes before been soothing away all his troubles were closed on his throat, squeezing the life from him even through his ring’s shield.
He realized, dazed, that he was suspended off the ground, not from his own flying, but the arms holding him up by his neck. Guy also realized he was choking. His shield was at full strength, and he couldn’t breathe.
He launched a flurry of blows in the seconds of lucidity he had left to him, striking his opponent’s midsection. Guy felt electricity shock through his knuckles on his ring hand, and he instinctively squeezed his eyes shut for a moment at the bright flash of light that followed. When he opened them, Dick was gone. In his place was a nightmare. Guy mouthed the name, no sound coming from his closed, airless throat: Kalibak.
“John…!” he tried to get a message out through his ring, but it was far too late now, as Guy Gardner’s world went black.