pillow talk

by 429_CarCrash

Summary:

Whatever this thing is Roy's got with Frank is casual, on purpose. But he's nosy and he's got questions, so that might... change. Just a little bit.

Notes:

• For veryrach.

Roy didn’t know what Frank’s deal was.

Well.

He knew part of it, due to the nature of the support group they’d met at in the first place. Or, he assumed he knew part of it, because Frank had never actually spoken about his loss, just sat there and listened to the rest of them.

He wasn’t the only one who did that though—hell Roy hadn’t spoken for the first six months or so either, not while the grief was still so fresh—so Roy just assumed he wasn’t ready. Which was fine. Everyone moved at their own pace.

But he’d seen Frank out and about one day when he was running errands and took the opportunity to just chat a little bit and-

Okay, Roy was self-aware enough to know that while he wasn’t specifically flirting with the guy, he wasn’t not flirting with the guy either.

Plausible deniability and all that but Frank had seemed receptive enough and they started talking and one thing led to another and now… well Roy wouldn’t exactly say they’re dating but they meet up regularly to hang out or to fuck and it’s… nice. Casual. Low expectations, and Roy didn’t necessarily want anything more than that.

But he was starting to get a little worried and he wasn’t sure whether whatever they had going on was enough to bring up the fact that Frank had fresh new injuries every time they met.

And it was every time, not just occasionally, and not even just minor cuts and scrapes and bruises that you might get from being clumsy. Not that Frank was clumsy anyway.

Roy worried and he hesitated and he worried and he hesitated and then there was what was obviously a stitched up bullet wound and he couldn’t keep silent anymore.

“What happened here?” he asked quietly, brushing the healing wound gently with his fingers.

Frank flinched slightly under the touch and drew away from him.

“It’s nothing,” he rumbled.

“Bullshit, Frank.” Roy kept his voice soft but firm. “That’s a bullet wound. Who’s been shooting at you?”

Frank met his eyes, obviously surprised.

“Why do you know what a bullet wound looks like?”

Roy blinked at him.

“I just do? I’ve seen one before?”

Frank was still staring at him. Was that a weird thing to know? It wasn’t like Roy’s life had ever been normal, so he didn’t know.

“There’s a lotta shitty people out there,” Frank said finally. “Someone’s gotta deal with ‘em, might as well be me.”

That… did track with what Roy knew of Frank, actually. Self-appointed avenging angel. Or devil, as it might be.

“Well, I can hold my own in a fight,” Roy offered with a lopsided grin, “So if you’re sick of getting shot at by yourself and need back up, you just let me know, Frank.”

Frank’s eyebrows flew up his forehead before settling back down into their normal, slightly pinched together location.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 22 of DC-Marvel 48h Exchange Fics