During the past four years, Barbara had spent most of her nights lurking on the rooftops of Gotham City; perched on fire escapes, listening over alleyways for any sign of criminal activity. A high percentage of said nights were dull when the city's nightlife was tucked away; even the drunk assholes outside clubs were uncharacteristically gentlemanly. No one to reprimand or deal out her own form of justice. The only thing keeping her awake aside from the coffee she would down quickly before suiting up, was Nightwing making quips in her ear for hours on end.
Grayson had made her first two years after joining the team comfortable by showing her the ropes during patrol nights; key hot spots for meet-ups, which clubs where owned by which mob bosses, which bodegas were "protected" by GCPD cops. Barbara knew it would be an especially enjoyable evening when she heard his voice crackle over the comm system. Solo nights were getting to her. She missed his lighthearted chuckle in her ear and the reliability that he wasn't too far away.
Last night was the second time she'd seen him masked in ten months. Yet still she felt in sync with him tonight as they climbed the stairs of the frat house to the second floor. Her fingers still entwined in his, she felt a pang of disappointment when he let go of her grasp. The music was quieter up here, more muffled, yet she could feel the bass still vibrating her ribcage. They were seemingly alone, but the two kept quiet. Grayson signalled he would take the far three rooms by holding up three fingers, waving them to the back of the hallway. Switching to two fingers, he motioned to the two front rooms by the staircase landing. Barbara nodded once and headed towards her targets. It was a relief to know they could still communicate in silence.
Barbara opened the first door to her left. She wasn't sure what to expect. Maybe an unmade bed, computer desk stacked high with opened textbooks and papers filling the garbage can. For some reason she thought the blinds would be askew. To her surprise, the room was immaculate. Possibly too clean to be part of a frat house. For a brief moment she thought she stepped through a pocket dimension, but shook her head at her own nonsense and started to search the room. The desk had a laptop opened, so she swiped a finger across the trackpad, stirring it awake. While she waited, she sifted through a tidy stack of papers, seemingly in the process of being graded, with notations in the same lazy scrawl on every page. Teacher's Assistant, most likely. She opened the top drawer to find four highlighters, all different colours, five red pens, and a stack of neon post-it notes. She glanced up at the now attentive computer screen, searching the desktop for any incriminating folders, not quite sure what she would find. Drug Dealer Shit, something like that. To her disappointment, on the top right corner read "Scott's Laptop" on the taskbar. Not Greg. Giving one last glance around the room, she gave up and delicately shut the door behind her as she walked back into the hallway. Her next room turned out to be a very small bathroom. Hopefully Grayson has found Greg's room by now. She walked down the hall and poked her head through the single ajar door. A hand wrapped around her elbow, skirting her further into the room, nearly lifting her off her feet. She stumbled to the left of the door, into a smaller, nearly black room, full of clothes. A closet. Great detective skills Gordon, dad would be proud. She mentally face palmed herself, while realizing Grayson was the one who had pulled her in to the closet.
"What's up?" She whispered casually, as if she bumped in to him at a farmer's market rather than in a stranger's bedroom.
"Heard voices in the next room. Laying low for a second," his hand was still on her elbow. There wasn't much breathing room in the minimal space, her back was already pressed against a wall and Grayson's chest was only a few inches away from her own.
"So you hid in a closet?" Barbara teased. It was taking her eyes a bit longer than usual to adjust to the dimness, yet she could still sense Grayson shooting her a look that conveyed he, obviously, made the right move and she needed to be quiet.
"Shh," was the only retort he gave her. As the two stood inches apart in the black, Barbara felt her breath start to quicken against her better judgement. She hadn't been this close to him in quite some time. She dove deep in to his sweet, smokey scent with every breath she took. She could hear her heart beating faster. Her cheeks flushed at the thought that he, too, would be able to hear her rapid pulse in the quiet. She felt his hand tighten on her elbow, which caused her to involuntarily stretch out her hand, at the perfect height to reach out and graze his stomach. Even though he was wearing multiple layers, she felt his muscles tense under her fingertips. He looked down at her, curious why she was so focussed on caressing his stomach. Her gaze was lowered; he only saw her red hair, draping over her shoulders. With his free hand he brushed her hair behind her ear, causing her attention to be drawn upwards, now staring into his eyes. He could always see fairly well in the dark. So well he saw freckles speckled over her cheekbones, the redness of her natural lips, the soft, greeny yellow in her eyes.
Fuck it, he thought and he lowered his head down to meet their lips together.
Barbara let in a sharp intake of air through her nose, delightfully surprised by her friend's impulse to kiss her. She pushed her hand further into his stomach, not to push him away, but to feel closer to him. She moved half a step closer, pressing her legs against his. She felt his hand travel up her spine, cupping the back of her head as he twirled her hair around his fingers. His lips were softer than she imagined. And yes, she had imagined them quite a bit over the years.
Grayson moved his body closer to hers, pulling her in tighter. Part of him knew he needed to stop. The other part reprimanded him for not doing this every day. His wrestling dichotomy was moot when she pulled her lips away, arching her head back in an effort to split their bodies apart long enough to come to their senses.
"Wait, Grayson," Barbara sighed quietly. "We can't do this right now."
"Right." Why are you agreeing? Kiss her again, you fool. His inner voice threatened him, but he forced his hands to separate from her warm body. She stepped out of the closet, into the much larger, empty room.
"Did you find out who's room this is?" She scanned the room quickly as Grayson stepped out of the closet, making his way towards a laptop on the bed.
"Oh yeah. It's Greg's room," he casually bent down to remove a thick flash drive out of the laptop.
"I copied his hard drive," Grayson tossed the flash drive at Barbara who caught it with one hand.
"Why didn't you just tell me when you pulled me in here?"
"I had to wait for the hard drive to download. Couldn't think of a better way to waste time." He smiled in her direction as he walked out to the hallway. Barbara jogged slightly to catch up to him. Both walked casually down the stairs, simultaneously blending in with unsuspecting partygoers. Barbara tucked the flash drive into the strap of her bra as Frankie waved her down from the centre of a group of boys, clinging to her every word. Barbara joined the group as Grayson vanished through the front door into the cool night air, walking by a six foot two bro bending over, puking in the bushes. Checking his watch, reading 9:52pm, Grayson smiled to himself. Two wins tonight.