title: Incidentals: Sweat
fandom: DC Comics
characters/pairings: Dick/omc, Tim
rating: Teen
warnings: suggested sexual content
summary: Dick loses himself in the moment.
notes: none


Pounding down, pushing in.


The music pumped hard, the industrial beat blending with the unearthly sweet voice. Bodies packed the floor, the club felt tight and hot despite it's warehouse-style design. Heat pouring from every square inch of exposed flesh.


Dick lost himself in the crowd. One body would push into his, and he would push back, until a ritual of foreplay could begin. Then another body would push into his, and a new dance would begin.

He had spent the day at the gym, the evening on the streets. The night was for getting lost in the heat of the music, the club, the bodies...

Sweat would wash away the tears under his skin.

One body pulled him close, hands running down his sides, mouth on his. It wasn't the best body in the club, but it was the first willing one to offer.


Awkwardness when they got back to his apartment, annoying social necessities that had to be attended to. Drinks were offered, jokes made about the cleanliness of the place, kisses were exchanged.


On the bed, now, naked, hot flesh, calling out the sweat like a siren to wayward sailors. He closed his eyes and lost himself, the pulse of the blood in his veins, the music of their breathing and gasping, the rhythm of their fucking.

The body he pumped into wasn't as strong as he was used to, it bruised easier. The face wasn't as angelic, the mouth, not as appealing.

The sensations mocked him as they mirrored those his lover would have inspired.

Gripping tightly until the body nearly screamed with pain and desire, he shut his eyes and lost himself.

Sweat, washing over him, cleaning him, leaving him empty.


Waking up next to a stranger.


Awkwardness again, as once again social necessities annoyed with their tediousness. Pulling on sweats and waiting for the body to retrieve underwear from behind the dresser. Offers of coffee, hoping the offer would be refused. At the door, saying goodbye, wishing he had done this last night. Why could he never seem to remember how much better this went if it was right after and not the next morning?

Watching the body move clumsily away, feeling trapped inside his skin. Needing to move, to get out. Watching as the body bumped into his friend on the stairwell.


Tim's bright eyes seemed a bit dim. His smile uncertain.


Dick was acutely aware that he was in need of a shower, that the apartment had the rank, decaying odor of spent passion.


"Thought you might wanna hang out and watch the Knights?" Tim's voice was usually brighter. Maybe he was the one who was less bright, less there.

Dick smiled back, not feeling it, wishing he could take back the last night, if only to avoid the embarrassment of having Tim squirming while pretending not to notice. Everything.

"Let me grab a quick shower. Call for pizza, here, use my card."

Tim grinned. "Hey, take your time. I'll take good care of your card. You have a fast modem, right?"

Quick swipe to the top of Tim's head missed, but his grin was back in full brilliance.

Dick went into the bathroom, feeling like rushing. Having Tim in the apartment made him feel like doing something other than sweat. Ripping off his sweats, he quickly brushed his teeth while setting up his razor.

He picked up the bottle of Atlantean shampoo that was still taking up a corner of his medicine cabinet. Without giving himself a chance to think about it, he tossed it in the trash.

He has to wash the sweat from his body, make himself presentable for an afternoon with Timmy.

(was inspired to write this while listening to Sarah McLachlan's remixed cd. in case anyone else wants to feel inspired! ^_^ )