CHAPTER 17
THE FIRE

WARNING: LIGHT MATURE
SCENES AHEAD

THEY took a cab back to Dick's building. Both were obviously too intoxicated to get behind the wheel, and he assured Iris that he'd find a way to pick up his Porsche in the morning. Dick and Iris sat on the two opposite ends of the back seat, afraid that the alcohol running through their veins would let them get too close again, but their cab driver had somewhat of a different idea. Throughout the whole twenty-dollar ride, he blasted Marvin Gaye's Let's Get It On at full volume, as if everyone in that tiny car was deaf in both ears. Dick and Iris shared a look of unease.

After plopping a thin, twenty-dollar bill into the driver's hand, Iris made sure to look at the front of his car as she slid out. No turquoise beads heading from his mirror. No weird symbols. She was clearly drunk and worrying herself over nothing, but Iris couldn't shake the weird feeling she got when she noticed the driver staring at her as she walked away. It was stupid. She was being stupid.

They both hardly had any balance while riding the elevator up to Dick's apartment. Iris clutched the side railing, and it felt like every cell in her body was rising as the elevator flew up to the eighth floor. Dick held onto her shoulders when the elevator came to a sudden halt. However, Dick still needed a little help himself, and Iris wound her arms tightly around his own shoulders as they stumbled down the corridor to his apartment.

Why did she assume that this would be a good idea in the first place? Going out with your coworker ... dancing with him ... almost locking lips ... It was a recipe for disaster and she was dumb enough to fall for it!

But still ... it felt nice to let loose. She needed to allow herself that once in a while.

"I'm starving," she announced, staggering into his apartment first. Iris sprinted forward and into the kitchen, whipping his cabinets open for something to eat. "Don't you eat anything with a high amount of salt?"

Dick slammed his front door shut and leaned against it, trying to catch his breath. Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he muttered, "I try not to. It's not good for my diet."

"Okay, Mr. Weight Watchers," she snickered, digging through the contents of the last cabinet. "I just want something with –" She paused. Finally, way in the back, she found a bag of potato chips.

"Oh. My. God," she breathed, plucking the large, family size bag out and closing the cabinet. Dick looked up and noticed she was holding it out as if she was imitating that scene from the Lion King. "It's the messiah, Dick."

He raised a brow. "I'm pretty sure that's just a bag of chips."

"Well, it's special to me."

Iris ripped open the bag and plunge her hand in, stuffing her face with handfuls of the salty goodness. She sat on top of the counter for what felt like forever, eating more and more chips until her stomach felt like it was going to rot. Dick simply watched from the doorway, hardly able to move. He was afraid that he would fall right in front of her if he did.

She ate more than half the bag when she finally set it to the side. Sliding off the counter, Iris rubbed at her forehead and muttered, "I think I need to go to bed."

"I think I do too," Dick replied.

Iris padded over to where he still stood, swaying from side to side, and held out her arm. "Let's help each other get there," she offered.

After a moment of hesitation, Dick fell into her hold gratefully. They walked down the long hallway to the master bedroom. Dick stumbled a few times along the way, which was exactly what he was afraid of, but Iris didn't seem to notice. They carried each other, walking a step at a time, and held onto the other as if their lives depended on it.

"I didn't realize how long this walk would be," Iris mumbled under her breath. Dick laughed in her ear, causing a light pink to flush across her cheeks.

As they finally hobbled into the master bedroom, Iris could've sworn she saw some kind of bright light guiding the way. Not a you're gonna die bright light, but the kind of light that told you, Finally. You are home. Using all the strength left in her body, Iris lifted Dick onto the far side of the bed and ended up flopping herself right next to him.

They held onto one another for hours, falling asleep to each other's heartbeats once again. It was becoming their very own bad habit. Just as bad as her cigarette addiction.

The alarm clock flashed the numbers 2:56 in a bright red when her eyes finally fluttered open, and for the second time ever, Iris found herself alone in Dick Grayson's bed. She sat up against the pillow and ran a hand through her unwashed hair. An aching pain emerged in the middle of her temples, a subtle throb to remind her of the upcoming hangover that would soon overcome her in just a mere couple of hours. Iris placed her feet on the ground and began to walk to the master bathroom.

The reflection she saw in the mirror was absolutely terrifying. Yesterday's mascara was smudged around her eyes. Her brows looked wild and uncombed. Don't even get Iris started on her hair. With a low groan, she grabbed the face cloth hanging on the side of the sink and ran it under hot water. She brought it to her eyes, washing the dried mascara away, before using the ponytail on her wrist to tie her tangled hair back.

Iris felt a chill run through her as she walked out of the bathroom. Her jacket dangled off the edge of the bed. She didn't know when she had taken it off before going to sleep, but apparently, that happened. Spotting a bathrobe hanging on the door, Iris took it off the hook and slid the warm material on her body.

The whole apartment was eerily quiet as she walked down the long corridor. To be fair, it was in the early hours of the morning. But it was so quiet that Iris was surprised to find Dick leaning against the kitchen island, nursing a bottle of rum in his hands. The single light above his head swung from side to side. Iris moved closer to the kitchen, causing Dick to lift his head.

"Is that my bathrobe?"

Iris did a small twirl. "I thought it looked better on me."

He laughed, and she couldn't stop her lips from curling at the sound of it. Dick took another swig of the bottle as Iris stood beside him, placing her elbows on the counter and leaning into it as he did. "You're going to drink that whole thing on your own?" She asked, arching a brow.

Dick shrugged. "Thought about it. Now that you're here, I guess not."

"Surprisingly, I've never been a fan of late-night drinking. Late-night snacking is a completely different story, though."

He chuckled before exhaling deeply and gripping both sides of his forehead. Dick rubbed at his temples in circles. "I can already feel the hangover coming on. My guardian once told me the best way to make one go away is –"

"To drink more," she finished, and his stare flickered over to her. Iris scratched the back of her head. "My dad used to say the same thing."

"Did he mean a lot to you? Your dad?"

She licked at the corners of her dry lips.

"It's just ..." Dick continued on quickly, trying to save himself. "You've never really talked about your family with me –"

"I care about my family, obviously," she replied, and then paused. Iris hugged her arms around herself. "But – um ... my dad. He died a few years ago – when I was twenty-three – and after that, I just needed ... to get away, I guess. And that's how I ended up in Detroit." Her shoulders slumped. "Detroit had ... new opportunities, an escape route –"

Dick snickered, "And pollution."

"Alright, that's it." She seized the bottle sitting idly in front of him and took a large gulp, wiping the corners of her mouth as it burned down her throat. "I told you my secret. You tell me one of yours."

"How about we make it interesting?" He asked, snatching the bottle back. "I tell you a secret. You guess if it's true or false. If you're right, I drink. And then it's your turn."

Iris smirked. "Fine. You're on."

"Okay ..." Dick popped the cap off and swirled the bottle around. He tilted his head to the side, trying to come up with something. Eventually, he pointed a finger in her direction. "I totally wanted a cape when I first got the Robin suit."

She furrowed her brow. "Obviously, not. False. Capes are lame."

He smirked the tiniest bit, hesitating before sliding the bottle across the kitchen island. She caught it quickly. "Wrong. I was a kid when I got the suit. Of course, I wanted a cape. I could do without it now."

"Fair enough," she said, looking down at the contents of the bottle. It was half-full. "Um ... I always wanted to be a detective."

"False."

"You answered that rather quickly. How do you know?"

Dick shrugged. "I just know."

Iris hesitated, narrowing her eyes in his direction, before bringing the bottle up to her lips and taking a sip. Dick threw his hands up in victory. "Hey, hey! Don't get cocky. You're only right because I did first want to be a chef up until I was twelve and I almost set my kitchen on fire. After that, I became obsessed with the Nancy Drew books and knew I wanted to be a detective."

"I'm still right, though!" He grinned.

She only rolled her eyes.

"Hmm ..." Dick tapped against the marble counter. "I absolutely love pineapple, but I can't stand it on pizza."

Iris paused, resting her chin in her hands. "True."

He smiled and took a large gulp, wincing as the rum slid down his throat. "Did I tell you that before?"

"No," she argued, "only idiots don't like pineapple on pizza."

He feigned a shocked expression while handing her the bottle. Iris giggled under her breath. "Let's see ... I ... I watch a rerun of Friends almost every night."

"False. A person can't watch Friends that much."

She passed him the bottle. "You gotta listen closely, Bird Boy. I said, 'Almost every night.' Sometimes I like to mix it up with some Full House."

"I guess you can't go wrong with that," he replied, sliding a bit closer to her. The bottle rested in the middle of them, and Iris swallowed hard at the close proximity between them. "I was never allowed to drive the Batmobile."

"Has to be false. That's just cruel."

Dick shook his head, and Iris' mouth fell open. "Wow," she said, "what an asshole."

Iris reached out to clasp her hand around the neck of the bottle, but Dick beat her to it. He placed his hand on the top and brought it closer to him. "My turn again."

"Hey! That's against the rules."

"Technically, we didn't establish any rules.

Iris lifted a brow, but eventually gave up. She stood up straight and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for him to open his pretty lips once again.

Her conscious groaned inside of her head: Can you please stop thinking about his –

"I got one," he said, his shoulder brushing against hers. His scent began to surround her, and Iris didn't feel like taking a step back. She swallowed down the bile rising in her throat when he tapped a finger against her chest. "You ... have a crush on me."

It felt like he had knocked the wind out of her. Iris stopped breathing, pursing her lips as he waited for an answer. Her knuckles went white as they locked around her own arms. "You ..." She shook her head. "You can't make the secret about the other person. It has to be about yourself."

"No rules," he reminded.

Iris cleared her throat, quickly latching her fingers onto the bottle once again. "I pass. You know, since there are no rules."

He grinned slightly and gestured for her to go on. His hand lingered on the edge of the counter, just a few inches from her own. Iris held her breath, afraid of the words that threatened to fall off her tongue. She was going to combust if she didn't say them. Last thing she wanted was for him to clean Iris Kingsley bits off his floor.

"You like me –" She paused, inhaling heavily. "– More than just a coworker."

Dick placed his hand on top of hers, curling his fingers around the bottle's neck, and took in a large gulp of the burning rum. He didn't have to say the answer. She didn't even need a hint. Iris already knew. True.

"We stood in your kitchen a few weeks ago," he moved closer, invading her space, "just like this." The bottle slid against the marble and landed right near her hand. "You wanted to kiss me, but you were scared."

Iris closed her eyes for a second, sucking in a breath of air through her teeth, and tried her damnedest to ignore the fact that she could hear his heartbeat in the stillness of that moment. Slowly, she fluttered her eyes back open, and locked her fingers on the bottle. Iris gulped and leaned away, taking a long swig from the rum, eyes never leaving his.

Dick didn't need a verbal answer either. True.

He took the rum from her hands and set it on the counter. Iris didn't even have a moment to breathe, because he was leaning in more, caressing her cheek with one hand. He used the other to bring her closer by the small of her back and Iris, truthfully, didn't have the strength to move away. His breath fanned her cheeks, causing goosebumps to erupt over her entire body. Her leg curled around his; her hands found his hair, and all she wanted was to take in the scent of alcohol that lingered on his mouth forever.

"I'm afraid I might actually like you, Dick Grayson," she whispered against his lips, "and that might really fuck everything up."

His eyes lifted, burning into her own. "I'm okay with that."

With a devilish smirk, his lips captured her own, and Iris felt every butterfly inside her body burst. She had never allowed herself to be so unarmed or out of control, but when his mouth touched her own, all she ever wanted was to be held in his arms, letting his warmth envelop her. She pressed her chest against his and felt his heartbeat through his t-shirt, thumping like a drum. Her necklace felt so heavy and pulsated a bright, blue light each time he touched her. Iris could smell the musk on his collar, but it was only when his tongue entered her mouth that she was able to fully divulge in every part of him, tasting the fiery rum that still remained on his lips.

Dick's mouth suddenly left her own, placing sloppy, wet kisses against her cheek, before sliding a leg in between her thighs. His lips ghosted across her jaw and marked every inch of her exposed skin. Iris instinctively grinded against his thigh, begging for more friction – the kind of friction she so rarely got. Suddenly, she felt his bulge press into her heat, but that only made her want him closer. She wanted to lower her hands, to help him remove his pants, but it seemed that he had other plans.

Iris felt like she was left out in the cold when his lips left her neck. She opened her eyes — which were now shining a vivid turquoise color — and looked down to see Dick on his knees, playing with the zipper on the jeans she so gracefully decided to sleep in. Her palms flickered with light, but they did not persist, refusing to burn him with a simple touch. Dick viewed up at her with his big, caramel-colored irises, stare full of lust and passion, and everything in between. He stopped, tracing circles into her hips, and asked, "Is it okay if I ..."

He was asking permission. Iris swallowed hard, not knowing what to think. To be honest, she never thought they would get to this point. She had never been too fond of sex, always waiting for it to be with a person she truly cared about. She regretted one night stands more than the average person – when she had them, that is.

But something about this ... it felt right. It didn't feel regrettable. Maybe it was the rum running through her veins. Maybe it was the hangover that was surfacing against her skull. But Iris Kingsley wanted to be completely and absolutely consumed by Dick Grayson.

With a soft smile, she nodded. Dick didn't waste any time. He unzipped her jeans, shucking all those layers down to her ankles so she could kick them away. His mouth grazed her waist, and his hot breath against her skin made every hair on her body stand up. But when his tongue finally entered her, that was another feeling entirely.

Finally, Iris Kingsley knew what it felt like to be devoured by a fire, and she was afraid that she'd never want to escape.

•••

A/N: dick grayson says consent is SO SEXY

SURPRISE!!!! y'all were so excited for the next chapter so I thought it would be a nice treat to update again this week! I've had this prewritten for a while anyways, and it just so happens to be one of the most important chapters in the book 🥴

I did a poll on my instagram story a while ago about if there should be smut in this story or not, and sure enough, smut won. y'all are some horny bastards 😔 but I wouldn't want it any other way!!! I did want to do full-on smut, but the chapter was getting so long and writing out highly detailed smut after their conversation just seemed like it ruined the moment. so I faded to black 🤡 sorry, but it just made More Sense

one last thing — I just wanted to put out there that some awesome people have made some really beautiful graphics for this story and I've placed new pieces into the graphic gallery. if you haven't checked that out for a while, I highly encourage you to! thank you again to all those that take the time to make art for this little story and continue to support me. it means so much!!! 💞