The Morning of the Date (Patreon)

After a long, romantic date, Arsenal found himself persuaded to stay over at Nightwing’s place. Nightwing had been so gentle throughout the evening—moving slowly, speaking softly—and it made Arsenal feel truly cared for. As the night settled in, they curled up together in bed, their bodies comfortably pressed against one another. The warmth between them grew, and eventually, sleep took them both.

The next morning, Arsenal awoke to the soft touch of Nightwing’s lips against his. He had imagined countless times what it might feel like to be kissed by him, but the reality was even more tender—warmer, deeper—than he could have ever expected.

They were still in their pajamas, but the atmosphere between them was charged. It was subtle, yet undeniable. Nightwing offered to give Arsenal a massage, and Arsenal agreed with a quiet nod. Nightwing moved over him, settling into a position that let Arsenal feel the full weight and presence of him—solid, steady, comforting.

His hands began to explore Arsenal’s back with slow, deliberate care, working like a trained masseur. Then, with a low voice, he whispered, “It’ll be more effective this way. Trust me,” as he gently slid down the waistband of Arsenal’s pajamas. Arsenal didn’t hesitate; he nodded again, a sign of trust and understanding.

Nightwing’s hands glided across bare skin now, discovering every detail, every reaction. He leaned in closer, his body aligned with Arsenal’s in a way that sent a quiet shiver down Arsenal’s spine. Then, with a teasing warmth, Nightwing pressed himself closer and asked, “Is this too fast?”

Arsenal’s reply was calm and sure: “No, it’s fine.”

Relieved and emboldened, Nightwing whispered against his ear, “I’m glad to hear that... because you drive me crazy. Your scent, your face—everything about you—it just makes me want to touch you, all the time.”

A moment of silence followed. Five long seconds that made Nightwing briefly wonder if he’d said too much. Did I scare him? he thought.

But then Arsenal’s voice broke the quiet. “You make me feel the same way.”

Nightwing smiled, deeply moved. He leaned in once more, this time with even more care, guiding them into something deeper—slowly, gently, and with complete attention to Arsenal’s comfort.