Title: Seven Nights in Paradise

Prologue: Too many sex commercials after nine for the house wife.

Roy sighed in annoyance and glanced at the clock.

Dick was overdue by three hours.

That didn't happen.

Dick was always on time.

Unless he'd gotten busy on patrol.

Roy glared at the TV, currently re-running a Trojan condom add.

Which was just what he needed to see right now.

He groaned and downed the rest of his beer.

He didn't know what was up with Dick these days, one minute he was there and fine and the next he was gone and…gone.

Hell, he didn't know what was up with them these days. This weird little relationship thing they had going. Hell, Dick was practically living with him now, despite the fact that technically he wasn't part of the Outsiders at the moment.

Another condom commercial and Roy glanced at his swelling crotch.

Bad enough that Dick walked around the apartment in his underwear but Roy hadn't gotten laid in like a week, because it was damn hard to get lucky and work it in around Dick's night owl schedule.

Couldn't have him walking in in the middle of it after all.

Roy got up and tossed his empty bottle in the garbage before grabbing another out of the fridge and checking the locks. He paused at the window, looking out into the darkness before heading back to the couch.

After a few minutes of Leave It To Beaver, he realized that he bore a strange resemblance to an 80's housewife waiting for her husband.

"Oh hell!"

Roy jumped off the couch and let out a string of curses in Navajo and then paused and thanked god, in Navajo that Lian was out with Ollie and Dinah and she didn't hear any of it, and then went back to cursing.

And kept cursing for a good half an hour before he remembered Dick was over due and what he was originally pissed about.

Which started a whole new round of cursing and ended with a hole in the wall.

"Call 1-800-SEXY now and you can have the time of your life-"


He hadn't gotten laid in a week goddammit! He didn't need this kind of frustration.



The red haired archer known now-a-days as Arsenal spun around to find Nightwing staring at him from the hallway.

"Dick! When did you get back?" God, tell me my voice did not just crack.

"Uh, just now, is something wrong?"

"Are we married?" Roy blurted out and then froze.

Nightwing blinked, "Um, wh-what?"

Dude, he just squeaked. Nightwing squeaked! Roy stared at him, eyes narrowed. Nightwing shifted foot to foot. "Well, I was just wondering, you know, 'cause you practically live here and I haven't got laid in a week man!"

"This is about sex?"

Now he sounded angry. Roy cursed, he didn't want him angry, he wanted him…well, naked.

Roy blinked. He did not just think that about his best friend.

That was just…you didn't go there about your best friend! Ever.

Even if you were practically an old married couple.


That had to make it an exception.


"We should fuck. Regularly."



"Roy, are you drunk?"

"I only had seven beers."


"I'm not drunk Wingster, I've just realized something."


"We're married."


"We're totally married, vato, it makes total sense."

"What makes sense?"

And his voice kept creeping higher and higher.


"I think you should sit down."

"I don't need to sit down, 'Wing. You need to listen. Last night you waited up for me, remember?"

"Yeah, but you were on patrol, I was waiting to see if you were injured or something."

"You made me dinner."

"You were hungry, and you've made me dinner before!"



"Look Dick, we're practically dating-"

"No! Look Roy, I appreciate everything you've done for me, but we're just friends."

"I could change your mind."


"Seven nights."

"What?" Dick sighed in exasperation.

"Seven nights, give me seven nights to change your mind."

"Seven nights is not going to change my mind Roy."

"I know you're attracted to me."

"How do you figure that?"

"Vato, we shower together, I know."

Dick swallowed. "That doesn't mean anything."

Roy raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not going to act on it…ever."

"Well I am. Seven nights, that's it."


"'Common Dick, it's just a week, if I can't change your mind we'll forget it ever happened."

"I'm seeing someone."

"You're fuck buddies with someone," Roy corrected.

Dick grimaced at the harsh language. Then frowned as he realized Roy wasn't going to back off. "Alright, seven nights, nights only though, and only after nine."

Nice try, Dickie boy. "Fine but you have to spend at least four hours a night with me.'

Dick's frown deepened and he hesitated. Roy flashed him his best grin. "Fine."

Roy cheered, making Dick eye him wearily and finger his gauntlet.

'Wing you ain't got no idea what you're in for!