Hi everyone, been a long time since I updated this one! This one isn't for Halloween (that one goes to Wendigo, which is posted separately and is a Dick/Tim brofluff-ish story), it's just a fun thing for me. The idea came from watching a video far too many times, and would not leave me alone until it got put down on paper. Definitely not my best, but hey. Not my worst either.
Nothing explicit, but it's probably a good PG-13. Faint undertones of male/male, but it really isn't slash. Just…well, I'll let you read.
Note: within the story, italics are singing/emphasis and possibly thoughts, bold is the Scarab speaking. There is a bit of "naughty" language at the very end.
Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom
Aka, Five Times the Team Refused to Ask, and One Time They Found Out Anyway
Part the First: Batgirl Does Not Wish to Know Her Boyfriend's Antics
Barbara Gordon knew a lot about Nightwing. She knew his real name was Richard Grayson, but he preferred to go by Dick. She knew he was the ward of Bruce Wayne. She knew he had been Batman's protégé since he was nine. She knew that he was her boyfriend.
But there were times when she absolutely did not know what her boyfriend was doing, and most of those, she found out anyway.
Like the time he had raced past her with a wide grin on his face. All he'd yelled was, "Hi, Babs!" as he slung around the halls of Wayne Manor in his socks. She had stared after him for a minute before Tim came around the corner, ready to commit murder. She'd shaken her head at his silent question, staring as he stalked down the halls after the wayward former Robin, very red hair waving in his anger.
Or the time when he had managed to get a hold of Roy's phone and had him call himself. Barbara really wasn't sure how that one had worked out.
But sometimes, she simply refused to ask, under pain of torture. This was one of those times.
As she walked through the hall past the rooms, she froze outside Dick's, listening to the arguments from within.
"No, that one doesn't do anything at all! We have to look appealing, not insane stalker!"
"Look, all I'm saying is that from my client's point, it won't matter what we look like, just that we get the target! And if that means insane stalker…"
"I'm not going out in that outfit!"
"I'm not making you!"
Like she said. Sometimes, she just didn't want to know what her boyfriend and one of his best friends were doing. She shook her head and disappeared down the hall.
Part the Second: Miss Martian is Traumatized
Even though she was going on seven years on Earth, M'gann still didn't understand a lot of Earth's culture. Sure, she'd immersed herself in it and understood everything important, but there was a lot of…what was it called, inundo? Innuendo? …that was over her head.
There was a lot she still wanted to know. Like why teenage boys ate like starving men, or how pop culture got popular.
But really, there was a whole lot more she just didn't want to know.
This was another of those times.
On her way to her room, she paused outside Nightwing's room. She could feel a subtle beat making the floor vibrate, and had she not been calming her thoughts she would have missed it. When she listened, she was sure she could also hear singing, so she stuck her head through the wall.
She immediately wished she hadn't.
Roy was in the room, just him. He had civvies on, but they weren't any civvies she had ever found to be deemed 'acceptable.' He was wearing a very, very thin white shirt that barely covered, and even then it was stretching on the biceps and triceps. A tight-looking pair of camouflage pants and his big, black, Red Arrow combat boots completed the look, and his back was to the door.
It wouldn't have been bad, except that he was also singing under his breath.
"Too sexy for my shirt, so sexy that it hurts. Oh, I'm sexy and I know it!" he sang, merging two different songs together and not seeming to care. As he sang, he slowly untucked the shirt in front of the mirror on the closet. M'gann watched for a moment as he slowly unbuttoned the shirt, then removed her head from the wall. She shivered in slight fear of what she had just witnessed.
"I don't want to know, I don't want to know, I don't want to know," she chanted, changing directions from her room to the cleaning supplies. If she couldn't find the so-called brain bleach, regular would have to do.
Part the Third: Blue Beetle is Also Traumatized
Jaime was many things. Crazy, sometimes (all right, maybe not only when the Scarab was acting up). Insane, well, depends what the Scarab was up to.
So most of his problems could be blamed on the Scarab. It was the stupid thing's fault anyway.
Nothing, however, could have prepared him for the conversation he overheard from Nightwing's room.
"Does this make my butt look big?"
Jaime recognized the voice of Roy, badass extraordinaire. Well, mostly. That one depended on what Wally and Nightwing had done to him recently. But that…well, the only thing that would've surprised Jaime more was…
"No, but my shirt's not tight enough." Nightwing's voice. Jaime fell over.
"Jaime Reyes, I am detecting activity within the room. I shall show you what is happening."
"No!" Jaime yelled, panicked. "I really don't want to know!"
"How will we protect ourselves if we do not know what is going on around us all the time?" the Scarab complained as Jaime scrambled away from the door.
"Trust me, some things are better left alone," he muttered, slamming the door to his own room.
Part the Fourth: Lagoon Boy is Confused Beyond All Reason
La'gaan had not been on the surface long enough to understand a lot of the cultural references.
His Angelfish didn't get a lot of them either, so it wasn't so bad, but most of the Team was human (or mostly human), so they got a lot of things that went over the others' heads.
One thing La'gaan did know, however, was strippers.
Not that he'd ever been near one, though! His King would be dishonored and, worse, his Angelfish would be disgusted with him. No, best to stay away from the strippers.
Especially the ones that seemed to have taken over his leader's room at the Mountain. Loud music, catcalls (at least, that's what he thought they were called), and dropped clothing leading to the zeta tubes were very big indicators.
No, it would be best not to get near that with a ten-foot pole. Or any pole, for that matter, not just a ten-foot one.
Maybe this would be something to ask his Angelfish about. Ten foot poles…
Part the Fifth: Robin Just Refuses to Ask Because He Does Not Need/Want to Know Ever
As a Bat, Tim was more in the loop on a lot of things. He knew what needed to be done and did it. No messing around for him.
That was Dick's job.
The former Robin hadn't grown as much as Tim was sure he'd like to. Tim was gaining steadily on him, and was almost taller than his honorary big brother. That was why Bruce still used Dick for the…er, decidedly feminine jobs. No matter how much he grew or put on muscle, the other boy could pass for a girl with the right makeup and outfit.
Now that was a scary thought.
Especially since (and here Tim shivered, remembering the incident in vivid detail) he'd been trying to hit on Dick once. In Tim's defense, though, he didn't know Dick was running an op in the same club, or that they were after the opposite of a partnership – Dick the guy, Tim the girl.
The whole thing still gave him nightmares.
This, though, was going into the 'never to be heard from again and forgotten until the end of time or when Tim needed blackmail material.'
"No, you can't use that for music! Do you even realize how cliché that is?!"
Wait, that was Wally's voice. Wasn't he retired from hero work? Tim moved closer to listen.
"Then what do you suggest?!"
"Something with a little class, man. Class!"
Roy's voice butted into the conversation. "West, do you have a song selection or not?!"
"But of course, my dear stripper, but of course. Listen."
The light, peppy beats of the drum set and guitar floated out to Tim's ears. He didn't recognize the song (he didn't listen to music much, anyway), but Dick said, "Hey, actually, that could work…"
Wally switched the music off, and Tim just knew there was a grin on his face. "Told you."
That was it. Tim didn't want to hear any more. Something with strippers and music was all he needed to know, and even that was too much.
Part the Sixth: The One Time (Almost All) of Them Found Out and Will Never Forget
"I can't believe we're doing this," Roy moaned. "This is ruining my manly image. I have a sorta-wife, and a daughter. I'm pretty sure this violates an unwritten law in there somewhere."
"Buck up, man, we're right here with you," Dick said, crossing his arms. He wasn't any happier; he was sure Bruce had told him he was finished working in the clubs. "And if my girlfriend ever finds out, which I'm sure she already knows anyway, I'm dead."
"Same," Wally said. "I can't believe I agreed to do this with you."
"You three are up next," the stage manager said, cutting into the conversation. "Get ready to go in just a minute. This one's short."
"Oh, goody," Wally muttered. The boys took off their jackets, took deep breaths, and, when the applause died away for the previous 'act', walked onto stage.
All right, walked was not a strong enough word. Moved sensually; strutted; all those would be more apt words to describe it.
The three made a triangle, Dick in front, and waited for the music to start. The beat started, and they began to dance.
Dick rotated his hips slowly as the female voice crooned the whoas. Behind him, Roy and Wally had moved together and were all but rubbing against each other. It was a testament to their bromance (Wally's words) that they weren't embarrassed about it.
Then came the refrain. It had taken several days of watching the moves carefully, but they managed to nail the choreographed moves from the music video. The three continued dancing for the remaining two minutes of the song, beginning with a slow strip of their clothes as the next whoa started up. First came the very tight white shirts, leaving them bare-chested and in the camouflaged army pants and boots. Dick even had an armband of (thankfully not live) ammo, much like the video did.
He pretended to nip at Roy's ear as the song finished, left only in the rather tight pants. His legs were straight out as he sat on Roy's back, bent over the redhead's head. Wally was on his knees in front, bent in a curve so he looked straight at Roy's groin while still looking at his face.
The applause was deafening, and the announcement came over that they were the final act of the evening, and all the dancers would be available in the back rooms. Dick sought out the target and watched her eye the three appealingly.
"Boys, I think we caught ourselves a cou…gar…" He trailed off, eyes widening as he caught the looks of Tim, Garfield, Jaime, Bart, and La'gaan. To his horror, Tim's phone was out.
"Fuck," he moaned, burying his face in Roy's bare shoulder as the taller, older teen carried him off-stage. "I'm screwed."
Trivia! What does the title signify/what is it? Bonus points if you name the creator(s)! There are plenty of hints for both, so it should be easy.
Reviews appreciated, as always. They make me smile every time I read one.