#cause I can't bounce between scripts that easy

[bibiana112]

Everyone's always so mad over unsolicited criticism but you know what makes me furious? Unsolicited comfort. Me simply not expressing myself the same way as you is not a sign that I'm depressed and in desperate need for you to come to my rescue, it is not an invitation for you to act like my one pillar of reliability or to act like my friend when you do not know my life, do not know wether I do have support, do not know I chose to be in this position you feel so uncomfortable looking at and on god you just don't get to pity me for living my fucking life the way I want to

[moonfox281]

what if... what if dick did cross dressing?? also your mob wife au is rlly good moonie!

"This is kinda weird."

Dick lifted up the hem of the dress and complained. On the other side of the room, Jason and his boys with their phones up, recording with solemn faces.

"You guys are enjoying this."

"What? No, this is for the report. Hurry up and put the garters on."

Dick got the garters in the air and stared. Laces. For the mission. For the goddamn mission. He thought so as he put them on, trying not to punch anyone in the room as Jason and his men balled their eyes out oggling at his bare thigh under the hiked-up maid dress and apron.

"It's itchy."

"Is it?" Jason hadn't got the phone off his face since he started changing and he was seriously getting under Dick's nerve.

"Why am I the one who does this again?"

"' 'cause he's got the legs for it?" whispered somebody in Jason's stupid arm unit. It wasn't intentional for Dick to hear but what do you know, he got the ears for shit like this.

One night, a luxury strip club, two targets in a roll. It would have been an easy stake out, a run in and out, easy and fast, standard undercover. Well, that was... until the maid dress was included.

The club ran theme nights every weekend. It was Sunday, guess people were feeling fancy.

"This is hard to fight in." Dick did a couple of twirls. The dress sure was goddamn blowy, it bounced like clouds.

"Try a high kick." Jason asked.

Dick turned on his heels and threw up his legs. The dress flew, in the room full of men, somebody squealed.

"Listen-"

"Try another one."

"Your nose is bleeding."

God knew what was going through Jason's head right now.

The plan was to get in, play it out until Dick got the needed info on the next drop of shipment, a confession at best. A standard night out, like usual. Jason already got his connection and maskless alias as the current owner of the Iceberg Lounge; Trevor would be his usual handyman; and Dick would be his new boy toy.

It was funny how Dick was always the boy toy in an undercover mission.

"So, how exactly is the script gonna roll?"

Jason finally put away his phone and got serious. "Simple, you distract him."

"I can do that." Dick clicked his tongue, swayed back and forth in his dress.

"But not too distracted."

"What do you mean?"

"It means there will be limits on what you can do to keep the man entertained."

"It's a strip club. People know exactly how they want to be entertained there."

"Well too bad we can't always get what we want, is it?"

When mommy and daddy fought, all the kids knew their places. The goons scattered out and quickly disappeared behind closed doors. Jason put his phone down and did that thing with his head. The "I'm not pleased and you should know it" chin tilted, shoulder flexed.

"Let's play this out, shall we? I'm the big bad man whose ship is filled with 60 people waiting to cross borders to highest bidders. You're the only person capable of getting close range with me, real close."

Dick walked over, clicking heels. Yeah, heels. Judgment aside, ladies got a real weapon here. One kick and they could likely pop an eye.

He pushed Jason down his recliner and crawled up and over his laps, playing with his tie.

"Men are simple. Hard as rock..." He weighted hard down Jason, rolled, and watched the crease between his brows deepened. "But not breakable."

"I'll be bringing friends."

"That means you'll be talking." Dick let go of Jason's tie and got up on his knees. "You like to flex it. You like an audience."

He hooked a finger on a belt loop, tugging. Jason positioned himself back and forth, seemingly uncomfortable with how things moved so far.

"Bringing partners, talking business in a private strip club. I'll be thinking with my dick before I let a word slip."

"Everything is about sex, except sex. Sex is about power. You'll talk. You'll like me listening."

"You sound so sure."

Dick snorted, "You've done this countless times before, all those business trips, private meetings of yours. You know what's in their heads, your partners, your guests. You know what's on your mind in places like this, moments like this."

"Oh I know." His arms got up and hugged around Dick's legs. Even for his big body, Jason yearned his neck just so their eyes could meet. "I always know what's the only thing in my mind."

Just like that, Dick knew Jason was no longer in his character. The curtain had dropped, lights off. Their play had come to an end.

"Even in moments like this?"

"In every moment of my life."

The way those eyes pinned on Dick, yearning, longing... Jason was many things of a man with his power, status and fortune, but the way he looked at Dick, only at Dick, turned him vulnerable.

It was little things like this, things he did, things he said, that got Dick's heart beating like the first blooming days.

He got off the recliner, pulled Jason along by his collar and moved them toward the long couch in the end corner of his office.

"Is this part of the script too?" Jason laughed when Dick ripped his shirt open and hiked up the maid dress.

"No."

Jason smirked and unbuckled his belt. They both knew they would be late at this point.

The mission would be damned, but they were both laughing.