Steady On Forward

A/N:

WARNING Chapter Contains: Explicit Sexual Content 

As previously mentioned, you can skip from the ❥ to the ❥‖ to avoid the explicit section if you wish.

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Dick sat on the floor of the shower several nights later, too exhausted to stand for any extended period of time, and blinking back the tears welling in his eyes as the water beat down on him.

Tears of frustration, mostly, and a little bit of pain at this point.

He had gone through this before, years ago, after the whole thing with Tarantula had happened, but he couldn't for the life of him remember how he'd gotten over it.

And right now he felt like he just wanted to scream.

He was incredibly sexually frustrated, but he still hadn't figured out how to make things work with Jason without panicking before they even started.

And with himself, he couldn't manage to stay aroused long enough to just finish already, and it was quite honestly becoming painful.

It probably didn't help that he wasn't even into it, he just desperately wanted it to be over with already, but he just couldn't ⁠— and at this point he was getting pretty close to just going into the kitchen and shattering every single dish they owned just to try and relieve a little bit of the stress.

Fuck. He took his hand off of himself, giving up as, once again, his body, which had been heading toward an erection, seemed to change its mind.

He rested his forehead on the edge of the bathtub, staring down at his hands. The fact that he had to see the ugly, yellowing bruises on his wrists from where...she had disarmed him every time he looked down probably wasn't helping either.

But he tried to ignore those thoughts the most, pushing them away into a locked drawer in an empty corner of his mind. It was, unfortunately, better to wallow in the frustration.

Dick concentrated on the cool porcelain against his face and closed his eyes. He was not going to cry over this.

But, shit, he really wanted to.

After a few deep breaths, Dick levered himself up off the floor, and turned the water off.

He stepped out of the shower, towelling off, and pulling on a loose t-shirt and sleep pants ⁠— and ow, fuck, even that hurt. He was sore as hell and hadn't even managed to get off, god.

He leaned heavily on the sink, avoiding looking at his reflection in the mirror. If his body would just cooperate...

He hesitantly touched himself again through the soft fabric of his pants, and...was entirely unresponsive. He wrenched his hand away with an angry sigh, and practically ripped the door open, storming out of the bathroom.

Dick flung himself into one of the chairs at their dining table, laying his face down against the cool wood with his arms stretched out above his head, palms flat on the table.

"Babydoll?" he heard Jason ask from the kitchen, where he was likely drinking his nighttime cup of tea.

Dick heard his quiet footsteps come around the corner, and stop in front of the table. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Dick mumbled into the table. "I just need a few minutes before I come to bed."

"Okay." Jason retreated back into the kitchen, clearly taking the hint that Dick wanted to be left alone.