Urrgh, attack of the random plot bunnies. My mortal enemies.

Anyways, I watched the Blind Side for the first time a while back. At first I was like, 'Pft. Another football movie? I detest sports!' Then I actually sat down and watched. O_O And it was so heart-wrenchingly good!

That's where the plot bunnies came in. Doesn't the quiet and protective brute Mike Soher seem like the perfect match for AU Superboy? Hello, Megan!

Plus, this pairing needs more AU love, or more fic love in general! And, I had the urge to do an AU in this fandom! So enough explaining, let's get on with the show, shall we?

The sun had already partially disappeared under the horizon by the time Dick finished with gymnastics practice. He entered the sleek black vehicle drumming with leftover adrenaline, his body humming with the energy he had burnt off during the exercise.

"Did you have a nice workout, Master Dick?" the butler, who also acted as a driver, inquired.

"You bet, Alfred," he answered cheerfully, to the man who was more of a friend than a servant.

Once the extra boost began to wear off, Dick sat back against the leather interior of the car, thoroughly beat. Not that the routine was difficult for him to handle. Nothing about gymnastics was a problem for a Grayson.

Flipping, handstands, flying across the trapeze? Every aspect of it came naturally. Performing ran thick through his blood, Jack Haly always said. After leaving the circus business behind even, Dick never lost his passion for soaring the sky.

Relaxed, he watched the lights of Gotham city pass by the transparent window pane. From a distance, the image was enchanting, as the countless buildings flew by in a haze. Up close, this wasn't case. In reality, Gotham was about as corrupted as they came.

They halted to a stop in one of the more seedier areas of town. On that note, Dick opened his eyes and glanced out the window again, taking a more serious observation of their surroundings. There was no significant sign of trouble, though he did catch sight of an unknown character walking into his line of vision.

But then the figure strolled under a nearby street lamp, and the young acrobat realized that it was not such a stranger after all.

"Superboy," Dick spoke absently.

"Pardon?" asked Alfred from the front seat, but the boy hardly heard him. He was busy trying to recall the memory containing all that he knew about the mysterious upperclassman.

The sun had been beating down on both their faces on the warm September afternoon. Wally and him were basking in the nice weather while it lasted. Right after last bell, so the building was still dispensing, when Dick spotted an unfamiliar face. He didn't know what made it so important, but he pointed the kid out to his friend and asked for some illumination.

Wally glanced over and replied, "Him? Just started here this year. Actually, I think he's in the junior class."

Dick studied the far away figure. Even with the distance, he could see that the older student was clearly tall and broad enough to be mistaken for a senior who had been held back a few years.

"What's his name?" Uninterested, Wally had merely shrugged.

"Dunno. Everybody calls him Superboy."

Tilting his head in curiosity, Dick had asked, "Why call him that?"

"Hello, Richard!" sang Wally in an imitation of their friend Megan Morazz, giving his forehead a playful flick. "The guy has muscles as thick as your smarty-pants skull!"

Dick bristled. "So? Roy's an archer, yet his nickname in elementary school was Speedy."

"Yeah, from what I hear, that's explainable too, just not in ways your innocent mind can comprehend," Wally whispered with a wink.

Ending with the faded sound of laughter, the memory receded back into the unused recesses of his mind. Dick frowned, wondering why the enigmatic student had never crossed his mind again afterwards. Perhaps their paths simply didn't coexist?

Still. Dick couldn't help but feel a stirring of guilt in the pit of his gut as he watched the lone figure steadfastly walk on. Here he was heading home to a luxurious mansion, whilst poor Superboy was facing down the nightly breeze without a jacket.

Where were his parents? Sure, Gotham had a reputation for harboring some really unsavory residents, but no one in a sane state of mind would allow their child to wander the streets alone at this hour. But if the rumors Dick occasionally caught wind of were anything to go by, maybe Superboy had nobody to teach him otherwise.

If Mrs. Grayson were alive, she'd be tutting incessantly. As it was, she was probably rolling in her grave as Dick internally struggled over what to do. It should be a no-brainer—keep going like it was any other ordinary evening. But with his stomach churning, his mind racing, his insides collectively screaming wrong...

In the end, Dick sighed.

"Alfred, pull over, please?"

"Master Dick?" the butler questioned.

"Just...please."

As soon as the car parked at the curb, Dick stepped out and shut the door. Wasting no time, he raced towards the dark-haired form.

"Hey, er, Superboy! Right?" he called. To his relief, the other boy slowed to a reluctant halt.

When Dick finally caught up, it became painfully clear that Wally's exaggerations were not unfounded. The was boy was rather tall, and muscular, and particularly formidable to a kid of Dick's size. Luckily, size did not intimidate him very much.

"We, uh, go to school together. You're two grades ahead of me, right? Right. I'm Dick Grayson," he introduced. Lame, yes, but it at least warranted a rebuttal. Still, Superboy gave no response.

Dick sighed. What had he been expecting? Confronting the renowned mute to go smoothly? Fine, he decided, if politeness or tact won't work, a straightforward approach was the only alternative.

His mother would be proud. "Dude, where's your coat? If you haven't noticed by now, it's a bit nippy for all us normal humans out here."

Scowling, Superboy stepped aside and began retreating in the directed he had been heading before. Well. Verbal or not, the man knew how to get a point across.

Obviously, Superboy wanted nothing do with him or his attempts at conversation. Nevertheless, Dick was unwilling to be deterred or defeated.

Like the lunatic Wally claimed him to be, Dick chased after the larger boy and strived to keep up with the brisk pace. Superboy continued on with his superb act of ignorance.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" he persisted anyway.

"Gym," was the curt reply.

"Which one?"

Superboy seemed to consider answering. Punching out the puny pest probably sounded pretty darn good at the moment, Dick guessed. Many jocks might do the same. However, that didn't seem to be the case with Superboy. He was definitely annoyed by Dick's antics, yet hardly had any intention of attacking out of irritation. Temper conquered by control; it was a combination the acrobat respected.

Breaking off from his inner musings, Dick heard the upperclassman finally grunt, "Young Justice."

Assuming that was the end of the discussion, Superboy sped up again. Dick increased his pace as well, clearly unimpressed. After all, he too spent a lot of time at that facility.

"Sure, yeah, except that I know for a fact that Young Justice is closed by this time on a weekday."

Superboy stopped where he stood.

Busted.

"Uh huh. So, let's try speaking the truth now, if you don't mind."

Superboy whipped around, and for a second, Dick feared being hit. At last, an expression of emotion appeared on the older boy's face.

"Do I mind?" he hissed. "What do you want from me?"

Interesting point. Dick was decidedly still in the midst of figuring that out. But while he was waiting, there was no argument against winging it, right?

"Would you like to spend the night at my house?"

The words sprung out of his mouth of their own accord. But once they were free, there was no way of swallowing them back. Shock settled onto Superboy's face, but Dick doubted anybody was more surprised than himself.

Finally, after an eternity of coming to grips with the situation, the upperclassman interrupted the pause:

"Are you...joking?"

"No way," Dick chirped.

Superboy's suspicion melted into confusion.

"You are...being serious?"

"Totally. We can have a brotastic sleepover, or so Wally calls it when he stays over—Nope? Yeah, Wally does come up with some pretty lame names. Regardless, we have a ton of spare rooms that are going to waste. Be doing me a big favor if you put one of them to use."

Icy blue eyes appraised him for a long juncture. Dick shivered slightly in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature. After all, he was wearing a proper coat. Wool just didn't protect against all matters of cold.

"You're not going to let me say no," said Superboy. Not a question but a statement.

Dick smiled. "You really don't have a choice in the matter."

Apparently, the victory was unanimous. Without further adieu, Dick gestured towards the car and Superboy languidly followed. He slid in beside Dick and said nothing. Which was a victory nonetheless.

"Home, Alfred." Alfred raised a inquiring brow, yet did as ordered without a word. Thank God for Alfred, Dick inwardly sighed. Always imploring, never judgmental. Bruce, on the other hand...

Well, they'd cross that bridge they get to it.

"Home sweet home," Dick sang upon arrival. Superboy hesitated in the doorway. "Come on in. I promise it's not haunted."

Taking a tentative few steps, he calmly waited for the older boy to stroll inside. Icy blue eyes were observing the vast ceilings and ornately crafted walls of the proud Wayne Manor.

"A bit much to take in at first glance, I know." Dick nodded understandably. "The day I first arrived, I swore this place was a castle. However, we're a few towers shy of making the cut."

The joke was weak, and with their sagely butler parking the car, he had no idea where to proceed from here.

"Do you need a shower or anything?" asked Dick without thinking. Then he blushed, realizing how incredibly awkward that sounded. In a hurried bid to change the subject, he suggested something else.

"How about a quick snack before bed?"

Without waiting for an answer, Dick led Superboy into the kitchen. If there was one thing Alfred taught him, it was that food was a tremendous ice breaker. Coincidentally, Tim happened to be inhabiting the kitchen at the moment they entered, munching on a plate of cookies and milk.

Using all the tact expected for a kid his age, Tim asked the unfamiliar person, "Who are you?"

"Manners," Dick reminded. "Tim, this is a classmate of mine from school, Superboy. Superboy, this is my little brother, Tim Drake."

At his insistance, the guest took a seat next to the younger boy whilst Dick scrounged up a light platter of bologna, cheese, and chips. "Bon appetite," he said with flourish, taking a seat across from the two.

Childishly, Tim openly surveyed the newcomer. After a only a few seconds of intense scrutiny (small attention spans were something to be grateful for), he smiled in approval.

If only adults were so easily appeased.

"Cool." Tim's face dropped in befuddlement. "But why is he here so late?"

"He's staying the night," replied Dick.

"Did you already ask Bruce?"

"Yes...no...not yet," he confessed.

It took a minute for the absurdity of the situation to sink in.

"Oh, man," Tim giggled. "Bruce is so gonna kill you!"

Dick scowled. "Yeah? And why is my premeditated death so funny?"

"S'not. But earlier today I accidentally knocked over an expensive vase in the hallway. Thought I was toast for sure. Compared with what you did, however, I might get off scotch free!"

Worst part? Tim's giddy reasoning was most likely true, and it gave him the urge to wipe the smirk off his little brother's face.

Dick turned to Conner, whose focus was now mildly interested in watching the sibling exchange.

"Pay no attention to him," he huffed. "I had wanted a monkey, Alfred was adamantly against the suggestion, so we bought Timmy instead. Knew I shouldn't have taught him the speak command, since he kind of ran away with it."

"Hey!" shouted the indignant Tim, who was promptly shut up by a wedge of cookie Dick shoved in his mouth.

"Bad. No speakie with your mouth full." He grinned back at Conner and gestured for the slightly amused teenager to follow him upstairs.

The second floor was filled with a vast number of bedrooms. Since there were rarely any visitors, most of them remained empty yet perfectly eligible.

"So...take your pick?" He trailed off, realizing that the older boy would have no clue whatsoever on where to begin. "Or I guess I could show you to your suite?"

Debating, Dick decided on a personal favorite, discovered during his many explorations back when he was first adjusting to the eerie estate.

"Maybe not the best we have, but I always liked this room. The view of the city is tremendous." The old door creaked open unwelcomely, causing Dick to wince. "Or if you would prefer a different one, I could—"

"It's fine," said Superboy gruffly. At Dick's unsure expression, he nodded reassuringly. "Whatever you think is best, I'll take."

At the small admission of trust, Dick managed a smile. "Alright, then. The bathroom is three doors down on the left, and my room is four rooms down and across the hall on your right. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Superboy entered the room, and rather than walking towards the bed, he stayed stone still in the center, glancing about like he'd never seen anything akin to it before. His inaction worried Dick.

"Will you be okay?" he asked.

For a beat or two, no answer was forthcoming. Then, as if awoken from a self-induced stupor, Superboy shook his head and uttered a solid, "Yes."

Nodding, the teenager playing host tonight went as if to leave.

"...Dick."

Startled, as Superboy had never attempted to initiate conversation (let alone say his name), Dick quickly poked his head back inside the room. What was so important...?

Eyes averted bashfully, Conner mumbled a quiet but definitely sincere, "Thank you."

Sufficiently stunned again, the boy on the receiving end simply stood there dumbstruck, until a grin foolish enough to match graced his features.

"Don't mention it," Dick said while walking out, and softly shut the door behind.

Good thing they bought Tim instead. Superboy hates monkeys. XD

Pretty, pretty please review with tiny, black bat sprinkles on top?