Dick Grayson meeting her new boyfriend

Dick Grayson broke up Starfire not too long after. He loved her, yes. He loved her dearly. However, sometimes, things just didn't work out.

He was back in Gotham.

He was back to pining for Barbara who he hadn't called, texted, or talked to in months. He only managed to get her apartment number because of Stephanie.

It was supposed to be a simple visit. No expectations, no pressure. Dick Grayson stood outside Barbara’s apartment door, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot. It was Valentine’s Day, and he’d decided—against his better judgment—to pay her a visit. He carried a bottle of her favorite wine, hoping to share a drink and maybe reconnect after all these years.

‘Just say hi, maybe have a laugh about the old days. No big deal. What’s the worst that could happen?’

He raised a fist and knocked. The sound echoed down the hallway, and for a moment, all he heard was the faint hum of fluorescent lights above. Then came footsteps—slow, deliberate ones—and the door creaked open.

Dick’s brain short-circuited.

Destiny was a fickly, funny thing. If it could happen to the intelligent redhead bombshell Barbara Gordon, then of course it could happen to the playboy resident hottie Dick Grayson.

Insecurity.

Standing in the doorway was a young man, black-haired, calm, and radiating the kind of effortless cool that made you instantly insecure. What made it worse wasn't his looks. No, it was the fact that this guy was completely nude. And hung. Like, really hung. The kind of hung that immediately made you question your entire existence as a man.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

His eyes flicked down for less than a millisecond. He wished hadn't.

It was the biggest cock he had ever seen.

‘Ten inches. That thing’s gotta be ten inches flaccid...!’

“Uh... hi,” Dick stammered, his voice cracking like a teenager’s. “I, uh, is Barbara home?”

The guy leaned casually against the doorframe, utterly unbothered by his nakedness. His smile was warm and polite, like Dick hadn’t just interrupted a private moment. “Barbara? Oh, you must be a friend of hers. She’s in the shower.”

The male turned a little and jabbed a thumb behind him. In that brief second, Dick's eyes darted down despite himself and he immediately cursed his reflexes. ‘Stop looking at it, stop looking at it, stop—!'

If those balls nutted in Barbara...god.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” the guy asked, looking back and tilting his head curiously.

“D-Dick,” he managed to **** out.

The man’s face lit up with recognition. “Oh, you’re Dick!” One arm on the doorframe, the other went out for a handshake. “Aaron Reigner. Nice to meet you. Babs has mentioned you before.”

Dick awkwardly switched the wine bottle to his other hand to shake it. "Haha, yeah, good to meet you, man."

Good to shake hands with a guy whose cock was twice his size flaccid. Fuck. Dick felt instantly emasculated.

No way. No way this was happening to him, Dick Grayson the legendary Nightwing. By glancing at the handshake, he saw Aaron's fat hefty nutsack and girthy, long cock. It was a shade lighter than his god and incomparably bigger than the Flying Grayson. Dick estimated himself to be three inches flaccid and six inches hard.

This guy was almost double his size without doing a thing.

Suffice to say, Dick's own balls shriveled up.

Just...no way. No fucking way. He was not competing with that on any level.

"Haha...haha..."

Up and down, up and down, their handshake went. Then it ended and there was the briefest of pauses.

‘Mentioned me? How? As a friend? As the smaller dick? ‘Cuz holy crap, that thing’s longer than my forearm.’

“I, uh, hope they were good things,” Dick said weakly. His smile felt like it was being held together with duct tape.

“Haha, it's not in Babs’ nature to talk too much. She complimented you the right amount, I feel.”

“Haha…haha…ha…”

Aaron leaned against the doorframe again, relaxed and completely unaware of Dick’s spiraling humiliation.

"So, want to come inside?"

“Ah, no, it's fine. I was, ah, here for someone else,” Dick said lamely, his voice an octave lower than normal. He shifted his weight again, acutely aware of the wine bottle sweating in his grip. “Wrong number, same apartment, haha."

"Oh, okay. I'll see you later then, man." Aaron smiled, nodded, and closed the door.

Dick’s gaze flicked downward one last time.

Click.

The door was locked.

Holy fuck, that damn cock was railing Barbara? Like…how the fuck was she supposed to come back to him after this demigod stretched her out. If she did it even just once…

Dick Junior would be out of business forever. Nightwing and Batgirl would no more.

Dick jogged down the stairs. He didn't bother with the elevator, his ears burning with humiliation. He practically sprinted to his motorcycle, throwing on his helmet as if it could shield him from the shame.

‘Ten inches. Ten flaccid inches.’

As he revved the engine and sped off, Dick muttered to himself, “No big deal. Totally fine. Just a random dude. Probably not even her boyfriend. Definitely not a big deal.”

But deep down, he knew. Oh, he knew. And the wine bottle, now warm and forgotten, sat on the passenger seat like a cruel reminder of the night’s colossal failure.

“His cock was bigger than the wine bottle…”

Fuck. Fuuuck. That dreadful shame sat at the bottom of his belly. The shame, the feeling that his girl was getting dicked down in ways he wouldn't be able to replicate.