(♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

There's no one to be mad at except for himself, but Jason can't even be that because he's too busy being mortified at himself and the truth he owns up to.

It's a joke (he thinks?) between them that Tim and Kon want to fuck him. It's some stupid way that they tease each other. That Jason thought about it isn't something anyone needed to know though.

But they're all working in the Cave as they wait for the truth serum to wear off. And it's quiet, boring, so when Tim gets a text of course Jason asks who it is. And when he finds out it's Kon, obviously Jason asks what he's up to.

It doesn't matter if Tim and Kon were actually texting about it or if Tim says it strictly out of habit, but Tim says, 'Kon was checking in to see if you'd let us fuck you yet,' and Jason somehow interprets the statement as a question.

The words leave his mouth unbidden and all Jason can do is stare into the middle distance, straight faced and utterly dissociated because Jason, in no uncertain terms, says as blase as anything, 'Yeah, I'd probably let you fuck me.'

And Batman's no meta rules be damned, Kon is there as if beckoned, smile wide and hand propped just behind Tim on Tim's chair, the picture of casual when he says, 'Hey, hi. What're we doing?'

All the while, Tim stares, wide-eyed and in awe because 'What?'

At which point Dick also intervenes, because 'What? 🙂'

Embarrassed as Jason is, he does his best to brush it off. The pink dusting his cheeks gives him away, but he glowers to try and offset it. Intimidating as he tries to look, even Jason knows he only looks sulky at best. Still, he double downs and says it again, 'I'd probably let Tim fuck me.'

Kon clapping Tim's shoulder and swaying them side-to-side, victorious because, 'We're so in.'

Which leads to a playful scuffle between Kon and Jason because Jason tells Kon that he's not going anywhere because Jason said Tim, only for Tim to get offended because why not Kon?

Which leads to a second unfortunate accident: 'Because he's not Robin.'

Jason doesn't hang around to see the aftermath of the mortifying truth. He slips right out of his chair to take cover beneath the table, hood pulled over his head and drawstrings pulled tight to allow more give to strangle himself fuuuuuuu-

Meanwhile, the peanut gallery: 🤯😳🫢

And then Tim peers under the table, 'Yeah, we can do that.'

Even Kon crouches down just to bump his fist to Jason's, 'Respect.' Because he gets it. ;)

It's all too much for Jason's maiden heart to bear, so he groans and tells the both of them to shut up while he crawls blindly out from beneath the table so that he can run and hide in the manor and maybe tell Bruce that Tim snuck his boyfriend past city limits.

Only to bump into Dick's leg. Who Jason somehow forgot was there at all. He drops his head to the ground, overheated from the levels of mortification he's experienced in less than five minutes.

Through Tim and Kon's laughter behind him, their jokes about missed opportunities, Jason notes that Dick is suspiciously quiet.

So, like the fool he is, Jason looks up to see Dick's expression.

He's scowling.

Jason groans to himself and drops his head back to the floor. Curled small in a ball at Dick's feet because why's he scowling? He's mad that Jason would defile the good Robin name (again)?

But Dick nudges him with his foot, both gentle and not, prompting Jason to sit up and glare at him, ready for a fight.

'I'm Robin.' Words Dick never thought he'd say again, but here he is. Offended. Petulant. Jealous. Because if Jason wanted to be fucked by a Robin, why not Dick? 'You wouldn't want me to fuck you?'

Which leads to the most unfortunate accident of the night. The damn truth serum must react more to things Jason feels strongly about, because he's embarrassingly enthusiastic, emphatic when he proclaims, 'Of course I want you to fuck me.' And more embarrassingly still, 'You're the only guy I ever want to fuck me. You could bend me over and fuck me wherever you damn well please and I'd say thank you.'

The force with which Jason slaps his hand over his mouth would be painful if he weren't currently in another plane of existence and not present to register it.

Dick being in a similar predicament, awestruck because Jason is that down bad. Overwhelmed, mind racing because like - Dick being the only one Jason's ever wanted?? Sexually, Dick's down. Romantically, he needs to buy a ring.

They share blankets, though Dick tends to feel overheated with fever while Jason fights chills. So although they know better, Jason still takes the hoodie Dick strips off and layers it over his own. And when Dick takes the heavy blanket away to compensate and keep Jason from overheating, Jason curls up small and swears vengeance upon him - Dick'll never fuck him again. Try him.

Dick does. The bastard calls Jason's bluff because they both know there's no way Jason could abstain. Not even sickness stops him from trying to get up on that.

Case and point: Dick tries to get Jason to drink water and Jason slyly tries to convince Dick to give it to him mouth-to-mouth. When Dick tells him 'later,' Jason refuses to drink until said later arrives. Which ends up in the saddest wrestling match ever seen as Dick pries Jason's mouth open to waterboard him.

Whoever feels less bad makes food, though it never fails whoever's left behind on the couch shuffles into the kitchen anyways. To lay their head on the counter and watch.

Dick always makes soups. Remedies from the various cultures he grew up with in the circus. Because Jason never had that growing up (no chicken soup learned from mom, not enough time with Alfred to pick any recipes up there, either), Dick shows him when they're both well enough.

And Jason loves it - learning Dick's favorite comfort foods while hearing stories that Dick never really shares with anyone.

So Jason learns to make soup, but sometimes all he can manage is toast cut into triangles and Jason doesn't know how to feel about it, but Dick is charmed and thanks him anyway.

Something something Dick sneezing or blowing his nose and Jason having this look of long-suffering and incredulity and mild disdain because, 'How's it fair to be handsome even when you're gross?'

And Dick laughs until he falls into a coughing fit because Jason is serious and it's cute. It's the same for him with Jason though, a statement that Jason protests, but Dick insists. There's nothing Jason can do that Dick doesn't find cute.

Something something Jason having the flu and puking his guts out and getting snarky from his place prostrated to the porcelain god, asking if Dick still thinks he's cute. And Dick snickers, pushing Jason's sweat matted fringe back from his face before assuring him that yeah, he does.

So many things, but mostly, they spend their recovery watching anything and everything true crime, though their favorites are cold cases, unsolved mysteries and controversial court proceedings.

There's never been a time Jason hasn't done this. It's a defensive measure honed into a toxic habit. Sometimes Jason uses it to keep himself in line so he won't be abandoned again, to know what he can get away with and what will get him hurt.

But this - it's a whim.

Because he feels safe enough to have it; safer still to express it.

So Jason indulges himself.

It happens because he's been reading too many romance novels; fallen down a rabbit hole with no way out and no desire to leave. It's how Dick finds him most days - curled up or laid out somewhere with his nose in a book.

And sometimes Dick calls him out for how he's smiling and Jason will get embarrassed, but the smile still persists. And other times Dick passes him by with a light brush of his fingertips to Jason's heated ears and he snickers at the way Jason startles then bats him away, flustered again.

Generally though, Dick doesn't impose or judge Jason for his hobby (he just cheekily reads over Jason's shoulder and has an uncanny knack for looking only ever when something remotely scandalous crosses the page).

So - a whim. Because Jason is doing more of the same. Reading. Contemplating. He's read the same thing so many times and it makes him curious if it's really such a big deal. On paper it makes Jason smile to himself, but does that translate to reality at all?

Cue: Dick. Always the victim of Jason's boundary pushing and now his silly whims.

But Dick is indulgent. He plays along; takes Jason's intention and runs with it.

And the thing is - Dick is wicked. So when Jason blocks him in the doorway and tells him to lean on the door frame, Richie Grayson himself makes an appearance - arm on the door frame and leaning in close, gaze flitting from Jason's lips to his eyes. All easy confidence with a devilish smirk.

Jason's might swoon, but with it comes bubbled up laughter as bright as the blush that dusts his cheeks. He smacks Dick's chest to push him back and Dick goes, falling back with an easy smile and a proclamation, 'Let me try again.'

Jason can't not humor him. It's not often Dick lets himself have fun, so Jason stifles his snickers and plays along, watching Dick with bright eyes and a bitten back grin.

So Dick does it again. Sultry with half-lidded eyes and damning with the subtle smile that pulls at his lips as he leans in close again - closer. And Jason's never heard Dick's voice the way he hears it now, but he fills a frisson, a thrill.

And because Dick has that knack for catching any and every saucy scene that happens to be in any book Jason reads, he says: 'Good boy.'

Oh.

Damn.

Jason flusters so bad he can't help but curl downward towards the floor, knees made weak enough that he stumbles as he barks out a sharp cackle. Face flushed, ears burning with a blush.

And Dick laughs, too. Snickering at his own antics as he catches Jason around the waist and pulls him back upright, presses him along the door frame.

'Fucking menace.' Jason titters, lighthearted and humored. It's a strange way to feel. There was a time he'd be embarrassed for getting so flustered, for being such a damn maiden at heart, but with Dick it's okay. The man's confidence is dangerous in how contagious it is.

It's safe. Through and through, Jason feels it. He's safe.

When Jason looks up at Dick, Dick still has his arm leaned against the door frame. Close, close, close. His hand drops to Jason's hip, thumb smoothing along covered bone and hidden scars with a gentle tenderness, eyes warm and filled with mirth; smile devastatingly adoring.

It's no different from before, only it is. Because there's nothing performative to it - it's just Dick. It's just how he is with Jason.

It's comfortable. It's easy. It's familiar.

It still makes Jason's heart skip a beat. Still gives him butterflies.

=======

There's something peaceful about it, but the companionable silence gives Tim's thoughts a chance to roam, so around the cig on his lips he looks dazedly up at the sky and asks, 'You guys ever think about how you'll die?'

'In a fall.' Dick says.

'In a gutter.' Jason says promptly after.

They're both so utterly deadpan that Tim doesn't know if they're serious or fucking with him. Not that it matters. The cigarette nearly drops from Tim's lips from how he gapes, but Jason steals it to take a drag, only to have Dick lean over and take one first.

Although Dick and Jason are both aloof to the question and their own answers, Tim gawks at them. Baffled. Concerned? He's not sure.

But they're laughing. With Jason shoving Dick away only for Dick to hold Jason's hand in place so that he can get another drag; with Jason complaining about stinginess only for Dick to take smoke into his mouth and breathe it into Jason's - a shotgun kiss that mellows Jason out immediately and leaves him falling backwards to the ground, hands over his face to hide his blush.

The thing is—Jason is Stray. He deals in information and it so happens that some old elite has information another client wants.

The handsome payment is contingent on how much Intel Jason can glean from them though. Which is none because this fucker has ties with the deepest part of Gotham's underground—the Court of Owls.

Hence Jason's predicament with being hunted by their stupid bird of prey with its clipped wings and sharpened talons.

It's a common occurrence for Jason to stick his nose where he shouldn't and get himself into trouble, but he thinks he's outdone himself this time. Truly.

Talon is relentless. Whenever Jason thinks he gives the monster the slip, they seem to appear from the darkest shadows. Eyes unnaturally bright against the pitch of night.

This must be what a sleep paralysis demon looks like. It's a thought barely formed in his head before he's snatched out of the sky and then they're rolling along a rooftop.

And it should hurt (it's going to - Jason is ready to tear this monster apart with claws and hands alike), but it doesn't.

Because Talon braces for him when they hit the ground. Protecting him. And even when Jason looks ready to attack because he's been cornered, there's no threat that Jason can see or sense.

It's disconcerting. The Court and its Talon are a nursery rhyme in Gotham, but those who know—they know.

Jason's chest still heaving from adrenaline and exhaustion and fear. And he still wants to lash out, knows he should take the opportunity to strike and run again, but there's something to Talon's expression, his eyes, that stills Jason and breaks his heart.

In the end, Talon backs off on his own. A flash drive gets held out to him though because this monster-weapon-tool is passing off intel to him.

Jason looks at Talon, searching his expression and hurting, aching the more he looks.

'They'll kill you for this.' He tells the Talon.

And they look at him, tired but determined. Resigned and resolved. For a moment, he looks like a man before the shadows swallow him again, leaving Jason with a rough voice, disused; never spoken to, never heard: 'Counting on it.'

=======

But before that, Dick hearing Jason's yelp from the stairwell of Jason's apartment; scenting a mix of surprise and distress that has Dick racing, charging the distance to Jason's door to throw it open, barging in with hackles raised and growl low, dangerous.

A warning to whoever threatened what's his, a threat to whoever hurt his mate omega little wing and put their Jason's pup in harm's way.

Only everything is fine. No home invasion, no attempted abduction or signs of struggle. It's just Jason, sat on the couch with Damian standing in front of him, both of them looking at him incredulously because of his grand entrance.

And Dick might look at them just as incredulously.

Because for whatever reason, the pup's mouth is covered in blood.

Because Jason sits there holding his wrist, blood pooling over his fingers.

It's a lot to come home walk in on.

Admittedly Dick doesn't handle it as well as he would've in the field. Instinct overrules his better judgment, so before Dick even consciously realizes what he's doing, he's got a pup under one arm and an omega over his shoulder, ready to haul ass to the nearest hospital.

The only reason he's brought down from his frenzy is because Jason nips him and scents him in a way that brings Dick back to some level of calm.

Which is how they all end up in Jason's small bathroom, Damian sat on the counter and Jason on the side of the tub as Dick cleans them both up.

A few stitches for Jason who flusters at the way Dick holds his hand. Gentle, careful. More than once Jason tries to pull away, but Dick holds fast, nipping the tips of Jason's fingers with soft affection that makes the omega bashful, his ears burning red.

Damian is surprisingly agreeable with Dick when he cleans the boy's face, scrubbing away dried blood until Damian is fresh faced and looking every bit a chagrined pup.

Dick asking Damian directly if there's a reason he bit Jason. (And Jason being so pleased that they both can smell it before Jason manages to tamp it down. 'Because you checked in with him,' Jason explains to him later. 'Not everyone does that with pups.')

The answer: 'You do it.'

Which, oh. my god.

Dick can't even react. He's just there with a fake smile trying to keep his composure. It's not often he gets embarrassed, but wow.

Jason snickers about it, ready to tease him until Damian comes in and looks sidelong at Jason, 'And you are always very happy about it. I can smell it.'

Which leaves Jason in much the same state as Dick.

Every parent and caretaker they know warned them about minding their behavior because pup's will imitate. It's not that Jason and him disregarded the advice, but apparently they didn't give it the attention it needed.

In their defense though, Dick and Jason have never (intentionally) gotten frisky in front of Damian (and if they are caught they play it off), but the fact stands that Dick's affectionate and Jason is receptive to the affection and Damian has eyes.

Because even if Dick doesn't leave marks on Jason when Damian is around, the marks are still there. But Damian doesn't understand what they are; he's a pup.

All Damian knows is that he doesn't like that Dick's affections are the only ones that linger. Because Damian doesn't love Jason any less.

Which just about fucks them both up because the sentiment is so sweet. ;////;

Just Jason carrying Damian's affection always since the bite is going to scar. And Dick being both jealous but mostly humored over how a pup marked Jason before Dick ever got the chance to even ask.

In Dick's defense, they've been stuck on this case for too long. Jason can't say he wouldn't have done the same if he had a breakthrough no matter how inopportune the time was.

So rather than give Dick a hard time, Jason climbs up on the couch behind him. Comfortable when he leans forward to look over Dick's shoulder to see what Dick has going for them.

It's not something Jason thinks twice about when he takes the towel from around Dick's shoulders and starts drying Dick's hair. Much like Dick, Jason gets distracted, too. Lulled into a deep focus by the notes Dick has added to their case - the avenues it opens up for them.

And it's a little belated because Dick is so focused, but eventually the man answers Jason with a cheeky, 'Only sometimes?'

It makes Jason scoff. Often would be a more apt answer, given that this man is the sort to wake up from a dead sleep, let his food go cold, jump out of a damn shower just to work. 'Because it's important,' Dick argues with him and Jason hates how fucking cool he thinks it is. Still, it's concerning, too.

Because Jason thinks that Dick gives too much of himself away sometimes. Because Jason sees the weight on Dick's shoulders, the burdens Dick can't help but take on and how it gets him taken advantage of and used although no one ever appreciates the effort enough and-

Jason doesn't want Dick to burn out. Or get hurt again. Or get lost in a way where he forgets himself again.

Jason fixes Dick's hair though he should really leave it to dry at odd angles. Grumbles, 'Do you ever relax?'

'Sure,' Dick tells him.

It makes Jason laugh, a disbelieving snicker because they've been together for a long time now and Jason certainly hasn't seen it. So he calls Dick out on it, challenging him, 'Yeah? When?'

And Dick, the smartass, pats his bare shoulder before looking back at Jason with the cheekiest of smirks, 'Right now.'

Incredulous as the quip leaves him, Jason feels indescribably fond.

'You're dumb.'

'And so stressed.'

'The worst.'

'A strategic opportunist.'

Their banter is easy. It goes back and forth, traded quips that's no different from any other day but still makes Jason smile like it's the first time.

'Is that what we're calling cunning bastards now?'

Dick just pats his shoulder again and returns to his work.

And Jason knows that Dick was just teasing him, but he relents nonetheless. Tentative when he reaches out, wary when he touches.

Dick's skin still being warm from the shower. Him shivering just a bit because Jason's hands are always cold. But Dick relaxes quickly when Jason presses his thumb along Dick's trap.

It's knots on knots that Jason works through slowly, idly.

Before long, they fall into a familiar back and forth with work. Discussing Dick's theory and debating what their next steps ought to be.

And at some point, the thoughtless shoulder massage switches to Jason idly scratching through Dick's hair. A weakness of Dick's, as it turns out, given how Dick leans his head back onto Jason's leg and seems to doze.

If only because Jason gets embarrassed by his own thoughtless brazenness (even if it comes natural, easy as anything), he gives Dick's hair a pull and complains, 'When do I get to relax, huh?'

Dick laughing under his breath and then pulling Jason's foot over his shoulder and giving it a squeeze, returning the favor.

Only Jason's toes curl. And he tries to fight the flinch, but Dick runs his thumb along the arch of Jason's foot and Jason jerks, ticklish.

It's a reaction that gets Dick's attention, wide-eyed with awe and wonder before there's a sudden shift to mirth and mischief.

Like hell Dick is letting go of Jason now.

Cue these two roughhousing. With Jason maneuvering to wrap his leg around Dick's chest, his neck. Pinching Dick's head between his thighs and bumping Dick's head each time Dick manages to tickle Jason's foot again.

It takes a minute to get Dick to tap out, but the man gives in with a pat to Jason's thigh and a snicker, begging off and looking back at Jason to tease him, 'Can't see you blush like this--'

Which starts their roughhousing anew. Until Jason tumbles down to the floor. Until Dick gets Jason pinned in that small space between the couch and coffee table.

And then it's just them with Dick hovering over him, smile soft while Jason titters breathlessly beneath him. Both crowding each other's space but not caring.

Maybe Dick lays his weight over Jason. Maybe he truly relaxes because he likes the feel of Jason's sporadic laughter, his breathing.

And maybe Jason relaxes, too. Because he scratches his nails light over Dick's back and feels the warmth of him; his skin, the muscle, and all Dick's scars. Being close with someone like this might always feel strange to Jason, but he cherishes it - lets his arms fall around Dick's head to hold him close; to hold onto this moment, same as all the others.

=====

Alternative end where Dick is pinning Jason to the floor and it's super flirty and playful. Jason's cheeks dusted a sweet pink and Dick - so utterly adoring as he looks down at him.

But then Dick grimaces before slowly looking up. Jason being confused, so he tilts his head back and sees Bruce. Surprising them with a visit.

'Boys,' Bruce would call for them, awkward as ever.

Seriously though this man is effervescent. Darkness and night has never looked so bubbly. Not only does Jason still think of Bruce as his dad, but his boy also thinks so highly of Bruce that Jason wants a partner of the same caliber? Amazing. Marvelous.

Obviously Bruce set a good, high standard. He wonders what qualities of his Jason recognized in Dick most. Certainly it would be his compassion, his loyalty. 😌

Oh, this man gets so smug, tooting his own horn while Jason is in the background acting every bit a feral cat--hissing, wriggling, scratching to try and get free to maul Tim's face and finish their residual business from the tower incident.

Truth be told, Bruce purposefully kept his nose out of Jason's business with Dick. It didn't feel like his place, but now that Bruce is back on dad terms with his boy? Of course Bruce asks about it--this is his boy's first relationship. It's important! He wants to know what it was about Dick that won Jason over.

And, look. Jason isn't dumb. He puts together real quick that Bruce overheard Tim's comment and is fishing for compliments, so Jason deadpans, 'He's a bastard.'

And then Bruce never recovers but he accepts he had it coming. It's while he's collapsed over the batcomputer desk suffering that Jason's titters start though and Bruce comes back to life despite the earlier critical hit. Because Jason is tickled by himself, at the joke he made.

And Bruce just smiles, fond and adoring. And when he looks across the cave and sees Dick looking at Jason just the same, he thinks he understands. ;//////;

====

It seems obvious that Jason must've done something to piss Dick off. When Tim asks about it though, Jason snickers and assures him that Jason is innocent this time; this is all Dick.

Which makes Tim worry more somehow because it's got to be bad if Dick is so bothered by it. Only it can't be serious since Jason is clearly taking such joy in it.

Rather than go to Dick, Tim sticks with Jason and asks what happened. Only when Jason goes to share, they're both stopped short by the coldest glare either of them have ever experienced in their lives. It draws a shudder down Tim's spine, but a sputtered giggle from Jason.

'Come on, stop sulking.' Jason would tell Dick, meandering over and braving the crackling atmosphere around Dick to plop into his lap.

And usually Dick is all about the pda when Jason offers it, but today he keeps his hands to himself, leaning away from Jason with his arms crossed.

'You're proof that it's not a big deal. Tim'll get over it too if he hasn't already; just apologize if you feel so bad.'

That this is somehow about Tim surprises him. He can't remember Dick doing anything that'd upset him.

Rather than be worried over how Tim is affected, Tim frowns and frets over Dick because, 'What's going on, D?'

But Dick remains stubbornly tight lipped and avoiding his gaze.

So Jason chimes in with a cheeky, 'He's just sore because he realized he pulled the same shit on you that B did to him.'

It takes Tim only a second to put the pieces together and once he does, he can't help but laugh. He hadn’t thought about it like that. Karmic retribution is sweet.

'I did it because Tim's his own hero - he's bigger than Robin--'

'Huh.' Bruce chimes in, stoic yet still smug from his place at the batcomputer.

Just lots of jokes and teasing that makes losing Robin sting a lot less because Dick really went full circle with firing ('I didn't fire you') him and replacing him for a younger brat. All out of some sense of confidence and pride and belief Tim could be more ('look at you now though--') that boils down to 'Dick knows best'.

All Dick can do is hide behind his hands as he's laughed at.

He'll recover in time, same as he did when he lost Robin - same as Tim did when he lost the mantle, too.

Petty as it is, it feels vindicating though.

So to make right another wrong (the tower incident), Tim turns on Jason with a bright smile and snickers, 'Guess it's true what they say about finding a partner like your dad, huh?'

Walls and barricades built up to separate Bruce from the tragedy.

Because that boy didn’t need a hero; he needed his dad.  And Dick–he’d warned Jason, ‘A hero won’t love anything more than their cause.’  Dick had told him.  Jason hoped anyway.

Even if Jason were fifteen, it’d still be too soon to lose him.  He was a kid.  A boy who nipped at Dick’s heels and stuck close to his side, head careened back to grin at him.  A boy who was resilient, fierce, spirited; empathetic, kind, compassionate.  Not a soldier, not some cautionary tale, just–Robin.

Jason treated the mantle with a care that touched some broken, wounded part of Dick; something young and lost.  Sometimes Dick still can’t comprehend just how dear a thing his legacy was to someone; how tender his name could be called.

There was so much Jason didn’t get the chance to do.  That Dick is here like that might change something is stupid, but he still sits in front of Jason’s tombstone, gaze falling from Jason’s name to the flowers Dick laid on the boy’s grave.

Because Jason missed out on so many firsts, but he had this.  A crush.  A first love, innocent and sweet.

And maybe Dick didn’t love him back, but damn it all if Dick doesn’t love that boy all the same in his own way. That boy was so fucking easy to love (Dick's never known how dear someone can be before this boy and it hurts; Dick has never loved in halves).

So Dick brings the boy flowers and sits with him (again, again, again; on birthdays and anniversaries, holidays and whenever Dick misses him).  It's too little, too late, but Dick hopes–he hopes–that Jason will know that he left them loved.

Fifteen.

It’s the number of minutes Dick has with Joker before Arkham’s security realizes their feeds are compromised.  It’s the number of hits Dick gets before Joker’s smile drops-breath stills-heart stops.  It’s more than he needs but less than he wants, but it has to be enough.

Fifteen.