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thejusticelounge2012-03-26 10:12 pm
bossymarmalade) wrote in thejusticelounge2012-03-26 10:12 pm
feral jason is feral
Jason exhaled and readied his next throw. The target at the end of the gym was spiked with all but two of his knives, and once he’s thrown this one he was going to have to go and pull them all out. He wasn’t going to throw the last one because he never liked being completely weaponless.
Not that he was weaponless without his knives anyway - he had his gun and his tranq dartsandtranq-gun but…
Knives were a lot easier to pick up again, and less likely to blow a hole in the hull.
The gym was a spacious room two floors under the arborteum, with all the equipment a superhero with both super and non- superpowers could possibly desire.
And some fascinatingly strange ones too - which Jason had a suspicion were meant for some of the less Earthling JLA members.
Jason’d found the gym by his fucking self, because Rayner had frankly just abandoned him in the arborteum (No he was not thinking about that kiss, not about the weird warmth or anything), and Jason was NOT going to do any picking up of any fucking plants because he’d practically bared his soul (almost. kinda, he’d told him something that no one else had heard before,even though it hadn’t been that much of a secret, the secrets Jason had, he wouldn’t tell anyone not so easily) to Kyle Fucking Rayner who had fucking just decided he wasnt worth the effort to even let down easy.
Or hell, tell him he kissed badly. Or he didn’t like the taste. Or he didn’t want to. Or … even”hey can’t we just be friends” like all those shitty, stupid sitcoms.
No, of course not. He’d just run awaylike Jason Todd, Red Hood, Dead Robin Walking was the worst thing ever on earth to even look at, let alone kiss.
Jason snarled at the target and flung his last knife, imagining it stabbed Rayner in the FACE.
Fucker.
Fucking bastard.
One of his knives was knocked loose; wobbled and dropped out of the mangled target - which had been a dart-board. It wasn’t much of one now.
Jason stomped over to it and yanked out all of the knives, putting them back into his sheaths.
Fucking. Asshole. Well it wasn’t like he was here
Dinah had just entered the gym in time to see his last throw. The angry way he stomped towards the target, not yet realizing she was there. His shoulders were hunched up, fury obvious in every tensed muscle. She almost laughed when she saw his teeth bared in a snarl, imagining a feral lion. The thought of him growling was too much.
“Whoever pissed you off clearly had no idea who they were messing with.” Dinah moved forward with careful steps. If Red Hood decided to turn those blades on her, she’d be ready to dodge them and take him out. As it was, she was more hoping just to talk, maybe even spar. “So do I have to guess what happened with Kyle or will you make it easy for me?” It had to be Kyle that he was so frustrated with. It wasn’t the first time they’d gone at each others’ throats.
Jason stilled even MORE at the sound of her voice, the careful soft clicks of her heels against the gym floor, and he scowled, made himself relax, pointedly. His broken arm ached, and he was already in a foul mood. But he pulled the blades free and holstered the last few, spinning one light knife in his fingers.
“It’s none of your business, Canary,” he said, finally, because she was carefully non-aggressive, non-hostile (thought that might change) and maybe he hsouldn’t let her approach too closely. The concussive force of her scream would probably hurt at this close if she decided he was a a danger…
But she probably wouldn’t. Not all the JLA had the same particular standards as Batman (and they all certainly weren’t Kyle Fucking Bastard) so.
“What did you want, BC?”
“So you haven’t heard?” Dinah stopped walking, noting Jason’s unease at her growing proximity. “Gree- Kyle asked me to take more of his shift with you. Seeing as he already had a SErVE member he was watching over and found that having two was too much.”
There was only a flash of it on his face. A slight twitch of hurt at her words. But Jason had been trained by the Bat, and before she knew it, it was gone. “I’m going to be in charge of your time here. If you need anything, you can come to me. The whole point of you being here is to help you.”
Oh. Of course. That was subtle of Rayner. Very subtle.
At least he hadn’t just off and told Black Canary about why he didn’t want to have Jason as a … whatever it was, whatever this was, he’d given her some vaguely respectable reason.
Even if it was a fucking bullshit reason but.
Jason’s jaw clenched, a moment. “I don’t need help, BC.” He didn’t. He’d come here because he’d been invited. just because Batman didn’t approve didn’t mean that the others would, of him, particularly and.
Fuckit. “I’d like to be alone.” he gestured at the dead dart-board. “for target practice. Have to keep it up , before someone breaks my other arm.”
Dinah sighed, dropping her arms to her sides. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, Jason. Fortunately, this is a free space. Not even your bad mood can deter me from getting my training in.”
Dinah moved to the other side of the room, taking up a position in front of one of the larger punching bags. She’d warm up with her punches and kicks before moving on to some of the weights.
Jason eyed her warily, expecting her to… well. something. Have a brooding angry, sucking silence or something that’d guilt him into responding. into saying something.
But she didn’t do that. She just… started working on her training. Calm and… whatever it was, it wasn’t brooding.
He huffed, tossed his knife twice in the air, automatically catching it by the handle even though he was glancing at Dinah, warily.
Hmph. She seemed to mean what she said.
He tucked the knife back into his sheath, and poked the dart-board till it was rotated about 90 degrees before walking back about thirty feet.
It took some effort to maintain the angry i’m going to stab Kyle’s face, in the presence of someone like Black Canary, but Jason was stubborn, and he’d WORK at it.
She quickly made her movements rhythmic. It was easier to focus on the slightly volatile young man. Thunk Thunk Thunk. Her fist repeatedly struck the bag. Her ears followed his steps. He seemed to have lost his rage. That was what she had been hoping for. If she’d learned anything from listening to Connor talk about zen and meditation, it was that on focused and healed in a calm state of mind.
The familiar tingle that ran up her arms when she did this for too long arose. Like with each time before, Dinah pushed past it. Not enough to hurt herself, but a little more than the last time, which was more than the time before that. Finally, Dinah stopped swinging her arms, taking a deep breath, propping herself up to balance on her right leg, kicking her left out in a series of rapid strikes, repeating on the other leg.
Her punching the bag was, well, rhythmic. Thunk, thunk thunk. Then kicking, with a slightly different sound, alternating .
If Jason focussed on the sound, he could guess which leg she was using - Right, right right right, then left left left left, then right again. It was oddly relaxing to breathe in tandem with that - feel the tingle in his own arms to throw his knives in tandem too.
but he was a contrary little bastard nad was NOT going to do that.
He deliberately threw his knives in an off-set pattern. 1-2-3, then another, then 2 at once.
Dinah stumbled as the sound of his knives broke her concentration and rhythm. With a small sigh and a smile, she turned on her heel, watching Jason nonchalantly toss more blades.
With a roll of her eyes, Dinah forsook the bag, moving to the weights located much closer to Jason than she had previously been. She shrugged off her leather jacket and removed her heels. Flat on her feet, she was better coordinated. She started small, as always, working her muscles with steadily increasing weight.
Jason smirked when he heard the bag swing, the chain creaking a little under the weight but with no answering thump of a kick or punch.
Heh.
He spun his next knife, closing his eyes, and listened - ah, he could hear the rustle of clothing, and she was closer to him now, with the very faint sound of weights settling - then mostly silence. Her breathing wasn’t laboured, just there.
Jason grinned and tossed his next knife, hitting bullseye.
he COULD go over there and benchpress some few hundred pounds worth or something, just to be a jerkass, but hey, this was a free workout space, right? He could just retrieve his knives. He normally would have switched hands by now, but… his smile faded.
Fuck you Rayner.
He’d gone back to his rhythmic throwing, this time more angry. He was getting frustrated again.
Dinah held her hands together, holding the coupled weights above her head and moving them down to her waist and back up again. Under the harsh lights in the training room, she could feel the warm beads of sweat rolling down, from her hairline, down her neck, her back, sliding into her uniform. With a groan, Dinah set the weights down, pulling her hair together in a ponytail to let the limited air flow more over her skin. ‘Damn it was too hot in here.’
And yeah he’d lost concentration just enough to end up tossing his last knife. All his knives.
Fuck. Jason exhaled and stormed over again, yanking out his knives with a little more force than necessarily, and if it weren’t for the cast getting in his way, he might have sliced his arm open.
Yay thank god for the goddamn cast.
Then he spun around and.
Well okay so Dinah was sweating, pink with exertion, wet down her back, and… girls sweating had a slightly different smell to guys sweating, somewhat lighter.
He wouldn’t say more pleasant, or anything, it was just - that’s what girls sort of smelled like and this is what guys sort of smelled like.
It also meant she was really, really just here to work out, and not bothering him to talk or…
“Ffst,” he exhaled and slouched down to a bench. “I can spot you on the bench press if you want.”
“Oh? And here I thought the Red Hood wanted to train alone. Not that I’m complaining.” Dinah set the weights down, smirking at him. The growl that was aimed at her only made her laugh. She swung an arm towards the bench. “If you still want to.”
She grabbed a towel, drying off some of the sweat that had worked it’s way across her skin. Satisfied, Dinah selected a few of the weights to add to the bar. She then lay on the bench, drying her hands one more time before reaching up to grab it.
Jason stood behind her head, and she only assumed that his eyes were following the up and down movement of the weight.
“I’m training alone,” Jason scoffed, making sure he was watching the weights, and her arms. “This is being considerate. and making sure that you don’t drop weights on your head.”
There was always something nice about the Gym. Maybe the fact that it was the Gym, but Dick always felt he had the best workouts when he got to use it. Running through his mental list of what he wanted to do, he didn’t realize there were other people working out until he heard a familiar voice.
Jay?
He set his bag down gently, the Bat silence working in full. There was Jason, his errant little brother, spotting for who looked like Dinah. Dick did a once-over for knives; good, they were back on the bench. As he moved forward, he noted the cast—another safety. Arms extended behind him, he crept up on the pair, making sure to stay in Jason’s blind spot and on the side of the good arm; Jay couldn’t do much with the other one, he figured.
“Jason!” he shouted, and threw himself at his brother, pinning the younger man’s good arm to his chest, wrapping himself around him as much as was humanly possible.
Jason did NOT scream - he will shoot you if you say he did later. SHOOT YOU - and tried to twist away. Twist up and maybe KNEE THE FUCKER in the groin.
But his arm was pinned, his knives were ALL GONE and he couldn’t reach his gun and ohfuck it was Dick Fucking Grayson, he of the hug-o-matic. “Let GO of me you fucker! Get OFF what the hell you wangbadan!”
Dick laughed loud in Jason’s ear, calmly moving with the other boy. Dick’s body was like water. Really, really strong water.
“I think you’re taller than the last time I saw you. You’ve still got the mouth, though,” Dick scolded. ”Be careful. Alfred will wash your mouth out with soap if you swear like that at the Manor.”
He giggled again as Jason twisted and writhed in his grasp.
“Uh-uh, baby bird! You’re not going anywhere. Just relax and enjoy the hug.” He tightened his grip just a little, just enough for Jason to get the hint. ”So, tell me about the arm. And hi, Dinah. Don’t mind us.”
“Like FUCK I’m going to the manor, ARGH get OFF me!” Jason tried to jab him in a nerve cluster under his ribs but Dick moved like a goddamn snake, and jason couldn’t get a proper jab in.
Especially with the fact that he had his broken up, hindering him. He tried to kick Dick in the kneecap. “I’m not your baby ANYTHING. hnnnnng!”
stupid dick and his stupid hugs. Dinah probably thought they were both crazy.
Jason was going to bite Dick if his face came any closer.
“Not until you calm down and say you missed me.” He squeezed a little tighter. ”I missed you~”
The dodging and moving was fine until the kick. In order to avoid busting a kneecap, he twisted and shifted his weight, but misjudged the distance between Jason’s foot and his own calf. The sharp pain main Dick tighten reflexively, a small groan escaping through his clenched teeth. Trying to regain his balance, he leaned bodily against Jason.
“See, now that just wasn’t nice, Jay. I’m just trying to be a good brother.”
“Like fuck I missed you, I did NOT miss anyone!” Said the lying liar. Jason kept kicking and twisting and managed to hook his foot to the back of Dick’s ankle and down they both went. Fortunately he didn’t jar his arm, because Dick was his cushion.
HAH.
Also served Dick right, trying to lean ALL HIS WEIGHT on him.
Asshole.
Even if he smelled incredibly good (but Dick always did, the jerkface), a hint of city-night and kevlar, Jason was not going to stop struggling.
“You’re a jerkass brother,” he snapped, because Jason couldn’t stop snarling like a feral puppy when he was surprised and made to take hugs he didn’t explicitly ask for.
So there.
With a yelp and an “oof!”, Dick hit the ground with the solid weight of his brother on top of him. As much as that was not at all in his original hug plan, Dick realized what a lovely advantage it actually provided him. Wriggling just enough, Dick wrapped his legs around Jason, effectively pinning him on top of Dick.
“You’re so cute when you’re angry, Jaybird. Hey, is that new shampoo?”
“I am not -” Jason growled, annoyed. With one arm out of commission, he couldn’t do much to pin Dick , and he couldn’t quite roll out of his fucking hold.
He wriggled so they were face to face so he could fucking SNARL at Dick. “Stop smelling my hair you freak!”
Which was, of course, when he realised that the position was probably NOT the best.
Damn. It.
Fuck his life.
Dick’s smile could not be bigger if he tried. He could give the Joker a run for his money right now, with how hard he was smiling.
Oh, Jay.
“But you smell so good,” he said, snickering. He nuzzled Jason’s cheek, ghosting a teasing kiss against his skin. He laughed as Jason wriggled again, and tightened his clutch.
“You know, the last time I was in this position and called a freak, it was under very different circumstances.”
Jason went very, very still because.
He’d had crushes on Superman before, and GA, a little, he’d had a terrifying dream of Batman ONCE. JUST ONCE, and after a gruelling day of being thrown around the sparring mats the next day by the man himself Jay had gotten over it.
THIS though. This was different. It wasn’t even the same, ‘i have a lust for you’ he had for kyle Rayner.
This was the guy Jay had been afraid would come back to take the suit, who had called him a punk and thrown him off a train, who had run the Gauntlet before him and maybe thought he was okay with it, given him the suit, and hated him and resented him and was fucking good at his job, made wise-cracks and right now was fucking nuzzling his FACE.
in public!
well in front of Dinah.
Jason tried to elbow him, but to do that he’d have to break his own elbow to do it.
Fuck. Fuck his life.
He could feel his face go very, very red, his casted arm pinned between their bodies, and the way Dick’s legs were wrapped around his waist and tight and his pelvis (yes, pelvis, not.. anthing else. no. not thinking) pressed up tight against his own and.
He was not doing thiiiis. He wasn’t!
He growled and chomped down onto Dick’s shoulder.
Dick smiled into Jason’s cheek when the younger man went still. He pressed his nose into his face a little more and opened his mouth to tease him again.
The yell that came out of Dick was not at all too slight in its resemblance to that of a wounded animal. Of all the things Dick thought Jason might do, biting into his shoulder like he wanted to eat him was not on the list. Well, OK, it was there, but it wasn’t as high up as it turned out to be.
“FUUU…rrrrghe,” Dick half-swore, his reflexes of censoring himself from living with a young child kicking in. Punching Jason in the shoulder blade, Dick let go of Jason as much as he could, letting his legs flop to the side. He left his right arm clutching Jason’s back, afraid of pulling it away with Jason’s teeth still locked in him.
That really fucking hurt.
Jason grinned viciously, letting go and rolling off him.
Hah! Win!
“That’d teach you, dickiebird,” he crowed. It wasn’t like his teeth had broke skin.
Dick sat up and rubbed his shoulder, pouting. Jason had latched onto a good chunk of muscle there, and it was slowly starting to throb.
“That wasn’t fair, Jason. I was just giving you a hug.”
He glared over at his brother. ”I hope you’re happy.”
“I said i didn’t want no hugs,” Jason said, and he was not going to be affected by that damn huge pout.
Or glare.
He was IMMUNE. He’d given Batman his own fair share of huge eyed pouting, so he’d be able to resist Dick’s.
“What happened to just saying ‘hi’ like a normal person, Dickhead?” Where were his knives? With his knives Dick wouldn’t try to hug him again.
Even though for several warm seconds, it had been nice. To be wanted, to have that affection.
He could feel thin threads of regret at pushing Dick away (This time, it might be the last, Dick might not try to hug him again, or want to spend time with him again, except Jay didn’t want to spend time with him anyway, Jay didn’t NEEED time to be spent with. shuttup), but shoved it ruthlessly away.
he awkwardly holstered his knives to his side where his cast got in the way, and pointedly ignored Dick’s pout like a particularly ruffled cat.
Dick’s pout increased when he realized Jason wasn’t paying attention.
“You never actually said that,” he totally did not whined. He spun around on the floor to face Jason, crossing his legs. ”Anyway, a hug is a perfectly valid way of saying hi to a person. Just because you’re weird and don’t like it, doesn’t mean it’s bad.”
What was even happening to him? Dick felt like he was a kid again, lecturing someone on how to play nice in the sandbox.
Oh god, he was. Well, that was just awkward.
Clearing his throat, Dick tried to regain some dignity. ”So, what happened to your arm?”
“You’re whining like a brat,” Jason pointed out. “And you KNOW I don’t do good with surprise fucking hugs, YOU are the weird one, you fucking hug-spider.” He strapped on the last of his knives, all his armour back in place.
There. Hug-proof.
It’d take some serious EFFORT to strip him of his weapons now. He settled his good hand on his belt - if Dick tried he’d shock the fuck out of him. hah.
“Got hammered into a wall.” he said, shortly.
He couldn’t help himself from snickering at “hug-spider”.
“You have such a way with words, Jason,” he said, smiling up at him. He watched him put away his knives and armor up. It was going to take more work than Dick was willing to spend right now to get in another hug. That was OK.
Dick can be patient.
He winced in sympathy pain. ”Yikes. How long’s that gonna take to heal?”
“Well it’s not like they’re gonna waste Kryptonian tech on a criminal like me would they?” Jason said, with a scowl. All armoured up, safe from hug-attacks. Safe from everyone.
(Because no one would bother to try and peel him out of his armour anyway.)
(not that he needed it. He didn’t want it.)
“So the usual of course.” He sneered a little, standing up, straightening. “Six weeks. Clean break at least, but it’ll be hell for the rehab.”
Dick’s expression softened into sad concern.
“Jay…I’m sure no one would mind you healing quicker. I mean, since you’re here, you might as well get treated. You’re still a Robin, Jay.”
It took about two seconds longer than it should have for Dick to realize that maybe wasn’t the best thing to say.
Well done, Grayson.
Jason stilled like a very pissed off tiger.
“I am not Robin,” he snarled, low, soft and dangerous, teeth bared and anyone else looking might see him BRISTLE with his knives. Sleek and dangerous. His eyes narrowed behind the mask - only vigilantes who knew how to read people behind masks like this would have noticed - his domino hid his eyes from view otherwise.
“I don’t need fucking pity from you, or from anyone else,” he snapped. He wasn’t robin. He wasn’t anything to Batman, and he didn’t need pity from his so-called family, and he didn’t need shit from this - this.
Anyone! Why the fuck was he here again?
She had tried to keep her face as normal as possible when Dick entered the gym. From what she had heard through the grapevine, Dinah knew there would be tension if the two former Robins met. For the first time since it happened, Dinah was glad Jason’s arm was broken. Kyle may have inadvertently saved Dick’s life.
They must not have noticed when she stopped lifting the weight. (It wasn’t safe to without a spotter anyways, right?) Dinah settled on flipping her towel across her shoulders, sitting there to keep an eye on the situation. After a few minutes, Dick poked his head around to say hi to which she snorted and waved back. No sense in interrupting them, things were getting too interesting.
When they hit the floor, Dinah almost slid off the bench, hand tight over her mouth to stifle the roaring laughter that she almost let loose. That was, until Jason bit Dick. She stood, ready to pull them off each other but they split on their own. It almost seemed like the fight was over, but Dick brought up the Robin thing and she knew from Jason’s reaction, it was time to step in.
“Alright enough! I cannot believe you two.” She turned to Dick. “I thought you would have more sense than to clearly pick a fight with him, especially when he’s wounded.” Jason’s smug look vanished when it was his turn. “And you! Did I not just go through this conversation with you and Kyle? Are you deaf, or did you develop amnesia since yesterday?” Dinah had her hands on her hips in that way that told people she was serious. “And biting? I thought you boys were trained better than that.”
“Jay, I—” Dick cut himself off when Dinah spoke up. He stared at the ground sheepishly at her admonishment. He really needed to get his brain to start working before his mouth started talking, but apparently that was not something that was going to start happening any time soon.
“I’m sorry, Jason.” He glanced up at Dinah. “And, sorry Dinah. I just…wasn’t thinking.” He rose onto his knees, offering a hand to Jason.
“Truce?”
Jason scowled at them both. It was one thing for Dick to start a fight - it was one thing for Jason to continue it. The family was… family, for one. And he had to fight all out with the Family because well, they could be incredibly ruthless (Thanks B.). but…
It was only because Dinah was there, and he was supposed to listen to her while on the Tower (since Kyle dropped him like a motherfucking hot potato) and she had been nice enough.
(Dinah was tough enough to put up with B’s and GA’s shit, was on the JLA with the lot of them, AND hadn’t tried ‘talk to me huh’ therapist bullshit with him so he could be nice. For now)
He took Dick’s hand, pulling him in close. “Don’t think that this means I won’t fucking hand you your ass for that,” he snapped, because apology not accepted.
The raw burning fact that he was no longer Robin, he’d died and therefore had no more rights to it - no more rights to his old identity in any way - hurt. Burned like burning.
Fuck.
She smiled, placing her hands on top of their joined hands. “See, that wasn’t so hard. Now, seeing as I’m the only one who got a workout done, I think I’ll be heading out.” She pulled her hands away, starting towards the door. “If someone should need anyone to talk to, I’ll be in the cafeteria. Someone should stop by later.”
Dick followed the momentum, letting himself stop gracefully in front of Jason. Under less tense circumstances, he would have enjoyed the proximity. He met Jason’s glare evenly.
“I wouldn’t expect it to,” he said, a slight smile in his eyes. ”But that can wait till you heal, hmm?”
He looked at Dinah as she spoke and smiled broader at her. It was nice to think that maybe someone was looking after his little brother—someone he wouldn’t immediately attack.
Jason glared at the faint, almost bat-smile in Dick’s eyes, and scowled harder at the brilliant smile he gave Dinah.
because of course Dick’d play nice in front of other people, Dick’d be nice and shit when there was other people…
(Even though he knew that Dick was always nice. Almost always nice, ‘cept when they were alone in the streets of Gotham and Dick called him a little street punk, and under THAT Jason could hear ‘street trash’ and knew that Dick would always be better, than Jason could ever be. Always accepted…)
“Wait till I can give your ass a real kicking,” he said, yanking his hand back as soon as Dinah’s back was turned, hissing his words at Dick.
“I’ll make sure I’m ready,” Dick said, trying to inject a little friendly banter into what was left of the conversation, as much in vain as that seemed. He took a half-step closer unconsciously, concern back in his eyes.
“You know, Jay, if you wanna talk…. It’s not like I’m going to go running to tattle to Bruce.”
Jason didn’t quite freeze, as Dick - the suicidal, stupid idiot who didn’t know when to quit -
Except it meant that dick hadn’t given up, won’t give up, stubborn stupid fool maybe he’d still care enough…
- took another half-step closer, into Jay’s space, his eyes all concern and.
Pity, He didn’t want fucking pity.
Jason stepped pointedly BACK, away, from him. “As if I cared if you’d go tattling to Bruce,” he snapped, and then gave him a vicious, half smirk, mostly snarl. “You’d need to pin me down to fucking talk. Cause I’m not gonna go down to it willingly.”
Dick’s mouth twitched into a half-smile at the idea. ”We’ll see about pinning when your arm’s better.” Recognizing Jason’s full attempts at ending the conversation, Dick walked back to his bag, grabbing it and heading over to the rings.
“And, you know, you really should let us heal that. I mean, you are already here, and it’ll make our next spar come that much sooner.” His playful teasing was back and he hoped Jason would lighten up now that there was some distance between them.
Jason scowled at him, his ears going just a bit red at that. Though Dick probably didn’t even get it. Big Bird could be exceptionally dim in some ways, or maybe he just didn’t want to know.
“Pffft, you think I want to swan around with a cast for six weeks?” He didn’t want to take pity handouts from anyone.
And yeah it was biting him in the ass right now, but he was a stubborn, stubborn fuck.
maybe if Dinah suggested it… but she probably wouldn’t. SHe wouldn’t because she didn’t pity him, unlike Dick. hell, Bruce probably would do it for some, nefarious Bat-reason and logic that Jason’d gotten out of the mansion for.
(except Jason hadn’t left the mansion willingly, he’d just never gone back .he… he just -)
“maybe I would if superman or something offered it, but not if it’s from you, big-bird.”
Because Jay was an ungracious little shit.
Dick hoisted himself up on the rings, balancing himself as though in an invisible armchair. He chuckled softly at the nickname.
“Would you really? Because I’m sure he would if he thought you’d accept.”
That, and Dick could always go and ask Clark to offer it. Being an adorable fanboy had its advantages.
“Yeah if it’s superman,” Jason scoffed, and did NOT look admiringly at the way Dick’s muscles moved, and the easy, fluid way Dick moved on the rings, the way he had had to work long mONTHS to even get halfway to looking anything like fluid.
“Not that he won’t, and I won’t take fucking pityshit from anyone. So there.”
Dick flipped and spun, enjoying the strain of his muscles working. The Watchtower gym always felt so good. He smiled from the workout and the fact that Jason was still there, still talking to him. Even if he wouldn’t let Dick hug him, he hadn’t left, and that could be good enough for Dick…for now.
“You know he wouldn’t pity you, right, Jay? You know, concern is not the same as pity.”
“Pffft, it’s practically the same,” Jason said, eyes narrowing. It was.
Everytime Dick was like this, in his element, he always looked so gorgeous, and carefree.
Fucker.
he had his knives but… hm. He slipped out some of the ‘rangs he had - modified ones he had made himself, so they weren’t as good as Bruce’s or Nightwing’s shit, but they would come back when he threw them.
And tossed them at Dick’s arm, right where he was holding the rings.
He was coming out of a flip, catching himself cleanly on a ring, when he caught the movement of something flying very fast toward him. Dick launched himself into a backflip, the projectile narrowly missing his hand as he spun, and landed in a crouch on the mats below. His eyes glinted and he smirked up at Jason playfully.
“Ready to spar already, little brother?”
Jason caught his ‘rang, and flashed him a feral smile that was mostly teeth.
“Awww where was that, concern and pity just now about my poor little broken arm? Now you wanna fight. What if you break my other bits, Dickie-bird?” Jason said, mock-frightened, and he tucked away his ‘rang.
“I can take your ass with one hand behind my back.” Then made a gesture. “Well look here, I don’t even have to do any tying.”
“I’ll tie you *both* the fuck up if I have to,” they heard somebody say. Somebody who sounded like … Bruce with a cold, maybe?
But no, it was just Green Arrow, glowering at them from inside his hooded costume. He pointed at Jay. “You! Turn in all your knives, right now. RIGHT now. And any other sharp objects you’ve got on you.”
GA spared a stern glance at Nightwing. “I’ll get to you in a minute.”
Jason started, and his hand fluttered protectively to the hilts of his knife. “What? WHY. So all of you can take another whack at me? Fuck no!”
Dick stood up, smiling in spite of Oliver’s tone. ”It’s alright, GA. He wasn’t gonna hurt me. Much.”
Ollie held up a hand to forestall Dick’s assurances. “Jason.” His voice stayed at the same gravelly pitch, which was just good enough an impersonation of Bruce — in tone if not timbre — to keep the birdboys off-balance. “You are up here, on the Watchtower, on recognizance. Do you know what that means?” He took a step closer to Jason, looming. GA and Batman were pretty close in size.
“It means that if you want to stay here and enjoy some of the freedoms and benefits that being in the Watchtower grants you, and have your peers and fellows treat you with respect like a goddamn grown-up—” he leaned in, close enough so Jason could hear him when he dropped the volume on his voice, “—you need to follow some fucking rules.”
Ollie looked over at Dick, and although his face didn’t change, he gave him one deliberate wink. Turning back to Jason, he held out a gloved hand. “Give them to me. All of them.”
Jason gaped a moment, feeling an odd, warm shiver down his back, just like if Batman had just -
Fuck.
He had two of his knives out before he thought to protest. “But that wasn’t in any of the fuckign RULES! There wasn’t any fucking rules! And none of them said I had to give away my knives- I am not going to be fucking defenseless here!”
How was it HIS fault that he got hammered into a fucking tree, knives or not? he hadn’t even pulled them on Kyle!
Dick unconsciously adjusted his posture to the one he used around Batman. He knew when to keep quiet sometimes—thanks years of training by intimidation—so he contented himself with watching Jason’s reaction.
At Ollie’s wink, Dick allowed himself a quick half-smile, trying to force his brain to remember that, no, this wasn’t Batman and you can calm down, thank you very much.
Ollie had learned a few things about the Bat-Clan a long time ago, and first on that list was that all boy-Robins — he’d only met the girl Robin once, which was a shame, because she’d seemed a lot like Mia — snapped to it like good little soldiers when an older man used an authoritative voice on them. It was something he thought was funny at first (never worked on Roy, either, who’d just laugh and possibly flip him off), but the more he thought about it … the more he didn’t really want to dwell on the whys and wherefores.
Still. Useful knowledge to have, especially dealing with *two* of the tweety-types. Dick was still as beautiful and obedient as he’d always been, the fluid alert stance of his bringing Ollie back forcefully to the time they’d paired up and gone looking for Deathstroke. Superheroes had some very salacious office-culture, so to speak, and Nightwing the walking wet dream generally ducked in and out of the #1 spot on that list. Even the straightest of the straight guys had to give it up: the kid was gorgeous.
Ollie tore his gaze away from Dick and softened his hulking, intimidating posture a bit when he refocused on Jason. “I don’t believe you’d be defenceless without these knives,” he said. “I don’t think there’s a helluva lot of situations in which you’d be defenceless at all.” He twirled the knives idly in his fingers; they had a satisfying heft to them, lovely if you didn’t actually *look* at the things and see how poky and prickly they were decorated. Ollie’s mouth twitched as he held back a smile; the knives were a lot like their spiny little owner.
“I bent the rules for you, Jason,” he said, more gently than before. “No other probationary member of SeRVE is allowed even the most innocuous of weapons. I let you have these because … hell, never mind why because. Let’s just acknowledge that I should’ve stuck to the rules myself.” He ducked his head a bit, catching Jason’s sullen gaze. “We clear?”
Jason bit back the almost automatic, ‘yessir’, and scowled harder, dropping his head in an almost-nod, gaze sliding away from Ollie’s. “whatever,” he mumbled, feeling…
Almost small, like a chastised schoolboy. “Take them, ain’t like I need them.”
As Jason relented and Oliver changed his tone, Dick felt that urge to move kick in again. The spell of the Bat-voice broken, Dick was chomping at the bit to come closer. He made a step and a half before Oliver caught his eye and Dick froze. Smiling anxiously, too full of nervous energy at being still so long (a whole thirty seconds, at the most), he practically vibrated.
“So, we all good now?”
Jason twitched at the movement out of the corner of his eye, but even so he was eying Ollie. “Yeah, that’s all you had to say, GA?” he said, trying not to hunch too much.
Ollie dropped the knives into his quiver where they’d be safe from prying little Jason-hands, then skimmed his hood back and grinned. “Yeah, all good,” he agreed, scruffing the back of Jason’s head. “Now that Red Hood here is being cooperative and saving us all a lot of knife-induced leaks in our anatomies. Eh, kid?” Ollie tugged Jason’s ear, then turned to Dick.
Grinning wide, he threw his arms open. “Haven’t seen you in ages, Grayson!” he hollered, grabbing Dick up in a bear hug. “We worked together some while back,” he explained to the still-sullen Jason, who was watching with dark, shadowed eyes. “Your bro here took on Deathstroke in an unusual display of hot-headedness,” Ollie grinned at Dick, to show this was no big failing as far as he was concerned, “—and I fought this guy who was, what, thirteen feet tall?”
He didn’t wait for Nightwing to confirm, just nodded, satisfied with his own legend. “Ex-Robins make pretty good partners,” Ollie noted. He raised his chin at Jason. “Maybe sometime you could come out patrolling with me, just like Dickie here did.”
Dick smiled and returned the hug just as fiercely.
“Yeah, he was something like that,” Dick muttered, laughing. He still wondered why Roy didn’t like working with Ollie. Even in the few years the two had lived together, Roy never really wanted to open up about that.
“You really should, Jay. It’s a good learning experience.”
Jason blinked a little, and shook himself like a dog, straightening up, folding his good hand…
fuck, he couldn’t do that without looking like a sad little boy whose arm got broke.
He shoved his hand into his pocket instead. “I’ll take my learning experiences as they come,” he said, in an almost sneer, but the way Ollie’d hugged Dick… and scuffed Jason’s hair with affection…
It was stupid to feel warm about that, to want more.
He scowled harder.
Ollie quirked his mouth to the side, looking at Dick, then Jay, then back at Dick.
“Just look at the little punum on ‘im,” he said seriously to Nightwing, then dove towards Jay, grabbing his chin between strong, rough fingers and wagging it. “Like the whole world got popsicles and he got the stick!”
Dick bit back a laugh, but moved slightly toward the pair. He knew how much Jason didn’t like to be manhandled, especially by someone outside the family. Pinning him in a hug was one thing, but touching him while he still had a free hand? Possibly not so smart.
Then again, it was Ollie, and he never really seemed to worry about things like that.
“skdjfhsdjf!” Jason flailed, and tried to flail backwards. “shuddup! That’s not what I have - shuddup! Stoppit!” he scrunched his face HARDER.
Finally taking mercy on him, Ollie stopped the pinching and put one big hand on Jason’s shoulder, shaking it companionably. “Aw, come on, kid — I promise I won’t tell anybody if you break down and, y’know, have something approaching fun for a split second. Or two, if you feel rambunctious.” He gave Jay a schoolteacherly look. “I mean, even the squarest Robin of all … what was his name, Tim? … even Timbo was able to cut loose and make jokes about, oh, I dunno — night-vision scopes and Doric architecture, once in a while. And Dick, well, Dick’s more fun than a barrel of monkeys. And also rum. In there with the monkeys.”
“Besides,” he added, “Big, Dark and Humourless is sight unseen. You can afford to loosen up some.”
Dick laughed fully at that. ”Plus, rum just makes everything fun,” he added, stepping closer to the two of them, relaxed and happy.
“What do you say, Jason? Wanna relax?”
Jason gave him a wary look. He would have shook out from under Ollie if it weren’t for the fact that Ollie had draped his arm on his shoulder from the cast-arm side.
“Pfft you just want me to get drunk on your pissy rum and painkillers,” he said, still, sulking from losing his knives.
“Theeeeere’s a sweet lad,” Ollie said, jostling him. “But anyways, boys — much as your Uncle Ollie would love to stay and play drinking games with you that I would win by a landslide, I’ve got other obligations to attend to.” He picked up the quiver he’d dropped near the free weights, slinging it over one shoulder with a jaunty salute.
“Dick, we’ll need to sit down together one day and catch up. I betcha got a shitload of new, fancier moves than the last time I worked with you, and the stories to go with them.” He clapped Dick’s arm, then pointed at Jason. “And you, hoodling — I might just have to relieve Black Canary one day and take you on a job myself. If you’re very good. Or very bad, I haven’t decided yet.” He laughed, then headed out of the gym.
“Well fuck you, I don’t need to be taken on like a job,” Jason muttered, but not very loudly, and all but scuffed his boot against the floor.
Hmph.
“Good to see you, Ollie,” Dick said, smiling back at him. ”I’ll make sure we do that.”
As Oliver left, Dick turned back to Jason.
“You know, the rum thing might not be too bad of an idea.” His eyes glinted with mischief as he tossed his hair out of his face. ”Of course, if you can’t handle it, that’s OK. I understand. Not everyone has a good tolerance for things.”
“What? I have a perfectly good tolerance for fucking rum, I drink vodka all the fucking TIME,” Jason snapped, scowling HARD at the mischevious look in Dick’s eyes. “Don’t be a jerk-ass, I can drink you under the fucking table.”
“Is that a challenge, Littlewing?” Dick asked, taking a step forward, his smile turning a little more cocksure.
“Yeah, you chicken?” Jason snorted, jerking his chin up, his posture getting more challenging and aggressive. “I can drink you under the fucking table. I .. hell I’ll even bet I can!”
“Oh, yeah, Jay?” Dick took a swaggering step up to meet him. ”What are we betting?”
“You lose,” Jason just stared UP at him, meeting his look with equal swagger, “And you get me back my fucking knives.”
“And if you lose,” Dick said, grinning ear to ear, “you’ll let me cuddle you whenever I want.”
He stuck his hand out, keeping Jason’s gaze.
“Deal?”
Jason snorted and grabbed Dick’s hand in his own, squeezing the warm, almost rough calloused palm with his. “Yeah, deal.” He smirked at him. “You’re gonna go down Dickiebird!”
“Good,” he said, not releasing the grip. ”My room or yours? I can get the booze, no problem.
“Fffst, mine is next to Kyle Fucking Rayner’s. Yours,” Jason said.
“Yikes. Alright. Meet you there in…half an hour?” Dick smiled cheekily. ”That should give me plenty of time to round up plenty of booze.”
“Yikes. Alright. Meet you there in…half an hour?” Dick smiled cheekily. ”That should give me plenty of time to round up plenty of booze.”
“And to prepare for your loss,” Jason said, smirking. “Where is your room anyway?”
“As if,” he replied, grinning harder. ”Down the left corridor of the quarters, third door on the right from this direction. It’s the one with the unpacked bags; you can’t miss it that way.”
“Hah, you won’t be so confident!” Jason said, starting to go for it.
And while Dick wasn’t there… he could TOTALLY go through Dick’s shit.
In the name of brotherly love. Well, some of his shit. Possibly his clothes, just so he could laugh at Dick’s fashion choices.
Not that he was weaponless without his knives anyway - he had his gun and his tranq dartsandtranq-gun but…
Knives were a lot easier to pick up again, and less likely to blow a hole in the hull.
The gym was a spacious room two floors under the arborteum, with all the equipment a superhero with both super and non- superpowers could possibly desire.
And some fascinatingly strange ones too - which Jason had a suspicion were meant for some of the less Earthling JLA members.
Jason’d found the gym by his fucking self, because Rayner had frankly just abandoned him in the arborteum (No he was not thinking about that kiss, not about the weird warmth or anything), and Jason was NOT going to do any picking up of any fucking plants because he’d practically bared his soul (almost. kinda, he’d told him something that no one else had heard before,even though it hadn’t been that much of a secret, the secrets Jason had, he wouldn’t tell anyone not so easily) to Kyle Fucking Rayner who had fucking just decided he wasnt worth the effort to even let down easy.
Or hell, tell him he kissed badly. Or he didn’t like the taste. Or he didn’t want to. Or … even”hey can’t we just be friends” like all those shitty, stupid sitcoms.
No, of course not. He’d just run awaylike Jason Todd, Red Hood, Dead Robin Walking was the worst thing ever on earth to even look at, let alone kiss.
Jason snarled at the target and flung his last knife, imagining it stabbed Rayner in the FACE.
Fucker.
Fucking bastard.
One of his knives was knocked loose; wobbled and dropped out of the mangled target - which had been a dart-board. It wasn’t much of one now.
Jason stomped over to it and yanked out all of the knives, putting them back into his sheaths.
Fucking. Asshole. Well it wasn’t like he was here
Dinah had just entered the gym in time to see his last throw. The angry way he stomped towards the target, not yet realizing she was there. His shoulders were hunched up, fury obvious in every tensed muscle. She almost laughed when she saw his teeth bared in a snarl, imagining a feral lion. The thought of him growling was too much.
“Whoever pissed you off clearly had no idea who they were messing with.” Dinah moved forward with careful steps. If Red Hood decided to turn those blades on her, she’d be ready to dodge them and take him out. As it was, she was more hoping just to talk, maybe even spar. “So do I have to guess what happened with Kyle or will you make it easy for me?” It had to be Kyle that he was so frustrated with. It wasn’t the first time they’d gone at each others’ throats.
Jason stilled even MORE at the sound of her voice, the careful soft clicks of her heels against the gym floor, and he scowled, made himself relax, pointedly. His broken arm ached, and he was already in a foul mood. But he pulled the blades free and holstered the last few, spinning one light knife in his fingers.
“It’s none of your business, Canary,” he said, finally, because she was carefully non-aggressive, non-hostile (thought that might change) and maybe he hsouldn’t let her approach too closely. The concussive force of her scream would probably hurt at this close if she decided he was a a danger…
But she probably wouldn’t. Not all the JLA had the same particular standards as Batman (and they all certainly weren’t Kyle Fucking Bastard) so.
“What did you want, BC?”
“So you haven’t heard?” Dinah stopped walking, noting Jason’s unease at her growing proximity. “Gree- Kyle asked me to take more of his shift with you. Seeing as he already had a SErVE member he was watching over and found that having two was too much.”
There was only a flash of it on his face. A slight twitch of hurt at her words. But Jason had been trained by the Bat, and before she knew it, it was gone. “I’m going to be in charge of your time here. If you need anything, you can come to me. The whole point of you being here is to help you.”
Oh. Of course. That was subtle of Rayner. Very subtle.
At least he hadn’t just off and told Black Canary about why he didn’t want to have Jason as a … whatever it was, whatever this was, he’d given her some vaguely respectable reason.
Even if it was a fucking bullshit reason but.
Jason’s jaw clenched, a moment. “I don’t need help, BC.” He didn’t. He’d come here because he’d been invited. just because Batman didn’t approve didn’t mean that the others would, of him, particularly and.
Fuckit. “I’d like to be alone.” he gestured at the dead dart-board. “for target practice. Have to keep it up , before someone breaks my other arm.”
Dinah sighed, dropping her arms to her sides. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, Jason. Fortunately, this is a free space. Not even your bad mood can deter me from getting my training in.”
Dinah moved to the other side of the room, taking up a position in front of one of the larger punching bags. She’d warm up with her punches and kicks before moving on to some of the weights.
Jason eyed her warily, expecting her to… well. something. Have a brooding angry, sucking silence or something that’d guilt him into responding. into saying something.
But she didn’t do that. She just… started working on her training. Calm and… whatever it was, it wasn’t brooding.
He huffed, tossed his knife twice in the air, automatically catching it by the handle even though he was glancing at Dinah, warily.
Hmph. She seemed to mean what she said.
He tucked the knife back into his sheath, and poked the dart-board till it was rotated about 90 degrees before walking back about thirty feet.
It took some effort to maintain the angry i’m going to stab Kyle’s face, in the presence of someone like Black Canary, but Jason was stubborn, and he’d WORK at it.
She quickly made her movements rhythmic. It was easier to focus on the slightly volatile young man. Thunk Thunk Thunk. Her fist repeatedly struck the bag. Her ears followed his steps. He seemed to have lost his rage. That was what she had been hoping for. If she’d learned anything from listening to Connor talk about zen and meditation, it was that on focused and healed in a calm state of mind.
The familiar tingle that ran up her arms when she did this for too long arose. Like with each time before, Dinah pushed past it. Not enough to hurt herself, but a little more than the last time, which was more than the time before that. Finally, Dinah stopped swinging her arms, taking a deep breath, propping herself up to balance on her right leg, kicking her left out in a series of rapid strikes, repeating on the other leg.
Her punching the bag was, well, rhythmic. Thunk, thunk thunk. Then kicking, with a slightly different sound, alternating .
If Jason focussed on the sound, he could guess which leg she was using - Right, right right right, then left left left left, then right again. It was oddly relaxing to breathe in tandem with that - feel the tingle in his own arms to throw his knives in tandem too.
but he was a contrary little bastard nad was NOT going to do that.
He deliberately threw his knives in an off-set pattern. 1-2-3, then another, then 2 at once.
Dinah stumbled as the sound of his knives broke her concentration and rhythm. With a small sigh and a smile, she turned on her heel, watching Jason nonchalantly toss more blades.
With a roll of her eyes, Dinah forsook the bag, moving to the weights located much closer to Jason than she had previously been. She shrugged off her leather jacket and removed her heels. Flat on her feet, she was better coordinated. She started small, as always, working her muscles with steadily increasing weight.
Jason smirked when he heard the bag swing, the chain creaking a little under the weight but with no answering thump of a kick or punch.
Heh.
He spun his next knife, closing his eyes, and listened - ah, he could hear the rustle of clothing, and she was closer to him now, with the very faint sound of weights settling - then mostly silence. Her breathing wasn’t laboured, just there.
Jason grinned and tossed his next knife, hitting bullseye.
he COULD go over there and benchpress some few hundred pounds worth or something, just to be a jerkass, but hey, this was a free workout space, right? He could just retrieve his knives. He normally would have switched hands by now, but… his smile faded.
Fuck you Rayner.
He’d gone back to his rhythmic throwing, this time more angry. He was getting frustrated again.
Dinah held her hands together, holding the coupled weights above her head and moving them down to her waist and back up again. Under the harsh lights in the training room, she could feel the warm beads of sweat rolling down, from her hairline, down her neck, her back, sliding into her uniform. With a groan, Dinah set the weights down, pulling her hair together in a ponytail to let the limited air flow more over her skin. ‘Damn it was too hot in here.’
And yeah he’d lost concentration just enough to end up tossing his last knife. All his knives.
Fuck. Jason exhaled and stormed over again, yanking out his knives with a little more force than necessarily, and if it weren’t for the cast getting in his way, he might have sliced his arm open.
Yay thank god for the goddamn cast.
Then he spun around and.
Well okay so Dinah was sweating, pink with exertion, wet down her back, and… girls sweating had a slightly different smell to guys sweating, somewhat lighter.
He wouldn’t say more pleasant, or anything, it was just - that’s what girls sort of smelled like and this is what guys sort of smelled like.
It also meant she was really, really just here to work out, and not bothering him to talk or…
“Ffst,” he exhaled and slouched down to a bench. “I can spot you on the bench press if you want.”
“Oh? And here I thought the Red Hood wanted to train alone. Not that I’m complaining.” Dinah set the weights down, smirking at him. The growl that was aimed at her only made her laugh. She swung an arm towards the bench. “If you still want to.”
She grabbed a towel, drying off some of the sweat that had worked it’s way across her skin. Satisfied, Dinah selected a few of the weights to add to the bar. She then lay on the bench, drying her hands one more time before reaching up to grab it.
Jason stood behind her head, and she only assumed that his eyes were following the up and down movement of the weight.
“I’m training alone,” Jason scoffed, making sure he was watching the weights, and her arms. “This is being considerate. and making sure that you don’t drop weights on your head.”
There was always something nice about the Gym. Maybe the fact that it was the Gym, but Dick always felt he had the best workouts when he got to use it. Running through his mental list of what he wanted to do, he didn’t realize there were other people working out until he heard a familiar voice.
Jay?
He set his bag down gently, the Bat silence working in full. There was Jason, his errant little brother, spotting for who looked like Dinah. Dick did a once-over for knives; good, they were back on the bench. As he moved forward, he noted the cast—another safety. Arms extended behind him, he crept up on the pair, making sure to stay in Jason’s blind spot and on the side of the good arm; Jay couldn’t do much with the other one, he figured.
“Jason!” he shouted, and threw himself at his brother, pinning the younger man’s good arm to his chest, wrapping himself around him as much as was humanly possible.
Jason did NOT scream - he will shoot you if you say he did later. SHOOT YOU - and tried to twist away. Twist up and maybe KNEE THE FUCKER in the groin.
But his arm was pinned, his knives were ALL GONE and he couldn’t reach his gun and ohfuck it was Dick Fucking Grayson, he of the hug-o-matic. “Let GO of me you fucker! Get OFF what the hell you wangbadan!”
Dick laughed loud in Jason’s ear, calmly moving with the other boy. Dick’s body was like water. Really, really strong water.
“I think you’re taller than the last time I saw you. You’ve still got the mouth, though,” Dick scolded. ”Be careful. Alfred will wash your mouth out with soap if you swear like that at the Manor.”
He giggled again as Jason twisted and writhed in his grasp.
“Uh-uh, baby bird! You’re not going anywhere. Just relax and enjoy the hug.” He tightened his grip just a little, just enough for Jason to get the hint. ”So, tell me about the arm. And hi, Dinah. Don’t mind us.”
“Like FUCK I’m going to the manor, ARGH get OFF me!” Jason tried to jab him in a nerve cluster under his ribs but Dick moved like a goddamn snake, and jason couldn’t get a proper jab in.
Especially with the fact that he had his broken up, hindering him. He tried to kick Dick in the kneecap. “I’m not your baby ANYTHING. hnnnnng!”
stupid dick and his stupid hugs. Dinah probably thought they were both crazy.
Jason was going to bite Dick if his face came any closer.
“Not until you calm down and say you missed me.” He squeezed a little tighter. ”I missed you~”
The dodging and moving was fine until the kick. In order to avoid busting a kneecap, he twisted and shifted his weight, but misjudged the distance between Jason’s foot and his own calf. The sharp pain main Dick tighten reflexively, a small groan escaping through his clenched teeth. Trying to regain his balance, he leaned bodily against Jason.
“See, now that just wasn’t nice, Jay. I’m just trying to be a good brother.”
“Like fuck I missed you, I did NOT miss anyone!” Said the lying liar. Jason kept kicking and twisting and managed to hook his foot to the back of Dick’s ankle and down they both went. Fortunately he didn’t jar his arm, because Dick was his cushion.
HAH.
Also served Dick right, trying to lean ALL HIS WEIGHT on him.
Asshole.
Even if he smelled incredibly good (but Dick always did, the jerkface), a hint of city-night and kevlar, Jason was not going to stop struggling.
“You’re a jerkass brother,” he snapped, because Jason couldn’t stop snarling like a feral puppy when he was surprised and made to take hugs he didn’t explicitly ask for.
So there.
With a yelp and an “oof!”, Dick hit the ground with the solid weight of his brother on top of him. As much as that was not at all in his original hug plan, Dick realized what a lovely advantage it actually provided him. Wriggling just enough, Dick wrapped his legs around Jason, effectively pinning him on top of Dick.
“You’re so cute when you’re angry, Jaybird. Hey, is that new shampoo?”
“I am not -” Jason growled, annoyed. With one arm out of commission, he couldn’t do much to pin Dick , and he couldn’t quite roll out of his fucking hold.
He wriggled so they were face to face so he could fucking SNARL at Dick. “Stop smelling my hair you freak!”
Which was, of course, when he realised that the position was probably NOT the best.
Damn. It.
Fuck his life.
Dick’s smile could not be bigger if he tried. He could give the Joker a run for his money right now, with how hard he was smiling.
Oh, Jay.
“But you smell so good,” he said, snickering. He nuzzled Jason’s cheek, ghosting a teasing kiss against his skin. He laughed as Jason wriggled again, and tightened his clutch.
“You know, the last time I was in this position and called a freak, it was under very different circumstances.”
Jason went very, very still because.
He’d had crushes on Superman before, and GA, a little, he’d had a terrifying dream of Batman ONCE. JUST ONCE, and after a gruelling day of being thrown around the sparring mats the next day by the man himself Jay had gotten over it.
THIS though. This was different. It wasn’t even the same, ‘i have a lust for you’ he had for kyle Rayner.
This was the guy Jay had been afraid would come back to take the suit, who had called him a punk and thrown him off a train, who had run the Gauntlet before him and maybe thought he was okay with it, given him the suit, and hated him and resented him and was fucking good at his job, made wise-cracks and right now was fucking nuzzling his FACE.
in public!
well in front of Dinah.
Jason tried to elbow him, but to do that he’d have to break his own elbow to do it.
Fuck. Fuck his life.
He could feel his face go very, very red, his casted arm pinned between their bodies, and the way Dick’s legs were wrapped around his waist and tight and his pelvis (yes, pelvis, not.. anthing else. no. not thinking) pressed up tight against his own and.
He was not doing thiiiis. He wasn’t!
He growled and chomped down onto Dick’s shoulder.
Dick smiled into Jason’s cheek when the younger man went still. He pressed his nose into his face a little more and opened his mouth to tease him again.
The yell that came out of Dick was not at all too slight in its resemblance to that of a wounded animal. Of all the things Dick thought Jason might do, biting into his shoulder like he wanted to eat him was not on the list. Well, OK, it was there, but it wasn’t as high up as it turned out to be.
“FUUU…rrrrghe,” Dick half-swore, his reflexes of censoring himself from living with a young child kicking in. Punching Jason in the shoulder blade, Dick let go of Jason as much as he could, letting his legs flop to the side. He left his right arm clutching Jason’s back, afraid of pulling it away with Jason’s teeth still locked in him.
That really fucking hurt.
Jason grinned viciously, letting go and rolling off him.
Hah! Win!
“That’d teach you, dickiebird,” he crowed. It wasn’t like his teeth had broke skin.
Dick sat up and rubbed his shoulder, pouting. Jason had latched onto a good chunk of muscle there, and it was slowly starting to throb.
“That wasn’t fair, Jason. I was just giving you a hug.”
He glared over at his brother. ”I hope you’re happy.”
“I said i didn’t want no hugs,” Jason said, and he was not going to be affected by that damn huge pout.
Or glare.
He was IMMUNE. He’d given Batman his own fair share of huge eyed pouting, so he’d be able to resist Dick’s.
“What happened to just saying ‘hi’ like a normal person, Dickhead?” Where were his knives? With his knives Dick wouldn’t try to hug him again.
Even though for several warm seconds, it had been nice. To be wanted, to have that affection.
He could feel thin threads of regret at pushing Dick away (This time, it might be the last, Dick might not try to hug him again, or want to spend time with him again, except Jay didn’t want to spend time with him anyway, Jay didn’t NEEED time to be spent with. shuttup), but shoved it ruthlessly away.
he awkwardly holstered his knives to his side where his cast got in the way, and pointedly ignored Dick’s pout like a particularly ruffled cat.
Dick’s pout increased when he realized Jason wasn’t paying attention.
“You never actually said that,” he totally did not whined. He spun around on the floor to face Jason, crossing his legs. ”Anyway, a hug is a perfectly valid way of saying hi to a person. Just because you’re weird and don’t like it, doesn’t mean it’s bad.”
What was even happening to him? Dick felt like he was a kid again, lecturing someone on how to play nice in the sandbox.
Oh god, he was. Well, that was just awkward.
Clearing his throat, Dick tried to regain some dignity. ”So, what happened to your arm?”
“You’re whining like a brat,” Jason pointed out. “And you KNOW I don’t do good with surprise fucking hugs, YOU are the weird one, you fucking hug-spider.” He strapped on the last of his knives, all his armour back in place.
There. Hug-proof.
It’d take some serious EFFORT to strip him of his weapons now. He settled his good hand on his belt - if Dick tried he’d shock the fuck out of him. hah.
“Got hammered into a wall.” he said, shortly.
He couldn’t help himself from snickering at “hug-spider”.
“You have such a way with words, Jason,” he said, smiling up at him. He watched him put away his knives and armor up. It was going to take more work than Dick was willing to spend right now to get in another hug. That was OK.
Dick can be patient.
He winced in sympathy pain. ”Yikes. How long’s that gonna take to heal?”
“Well it’s not like they’re gonna waste Kryptonian tech on a criminal like me would they?” Jason said, with a scowl. All armoured up, safe from hug-attacks. Safe from everyone.
(Because no one would bother to try and peel him out of his armour anyway.)
(not that he needed it. He didn’t want it.)
“So the usual of course.” He sneered a little, standing up, straightening. “Six weeks. Clean break at least, but it’ll be hell for the rehab.”
Dick’s expression softened into sad concern.
“Jay…I’m sure no one would mind you healing quicker. I mean, since you’re here, you might as well get treated. You’re still a Robin, Jay.”
It took about two seconds longer than it should have for Dick to realize that maybe wasn’t the best thing to say.
Well done, Grayson.
Jason stilled like a very pissed off tiger.
“I am not Robin,” he snarled, low, soft and dangerous, teeth bared and anyone else looking might see him BRISTLE with his knives. Sleek and dangerous. His eyes narrowed behind the mask - only vigilantes who knew how to read people behind masks like this would have noticed - his domino hid his eyes from view otherwise.
“I don’t need fucking pity from you, or from anyone else,” he snapped. He wasn’t robin. He wasn’t anything to Batman, and he didn’t need pity from his so-called family, and he didn’t need shit from this - this.
Anyone! Why the fuck was he here again?
She had tried to keep her face as normal as possible when Dick entered the gym. From what she had heard through the grapevine, Dinah knew there would be tension if the two former Robins met. For the first time since it happened, Dinah was glad Jason’s arm was broken. Kyle may have inadvertently saved Dick’s life.
They must not have noticed when she stopped lifting the weight. (It wasn’t safe to without a spotter anyways, right?) Dinah settled on flipping her towel across her shoulders, sitting there to keep an eye on the situation. After a few minutes, Dick poked his head around to say hi to which she snorted and waved back. No sense in interrupting them, things were getting too interesting.
When they hit the floor, Dinah almost slid off the bench, hand tight over her mouth to stifle the roaring laughter that she almost let loose. That was, until Jason bit Dick. She stood, ready to pull them off each other but they split on their own. It almost seemed like the fight was over, but Dick brought up the Robin thing and she knew from Jason’s reaction, it was time to step in.
“Alright enough! I cannot believe you two.” She turned to Dick. “I thought you would have more sense than to clearly pick a fight with him, especially when he’s wounded.” Jason’s smug look vanished when it was his turn. “And you! Did I not just go through this conversation with you and Kyle? Are you deaf, or did you develop amnesia since yesterday?” Dinah had her hands on her hips in that way that told people she was serious. “And biting? I thought you boys were trained better than that.”
“Jay, I—” Dick cut himself off when Dinah spoke up. He stared at the ground sheepishly at her admonishment. He really needed to get his brain to start working before his mouth started talking, but apparently that was not something that was going to start happening any time soon.
“I’m sorry, Jason.” He glanced up at Dinah. “And, sorry Dinah. I just…wasn’t thinking.” He rose onto his knees, offering a hand to Jason.
“Truce?”
Jason scowled at them both. It was one thing for Dick to start a fight - it was one thing for Jason to continue it. The family was… family, for one. And he had to fight all out with the Family because well, they could be incredibly ruthless (Thanks B.). but…
It was only because Dinah was there, and he was supposed to listen to her while on the Tower (since Kyle dropped him like a motherfucking hot potato) and she had been nice enough.
(Dinah was tough enough to put up with B’s and GA’s shit, was on the JLA with the lot of them, AND hadn’t tried ‘talk to me huh’ therapist bullshit with him so he could be nice. For now)
He took Dick’s hand, pulling him in close. “Don’t think that this means I won’t fucking hand you your ass for that,” he snapped, because apology not accepted.
The raw burning fact that he was no longer Robin, he’d died and therefore had no more rights to it - no more rights to his old identity in any way - hurt. Burned like burning.
Fuck.
She smiled, placing her hands on top of their joined hands. “See, that wasn’t so hard. Now, seeing as I’m the only one who got a workout done, I think I’ll be heading out.” She pulled her hands away, starting towards the door. “If someone should need anyone to talk to, I’ll be in the cafeteria. Someone should stop by later.”
Dick followed the momentum, letting himself stop gracefully in front of Jason. Under less tense circumstances, he would have enjoyed the proximity. He met Jason’s glare evenly.
“I wouldn’t expect it to,” he said, a slight smile in his eyes. ”But that can wait till you heal, hmm?”
He looked at Dinah as she spoke and smiled broader at her. It was nice to think that maybe someone was looking after his little brother—someone he wouldn’t immediately attack.
Jason glared at the faint, almost bat-smile in Dick’s eyes, and scowled harder at the brilliant smile he gave Dinah.
because of course Dick’d play nice in front of other people, Dick’d be nice and shit when there was other people…
(Even though he knew that Dick was always nice. Almost always nice, ‘cept when they were alone in the streets of Gotham and Dick called him a little street punk, and under THAT Jason could hear ‘street trash’ and knew that Dick would always be better, than Jason could ever be. Always accepted…)
“Wait till I can give your ass a real kicking,” he said, yanking his hand back as soon as Dinah’s back was turned, hissing his words at Dick.
“I’ll make sure I’m ready,” Dick said, trying to inject a little friendly banter into what was left of the conversation, as much in vain as that seemed. He took a half-step closer unconsciously, concern back in his eyes.
“You know, Jay, if you wanna talk…. It’s not like I’m going to go running to tattle to Bruce.”
Jason didn’t quite freeze, as Dick - the suicidal, stupid idiot who didn’t know when to quit -
Except it meant that dick hadn’t given up, won’t give up, stubborn stupid fool maybe he’d still care enough…
- took another half-step closer, into Jay’s space, his eyes all concern and.
Pity, He didn’t want fucking pity.
Jason stepped pointedly BACK, away, from him. “As if I cared if you’d go tattling to Bruce,” he snapped, and then gave him a vicious, half smirk, mostly snarl. “You’d need to pin me down to fucking talk. Cause I’m not gonna go down to it willingly.”
Dick’s mouth twitched into a half-smile at the idea. ”We’ll see about pinning when your arm’s better.” Recognizing Jason’s full attempts at ending the conversation, Dick walked back to his bag, grabbing it and heading over to the rings.
“And, you know, you really should let us heal that. I mean, you are already here, and it’ll make our next spar come that much sooner.” His playful teasing was back and he hoped Jason would lighten up now that there was some distance between them.
Jason scowled at him, his ears going just a bit red at that. Though Dick probably didn’t even get it. Big Bird could be exceptionally dim in some ways, or maybe he just didn’t want to know.
“Pffft, you think I want to swan around with a cast for six weeks?” He didn’t want to take pity handouts from anyone.
And yeah it was biting him in the ass right now, but he was a stubborn, stubborn fuck.
maybe if Dinah suggested it… but she probably wouldn’t. SHe wouldn’t because she didn’t pity him, unlike Dick. hell, Bruce probably would do it for some, nefarious Bat-reason and logic that Jason’d gotten out of the mansion for.
(except Jason hadn’t left the mansion willingly, he’d just never gone back .he… he just -)
“maybe I would if superman or something offered it, but not if it’s from you, big-bird.”
Because Jay was an ungracious little shit.
Dick hoisted himself up on the rings, balancing himself as though in an invisible armchair. He chuckled softly at the nickname.
“Would you really? Because I’m sure he would if he thought you’d accept.”
That, and Dick could always go and ask Clark to offer it. Being an adorable fanboy had its advantages.
“Yeah if it’s superman,” Jason scoffed, and did NOT look admiringly at the way Dick’s muscles moved, and the easy, fluid way Dick moved on the rings, the way he had had to work long mONTHS to even get halfway to looking anything like fluid.
“Not that he won’t, and I won’t take fucking pityshit from anyone. So there.”
Dick flipped and spun, enjoying the strain of his muscles working. The Watchtower gym always felt so good. He smiled from the workout and the fact that Jason was still there, still talking to him. Even if he wouldn’t let Dick hug him, he hadn’t left, and that could be good enough for Dick…for now.
“You know he wouldn’t pity you, right, Jay? You know, concern is not the same as pity.”
“Pffft, it’s practically the same,” Jason said, eyes narrowing. It was.
Everytime Dick was like this, in his element, he always looked so gorgeous, and carefree.
Fucker.
he had his knives but… hm. He slipped out some of the ‘rangs he had - modified ones he had made himself, so they weren’t as good as Bruce’s or Nightwing’s shit, but they would come back when he threw them.
And tossed them at Dick’s arm, right where he was holding the rings.
He was coming out of a flip, catching himself cleanly on a ring, when he caught the movement of something flying very fast toward him. Dick launched himself into a backflip, the projectile narrowly missing his hand as he spun, and landed in a crouch on the mats below. His eyes glinted and he smirked up at Jason playfully.
“Ready to spar already, little brother?”
Jason caught his ‘rang, and flashed him a feral smile that was mostly teeth.
“Awww where was that, concern and pity just now about my poor little broken arm? Now you wanna fight. What if you break my other bits, Dickie-bird?” Jason said, mock-frightened, and he tucked away his ‘rang.
“I can take your ass with one hand behind my back.” Then made a gesture. “Well look here, I don’t even have to do any tying.”
“I’ll tie you *both* the fuck up if I have to,” they heard somebody say. Somebody who sounded like … Bruce with a cold, maybe?
But no, it was just Green Arrow, glowering at them from inside his hooded costume. He pointed at Jay. “You! Turn in all your knives, right now. RIGHT now. And any other sharp objects you’ve got on you.”
GA spared a stern glance at Nightwing. “I’ll get to you in a minute.”
Jason started, and his hand fluttered protectively to the hilts of his knife. “What? WHY. So all of you can take another whack at me? Fuck no!”
Dick stood up, smiling in spite of Oliver’s tone. ”It’s alright, GA. He wasn’t gonna hurt me. Much.”
Ollie held up a hand to forestall Dick’s assurances. “Jason.” His voice stayed at the same gravelly pitch, which was just good enough an impersonation of Bruce — in tone if not timbre — to keep the birdboys off-balance. “You are up here, on the Watchtower, on recognizance. Do you know what that means?” He took a step closer to Jason, looming. GA and Batman were pretty close in size.
“It means that if you want to stay here and enjoy some of the freedoms and benefits that being in the Watchtower grants you, and have your peers and fellows treat you with respect like a goddamn grown-up—” he leaned in, close enough so Jason could hear him when he dropped the volume on his voice, “—you need to follow some fucking rules.”
Ollie looked over at Dick, and although his face didn’t change, he gave him one deliberate wink. Turning back to Jason, he held out a gloved hand. “Give them to me. All of them.”
Jason gaped a moment, feeling an odd, warm shiver down his back, just like if Batman had just -
Fuck.
He had two of his knives out before he thought to protest. “But that wasn’t in any of the fuckign RULES! There wasn’t any fucking rules! And none of them said I had to give away my knives- I am not going to be fucking defenseless here!”
How was it HIS fault that he got hammered into a fucking tree, knives or not? he hadn’t even pulled them on Kyle!
Dick unconsciously adjusted his posture to the one he used around Batman. He knew when to keep quiet sometimes—thanks years of training by intimidation—so he contented himself with watching Jason’s reaction.
At Ollie’s wink, Dick allowed himself a quick half-smile, trying to force his brain to remember that, no, this wasn’t Batman and you can calm down, thank you very much.
Ollie had learned a few things about the Bat-Clan a long time ago, and first on that list was that all boy-Robins — he’d only met the girl Robin once, which was a shame, because she’d seemed a lot like Mia — snapped to it like good little soldiers when an older man used an authoritative voice on them. It was something he thought was funny at first (never worked on Roy, either, who’d just laugh and possibly flip him off), but the more he thought about it … the more he didn’t really want to dwell on the whys and wherefores.
Still. Useful knowledge to have, especially dealing with *two* of the tweety-types. Dick was still as beautiful and obedient as he’d always been, the fluid alert stance of his bringing Ollie back forcefully to the time they’d paired up and gone looking for Deathstroke. Superheroes had some very salacious office-culture, so to speak, and Nightwing the walking wet dream generally ducked in and out of the #1 spot on that list. Even the straightest of the straight guys had to give it up: the kid was gorgeous.
Ollie tore his gaze away from Dick and softened his hulking, intimidating posture a bit when he refocused on Jason. “I don’t believe you’d be defenceless without these knives,” he said. “I don’t think there’s a helluva lot of situations in which you’d be defenceless at all.” He twirled the knives idly in his fingers; they had a satisfying heft to them, lovely if you didn’t actually *look* at the things and see how poky and prickly they were decorated. Ollie’s mouth twitched as he held back a smile; the knives were a lot like their spiny little owner.
“I bent the rules for you, Jason,” he said, more gently than before. “No other probationary member of SeRVE is allowed even the most innocuous of weapons. I let you have these because … hell, never mind why because. Let’s just acknowledge that I should’ve stuck to the rules myself.” He ducked his head a bit, catching Jason’s sullen gaze. “We clear?”
Jason bit back the almost automatic, ‘yessir’, and scowled harder, dropping his head in an almost-nod, gaze sliding away from Ollie’s. “whatever,” he mumbled, feeling…
Almost small, like a chastised schoolboy. “Take them, ain’t like I need them.”
As Jason relented and Oliver changed his tone, Dick felt that urge to move kick in again. The spell of the Bat-voice broken, Dick was chomping at the bit to come closer. He made a step and a half before Oliver caught his eye and Dick froze. Smiling anxiously, too full of nervous energy at being still so long (a whole thirty seconds, at the most), he practically vibrated.
“So, we all good now?”
Jason twitched at the movement out of the corner of his eye, but even so he was eying Ollie. “Yeah, that’s all you had to say, GA?” he said, trying not to hunch too much.
Ollie dropped the knives into his quiver where they’d be safe from prying little Jason-hands, then skimmed his hood back and grinned. “Yeah, all good,” he agreed, scruffing the back of Jason’s head. “Now that Red Hood here is being cooperative and saving us all a lot of knife-induced leaks in our anatomies. Eh, kid?” Ollie tugged Jason’s ear, then turned to Dick.
Grinning wide, he threw his arms open. “Haven’t seen you in ages, Grayson!” he hollered, grabbing Dick up in a bear hug. “We worked together some while back,” he explained to the still-sullen Jason, who was watching with dark, shadowed eyes. “Your bro here took on Deathstroke in an unusual display of hot-headedness,” Ollie grinned at Dick, to show this was no big failing as far as he was concerned, “—and I fought this guy who was, what, thirteen feet tall?”
He didn’t wait for Nightwing to confirm, just nodded, satisfied with his own legend. “Ex-Robins make pretty good partners,” Ollie noted. He raised his chin at Jason. “Maybe sometime you could come out patrolling with me, just like Dickie here did.”
Dick smiled and returned the hug just as fiercely.
“Yeah, he was something like that,” Dick muttered, laughing. He still wondered why Roy didn’t like working with Ollie. Even in the few years the two had lived together, Roy never really wanted to open up about that.
“You really should, Jay. It’s a good learning experience.”
Jason blinked a little, and shook himself like a dog, straightening up, folding his good hand…
fuck, he couldn’t do that without looking like a sad little boy whose arm got broke.
He shoved his hand into his pocket instead. “I’ll take my learning experiences as they come,” he said, in an almost sneer, but the way Ollie’d hugged Dick… and scuffed Jason’s hair with affection…
It was stupid to feel warm about that, to want more.
He scowled harder.
Ollie quirked his mouth to the side, looking at Dick, then Jay, then back at Dick.
“Just look at the little punum on ‘im,” he said seriously to Nightwing, then dove towards Jay, grabbing his chin between strong, rough fingers and wagging it. “Like the whole world got popsicles and he got the stick!”
Dick bit back a laugh, but moved slightly toward the pair. He knew how much Jason didn’t like to be manhandled, especially by someone outside the family. Pinning him in a hug was one thing, but touching him while he still had a free hand? Possibly not so smart.
Then again, it was Ollie, and he never really seemed to worry about things like that.
“skdjfhsdjf!” Jason flailed, and tried to flail backwards. “shuddup! That’s not what I have - shuddup! Stoppit!” he scrunched his face HARDER.
Finally taking mercy on him, Ollie stopped the pinching and put one big hand on Jason’s shoulder, shaking it companionably. “Aw, come on, kid — I promise I won’t tell anybody if you break down and, y’know, have something approaching fun for a split second. Or two, if you feel rambunctious.” He gave Jay a schoolteacherly look. “I mean, even the squarest Robin of all … what was his name, Tim? … even Timbo was able to cut loose and make jokes about, oh, I dunno — night-vision scopes and Doric architecture, once in a while. And Dick, well, Dick’s more fun than a barrel of monkeys. And also rum. In there with the monkeys.”
“Besides,” he added, “Big, Dark and Humourless is sight unseen. You can afford to loosen up some.”
Dick laughed fully at that. ”Plus, rum just makes everything fun,” he added, stepping closer to the two of them, relaxed and happy.
“What do you say, Jason? Wanna relax?”
Jason gave him a wary look. He would have shook out from under Ollie if it weren’t for the fact that Ollie had draped his arm on his shoulder from the cast-arm side.
“Pfft you just want me to get drunk on your pissy rum and painkillers,” he said, still, sulking from losing his knives.
“Theeeeere’s a sweet lad,” Ollie said, jostling him. “But anyways, boys — much as your Uncle Ollie would love to stay and play drinking games with you that I would win by a landslide, I’ve got other obligations to attend to.” He picked up the quiver he’d dropped near the free weights, slinging it over one shoulder with a jaunty salute.
“Dick, we’ll need to sit down together one day and catch up. I betcha got a shitload of new, fancier moves than the last time I worked with you, and the stories to go with them.” He clapped Dick’s arm, then pointed at Jason. “And you, hoodling — I might just have to relieve Black Canary one day and take you on a job myself. If you’re very good. Or very bad, I haven’t decided yet.” He laughed, then headed out of the gym.
“Well fuck you, I don’t need to be taken on like a job,” Jason muttered, but not very loudly, and all but scuffed his boot against the floor.
Hmph.
“Good to see you, Ollie,” Dick said, smiling back at him. ”I’ll make sure we do that.”
As Oliver left, Dick turned back to Jason.
“You know, the rum thing might not be too bad of an idea.” His eyes glinted with mischief as he tossed his hair out of his face. ”Of course, if you can’t handle it, that’s OK. I understand. Not everyone has a good tolerance for things.”
“What? I have a perfectly good tolerance for fucking rum, I drink vodka all the fucking TIME,” Jason snapped, scowling HARD at the mischevious look in Dick’s eyes. “Don’t be a jerk-ass, I can drink you under the fucking table.”
“Is that a challenge, Littlewing?” Dick asked, taking a step forward, his smile turning a little more cocksure.
“Yeah, you chicken?” Jason snorted, jerking his chin up, his posture getting more challenging and aggressive. “I can drink you under the fucking table. I .. hell I’ll even bet I can!”
“Oh, yeah, Jay?” Dick took a swaggering step up to meet him. ”What are we betting?”
“You lose,” Jason just stared UP at him, meeting his look with equal swagger, “And you get me back my fucking knives.”
“And if you lose,” Dick said, grinning ear to ear, “you’ll let me cuddle you whenever I want.”
He stuck his hand out, keeping Jason’s gaze.
“Deal?”
Jason snorted and grabbed Dick’s hand in his own, squeezing the warm, almost rough calloused palm with his. “Yeah, deal.” He smirked at him. “You’re gonna go down Dickiebird!”
“Good,” he said, not releasing the grip. ”My room or yours? I can get the booze, no problem.
“Fffst, mine is next to Kyle Fucking Rayner’s. Yours,” Jason said.
“Yikes. Alright. Meet you there in…half an hour?” Dick smiled cheekily. ”That should give me plenty of time to round up plenty of booze.”
“Yikes. Alright. Meet you there in…half an hour?” Dick smiled cheekily. ”That should give me plenty of time to round up plenty of booze.”
“And to prepare for your loss,” Jason said, smirking. “Where is your room anyway?”
“As if,” he replied, grinning harder. ”Down the left corridor of the quarters, third door on the right from this direction. It’s the one with the unpacked bags; you can’t miss it that way.”
“Hah, you won’t be so confident!” Jason said, starting to go for it.
And while Dick wasn’t there… he could TOTALLY go through Dick’s shit.
In the name of brotherly love. Well, some of his shit. Possibly his clothes, just so he could laugh at Dick’s fashion choices.