Chapter Text
If Dick is shocked to wake up to Jason in his apartment, he doesn’t show it. He should be, given that Jason has been avoiding the bats like the plague recently and hasn’t spoken with Bruce in months. Instead, he just looks over at the disgruntled looking boy (and he does think of him as a boy), and smiles his bright, show-stopping, you-can-trust-me-I-would-never-hurt-you smile.
“Jay! What a surprise.”
No response, although Jason does bring his knees up to his chest. He’s kind of pathetic looking, kind of adorable. Some things, apparently, don’t change.
The bags under his eyes are new, though. Concerning too.
Dick just shrugs and moves into the kitchen, getting out a pan. Time for communication attempt number two. Pitching his voice up so that it can be heard in the other room, he asks “You still like hot sauce on your eggs?”
Once again, nothing.
It’s okay, it’s not like this is the first time this has happened.
Jason always used to do this when he had something to say but didn’t know how to say it. All of his hyper dramatic “I really think you should stop fucking me,” moments would start this way too.
Considering that’s not a thing anymore, Dick figures this must be an example of the former.
His patience pays off, when while he’s still standing at the stove, stirring, he hears Jason begin. “Everything’s different now. Robin, obviously, but also Bruce and Gotham and just...everything.” He takes a gulping breath in and it sounds like he’s about to start crying.
He manages to gather himself, and continues, “Not you though. You’re still the same terrible asshole you’ve always been. You’ve gotten better at hiding it, maybe.”
Dick just smiles and tilts his head to the side, taking in what’s happening. He should be offended, maybe. But, if after everything he’s made Jason do and has done to him the worst Jason has to say is calling him an “asshole” then he’s counting that as an absolute win.
Jason’s earnestness right now is surprising, as is the fact that he’s choosing to be alone with Dick in the first place. He’s consistently avoided this very scenario ever since he’s gotten back, and now, suddenly, he’s putting himself straight in the middle of it.
Whatever it is that’s happening right now, Dick figures he might as well see how far he can push it. He has the vaguest inkling of knowing that Jason is under the influence of something right now, although he doesn’t know what or even how it is that he knows. He finds that he doesn’t mind quite as much as he knows he should.
He turns off the stove and heads to the couch Jason is sitting on, carefully plopping himself down two cushions away from him. It’s far enough that they’re not touching, but close enough that that could quickly change.
Dick figures that there’s no time like the present to start working on getting his perfect boy back, and although he assumes that he’ll automatically be rejected, Dick grabs a pillow and puts it down in his lap, softly patting it in invitation.
Jason looks surprised for a moment, but he puts his head down against the pillow and moves the rest of his body to accommodate that, so that he’s almost fully horizontal and facing the inside of the couch now, facing Dick.
It’s flattering and sad and so very Jason that he still would go down like this, despite everything.
It’s like they’re back in time. Back to when Dick had a mullet instead of the actually manageable haircut he has now. Back when Jason was still Robin and Bruce couldn’tcouldn’tcouldn’t know (“Go on and tell him, Little Wing! He’ll want to be involved, sure, but he won’t stop me”).
Well, it’s almost like that. Jason’s too big now to be able to lay down properly on the couch. He doesn’t have any of the room the corner cushion sitting to the right of Dick, absolutely empty, would have allowed him.
Jason is trying to fit himself into a position he should have grown out of, and Dick is making no move to shift so that he can be in it comfortably.
Dick has the vague idea that that might be more true then either of them had expected before today, before Jason broke into his apartment to tell him things he already knows.
Even Jason seems a little confused, as though he doesn’t know what he’s doing here.
However, Dick stroking his hair seems to set something off in him, and he begins babbling, obviously self conscious. Getting no answers from the person you’re trying to talk to tends to have that result.
“You-you still would if you could, right? If I couldn’t fight you and win now.”
Dick stops his gentle petting, instead grabbing just one short curl and pulling. Not as hard as he could, but getting there. “You wouldn’t win.”
He pulls it taunt and lets go, only to do it again. “But, yeah. I would. I probably will.”
Jason doesn’t even flinch. He just nods and wiggles his head a little, snuggling into the pillow.
Dick huffs out a breath, taking the hand not already in Jason’s hair and bringing his finger to Jason’s nose, tracing across an outcrop of freckles, darker and more concentrated at that spot then anywhere else on him.
At least, he’s assuming it still is. Besides Jason himself, who even knows what the pit changed? He’s excited to find out.
He’s a little surprised at Jason’s lack of response though. Surely, most people would have an opinion on being told they’re going to get fucked, but Jason just seems to accept it.
“Seriously? You don’t have anything to say about that?”
Jason sighs, and it’s only morning and Dick literally just woke up, but he sounds so tired that Dick almost suggests taking this conversation into the bedroom.
Eventually, he responds, “I think you broke me. I know that sounds like some shitty drama show dialogue, but when I was with Roy I just couldn’t-.”
Dick can’t help but cut him off, and he also can’t quite keep the anger out of his voice. “You were with Roy?”
Jason responds to anger with anger, as he always has. “I was. You didn’t even know and you still ruined it.”
His tone is harsh, but after Dick doesn’t respond, Jason crumbles. “I mean, kind of? Don’t be mad at him.”
Dick shushes him.
“Now, why would I be mad at Roy? We both know he has issues controlling himself, and you’re a desperate slut who’d give it up for anyone who’s willing to have you. I’m not angry with either of you. It’s alright. Sure, I’m a little disappointed you didn’t come to me, but we both know you need someone to fill you up and I wasn’t there. Don’t worry, little brother, I promise I will be from now on.”
“That isn’t what I-,” Jason cuts himself off, seemingly realizing only now that Dick is committed to misunderstanding him. When he finally opens his mouth, all he says is “I hate you.”
“Sure you do, Little Wing. Is that why you came here? To tell me how much you hate me? Something tells me that wasn’t quite your motive.”
Jason doesn’t respond, just keeps his eyes closed and takes deep breaths. It’s at that moment that Dick realizes that all he’s wearing is just a pair of boxer shorts, having been awoken from sleep so suddenly earlier that he still hasn’t changed. It’s also at that moment that he realizes he can feel Jason’s warm breath on his dick through the thin fabric.
It shouldn’t be, but it's kind of inexplicably hot, the way that stuff Jason does always is.
Regardless of how good this feels, he’s always hated when Jason gets this way, all non-responsive and boring. Also, he doesn’t need a damp spot in his underwear this early in the morning if Jason isn’t willing to follow through, and something tells him he should hold off if he actually wants Jason back for good.
With that in mind, he whacks his brother on the back of his head. “C’mon, get up! I made breakfast for us. You look like you could use it.”
Jason just grumbles, seemingly committed to keeping his eyes closed for as long as possible, and Dick smacks him again, a bit harder this time. “Hurry up! What’s wrong with you? Did you stay out too late patrolling last night?”
Jason finally lifts his head and then sits up, seeming to not notice how much closer he’s now sitting to Dick then he was before.
“I couldn’t sleep. I just can’t when I’m alone and it’s not like I can exactly go and tell Bruce ‘you never even tried to avenge me and I’ve almost killed you before, but also could I sleep in your bed like a little kid?’”
Dick snorts, “God, you’re sure he wasn’t fucking you? Not even a little?”
Jason rolls his eyes and bites out, “Of course he wasn’t. Not everyone’s a fucking degenerate like you.”
“Yet you came back to me and not to him. Things to reflect on, little brother.”
“Whatever,” Jason says as he leans back into the couch and grabs the blanket that’s hanging over its edge. He wraps it around himself and then he and Dick finally move into the kitchen, where some now cold eggs and toast await the duo.
They sit at the table and eat together and for once, Dick is silent. That is, until he isn’t.
“So you’re kind of messed up, huh?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, all the better for me, I guess. You have anything to do today? Any Red Hood-sibilities to be meeting?”
Silence. It’s getting annoying.
Sometimes (okay, a lot of the time) Dick jus wants Jason to shut the fuck up and not make any sounds unless they’re grunts or screams or moans, but he can’t believe that the one time he’s trying to make civil conversation Jason is choosing to just not respond.
What an asshole.
Dick gets up out of his chair and walks over so he’s standing behind Jason, and then he puts his hands on Jason’s shoulders and presses, leaning down and putting most of his body weight into it.
“Jay, I’m serious. Considering the fact you’re just hanging around in my apartment while I’m not even conscious, I think I deserve to know some things. First of all, why are you here? What. Do. You. Want?”
Jason seems to actually think it over before he swallows and opens his mouth.
“If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t be here, would I?”
Dick smiles freely at that, knowing that Jason isn’t able to see it without twisting his head in a way that’s frankly impossible. It’s wide enough that his mouth almost hurts and he looks to all the world like a cat that got the canary.
“Oh? I bet it’s probably hard having to walk around and pretend to know what you’re doing all the time, isn’t it? I know it’s easier for you if I make all the decisions around here. Don’t worry, I can do that. I’m just happy that you remember and I didn’t have to remind you.”
Jason sighs, “That isn’t what I meant, dickhead and you know it.”
Dick starts massaging Jason’s shoulders, digging his thumbs in harshly enough that Jason can’t possibly ignore the pressure.
“Are you sure it isn’t? Because it feels like you came here all by yourself for a reason. Since you clearly don’t know what it is, let me enlighten you. You need someone to hurt you and tell you what to do and no one else is willing to do that except for me. So you came crawling back to your big brother and you want me to take care of you, the way only I can. Am I getting warm yet?”
“I-That’s not...that isn’t what I wanted.”
“Really? So if I go right now to drop off some documents at the station, you won’t be here when I come back?” Jason doesn’t respond, he just slumps over in the chair a little, hunching in on himself.
“You want me to treat you like an actual person and not a stupid little boy? Then leave. Something tells me you won’t. But, if that’s really how it is, then we should talk after that stakeout Bruce is planning. ”
With that, Dick grabs his plate, puts it in the sink, leaving the kitchen to go to his bedroom, where he puts on clothes. He doesn’t even bother to close his door while doing so.
When he comes back out, Jason is still sitting in the chair, now leaning forward with his forearms on the table and staring forward kind of blankly. Dick waves his hand so closely to his face until he can’t ignore it.
Moving his head back, Jason says “Stop it, you asshole. I’m thinking.”
“You’re thinking?” Dick replies, “that sure is a new one.”
He runs his hand through Jason’s hair one last time and ends the conversation.
“Hope your noggin’ leads you in the right direction. I’ll be seeing you.”
Dick exits the apartment, putting on a warm jacket, and as he does so he looks back over his shoulder one last time, yelling, “Wash the dishes while you’re here!”