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It's an accident, honestly. Dick doesn't even really think about it. It just… sort of happens.
He's out on a stake-out with Jason, crouched down on the edge of a rooftop. For once, it's not raining, so it's not an absolutely miserable experience, even if it's still tedious and boring.
And it's stupid, really. It doesn't even have to do with the gang they're supposed to be watching. Dick just… sees a dog across the street.
He reaches over, and puts his hand on Jason's shoulder to get his attention. Just like he would Tim or Damian, Steph or Cass. Hell, even Bruce. He reaches over, and puts his hand on Jason's shoulder, and points towards the dog with his other hand.
But Jason goes absolutely stiff under Dick's palm, as if Dick's just handed him a live grenade, rather than pointing out something cute.
And Dick doesn't know why Jason's stiffened up, why Jason's gone absolutely still next to him, like he's not even breathing, but Dick's trying to be a better brother to Jason, so he just… Pulls his hand back.
"Cute girl at your four o'clock," he forces out, even as he buries his hand beneath his thigh, in a pathetic attempt to make it seem like he's trying to keep warm.
Jason stays completely still, like a goddamn statue, next to him for what feels like forever, but is probably only ten or fifteen seconds. Then his body slowly relaxes, as he seems to come back to life.
"Leave it to you to be into girls with collars," he says, but while the words are right for Jason trying to poke fun, the inflection, the timing is all… off.
But Dick forces himself to smile anyway. But before he can come up with a response back, Jason's pulling himself to his feet.
"Target approaching. Ready?"
Dick pops to his feet himself. "Absolutely. Let's blow this popsicle stand."
Things go well. They get their target, bundle him off to the GCPD, and Jason disappears somewhere between the station, and the Clocktower. Which… isn't entirely unusual, if Dick is being honest.
But he can't stop thinking about it. As he makes his way back to the one safehouse he still keeps in Gotham -because he's tired, and doesn't feel like dragging himself back to Blud for a shower -he keeps thinking about Jason's reaction.
Because Dick hadn't even grabbed him. Hadn't wrapped his fingers around Jason's arm, or pulled him at all. He'd just… set his hand on Jason's arm. Like he'd done dozens of…
He frowns as he climbs in through the window, careful not to trip on the linoleum floor. Has he done it dozens of times? Has he… He wracks his brain, trying to recall a single time he's just casually reached out and touched Jason.
Two years, Jason has been back, and tentatively working with the family. Two years, and Dick can't recall a single time he's just… casually touched Jason.
He does it with everyone else. Hell, he even does it with Bruce, a hold over from the days when things between them were better, half-hugs and arm pats as leftover remnants from the days of hugs and using Bruce as a climbing post.
But he can't recall a single time in over two years that he's just… touched Jason. Just casual hugs and pats on the back and all the little things he does with everyone else. And the more he thinks about it…
He can't recall a single instance of anyone touching Jason, outside of controlled sparring matches. Which is… It's not just an accident, because honestly? After so long together, patching up injuries, getting locked in small closets on stakeouts, and the cave's single shower room… None of Dick's assorted siblings and psuedo-siblings understand the idea of personal boundaries.
They're all constantly touching each other. Even Damian's gotten in on it, now that he understands the crop-dusters, and random poking isn't an insult, but a way family teases.
So the fact that Dick can't recall a singular time anyone's touched Jason, over two years… That none of their friendly teasing, their awkward hugs and shoulder pats, their wrestling on particular boring stakeouts have ever included Jason is…
It's intentional. But not actually intentionally intentional. Right? Because Dick… It's not that he make sit a point to not touch Jason. He just… hasn't. For… two years.
That can't be right. Dick wouldn't just… not.
He pulls himself upright on his couch. This isn't acceptable. It's not… Dick doesn't know why they've gone two years like this, but it ends tonight.
It doesn't take him long to get out of his suit, and into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and and a hoodie. This isn't a 'Nightwing' thing, it's a 'Big Brother' thing, and he's gonna go as a big brother.
Jason only has so many safehouses he goes to when he gets in a 'mood'. Obviously Dick doesn't think he knows all of Jason's hidey-holes, anymore than Bruce knows about all of Dick's, but Jason is a creature of habit, at the end of the day. When he's upset about something, or he wants to truly relax, he goes to one of two apartments.
Dick checks the one in Otisburg first, mostly because it's closest. It doesn't really surprise him to find the place empty, and he only gives it the most cursory glance before he heads off towards Chelsea.
He knows, even if Jason doesn't, why Jason chose to settle down here. Chelsea is home to Gotham University, and the area is populated mostly by students, or professors. Jason fits in here, to the small but comfy apartments, to the duplexes and triplexes rented out by older couples who lived there before the university was even built.
He fits in here. He doesn't look out of place. Nobody questions a college aged kid coming and going all hours of the night, just gives sympathetic smiles, assuming night classes or an overnight job to pay for day classes.
And sure enough, when he parks his motorcycle on the side of the street, in front of the little building with only five apartments… Jason's light is on.
He knows it will raise some eyebrows -and maybe, in a nice neighborhood like this, a phone call or two to the police -but he climbs up the fire escape towards Jason's second level apartment.
Mostly because Dick knows his brother well enough to know that Jason won't let him in the front door. Jason won't even pretend to not be home, he just… won't answer the door. So he climbs the fire escape, and carefully makes his way to Jason's window.
And he just… watches, for a minute. Because Jason is… he's sitting at his table, a book in front of him, and he's just…
He's rubbing his left arm with his fingers. Slowly, almost hesitant, trailing the fingers of his right hand over his left arm.
And Dick can't remember the last time he touched his brother before tonight. Can't remember the last time he hugged his brother.
Because Jason doesn't like hugs, right? Jason… doesn't like to be touched. He pulls away, if anybody even gets past his scowl and glare to invade his personal bubble.
When was the last time Dick's little brother had a goddamn hug? When was the last time somebody touched Jason outside of sparring, or medical care?
Dick is still wracking his brain, trying to come up with a single instance to prove himself wrong, when Jason's head jerks up. The thoughtful, pensive look on Jason's face is instantly replaced by a glare that has Dick offering an embarrassed little wave.
Jason doesn't stop glaring. He glares like if he does it hard enough, Dick will spontaneously burst into flames. The way Dick's feeling, that might be a theoretical possibility.
But Dick's never been one to wait for an invitation. Especially when it's obvious from all the glaring that Jason's not going to extend one. So instead, Dick moves away from the railing, and starts opening up the window, hoping that Jason would at least do Dick the courtesy of warning him if whatever traps he's got on it are strong enough to maim.
To Dick's surprise though… there's no electric shocks, no blaring alarms, no laser lights. It… seems to just be a normal window. A window which Dick opens, and climbs through, until he's standing in his brother's apartment.
"Uh… Hey, Jay," he says, realizing that, for all he's thought about the situation, he hasn't given any thought to what he's going to say.
Hey, little brother, has anybody given you a hug recently?
Hey, Jaybird, anybody slapped you on the back and said good job in the last two years?
Hey, Jason, you really seemed freaked by the fact I touched your arm, when was the last time you've had physical human contact?
While all perfectly valid internal questions, they're not questions that will get Dick an answer, or allow him to give his brother a hug.
Conversely, however, he's also aware enough to know that just… giving Jason a hug will probably result with a broken nose, or broken rib. Depending on what kind of mood Jason's in, maybe a gun barrel to the gut to help prove his point.
"What do you want, Dick?" Jason demands, putting that extra special little emphasis on Dick's name to let Dick know that Jason isn't using it as his name at the moment, but calling him a dick.
Dick rubs the back of his neck to buy himself a few more seconds to think. But really… he doesn't have any good options here. So he decides to go with as much of the truth as he dares.
"I was… I was worried about you. And I just… I wanted to stop by and… give you… a… hug," he says slowly, watching Jason's hands and feet for any on-coming signs of a punch or a kick.
"You… want to give me… a hug," Jason says flatly, tone matching his eyes.
"Yeah," Dick says, trying to sound confident, and not like a person about to get punched in the face. "I was worried about you, and so I drove over here to-"
"Yes."
"-give you… a…" Dick stops, staring at Jason for a few seconds, blinking. "Yes?"
Jason gives him a tense nod, almost like Dick's clarifying that Jason does truly want to be shot, instead of agreeing to a hug.
Which is why Dick is cautious when he takes a step forward. Because Jason could still absolutely punch him in the face, and this is a repercussion for just grabbing Jason earlier without asking.
"Um… just to clarify," Dick says slowly, risking another step closer. "That's a 'yes, you want a hug', right?"
Jason nods again, still tense, but he doesn't say anything. Dick takes one more step closer, and he's close enough now, if he stretches, that he could theoretically wrap his arms around his little brother.
But he hesitates again. "I just want to make sure that this is… you're doing this because you want a hug, not because you want to pay me back for something or -"
Dick can immediately tell he's made a mistake. That in worrying about a broken nose, he's pushed Jason too far, as Jason's face goes hard, and his eyes go cold.
"Never fuckin' mind," Jason spits out. "Why the fuck are you really here, huh? Who the fuck put you up to it? Somebody guilt you into it? Tryin' to get a laugh outta the other brats? This some kinda -"
Dick cuts him off, by glomming onto him like the human octopus Damian accuses him of being. He wraps his arms around Jason's shoulders, and before Jason can pull away, Dick pulls him closer, until Jason's chest is pressed against Dick's.
And Jason's stiff for a few seconds. Stiff as if he doesn't know if he wants to struggle to get out of it, if he wants to throw Dick across the room, or if he wants to melt into it.
Dick decides not to give him a choice, and wraps his arms tighter.
"I'm sorry, Little Wing," he says quietly. "I didn't… You can always have a hug from me. Whenever you want one, whenever you need one. Okay?"
Jason doesn't say anything back. But his arms slowly -hesitantly -come up, and gently wrap themselves around Dick's middle.
Dick isn't sure how long they stay like that, before Jason mumbles something that Dick can't quite make out.
"I… sorry, Jay, I didn't hear that," he says quietly, still not loosening his grip.
But Jason picks his head up a little bit, so he's not talking into Dick's shoulder, although he doesn't pull back enough to let Dick see his face.
"I… you hug everybody else. But you never…" His voice trails off. Quiet. Sad. And Dick feels his heart break.
He could say a dozen things. That Jason always looks as prickly as a hedgehog on a bad hair day. But so does Damian. And Dick still hugs him.
He could say that Jason always gets nervous looking whenever Dick starts getting touchy-feely. But so does Tim, and Dick still hugs him.
He could say that Jason has never asked for a hug. But neither has Cass. And Dick still hugs her.
He could say that Jason always makes a big show of being fine. But so does Stephanie. And Dick still hugs her.
So instead, he says the only thing he can.
"I'm so sorry, Jay. That's on me. And I'm sorry."