Chapter Text
Sometimes it’s hard to reconcile the life he knows to the life he’s living. It’s disorienting how much has changed and it’s overwhelming when he thinks about what he’s overcome to get here. There was a time where life was nothing but struggle; nothing but heartache, anguish and grief. It was being hurt. It was being hurt again and again until he couldn’t bear it.
But then he saw a boy on a trapeze; he heard Robin’s laugh. He had a baby in his arms, small and warm where their hand patted his face.
Jason’s endured terrible things, but he’s also been given hope in spades. In his first life, in his second–enduring, just like him. Life can be good; Jason knows to enjoy it while it lasts.
Hence him lounging poolside beneath the shade of umbrellas and palm fronds, book in hand and listening with half-an-ear as Damian and Jon play a spirited game of keeping an inflatable ball from dropping on the water, an increasingly dramatic and violent affair. He’s the picture of relaxed. He doesn’t have a care in the world.
Only he does, because Dick sits cross legged on the lounger next to him, forlorn as he watches the kids play without him. There’s so much doom and gloom around him that it may as well be blocking the sun; even the refreshing breeze seems to go stagnant around him.
Without looking up from his book, Jason stretches his leg out and drops his heel to rest on top of Dick’s knee to stop its restless, relentless bouncing. He can feel the active effort Dick makes to contain his fidgeting, the energy that seems to thrum beneath his skin.
From his peripheral Jason watches how Dick tracks the ball as it floats from one side of the pool to the other, the small smile that pulls at his lips when Jon makes a dramatic leap through the water because Damian plays dirty and knocks the ball behind him instead of forward in Jon’s general direction.
“Foul, foul!” Jon calls out, his voice carrying over the splash of water and Damian’s unfettered cackling. That Jon connects the hit is a feat of strength that leaves water sloshing over the edge of the pool in waves, but what’s more impressive is how the inflatable ball doesn’t pop when Jon smacks it clear across the pool. Petty revenge is Jon’s when he bodily blocks Damian from reaching it, laughter loud and exaggeratedly evil before it becomes choked, his head dunked under water while Damian protests his interference.
Mirth sparks bright in Dick’s eyes, warm and fond as he watches Jon come back up for air, immovable despite Damian’s efforts until Jon lets himself be pushed under again with a wide, toothy grin.
“You should go in if you want.” Jason says.
Dick looks over his shoulder and flashes him a sheepish smile, “That wouldn’t be fair to you.”
Because Jason can’t, in good conscience, go swimming. It doesn’t matter that the pool is empty save for them, there’s nothing appropriate going on beneath his top and while Dick might not know the extent of the havoc he’s wrought, he knows enough from the glimpse he got that morning – Jason is not safe for public viewing, especially when the public includes their kid and said kid’s peeper farm boy friend.
It’s a sweet sentiment, but entirely unnecessary. He’d expect nothing less from this martyr of a man.
“I’m having a great time,” Jason scoffs, moving his foot from Dick’s knee to shove at him instead. A rough encouragement to go away and do what he wants, “Get lost.”
The way Dick smiles at him is nothing short of brilliant. All the sunlight he’d scared away with his stormy attitude comes back in full force, so dazzling that Jason feels blinded by him. A nonissue, given how Dick’s shirt comes to smack him in the face; an effective shield against this fucker’s magnificence.
“You sure?” Dick asks him.
Jason twists Dick’s shirt up and whips him with it, a sharp crack that Dick narrowly avoids and that makes him laugh. He titters, “That a yes?”
“I’ll push you,” It’s a threat and Dick takes it as such.
“Next time,” Dick tells him as he steps back towards the pool, cheeky when he throws the threat back at him, “When I can drag you in with me.”
It’s a challenge, an invitation. Dick’s just signed himself up for a vacation full of needing to be wary around all bodies of water. Despite the menace that lights up Jason’s eyes or the foreboding smirk he wears, Dick’s expression softens to something impossibly fond. “We’ll see about that,” Jason snickers, idly folding Dick’s shirt before tossing it onto the other lounger, “You’re in for it now, big bird.”
“Counting on it.” Dick drawls, tone dulcet and drawing a shiver up Jason’s back.
He waits until Dick is turned away, calling out to the boys before jumping in after them to curl in on himself – book raised to cover his flushed face, hiding out to give himself a second to calm his heart. That felt more flirtatious than playful. They were flirting, weren’t they? It’s so similar to how they usually are that Jason doesn’t know, but it felt different. Jason hits himself lightly with his book to try and ground himself. It’s just because they slept together that Jason is reading into things, surely. It’s just his crush giving him a rose-tinted view of everything.
The fluttering in his chest steadies when Jason looks over his book and sees how Dick plays with the kids – taking each and throwing them, launching them into the air for them to fall back into the water; steadier still when Jon pounces and does the same to Dick. A breath of laughter escapes him at the strangeness of the sight, at Dick’s surprise because it’s easy to forget this feisty, pure-hearted kid is stronger than any of them.
Content, Jason goes back to reading his book, the sounds of Dick and the boys horsing around becoming white noise. It’s an easy way to spend the day. Pleasant, even when one of the punks hits the ball at him and it bounces harmlessly off his head and back into the pool. Convinced as he is that it’s Dick, Jason can’t put it past Jon to be getting back at him for their earlier row of confessions and the ensuing blackmail that came from it. That awful poker face from before is back and Damian doesn’t look amused by either of them, so Jason figures Dick and Jon were in cahoots. Menaces.
That’s how their afternoon continues. Noisy, rambunctious, but peaceful for how decidedly normal it is.
It’s when the consistent noise of Dick and the boys goes away that Jason looks up from his book. He expects to see them floating about, taking a break, but instead he sees the pool is endlessly more crowded. Mostly women, all of which congregate near Dick both in and out of the pool. They seem oblivious to Dick’s fake smile and feigned interest. He tries extricating himself multiple times, only for people to get handsy and keep him back.
Common a happening as it is, it never stops being irritating. While Dick might have patience for it though, Jason doesn’t, so he sits up in his lounge chair and contemplates what would be a more intimidating deterrent – Jason, himself or Jason sans shirt to show everyone that Dick is more than they can handle; that he’s got his vacation fling locked in and his name is Hot fucking Toddy.
He’s already turned his cap backwards and set his book down when Dick turns and gestures to him. The dirty looks Jason is given coupled with the disappointment makes him feel smug. There are still a few that look ready to throw down with a challenge though, so Jason, petty as it is, lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat from his brow for the sole purpose of flashing all the naysayers with kiss bruised pecs and bandaged nips.
That even Dick gapes at him, wide-eyed with awe, is embarrassing. He can’t even be certain that his show scares off the crowd because it’s Dick who leaves them, hopping away through the water to where Jason waits on the other side of the pool. The reaction bolsters Jason’s ego in a way it shouldn’t, given Dick is just using the out, but still. Jason lets it get to his head for just a moment – baring his teeth at the other poolgoers in a biting smile and waggling his fingers at them, taunting and vindictive.
They’re on vacation anyway. Not like they’ll see these people again. That besides, what’s some fucking around between brothers?
While Dick comes to hang off the edge of the pool, Jason scoots forward on the lounger until he’s sat at the end, closing the distance between them. Dick’s a sight with his arms crossed on the concrete, hair pushed back and water beading along his skin, but it’s the charm in his smile that makes butterflies swoop in Jason’s stomach.
“Hey,” Dick says.
“Hey.” Jason calls back, stretching his leg out to bump Dick’s arm.
It’s just them. While they’ve been together all day, Jason feels it most in this moment – caught beneath the weight of Dick’s full attention; like there’s something electric just beneath his skin that sparks alive when Dick grabs hold of Jason’s ankle and pulls him closer. His toes curl at the press of Dick’s thumb over his ankle bone, the loose hold he keeps on Jason’s foot.
“Sure you won’t come in?” Dick asks, uncaring for the people that look after them; unapologetic in choosing Jason instead of anyone else.
“You trying to get my top off again?” Jason jokes, leaning forward on his knees.
“After that?” Dick snickers and drops his head to rest on his arm, “Can’t blame a guy for trying, Hot Toddy.”
It should embarrass him – it would, usually. The callout, the nickname, but all Jason sees is the unbridled mirth in Dick’s eyes, his smile. It’s contagious. Dick’s confidence is a dangerous thing and Jason is swept away by it, a smile of his own tugging at his lips. He snickers, pulling his foot away to half-heartedly kick Dick away, complaining at him to shut up.
Over the years Jason has learned to enjoy the good things while they last, so he holds on to these moments. He thinks Dick may hold on to them, too, for how his touch lingers and his gaze stays steady, unwavering.
Life can be good, Jason remembers. It can feel like wonder, like magic.