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Jason smacked the clothing hanger against his pillow over and over. He hated his life. Everything was going fine for once until somebody had to come and ruin it. A giant, stupid, dumb somebody that was coming over for dinner tonight and was very not welcome if it was up to Jason.
He couldn’t believe he used to actually like Clark. When he used to come over and play video games, he actually tried to win, unlike Bruce who just smashed buttons until Jason got annoyed and told him to screw off. And he could pop popcorn with his freaking eyes. Jason would get excited when Clark was coming over. Back before everything went to shit.
Jason shoved his head into the pillow, but he could still see the memory of them sitting across from him at the dining table:
Bruce had used his serious voice—the one that he barely ever used anymore because Jason got all weird and squirmy when he did—and said "Jason, Clark and I wanted to talk to you about something…" followed by one of the top ten worst things Jason had ever heard. They were dating.
It had taken everything in him not to start crying. But he didn’t. Not until later that night when nobody was around. He’d cried for like, an entire hour, thinking about how much he hated Clark and his stupid fake smile and the way he’d said "I know this might be strange, but I care about your dad a lot. And I care about you too. Nothing has to change.” like Jason was some goddamn idiot.
He had to grind his teeth together not to say something like “Nothing has to change? Great! Then get the hell out of here and never come back!”
He thought Bruce was one of the smartest grown ups ever but clearly he was wrong. He was falling for the same crap everyone else did. That night, Jason promised himself, for the hundredth time, that he’d never grow up to be an idiot like everybody else.
Obviously Clark was still being nice to him, it hadn't even been a month. Mom told him that Dad was nice for a long time before he got all 'like that'. And Mom was even good at keeping quiet and being nice. Bruce was stubborn and cranky and Jason had heard the way Batman talked to Superman when he was in a mood. Clark wasn’t going to let Bruce talk to him that way now that they were dating and he wasn’t even sure Bruce knew that because he never dated anybody.
That was gonna be an ugly lesson.
Jason flipped himself around and lay on his back, dangling his head off the end of the bed.
It had been two weeks since that talk and nothing Jason had tried was working. He knew he had to be smart about what he said. The last time he asked Mom if they could run away, she locked herself in the bathroom and cried all night. She only opened the door once to tell Jason to bring her the bottle of clear stuff on the counter. Jason, like the brat he was, said no and she started making such a horrible crying noise that he was pulling the chair across the floor to reach the counter before he could even think.
The sound started to play in his brain and he stuck a finger in both ears, poking over and over to get the memory out.
Anyways, the point was, he knew he couldn’t just tell Bruce not to date him. He tried over and over to get it through Bruce’s head how gigantic Clark was but stupid Bruce kept assuring him it was a good thing, that it was because Clark always ate his vegetables, and it made him a stronger superhero.
Jason almost felt sad for him. Bruce didn’t know what a relationship was like. He’d never had a real one. He didn’t know how much he would regret dating somebody so big until it was too late. Once you’re in love you never, ever leave somebody. It’s like a magical curse.
After a couple failed attempts, Jason realized that he was going at it all wrong. Bruce wasn’t going to leave Clark… but maybe Clark would leave Bruce.
So on top of refusing to talk to him, Jason started pointing out all the times Bruce messed up. Like when he had tried to reheat leftovers and forgot a paper towel so they got all mushy. Jason went on and on about how he'd be a bad wife because he can't clean or cook for shit.
But that wasn’t working either. All that got him was Superdick playing the butter-up game and standing up for Bruce. He was so good at being manipulative even Jason almost slipped up and bought it once. And Jason was an expert, even smarter than his mom. He knew every time that Dad said he was gonna change, it was crap. He knew every time he came home to flowers that the vase would be broken by the end of the week. Mom always fell for it ‘cause apparently that’s just what adults do.
Clark clearly didn’t know Jason was an expert. He even tried those old tricks on him.
Like last week, he’d shown up with a big hardcover book about world records and tried to give it to him. The little sticker in the corner had the price scratched off, clearly to get Jason’s attention, and through the scratches he could see that it said twenty-freaking-dollars. Jason shoved it right back at Clark and walked away.
He knew, deep down, that he was pushing his luck. That it could all backfire in his face and Clark might just end up smacking him for being a snot-nosed brat. But the good news was, if he did, after Jason got out of the hospital and whatnot, he was almost positive Bruce would break up with him.
Bruce had made it very clear hitting kids was not okay with him.
The blood started to pulse in his head so he sat back up and rubbed at his cheeks, poking at all the spots bruises had once been.
Unfortunately, he was pretty sure Clark wasn’t that type either.
The reality was most parents didn’t really hit their kids beyond a good smack when they’re being real bad.
But all parents fight. Jason even asked his friends with the nicest parents ever, and every single one of them said they do.
Jokes on him for trusting things could be different. He had gotten sort of… used to not having to listen to yelling all the time. He was gonna miss that real bad. And, sure, he knew that Superman didn’t kill either, but man he could hurt Bruce so, so bad without actually killing him. If he got so mad that he saw red like Jason’s dad used to, he could probably break bones with just his pinky. Bruce was so strong, and such a good fighter, but he was no match for Superman. He was gonna wreck him.
Downstairs, the doorbell rang.
Out of habit, Jason flinched and ran to his door to listen for the footsteps. Then he scowled and stepped back. Stupid.
Cracking his door just an inch, he could hear Bruce’s voice—all soft and weird like it got when he was around Clark, like maybe he was already learning how to be smaller and less bad. He cupped around his ears, straining to hear Clark’s reply, but all he could hear was a jumble of words and two matching laughs.
Light footsteps started up the stairs and Jason already knew what was coming, so he stepped out to meet them.
“I already heard the door, Alfred. I’m coming.”
“Very well, Master Jason,” Alfred responded and the footsteps retreated.
Yipee. Another stupid meal where he had to sit there and pretend like Clark wasn’t just trying to trap Bruce.
Jason took his time going down the stairs, dragging his hand along the railing and listening in on the conversation. They were talking about… the new flavor of Dr. Pepper? What the hell. That was friend talk not relationship talk.
The dining room was already set when he walked in, four plates instead of the usual two.
"Quick catch," Bruce said from where he stood against the island, a purple can out in front of him. "Dick’s on his way over. He’s held up in traffic, but he'll be here soon."
A little spark of hope shot through him. But it left as quickly as it came. According to Dick, he had good parents. At least, the type that did all their fighting where the kid couldn’t hear. He wasn’t going to get it like Jason did.
Clark smiled and picked up the can, extending it in Jason’s direction. His hand engulfed the entire thing. "Hey, Jason! Why don’t you give this a try and help us settle the debate.”
In your dreams, Jason wanted to say, but didn’t. He’d had to ‘settle’ plenty of arguments before in his day and he knew that was just code for ‘tell your mom she’s wrong’. Too bad for Clark, he wasn’t Jason’s dad and he didn’t have to listen to him.
“How was your day?” Clark asked, setting down the can when Jason just turned away from it. He smiled so big his eyes crinkled and it really did look genuine. Well played.
Jason shrugged and picked up his dishware, setting it in front of the chair two down from his usual. "Fine,” he answered, not because he wanted to, but because as much as he hated Clark he wasn’t actually trying to speed up how soon he’d drop the act.
"Just fine?" Clark tried again. "Anything interesting happen at school?"
"Nope."
Bruce opened his mouth, probably to scold Jason again, but the second he did Jason’s eyes went wide. The sunlight coming in from the window hit his skin just perfectly, illuminating three horizontal lines of bruising on his arm.
Like always, Bruce caught on right away. "It’s from patrol last night," he said quickly, holding out a flat palm towards Clark. Why did he do that? What did that mean? ‘I’ll cover for you, don't worry’? Jason looked back and forth between the two of them. “Those dealers in the 8th street alleyway? One of them got a good hit on me.”
That wasn’t true. He was lying. He ran into a door, he fell down the stairs, he was just clumsy. A small ‘mmpf’ came from Jason’s throat and he realized he was holding his breath. Bruce leaned over and whispered something to Clark, who gave a small smile and nod. Approving Bruce’s story? Oh no, no, no, no it was happening already.
"Everything is fine, Jason," Bruce added. “We’re here in the manor and everything is fine. Look, isn’t the sun so bright today? It’s making the smoke from the oven float around. You see it?”
Jason nodded, but he wasn’t looking at the smoke. He was looking at Clark’s fingers and the size of the bruises.
“That chicken smells delicious. I can’t tell if that’s rosemary or garlic, but it is strong.” With that same fake-nice smile, Clark took a few steps backwards. “I’m going to use the restroom.”
The grandfather clock ticked in the quiet and a ringing started in Jason’s ears.
“Hey.” Bruce moved to the table and leaned over it. “You’re okay. We’re in the manor, we’re going to have dinner, and everyone is in a good mood, okay?”
Swallowing hard, Jason nodded. Don’t ruin the meal, he’s in a good mood.
“Good. Take a couple deep breaths for me.”
Air filled his lungs and the ringing quieted. In its absence, he could hear the sound of gravel crunching under tires.
Drowning out the gravel noises was a sudden stream of water. Water? He shook his head and focused. Bruce had apparently gone to the sink and turned the faucet on full blast to wash his hands.
Two seconds later, Clark came back from the bathroom, that same, creepy, never-leaving smile on his face. He didn’t look at Jason at all, and the whole thing just felt weird.
Then the kitchen door swung wide open and Dick barreled in. “Oh sweet! You guys waited!”
“Master Dick, do not insult my hosting skills.” Alfred said as he walked into the dining room and accepted the impending bear hug from Dick. “I am glad to have you home for the evening.”
“I never doubted you, Alfred.” He pointed a finger right at Jason. “It was him I thought would’ve sweet-talked his way into a headstart.”
He started to walk towards Jason, but Bruce did that same palm thing and he stopped, eyebrows scrunching for a moment before pulling back to normal. “Let’s eat. I bet you’re all starving, having to smell this food and wait!”
Everybody filed into their places at the table. Dick gave a weird look to Jason’s seat choice, but he didn’t say anything. Maybe Jason hadn’t given him enough credit, maybe he could pick up on the bad feeling too.
Alfred brought out the food and everyone filled their plates as Bruce and Dick started talking about some issue he’d been having with a university professor. Jason half-listened as he rolled his green beans back and forth.
“Hey, Dick,” Clark said when the conversation started to dull. “Will you please try this soda and tell us what you think?”
Of course, Dick said he would. The second Clark’s back was turned to them Jason whipped his head over to Dick and gave him a wide-eyed glare. Do not.
“Jay, you need to calm down,” he whispered, “everything is okay.”
Now he felt like hitting somebody. Had Dick gone stupid too? Was it because he was an adult now? How did he not know better than to get involved in a couples argument.
Purple can in hand, Clark handed it over to Dick with an evil grin. Dick took a big swig and his face twisted up. “That’s awful!”
“I told you,” Bruce said with an eye roll.
“Are you sure? Try another drink.” Clark gestured at the can.
“No thank you.” Dick laughed and pushed the can back towards him.
The room started feeling short of air again. Why were they doing this? You weren’t supposed to tell your partner they’re wrong and you definitely weren’t supposed to get somebody else in on it. Jason couldn’t even imagine how his dad would’ve reacted if Jason and his mom ganged up on him. Just thinking about not thinking about it made him shudder.
“Come on, one more sip,” Clark tried and that was enough. He didn’t get to pull Dick into their fights.
“He said he doesn’t like it!” Jason yelled, fork clattering against his plate.
The table went quiet. Everyone looked at him.
“Jason, chill out,” Dick said.
“No! If you’re going to do this kind of shit then don’t come over!” Jason glared daggers at Clark.
“What the hell is your problem?”
“It’s okay,” Clark replied. “There’s just been some… adjusting going on. I don’t mind.”
Dick looked back and forth between the two of them. “Uh, that’s not adjusting, that’s rude.” He shook his head at Jason, “I thought you were over acting like this.”
“Well, I’m not! I’m gonna act like this forever! And if Clark doesn’t like it, he can leave!”
“Enough!” Bruce said, firm and just below a shout. Jason shoved his head between his hands and yelled behind his closed mouth. Clark was ruining everything! And he was turning Jason’s family against him too!
A hand wrapped around his arm and he jolted back. “NO!”
It was just Dick. The hand was barely even touching him. “Jason, come with me, let’s talk.”
Why? So Clark can show Bruce what happens when he lets his stupid kids open their mouths? One slap could knock his teeth out. If he’s a pusher, he could push him through the wall! He smacked Dick’s wrist and grabbed onto the chair with both hands. He looked around rapidly, waiting to see which one of them was going to attack next. But nobody moved. Dick sat back down and set his hands on the table, palms up.
“We clearly need to talk. We can do it here, or we can go somewhere private. It’s up to you, and either choice is fine, but we are going to pick one.”
Jason crossed his arms and huffed. He should’ve known he wasn’t getting out of it. It wasn’t like he could really do anything to protect Bruce anyways, if Clark did start hitting. He threw the chair back and marched up the stairs, throwing himself onto his bed and glaring at the floor.
Barely ten seconds later, Dick stepped slowly past the threshold. “Can I close the door?”
“Don’t care.”
The door latched with a click. “You want me to lock it?”
“I don’t care,” Jason said, more pointed this time.
Dick pulled up his desk chair so he was only inches in front of Jason, setting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. “Talk to me, kid. What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
He sighed heavily. “Jay. We can go back and forth for 10 minutes, or we can just get to the point. You know how persistent I can be, I grew up getting Bruce to talk. I’m basically an Einstein in this field.”
Unfortunately, he was right and Jason knew it. He kicked his feet back and forth against the bed frame, a little harder with each kick, just enough to hurt. What the hell was he supposed to say here? Sorry your parents died when you were young, so you can’t tell Clark is hitting your dad? That’s fucked up even for Jason.
“I just don’t like Clark. Is that illegal?”
“Uh...” Dick’s eyes went wide and he moved back an inch. “That’s… almost illegal, yeah. You don’t like Superman? Since when?”
“Since none of your business. I just don’t.”
“Jay… this…” He scratched at the back of his neck. “This doesn’t have to do with Bruce and Clark dating does it?”
Jason’s neck shot up to look him in the eyes. “Do you know?”
“Know what?”
No. He didn’t. Jason could tell Dick’s genuine confusion vs fake ‘tell me more’ voice. He hunched his shoulders back up to his ears, crossing his arms even tighter.
“You don’t want them to date?”
Jason ground his teeth together for a minute, then shook his head.
“Can you tell me why?”
Another shake.
“Would you… feel different if Clark was a woman?”
Jason considered it. He hadn’t really thought of that, but yeah, yeah he would. A woman probably couldn’t kill Bruce with just a hand. And if they tried, he could at least fight back.
“That would be better, I guess. Yeah.”
Dick puffed up his cheeks and blew the air out slowly.
“But- but he doesn’t need that either. He doesn't need anyone. He's got enough money for bills and Alfred cooks and cleans and lots of people would, y'know, spend the night or whatever, so why would he need somebody else?"
Dick rubbed his hands over his face then rested his head on his hands, pinkies covering his lips. “Why would it be better if Bruce was with a woman?”
Now this was Dick’s ‘tell me more’ voice. “You wouldn’t get it.”
“Try me.”
"Because-" Jason's throat got all tight and goddamnit his stupid eyes felt hot. “Ugh! Just because!"
"That's not much of an answer."
"Too bad!"
Dick clasped and unclasped his hands, the flutter of skin the only noise in the otherwise silent room. "Jason," Dick said slowly. "I think we need to talk about some things. About… about why it's okay for two men to be in a relationship."
“What? Nooo,” he groaned. “You’re not understanding me!”
"Then help me understand. Explain it to me.”
"I can't!"
"Why not?"
"Because I don’t want to talk about it! I don’t want to think about it! I don’t want it to be my stupid, fucking life! You were right, okay? Or whatever it is you want me to say, I give up. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry that I don’t want fucking Superman to beat up the first adult that’s ever actually bothered to remember I exist every day!”
Wetness pooled under his eyes and he shoved his hand across them, rubbing them raw. Colors decorated his vision and when they faded, Dick was staring at him, looking devastated.
"Jason." Dick's voice had gone so soft. "Do you think Clark is going to hurt Bruce?"
Jason didn’t reply.
Dick let out a small, defeated sigh. "Oh. Oh, kid…"
“I’m not as stupid as you guys think I am. I know adult stuff.”
“Hey, I don’t think you’re stupid. Neither does Bruce. Or Clark.” Dick leaned forward. “Listen to me, I know that you came from a home where that was normal.” If Jason had heat vision, Dick would be ash with the glare he shot at him. “But it’s not. In fact, it’s wrong, and illegal. If you can trust Superman for a sure thing, it’s to do what’s moral and legal. Right?”
“It’s not illegal unless you go blabbin’ to the cops. Lotsa people do it and don’t go to jail.”
Another sigh. “Yes, it is. But more than just illegal, it’s a bad thing to do. Just like it’s wrong for parents to hit kids, it is not okay for partners to hit each other. Remember how it took you awhile to trust that Bruce wasn’t going to hit you? You were so sure it was coming? But it never did. The same goes for this. Clark would never, ever hit Bruce like that.”
“But not everybody hits their kids. I know that,” Jason said pointedly. “All couples do fight though. I asked a bunch of kids and even the kids with the nicest parents said they fight.”
“Fighting and hitting are not the same thing.” Dick sounded so sure of it. “Yes, most couples will disagree at some point—they may even argue—but they don't hit each other. They don't hurt each other. That's not normal, Jason. What your father did to your mother- that was abuse. Clark would never lay a hand on Bruce. Not ever. Not even if they had the worst fight in the world. That's not who Clark is.”
“He wouldn’t even have to lay a hand on him…”
"Which is exactly why he's so careful. Listen, Clark is one of the most powerful beings on the planet, and he's spent his entire life learning to control that strength. To never use it to hurt people he loves. It would kill him to hurt Bruce."
Jason wanted to believe him. God, he wanted to believe him so bad.
"How do you know?" His voice came out small, like he was a little kid. “What if Bruce makes him really mad?”
"It wouldn’t change that.” He shook his head slowly. “I know because I know Clark. I've known him for years. I've seen him at his angriest, his most frustrated, his most scared. And I have never, ever seen him be anything but gentle with the people he cares about." Dick paused. "And I know Bruce. You think Bruce Wayne would date someone he thought might hurt him? He's the most paranoid person I know. If there was even a chance Clark could hurt him, he never would've started this relationship. Not only that, but he would rather jump off the Fortress of Solitude than make you ever live in a home with abuse present.”
That… that last part made sense. His throat felt so, so hot and the whole room was blurry under the building water in his eyes. His sleeve was soaking through, so he picked up his blanket and rubbed.
"Hey, hey, it's okay." Dick reached out, careful and slow, setting a hand on Jason's shoulder. "It's okay to be scared. But whatever you’ve been scared of, it’s not going to happen."
"You’re positive?" Jason's voice cracked.
“If I’m wrong, I will give you every dollar in my bank account and backflip naked across Gotham.”
Gross. Jason couldn’t help the laugh. “That would just make me feel worse.”
Dick scoffed in mock offense. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’ve been told I have a great… legs.”
“What’s that in the sky?” Jason pointed to the window “Is that the Nightwing signal? Better get going.”
A foot kicked at his shin. “You’re lucky you just said the saddest shit ever or you’d be getting a world class wet-willy right now.”
He laughed again and everything about him felt a little bit lighter. Dick sounded so, so sure. Even if he was wrong, and Clark was like most people, Dick would have his back on trying to break them up. And knowing that did help.
After a few minutes of quiet, Jason broke the silence. “You’re not going to make me go downstairs and explain myself, are you?”
“I won’t force you to do it now, but it’s going to have to come up eventually. It’s for the best.”
An order disguised as a suggestion. It seemed Dick forgot that he had gotten the same victim training as Jason.
“I’ll do the talking?” Dick added.
Well, better get it over with. Jason stood up and stared at the floor. Thankfully, Dick took the hint, pushing off the chair and starting back down.
This was going to be so awkward. Hey, Superman, old buddy. So funny story, I actually was being so mean to you because I thought you were going to beat up my guardian. And I sort of actually still do, but I hope you prove me wrong!
His stomach flipped. The humor wasn’t working. He trailed three steps behind Dick and paused on the seventh stair, genuinely debating sprinting back up and locking the door behind him.
But he kept going. All the way to the dining room where both highly trained vigilantes failed miserably at hiding their expressions.
“Hey guys!” Dick called cheerily from the end of the table. “So me and Jason talked. Turns out it was just a big misunderstanding! Jason’s frame of reference for relationships had him a little confused in what to expect. We all know what it’s like to be confused!”
Bruce and Clark exchanged a glance and Jason wasn’t positive but he thought he heard an “oh” from one of them.
“But we cleared that all up so now everything is peachy! He’ll just keep being reminded through actions that there’s nothing to worry about. Right guys?”
Bruce’s jaw opened, then closed. He nodded once at the same time Clark gave a pointed “Of course.”
“Great! Then let’s eat up before dinner gets too cold.” Dick threw himself down onto his chair. “Jason, try a bite, how’s the temp?”
Jason pushed his plate back to his usual chair and sunk into it, rubbing a thumb over the scratch he’d made from his first anxious weeks here. Then he poked a fork into the potatoes and chewed. They honestly were a little cold. “Fine,” he said instead.
Dick carried—or rather forced—the others into a conversation about weather, which turned into talking about restaurants, which somehow got back to the topic of soda.
“No, seriously man, that stuff is bad. It’s like they’ve never even smelled a blackberry let alone tasted it.” Dick said, scrunching his nose in offense.
“Fine, I stand down. The group decides it’s bad.”
Was this soda really so special it was worth multiple debates? Lemme try it, he thought.
“You want to?” Clark asked.
Oh. He said that out loud, didn’t he?
“Uh, sure.”
Clark lifted the can, then paused and passed it to Dick, who passed it to Jason. He swirled it around a little bit, scared for how bad it was going to be after seeing Dick’s reaction.
Then he tilted it into his mouth and took a tiny sip. Huh. That was actually… “That’s good.”
A gasp, a “yes”, and a “no way!” all sounded at once.
“Hm.” Clark smiled and shimmied in his seat. “It’s always nice to see a family where the youngest is the smartest.”
“Pfft!” Jason whipped his neck to get a full view of Dick’s reaction.
“Alright! I’m on Jason’s side now, get him outta here!” He pointed to the front door with the dramatic extra-ness that was Dick Grayson.
“Nope! That ship sailed!” Jason yelled. “I want him to stay!”
He gasped when a rolled up napkin hit him square in the arm. Then he grabbed his own and wadded it up real tight. Oh, it was so on!