Jason clang-thumped onto the fire escape next to Dick, feeling simultaneously pleased and guilty that he'd startled the young man. It was a bad mix with the apprehension already churning in his gut. Seated on the night cool grating, Dick had his long, lean legs dangling over the edge. There was a smear of rust running up his forearm.
"Holy—"
"Hey Blue," he did his best to sound nonchalant.
"Warn a guy, Jaybird."
Jason leaned against the discolored bricks that Dick's apartment complex was haphazardly built with, his cape catching unevenly. Was the yellow inner lining too much? He itched for a cigarette just to have something to do with his hands, but he still hadn't mastered sneaking contraband past Alfred yet. Not that he would have lit up if he did have one. Dick hated smoking, hated that Jason did it even more. He didn't lecture him about it anymore, but Dick had zero tolerance for Jason screwing up both their lungs. Instead, Jason's fingertips tapped against his lightly armored thigh.
"I dunno who Jaybird is."
Be cool, be cool.
"Name's Robin."
Dick side eyed him, his mouth quirked like a crooked bow. He put his weight back on his hands behind him.
"Yeah?"
Jason flushed and shifted his stance, everything feeling wrong and awkward.
"Like, like Robin Hood."
"Of course," Dick agreed. "Where else would Batman's sidekick pull a name like that from? Some prostitute working Crime Alley?"
Jason's flush crawled down his neck.
"You're more than that."
Dick smiled. Not that teasing grin that made Jason's stomach clench when aimed at him just right. Or the sad one that was never pointed at anyone. This was summer afternoons eating melting ice cream and warm nights spent on a worn out blanket outside the city limits just to see the stars. He just wanted to bask in that warmth that even the worst of Gotham couldn't beat out of Dick, although it tried and would keep on trying. Jason pushed away from the wall and sat down. Dick ruffled his dark hair, not quite that midnight black like Dick's, and threw an arm around the smaller boy. He gave Jason a squeeze and it was hard to tell who was leaning on who.
"I could change it," Jason said quietly, watching an alley cat sashay across a dumpster like it was a runway. "If it bothers you. I could change it. Talk to the boss, tell him I can't use it, that it's not my name…"
"Don't. It's nice."
His voice was soft and wistful and Jason knew the sad, faraway smile would be there if he looked so he didn't.
"I want you to have it."