JayDickWeek2017 – Day 2 – Confession under Fire

A/N Okay, so today was absolutely crazy because I had to drive my brother to work and then it was raining so hard on the highway that I couldn't even see the lines on the road. A couple near-accidents, almost three hours on the road, and two pints of sweet tea later, I finally managed to get home and write this oneshot in about an hour. I did my best to grammar check it, but if I missed anything, please let me know. Enjoy!

Jason had no idea what the hell was happening. And whatever was happening most definitely was not his fault.

Okay, maybe it was a little his fault.

He had been working a case regarding some drug dealer that had, somehow, led to Bludhaven and intersected with one of Dick's cases. For efficiency's sake, they decided to work together. Dick and Jason didn't always work the best together, but it didn't usually go this bad.

There they were, hiding behind crates in a warehouse filled with bad guys, most of which were armed with guns. The warehouse was dark, and the thugs were looking for them with flashlights, but the odds were still overwhelmingly against them. If the two of them had been at their peak, then it would have been no trouble to take out the couple dozen idiots that stood in their way, but they had both been up for over 36 hours, hadn't eaten much in the last two days, and were already suffering from several wounds. Jason had a wound on his leg from where a bullet grazed him, along with a few cuts from various knives, and his body was still sore from where he'd gotten hit with a taser a few hours prior. Dick had a stab wound in his side and his ankle was messed up from a bad fall. Neither was at the top of their game, and they were both low on ammo - Jason only had one clip left for his gun and Dick was out of batarangs. Jason had lost his helmet at some point, and Dick's Escrima sticks were in bad shape.

Jason had no idea how they were going to get out of this.

Apparently, Dick felt the same way. The older man let out a sigh of resignation and leaned back against the crate the two of them were hiding behind. "This is a great way to go, don't you think?"

Jason gave him a dubious look. "I thought you were supposed to be Mr. Optimism."

Dick snorted. "Not even I can keep that up 24/7, Jay." Dick rested his head on the crate and closed his eyes. He looked almost at peace. "Besides, being optimistic is just looking on the bright side. Doesn't mean I can't acknowledge when shit hits the fan; just means I have to figure out which parts of the situation aren't quite as bad as the rest."

Jason shook his head. "I don't see how any part of this situation is any better than the rest of it."

Dick smiled, though it wasn't his usual cheery grin. Jason missed that grin. "I guess that means you can't be Mr. Optimism. I'll just have to keep it up a little while longer."

"So then what's the bright side?" Jason wondered if Dick would actually be able to come up with a good answer or if it would be something really stupid like, 'At least my shoes are tied.' As ridiculously far-fetched as it sounded, Dick had used that one before, and Jason wouldn't put it past him to use it again.

Dick gave him a measured look before shrugging as if he had thought to himself, 'Screw it.' "Well, I suppose the bright side for me is that I just might get to die first."

Jason's eyes went wide, unable to wrap his mind around that answer. "What?"

Dick swallowed, as if there was a lump in his throat. "Well, the only thing I can think of that would be worse than dying is having to watch you die. If I die first, then I won't have to go through that again." He glanced at Jason before shutting his eyes again. "I know that doesn't help you much, but it's optimism from my point of view. Sorry about that."

Jason blinked. Then he blinked again. "No. I'm sorry."

Dick opened his eyes and looked at him, his eyebrows furoughed in confusion. "Why are you sorry?"

"Because optimism from my point of view is that I die first. I've died before. I know I can handle it, and I know what to expect. It sucks, but I doubt it's as bad as watching you die would be."

Dick didn't move for a moment. He just sat there, staring at Jason. Then he grinned. "This wouldn't be the first time we looked at something from opposing perspectives."

"No," Jason agreed. "No, it wouldn't."

Jason copied Dick's position, leaning against the crate with his eyes closed. The goons in the warehouse hadn't found them yet, but he could hear them getting closer. He sighed, resolving to wait for them to find him and take out as many as he could before he died. He pulled a small bomb out of one of his many, many pockets and set it up next to him behind the crate. Regardless of what happened to Jason and Dick, he didn't want those assholes to get away with what they were doing.

Then he felt something touch his hand.

It was a cautious touch, as if the hand that touched him was prepared to jerk back if it determined the touch was unwelcome. It wasn't, because Jason knew it was Dick's hand that touched his. Instead of waiting for Dick to build up enough courage to take his hand, Jason took his first. The corner of his lips tipped upwards as their fingers wove together.

Jason figured that was the upside of the whole thing, getting to hold Dick's hand.

Dick's hand squeezed his, and Jason looked over at Dick to meet his eyes. Dick cleared his throat. "I don't want either of us to die yet."

Jason nodded slightly. "I know," he replied, his voice hoarse and strained.

Dick took a deep breath and chanced a quick look over the crate at the baddies on the other side. He hesitated, appearing to be contemplating something for a moment, then he looked over at Jason, a determined glint shining in the eyes that had moments ago looked as though they'd felt nothing but despair. "There might be a chance of getting out of this."

Jason paused, looking between Dick's steeled-over eyes and the warm hand that was wrapped around his own. Then he nodded. "Then let's take it."

Dick nodded back. "In a few seconds, they will find us. In a few seconds before that, we attack first. If we're quiet about it, we might not draw the attention of the next closest group of thugs. The quieter we are, the greater our chance of making it out of here."

Jason nodded his assent. He hesitated, wondering if what he wanted to do was worth the potential risk if they survived.

Then he decided to screw it, because if they didn't survive he didn't want to have anything to regret.

Jason cleared his throat quietly and shifted so that he was more facing Dick. "Okay, but just in case your brilliant plan doesn't work-" then he surged forward and pressed a hard kiss to Dick's mouth.

Dick froze at first, more than a little surprised. Then Jason felt him join in, tilting his head so their noses weren't smashed against each other. Jason had planned to pull away after a couple seconds, but Dick's cooperation made him temporarily forget the situation. And when Dick ran his gloved fingers through Jason's hair and pulled slightly on a fistful of it, Jason couldn't help but let out a small sound, a combination of a groan and a grunt.

Of course, the sound, however small it was, had definitely been enough to attract the attention of the thugs who shouldn't have found them for another five seconds (not that Jason thought another five seconds would have made any difference to what position they would be in when they were found).

When one of the thugs shown their flashlight on them, he seemed almost too stunned by their lip-locking to react. That bought Jason and Dick enough time to jump up and knock out him and his partner. Still, one of them had managed to mutter, "The hell?" before getting hit in the face with one of Dick's Escrima sticks. As other thugs shown their flashlights in their direction, Jason thought to himself, 'So much for the element of surprise,' before grabbing Dick's hand and dragging him in the general direction of an exit.

The two of them had to knock out a few more thugs before they could make it out, but then it was only a short sprint to Jason's motorcycle. It was tough for Dick, what with the stab wound, but they barely made it. They climbed onto Jason's motorcycle and sped away from the warehouse just before the bomb he had rigged blew the place up.

As Jason weaved through night-traffic towards one of Dick's safe houses, Jason was understandably relieved that he hadn't had to get blown up a second time.

They got to the safe house and Jason pulled a severely-weakened Dick up to the apartment. He dragged him over to the couch and set him down on it as gently as he could. Then he got the first aide supplies so he could patch up the first Boy Wonder. By the time he got back to the couch, Dick had already passed out from blood loss. Jason refused to let that freak him out and went about stitching him up as quickly and neatly as he knew how.

He'd been giving Dick a blood transfusion (thank God they were the same blood type) when he woke up. Dick gave him a lazy smile, but he was smart enough not to try to sit up. "Hey, Jay-bird."

Jason returned the smile, glad to see that the cheery grin he'd missed so much had returned to his face. "Hey, Dickie."

Dick eyed the tube that connected their veins. "Nice handiwork there, Doc."

Jason snorted. "I learned from the same guy you did."

They sat in a comfortable silence until Jason figured he'd given Dick enough blood. He removed the IVs and put away the medical supplies in the bathroom. When he came back, he saw that Dick had pushed himself up into a sitting position on the couch, with his back leaning against the armrest and one foot on the floor. The older man nodded his head toward the seat that was partially occupied by Dick's other leg, and Jason internally shrugged as he sat down in the proffered seat.

"That thing you did at the warehouse," Dick started, eyeing Jason in a way that was both wary and mischievous.

Jason smirked. He just got right to the point, didn't he? "The bomb or the kiss?"

Dick raised an eyebrow. "Well I did find it interesting that you would plant a bomb, considering your history, but I'm really more interested in the kiss."

Jason looked down at his fingers, which were picking at a loose thread in his cargo pants. He could feel Dick staring at him, and he swallowed around a lump in his throat. Shrugging, he glanced up at Dick before looking back down at his lap. "I've died before, Dick. I didn't want to have any regrets this time around."

Just as he had in the warehouse, Dick reached out for his hand. Jason allowed him to do so, and this time it was Dick who wove their fingers together. "I'm flattered that not kissing me is something you'd regret."

Jason looked up at him, a sad smirk on his lips. "And I'm flattered that you wanted to hold my hand when you thought you were about to die."

Dick grinned again. "Well, now that we're done measuring dicks - no pun intended - how about we just skip the sappy confessions and go straight to the kissing part? Because I really liked that."

Jason gave him a cocky smile. "Good plan." Then he leaned forward and they kissed again, and Jason figured he might have just found the bright side of the warehouse fiasco.

This time, they didn't have to worry about being interrupted by some idiot with a flashlight.

(Which was good, because this kiss was a lot less PG after the first few seconds.)