First shot at writing JayDick, so I'm not quite sure how this turned. I'm also not a huge Jason fan, so I apologize if he seems to be OOC. But I wrote this one shot for Em (Kitty Emily) cause she's amazing and everyone should go read her fanfics.
Any feedback is appreciated!
I do not own Batman or any of the character associated with it (if I did, I would not have characterization issues and I would have every single comic that has been published in a glass case in my room and I would fall asleep staring at it).
Nightwing quietly entered his apartment through the window. Many would think that sneaking into their own apartment through the window could be considered weird and just slightly disturbing, but for the members of the community Nightwing was part of, this was just an end to a normal night. Actually, the fact that he could get into his apartment through the window without aid was a feat in itself. That usually meant that he was uninjured and the night went by smoothly.
Silently closing the window, Dick took off the mask. Placing it on one of the various flat surfaces in the apartment, he stretched his sore muscles and yawned. It has been a while since he made contact with the other members of the family, especially the youngest member. After Dick moved out back to Bludhaven, the child has been strangely reserved; even more so than usual.
"I'll give them a call in the morning. If they are going by their usual schedules, they should be done for the night," Dick muttered to himself as he went over to the fridge to grab a small snack. He knew Alfred would chastise him for eating so late, but he was hungry. As far as he was concerned, sleeping on an empty stomach is worse than eating in the middle of the night.
"Alfred wouldn't be too happy with you sneaking chocolate in right before bed," a smug voice called out from the window.
Dick paused. He was sure he closed the window when he came in earlier. Grabbing the nearest kitchen utensil before remembering that he was still in full Nightwing uniform, he slowly turned around to face the stranger. Before he could fling the fork at the helmeted stranger, he paused. "Jay?"
"Who else, Golden Boy?"
"Well I don't know," the older man begun, waving the fork around carelessly. "I live in Bludhaven. So between your general muggers who like killing people by putting pillows to their faces, jewellery robbers who are not as hot as Catwoman mind you, and my usual enemies that would pay big buck to see me dead, I would say there's a lot of candidates for your current position."
"You forgot to mention Deathstroke," the Red Hood added, an audible smile in his voice.
"Oh, right. And Wilson," Dick turned back to look at the fridge. "What made you think I was getting chocolate?"
"You always get chocolate."
"And you would know 'cause you're such an expert on all things me," Dick closed the fridge door, empty-handed. Reaching up for the door above the fridge, he opened the freezer and dug around. Pushing various frozen dinners aside, he let out a faint sound of victory as he reached his prize. Pulling out a cookies and dough flavoured tub of ice cream, he opened it.
"Ice cream?" Jason asked, not moving from his perch on the windowsill. Technically, Dick hadn't invited him in yet, so Jason was quite content to stay in this position until his predecessor decided to let him in. Window or no window, standard house rules applied. "That's a new habit of yours."
"First time actually." Dick, using the fork he already had in his hand, started eating the ice cream.
"And you're using a fork to eat ice cream. I don't know if I should commend you on your creativity or on your stupidity," Jason raised an eyebrow.
"You're just jealous of my skills, Jay," Dick smirked.
"I am oh so jealous of your eating-ice-cream-with-a-fork skill. Teach me great master!"
"You need work in the sarcasm department. I suggest Alfred for lessons."
Jason shifted from his perch, placing his legs in a more comfortable position. Judging on how long the other man was waiting before issuing permission to enter his home, he was quite sure that Dick was secretly enjoying watching him squirm. Bludhaven windowsills were definitely not made for late night visits by travelling vigilantes.
As if reading his mind, Dick finished his spoonful - forkful? - of ice cream and looked at his house guest. "You know you can come in, right?"
"Usually you wait for permission."
"Never took you as one to wait for permission to do something, Jaybird. You've always been the leeeeroy jenkins! type of guy." Dick stood up and walked back to the kitchen.
Jason, deciding to forsake all house manners instilled in him by Alfred at a young age, plopped down onto the worn sofa and placed his feet on the equally worn out coffee table.
"Feet off the table," Dick chastised as he brought back the tub of ice cream, only instead now he held two forks. Handing one to Jason, Dick sat down beside him and placed the ice cream tub between them. "Dig in!"
Eyeing the fork critically, the younger man shrugged. Ice cream was still ice cream no matter what one was using to eat it with. Reaching for the one spot Dick was reaching for before the other man could reach it, he smiled victoriously.
"You son of a bi-"
"Quarter in the swear jar."
"I don't have one!"
"There's one in the manor."
"And you would know."
"I know everything."
"That's something Tim would say."
"Considering that I was at the manor recently, I would notice any significant changes immediately. The addition of the swear jar is a new addition that stood out."
"Yeah. Alfred and Bruce hadn't taken that one out after your reign in the house."
"And you think they didn't have one for you when you were younger?"
"Nope. I was quite happy with my Holy Batman puns."
"You still do them."
"I do not!"
"Yes you do."
Dick pouted. He took the ice cream tub and snatched it away from its spot between the two of them.
Jason was in mid-reach of a nice corner of ice cream with lots of dough filling when it happened. Hand paused in midair, he yelled out "Hey! Give that back Short Pants!"
"Not until you admit that you loved wearing the old Robin costume!" Dick smirked, holding the ice cream tub just out of Jason's reach.
Jason, meanwhile, refused to give Dick the satisfaction to move him from his comfortable position nor was he about to follow the older man's requirements. So instead, he bent his legs up onto the empty spot beside him and leaned his head on Dick's shoulder. Yawning dramatically, he replied "Only in your dreams, Dickiebird. Meanwhile, I will take a short nap."
Bewildered, Dick's eyes widened. "Don't fall asleep on my shoulder! You'll drool all over my Nightwing uniform. I just got this one washed too!"
"Sorry to tell you, but it already needs another. I'll just speed up the process," Jason moved his head to position it more comfortably on the Kevlar-clad shoulder. "Good night."
Dick sighed. He really didn't feel like having another fight with Jason, and frankly, the kid looked like he could use the sleep. Reaching forward toward the remote, he turned on the TV on silent. Moving his upper body so he could still eat ice cream without disturbing his younger brother – and maybe something more – he set to work on rewinding himself after a night of saving Bludhaven from itself.
Sucking thoughtfully on the forkful of ice cream, Nightwing took this as a chance to reflect on what had transpired over the past few weeks. He felt more distant from the family ever since he moved back out, but from the updates he's been getting sporadically, he gathered that Jason and Tim both had gone their own separate ways. Apparently, Tim and Jason's relationship had gotten better, and Dick was glad for them. He always hated the silent hate that went on between Jason and the others.
In a way, they were all the black sheep. Each one was a black sheep in a different way. Though he believed that his younger brothers would argue that he was no black sheep and fit in perfectly, but Dick thought otherwise.
Jason was the black sheep because of his different methods of handling the business.
Tim was the black sheep due to his unparalleled intelligence that the others were often jealous of.
Damian was the black sheep because of being the son acquired without Bruce's consent.
Dick was the black sheep because of his undying loyalty and love to every single member of the family. Dick was considered to be too trusting and loved in order to be in the business. He was the 'weak link', as some would say.
Before he could dwell further into his own self-doubt, he spared a look at the sleeping man on his shoulder. Regarding Jason's peaceful expression, Dick smiled softly. It was due to his love and care for his younger brothers, that they trusted him enough to sneak into his apartment at night and sleep on his shoulder. Maybe it was just Jason that trusted him to such a degree.
So in the end, everything balanced.
Placing the now empty ice cream container on the coffee table, Dick carefully took a hold of Jason's head. Being as gentle as possible, he slipped from underneath it and lowered it to the sofa. Jason mumbled in his sleep, and turned around looking for the missing source of whatever little heat was leaking through the uniform.
Shushing him, Dick retrieved a blanket by the sofa and covered Jason up. "Go to sleep, Jaybird. Everyone will still be here when you wake up," he whispered.
There was no response from the younger man except a small smile that vanished immediately.
Dick paused slightly before raising himself up to his full height. He looked pensively at the sleeping man, wondering what it was exactly that had forced him to come to his windowsill in the middle of the night – or was it morning now? – and share a jug of ice cream with him. Not to mention evade flying forks.
Can't forget the flying forks.
Getting up and stretching, Dick finally realized that he should probably call it a day. He might not have to be out of his apartment by early afternoon the next day – today – but that did not mean he did not need his sleep.
Walking to the secret closet, he changed out of Nightwing uniform into casual sweats. Sniffing it carefully, he judged that Jason was pulling his leg earlier and that his uniform was not in need of a wash. Hanging it up and checking how well he was stocked up on his arsenal, he nodded approvingly.
It was time to call it a night.
The next morning, he woke up to a warm body by his side. Blinking owlishly, it took him a moment to process that it was indeed Jason lying beside him on his bed.
And Jason was in only his boxers.
It took another moment for the implied activity suggestions to settle in his mind before he flung the blankets off of him.
"Gah, Dick! What the hell was that for?"
"Quarter in the swearing jar, and that was for sleeping in my bed! Have you ever heard of personal space?" Dick yelled, face completely flushed.
"It was cold," Jason looked to the side, pouting.
"You were in your Red Hood uniform and I put a blanket on top of you!"
Jason's pout turned into a scowl. "It was hot, so I took off the uniform – Kevlar isn't the most comfortable thing to sleep in – and left on the blanket. But then it got cold, and I didn't feel like putting on my uniform in the dark, so yeah…." He trained off.
"So you felt the need to climb into my bed in the middle of my sleeping time clad in only your boxers to share heat."
"Pretty much."
Dick had no good answer to Jason's reasoning. Logically, to a sleepy mind, that might be the only logical course of action for a scenario like that. "Fine… just don't do it again."
"No promises there, Dickie," the cocky smirk was back. It was then that Jason realized how close their faces really were. Blushing profusely, Jason got out of the small bed and went to retrieve his uniform.
Dick rubbed the remaining sleep out his eyes before following Jason's example and getting out of bed himself. Thankfully, he wore long sweats and a t-shirt to bed, so it wasn't that awkward.
"Are you going to make breakfast or are you getting takeout?" Jason called from the living room.
Dick took one look at himself in the mirror before deciding that taming his bed-hair is a lost cause at this early on in his morning routine, he walked out from his room. "Usually I grab whatever's edible in the house. If there's nothing, I buy something on my way to wherever I have to go during the day."
"Well I can't cook, and your fridge looks as desolate at the Sahara desert, so I guess takeout it is."
Absently, Dick wondered just when it was established that they were having breakfast together. But it didn't matter.
In this case, it didn't matter at all.
Hope you liked it Em! :D I tried, but this being my first slash oneshot, I couldn't do it too heavy. Tried to add a lot of subtle hints though ;)
Leave a review on your way out~