Sunday, September 12, 2021
Manhattan, Metropolis, New York
Jason Todd fluttered his eyes open to a ferocious flood of daylight.
"Ughh," Jason groaned as he absorbed a large, lavish room with a luminous white marble floor, ceiling, and back-wall; and completed by round-cornered window walls.
Jason immediately discerned the spiced rum remnants that dominated his breath.
And splices of gin's fresh forest flavor added to bourbon's smoky vanilla savor.
And surrounding scents of sweat and sex.
And the nakedness of his body.
The stickiness on his dick.
And the smell of saliva.
"And here I thought you died," a smooth, slick voice remarked.
"Danny," Jason greeted while shifting his head to the right.
"Toddster," the grey-green eyed blond responded. Riding the line between fashion and flop, the five-foot-nine boy wore a dark purple, short sleeved button-up with mid thigh, bright red chino shorts.
In a blur of motion, Jason suddenly found his vision blackened and nose assaulted with a strong musky smell.
"Wrong head," Jason dryly stated as he removed his stretch-nylon Calvin Klein black boxer briefs from his face and pulled them up through his legs to their rightful place.
"Sorry, I couldn't see the other one," Danny joked. Then chortled as he ducked a punch to the face.
"Some hoe enjoyed it last night tho," Jason said with a proud grin while patting his penis.
"We had our fair share," Danny informed with a returned grin.
"Fivesome?" Jason inquired. A successful night by his and Danny's standards was one where there were more girls on the bed than guys.
"Reverse train actually," Danny answered.
"We pulled it off?" Jason noted with faint surprise.
"I did the heavy lifting, obviously, but yes," Danny replied in a dramatically haughty tone.
"How many?" Jason questioned. He couldn't remember much of what occurred.
"Days of the week," Danny informed with a smirk.
Jason posted a high five which Danny instantly connected.
"So...they...um..." Jason stammered as he sat on the right edge of the bed, finding it mortifying that his memory failed him so.
"They formed a line at each side of the bed, got banged till they burst, then went the other side," Danny recounted as he plopped down next to Jason.
"Was it a competition or somethin'?" Jason asked while running a hand through his dark brown mop top styled hair.
"You made it into one so you wouldn't feel so average," Danny teased.
"Looks like I gave a better show than you," Jason decided based on his longer sleep time.
"You were an animal my man," Danny agreed. "Until you passed out mid-go."
"Wait, what!" Jason exclaimed in horror.
"Well, you chugged a fifth of rum as a party-trick," Danny reminded. "You also took ten, no twelve, shots of gin and bourbon over the course of the night. That was all on top of the ecstasy we pregamed on."
"Huh," Jason sounded.
"Not gonna lie, there were a few moments I thought I'd face a world in which the Bat hated me more than the Joker," Danny said semi-jokingly while giving Jason a backslap.
"Yo, have some faith," Jason returned with a grin. "Tolerance is all part of the training."
"I don't sense a hangover, so I'll take your word for it," Danny laughed while outstretching his fist. One which Jason connected with his own for a bump.
"Though, I have to say Toddster, you're usually not one for binge drinking," Danny noted. "A pot head for sure, whenever you can be. But booze..."
"Eh, felt like a change in pace," Jason dismissed with a shrug.
"Don't you..." Danny started with a very atypical note of hesitation. "Don't you hate alcohol because of your dad?"
"Actually, I've been thinking of him a lot lately," Jason replied.
"Because of the Afghan crisis," Danny said.
"I think 'crisis' is an understatement," Jason asserted.
"It's just another week as far as my parents are concerned," Danny returned.
"You have any idea what the CIA's plan is for getting the abandoned Americans out?" Jason asked.
"With our national reputation on the line, they'll work it out," Danny simply stated. "And we'll get much more than we give."
"'We' being the elite, not 'we the people'," Jason muttered bitterly.
"As if you're 'people', Robin," Danny rejoined with a laugh.
"We help people!" Jason defended vigorously. "We bleed for people so they get the safety they're promised. That's why Bruce and Dick are in Afghanistan now, helping all the green-card holders that have been thoroughly betrayed."
"Can't save 'em all," Danny replied.
"But we help all we possibly can," Jason countered. "That's what sets us apart from you government types, and that's why the people love us more."
"Well, 'the people' happily signed up for decades long wars in the name of democracy and the American way," Danny returned. "You think they'd go to war for you?"
"They won't be so quick next time Uncle Sam's defense contractors wanna score some bucks," Jason declared.
"War's been the ultimate profit churner for a century," Danny stated. "And America's reaped the greatest profits since World War I. So as underhanded as the military-industrial complex may seem..."
"And all your bought-off Congress puppets!" Jason interjected.
"...We 'the people' more than anyone," Danny finished. "And they reward us by always taking up arms for the next endless war in the name of 'patriotism'."
"Let's agree to disagree," Jason groaned with a disapproving shake of his head. Given how different his and Danny's opinions were on the role and responsibility of government, and how those premises served as the backbone of their career interests, Jason found it a wonder he could get along with the sixteen year old CIA spawn.
"You never said why you're here," Danny changed topics.
"I promised to help you host and manage the 9/11 twentieth anniversary memorial your parents planned for your apartment complexes, didn't I?" Jason reminded.
"That doesn't explain why you arrived Friday afternoon, or why you're still here," Danny replied.
"Desperate to get rid of me?" Jason asked with a cheeky grin.
"I'm always down to hang with you, and you me, but you never once suggested we go on patrol or partake in martial training," Danny noted.
"Like I said, change of pace," Jason attempted to dismiss.
"I know you Toddster," Danny asserted as he stood and oriented himself face to face with Jason. "And there's nothing on this green earth you love more than combat."
Jason sighed, knowing that Danny was on to him.
"Bruce thinks I'm 'losing sight' of the mission," Jason grumbled.
"Oof," Danny remarked.
"It's bullshit bro," Jason vented as he reclined his back over the king-sized bed's breadth, of which his upper body spanned to the mere halfway point.
"As long as you use his tools, he makes all the rules," Danny stated with a shrug.
"But I always give him a hundred-ten percent!" Jason suddenly shouted while sitting up once more.
"One. Hundred. Ten." Jason repeated while punching his right fist into his left palm after each word for emphasis.
"But it's never enough!" the embittered Robin continued. "He used to say I was too 'slow'..."
Danny obnoxiously chuckled at this.
"On the draw," Jason emphasized. "Batarang draw."
"Whatever you say, pot for brains," Danny teased.
"Then he claimed my sequences were too formulaic," Jason continued his rant. "Then he claimed I didn't have enough form. Then that I lacked sufficient spatial awareness."
"And after you fixed all his critiques on your fighting form, he said you focus too much on the fighting, didn't he?" Danny surmised.
"Yup," Jason grunted.
"Then leave," Danny suggested.
"I don't just up and ditch, Phantom," Jason rejected.
"You're a high school senior," Danny reminded. "Next year this time, you'll either be doing your own thing or doddering around Wayne Manor."
"I don't think it works like that," Jason said.
"Didn't your predecessor move out to Jump — or Brinco, since everyone likes the Spanish name — after he finished high school?" Danny brought up. "All the way across the country?"
"But see, that was Dick," Jason explained. "The golden boy. The gold standard of young crime fighters."
"If you don't think the Bat will ever view you as Dick's equal, you need to ditch," Danny insisted.
"I told you, I'm not like that," Jason declared.
"What, soldier's honor? Like papa?" Danny asked.
"What are you trynna say?" Jason questioned.
"Look where it got your old man," Danny stated.
"You little..." Jason shouted as he shot up, grabbed Danny's shoulder with his left hand, and thrust a two-fingered jab which he halted just before it hit Danny's throat.
"Didn't you say you were thinking about your dad a lot recently?" Danny continued, completely unperturbed.
"You're a little shit, you know that?" Jason said as retracted his hands from his four-inches-shorter junior.
"That's why we get along," Danny replied with a smirk.
"You're pushing it by brining up my dad," Jason warned.
"According to you, your binge last night was in part due to thinking about him," Danny reminded. "So you can either talk to me, or drown in booze..."
"Like him," Jason finished with a mutter.
"You said it," Danny said with arms raised in a disarming gesture.
"He fought in the Middle East, like all soldiers from the past thirty years," Jason started in explanation. "He was an honorable discharge, but between having me by an underage mother, constantly suffering from PTSD which he treated with vodka, and barely managing to make ends meet while living in the city, it's clear Veterans Affairs didn't do much for him. He got desperate enough to work for Two Face, then..."
"Boom!" Danny sounded while making an "exploding head" gesture.
"You dick," Jason chastised half-heartedly.
"As is everyone who commands 'good soldiers'," Danny retorted. "Grunts fight with honor, and they die on that hill. The most valuable agents are always the ones with couth, cunning, craft, charisma..."
"And charm," Danny finished while wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"Do you ever stop tooting your horn?" Jason said with an exaggerated sigh. "And supposedly, you CIA type aren't supposed to use sex as a weapon."
"And we supposedly don't use physical torture, cause 'morals'," Danny derided with an eye roll. "What a joke of a country we'd be if those with power practiced what the commoners preach."
"It's the elite that enforce religion," Jason rejoined.
"Exactly!" Danny emphatically stated. "Like the Bat's so-called 'mission'."
"That's not a religion," Jason denied.
"Isn't it?" Danny insisted. "A vaguely defined guiding light for the rigid codes you must follow if you are to remain in good standing with the Batman and receive respectful treatment."
Jason offered neither reaction nor response.
"You know I'm right bud," Danny declared. "And anytime someone pulls out religion, you should pull away from them."
"I owe Bruce..." Jason said.
"Nothing, because he's responsible for your health and wealth till next year February," Danny stated.
"Technically March 1st, since my birthday doesn't exist till 2024," Jason amended.
"Same difference," Danny replied with a shake of the head.
"Bruce gave me...made me everything I am today," Jason insisted.
"And that's what 'good soldiers' have been saying for the past eighty years as Uncle Sam cashed in on their blood," Danny responded.
"That's rather heartless..." Jason muttered.
"The truth always is," Danny said with a shrug.
"Fuck man," Jason exhaled as plopped himself back over the bed.
"You know," Danny started as he lay next to Jason. "Though you may fall short of what's considered a gifted IQ..."
Jason immediately punched Danny in the arm, to which the CIA boy unsurprisingly didn't react.
"Your determination, dedication, and street smarts could get you far in any organization," Danny offered.
"As a former street boy, I dunno if an abusive administrative agency's my cup of tea," Jason responded, fully knowing what Danny was implying.
"It was Alfred Pennyworth's," Danny noted. "Don't you say he respects you most out of the clan?"
"True," Jason considered.
"I know you want to be Batman one day..." Danny continued.
"Never said that," Jason interjected.
"Like I've said before, you don't have to," Danny countered. "But what you should have," he resumed, "is an exit strategy and a backup plan."
"Mmrrrmm," Jason throatily grunt-growled in a Batman-esque fashion.
"Just food for thought," Danny said. And at that exact moment, Jason's stomach growled.
"I need food," Jason declared.
"You need a shower," Danny dictated.
"Make me," Jason challenged as he got up in a combat pose.
"And there's my buddy," Danny returned as he got up to spar with the second Robin.