"Forgive the mess," Jason murmured as he carried Jazz into the room. "They did leave everything just like I left it, huh."
Jazz lifted her head from its hiding place in the crook of Jason's neck. She didn't expect to be carried in his arms, and even if she should find it funny given how she got injured in the first place, she couldn't deny it made her heart flutter a bit.
Jason's childhood room was… what you'd expect from a teenager. It wasn't messy, but clutter was everywhere — books, comics, more books and what she assumed was a handheld gaming device. Her eyes roamed over the Wonder Woman posters and pictures on the wall, spying a signature in a big one placed safely far from the window and sunlight.
Jason had always been a nerd.
She giggled.
"Cute." She said, rubbing her cheek against his when he blushed.
"'m not cute." He contested halfheartedly. He huffed softly and walked closer to the bed, letting her down on the mattress. "Cass left some clothes for you." he reached for the neatly folded pajamas and handed them to her. "Do you need help, or…?"
Jazz rolled her eyes. "I have a twisted ankle, I'm not unable to dress myself."
"Well, I'll leave you to it, I'll change in the bathroom." He walked towards the drawers, opened one and cursed.
"What's wrong?"
"I was fifteen years old when I last stepped into this room," he pulled something from the drawer to show her, "and I was a small child."
Jazz tried really hard to contain her laughter, but the tiny rock band t-shirt over his broad chest was just hilarious. She threw back her head and gave a hearty laugh, not worrying about if he saw her fangs for once.
He chuckled with her, turning back to check the rest of the drawers, rummaging around for a bit.
"Nothing?" She asked softly.
"Nope. And I'm not going to go back out and ask for clothes if I don't really—" He stopped in his tracks, his cheeks blooming a bit of a blush.
Jazz picked up what he didn't say. "Do you usually sleep naked?"
She watched his shoulders tense and how he consciously relaxed them before answering. "Yeah. Or just with some boxers or shorts on." He pointedly wasn't looking at her.
Okay.
Jazz hummed, controlling her thoughts and what to say. Was this one of those situations she had to be careful to navigate? She didn't want to send the wrong signals and make the situation more uncomfortable than it needed to be — she knew he was not happy with their sleeping arrangements and Bruce's pushiness was not welcomed.
"I don't mind if you want to sleep in your underwear." First step: vocalize. Don't leave things unsaid, since not-saying things usually lead to misunderstandings, as she had come to learn.
Jason turned with a confused frown, finally looking at her in the eyes. "Okay?"
"Yeah. It's okay." Second: appear calm and collected, safe to be around. "It doesn't bother me."
She fiddled with the soft fabrics of the provided pajamas, distracting her hands as she waited for his reaction. What was he thinking? Did he consider this as her making some kind of move? They were going to share a bed for the first time, and she was trying very hard not to feel too self conscious about that fact.
"If you say so…" He finally nodded and walked closer to the desk on the other wall, picking up his stuff from his pockets — keys, wallet and phone — and placing it next to a book pile.
Jazz took this as her cue and picked up the pajamas, quickly hopping towards the ensuite bathroom before Jason caught her and told her she shouldn't walk on her injured foot. When he finally realized she had made a run for it, she had already closed the door.
Jason dramatically sighed, making her giggle.
She made quick work of the clothes and put on Cass' pajamas, admiring how they flowed over her skin. She suspected some kind of silk blend, but didn't recognize the brand; not that she expected to recognize it, since she always bought clothes on sale and never worried about stuff like if they were in season or their fabric blends.
She splashed her face with cold water, noticing that the soap brand name was French and with fancy letters. She knew the Waynes were filthy rich, but she guessed that it kind of took a second place in her mind the whole evening. She was more focused on making a good first impression.
Jazz finished getting ready for bed and walked back into the room, her folded clothes in one hand, and hopped towards the same desk Jason left his things. On top of the book pile was Mansfield Park.
"Interesting literature for a fifteen year old." She picked it up, opening it in a random page, admiring the same sticky notes and annotations she had seen in the books he kept at the apartment, confirming he had always been such a nerd.
"Austen is hilarious," Jazz could hear the shrug in his voice, "what can I say."
She put the book back down and turned, finding her boyfriend watching her with those intense blue eyes. He was sitting on the bed, but hadn't gotten under the covers, opting to rest against the headboard to comfortably watch her every move.
Was he trying to make her self conscious on purpose?
"What?" She confronted him.
"Nothing." He quickly said. Too quickly.
When he didn't add anything else, she shrugged and hopped towards the free side of the bed. If he didn't want to comment on it, she wasn't going to push the topic. If this was about being self conscious about sharing a bed, or about his nakedness, he didn't have anything to prove or worry about.
Also, she was very sleepy. Whatever it was, it could wait until morning.
Of course, the bed was gigantic and very comfortable, a wild contrast to her shitty single back at the apartment. Maybe she should invest in a good bed, like she did with her couch.
She turned on her side, careful to not upset her injured ankle, and smiled at Jason, the "good night" on the tip of her tongue.
"Do you…"
"Hm?" She encouraged when he stopped.
Jason cleared his throat and tried again: "Do you not… find me attractive?"
Oh.
Hm.
It was time for that conversation? Well, not the time she would have picked, given that they were sharing a bed in his childhood room; but it is true that one does not pick where conversations happened.
Jazz shuffled around so she was sitting against the headboard too, and picked the hand that was closer to her. She played with his fingers for a moment, admiring how rough his palms were — vaguely remembering when she thought he was an athlete — thinking how she was going to approach this.
"Do you know what an asexual person is?" She tested the waters.
She saw him nod in the corner of her eye. "Yeah. Some of the working girls at the Alley once explained to me." Jazz nodded. This would make it simpler. "Are you that? Ace?"
Jazz hummed, tilting her head. "I don't know." She shrugged. "Never actually cared about labeling things. I just know that there are things others care about that I don't."
"So you never…?"
"Being ace and having sex are not mutually exclusive." She finally looked up at him. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but his intense blue eyes made her blush and look away. "But no. I haven't slept with anybody before."
"Not interested?"
His voice was soft. And didn't let her guess what he thought about it.
Jazz wasn't going to lie, she had never considered that her lack of experience in sex, or lack of interest whatsoever, could become an issue in their relationship. She wasn't looking for a relationship in the first place, so she didn't plan for the scenario that her partner thought her disinterest in sex would be a dealbreaker.
Would it be for Jason?
"I don't know," she admitted out loud. "I've never— I was always too busy, and investing time in something I don't actually need always felt like a waste of effort."
He snorted. "Nerd."
"But it's true!" She giggled, letting her shoulders relax. She resumed playing with his hand. "It's not that I wouldn't have sex, ever; but more like I don't… care? Sexual attraction was never in my priority list when looking for a partner."
He hummed, considering her words.
"But I guess if you are interested I wouldn't mind it? If it's with you it's fine." She shrugged. She knew there were names and labels for the nuances of how she regarded sexuality, but she didn't research a lot. Once she understood what she felt was normal and had a term, it was enough for her.
He gently dislodged his hand from her to move his arm around her shoulders, trapping her into a half hug, and squishing her face against his naked chest. She placed a hand on the skin, admiring how warm he was, and vaguely tracing a few of the scars she found there. Mostly healed cuts and barely visible scratches, but she spied a gunshot wound closer to his shoulder.
"That's enough for me." He finally said, his voice rumbling in her ear. "And if that changes let me know."
Warmth bloomed in her chest, making her cheeks burn and her eyes water. Any worry she managed to amass since the conversation started had completely vanished, washed away by those simple words. Fearing rejection over something so simple felt silly after what they have already been through, but the confirmation that he cared hit her like a freight train.
"For the record," Jazz said, her voice a bit choked from emotion, "I do find you very attractive."
He squeezed her a little, his soft chuckles vibrating under his skin. "Of course, I'm such a catch."
"A complete snack." She smiled up at him.
"A straight up hottie."
Both giggled, faces close. Jazz was leaning more onto Jason, relishing on his warmth — seriously, this man was a furnace — shuffling a little bit so she could reach his lips.
They kissed softly, not really in a hurry to take things anywhere else.
"I've been wanting to do that the whole afternoon." He said when they parted.
Jazz smiled, readjusting herself so she could kiss him more comfortably, grabbing his hair with her free hand. "Me too." She said against his lips. "You look so cute when you are annoyed."
"I'm not cute." He bit her lower lip. "And you should warn me the next time you go all Dracula on me."
Jazz groaned and moved away, back to her place under the covers, flustered. "I already said I'm sorry!"
He followed, also getting under the blankets so he could pull her body closer to his chest, successfully trapping her in his arms.
"Just saying, if you need to bite someone I'm game but I need to be mentally prepared."
He was ready for her fight to get out of his arms, so he trapped her lips when she turned to retaliate. Jazz made angry noises against his lips, but eventually caved and kissed him back, relaxing a little.
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
And she really didn't, she thought, deciding to drop the topic and let herself be distracted by what he could do with his mouth.
Saturday morning in Wayne manor was peaceful. Jason was having shapeless dreams he wouldn't remember when he woke up, comfortable in the warmth provided by the body in his arms.
And then that peace and quiet was completely shattered.
"What the hell?"
Jason opened his eyes, already cursing himself for sleeping so deeply he didn't detect the presence in the room.
"I haul my ass as fast as I can because of a worrying and cryptic message," the voice continued, getting angrier and louder as he spoke, "to find you like— Like— ugh!"
"Danny?" Jazz sat up on the bed, rushing to get out of the covers.
"And he's naked. Great."
Jason tried to make his brain work, but it felt like it had been replaced with cotton. He reached for the night table, but of course he didn't have his knife. Because this wasn't his apartment. Right. They were at the Manor.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was when I couldn't find you?" Jason turned to look at the new person, finding Jazz's brother standing there. He was shorter than he expected, and also scrawnier. "I thought— Jazz, do you know where you are exactly?"
"Danny—" She stood up, yelped, and immediately fell back to the bed.
"What happened?" He pointed at her very obviously bandaged foot.
"I fell."
Danny looked unimpressed. He raised one eyebrow. "And it hasn't healed?"
"It's a long story." Jazz sighed, turned towards Jason. "He is—"
"You know what? I'm not awake enough for this." The brother interrupted, raising his arms to make a statement. "See you downstairs."
With that, Danny stomped towards the bedroom door, walked outside and stomped down the hallways without caring about closing the door behind him.
A few tense seconds passed.
"Charming."
Jazz huffed. "He's not usually that cranky." She stretched her arms over her head, sighing. "I guess it's time to face the music."
Jason nodded and told her to wait on the bed as he got dressed again.
Weird. Last night he felt like his skin was going to burst when he got undressed, waiting for Jazz to come out of the bathroom. Maybe it was the conversation they had, or maybe it was how easy things became when Jazz was with him; but right then he couldn't see how sharing a bed with her managed to make him so nervous. It felt silly and childish to care about something like that, especially when he had been intimate with people before.
Jazz felt different. Like he had more to lose. He already had decided he would do and would be whatever she needed and if that meant not ever sleeping together he was ready to accept it.
He knew the conversation wasn't over regarding the topic, and he had a million more questions, but they could wait for when they weren't about to walk down for breakfast in his childhood home.
Once he was ready, he picked Jazz up in his arms like the previous night, enjoying her red cheeks and sneaking kisses just because he could.
She mostly stayed put, but right before he made the turn towards the kitchen, she grabbed his head and pulled him down for a deeper kiss, her tongue teasing his lips briefly before she let him go.
"Whatever happens," she whispered, "please remember I'm the same person."
Huh. Ominous.
The kitchen was the same as it always was — Alfred's personal haven, where he only allowed the worthy to enter or even assist with cooking.
Right then, the old man watched, entranced, as Danny made wide gestures and huffed and paced around the enormous kitchen, one of Tim's gigantic coffee cups in hand.
" — and I told him he could shove it where the sun doesn't shine!" Danny took a sip of the coffee. He looked stressed and not really aware of his surroundings. He probably just picked a cup and got absorbed into his monologue. "But guess what, there's no sun in the Realms! So he just looked at me like I was an idiot!"
Alfred hummed, a smile teasing his lips.
"I know right?" Danny grumbled, looking at his cup. "Hey do you have a refill, Mr… oh crap I forgot to ask for your name."
"Alfred Pennyworth, mister."
"Alfred." The young man nodded enthusiastically. "Very british. I'll remember that."
Someone snorted, coming in from behind Jazz and Jason frozen at the door. This made Danny turn towards his new audience, grimacing when he saw his sister in Jason's arms.
"You!" He shouted, pointing a finger at his sister.
"Me." She answered, letting Jason place her on one of the stools at the big kitchen island.
Danny stomped towards the other side of the island.
"You!" He growled. "Don't you ever do this to me again!" He slammed the empty coffee cup on the marble surface. Miraculously the porcelain didn't even crack. "I thought another crazy billionaire had kidnapped you to make you fight me to the death, and I find you canoodling with this— this— this guy!"
Jason didn't even take offense. The display was entertaining enough. Also, what was that about "another" crazy billionaire kidnapping Jazz? To fight to the death?
"Hello Danny." Jazz said calmly. "As I was trying to tell you before, this is Jason," she made a gesture towards him, but didn't tear her eyes from her brother, "and he's my boyfriend."
The younger man's face went through the five stages of grief in a matter of seconds. His eyes flashed green for a moment, before he closed them and swallowed. When he opened them again, he was glaring at Jason instead.
"Jazz."
"Yeah?" She answered, giving her thanks to Alfred when he placed a fresh cup in front of her.
Jason accepted his own cup, vaguely registering Dick taking a seat next to him. Or Bruce choosing to become as invisible as he could and shuffle around the kitchen toward where Alfred observed the showdown from a safe distance.
"Jasmine."
"Daniel." She sipped her cup, grimacing a bit. She wasn't a huge fan of coffee. "Hey, did you bring my medicine?"
Still glaring, he reached inside his chest, casually pulling out a little white box. There was something made of glass inside clinking when he slid it across the island for Jazz to catch. When she opened it, six fresh vials of Lazarus Waters glowed inside.
"Six?" She noticed. "They look really good."
"Had a good batch this time." He nodded, his glare losing intensity under the praise. But immediately glared at Jason again as if remembering he was supposed to be mad. "And don't change the topic."
"What topic?" Jazz ignored her brother while she picked one of the vials, uncorked it and poured the contents in her cup.
Jason crossed stares with Bruce, speechless as both watched Jazz drink the whole thing in one go. She made a face.
"It's better with tea."
"Oh don't you start."
"Start what?" She winced. Her eyes started glowing a bright green. She looked in pain for a moment, but as quickly as it came, it was gone.
"Jazz."
"Danny." She checked her cup was empty, turning it upside down over her waiting open mouth. A few drops fell on her tongue.
The younger brother slammed his hands on the marble. "Stop ignoring me!" He complained. "And explain yourself. What's with Mr Muscles over there? What the hell have you been doing?"
Jazz softly placed the cup on the island. She folded her hands, and finally looked at her brother. "I told you. He's my boyfriend."
"Jazzy, Jazzy, we talked about this," Danny grabbed his hair in despair. "You have terrible taste in men."
"Excuse me?"
"Is this going to be like Johnny? Is that it? A bad boy with a motorcycle and leather jacket makes eyes at you and that's all it takes?" Danny glanced at Jason. "No offense."
"None taken." He wasn't sure he was supposed to speak, but did anyway. Danny was hilarious.
Dick choked on his coffee.
"He's not like Johnny." Jazz defended herself. "Jason is—"
"Or maybe like the other one?" Danny interrupted. "What's-his-name— David! Yeah. Is this a repeat of that one?"
It was Jazz's time to slam her hands on the marble. "He is not like him!"
Danny bristled, a soft hissing sound blooming in his throat. "Are you sure? Because that one— what was the report? Dislocated shoulder and a shattered hand?"
"I told you I didn't need your help!" Jazz bristled as well, exposing her fangs in an angry hiss. "And he is not the same!"
"That's what you said the last time!" Somehow Danny became taller. Was he floating? His pitch black hair moved like hit by an invisible breeze, too. "No offense."
Jason didn't know if he should laugh or intervene. "None taken." He assured again, controlling his smile.
"And you the one to talk?!" Jazz's hands tensed. "Should we talk about your horrible taste in women? Huh?"
"Don't you—!"
"Paulina!"
"It was in highschool!" Danny growled. "What are you—"
"Valerie!" She growled back. The sound wasn't animalistic, but still not quite human. Jason had never heard something like that, even less coming from the chest of his sweet girlfriend.
"What about her!"
"She tried to kill you!"
"But she never succeeded!" Danny bared his fangs. "And we are cool now!"
What was even happening?
"Sam!"
"Hey!"
"She killed you!" Jazz's hair started to float, too, right the moment her eyes glowed green again. "Twice!"
That was apparently going too far. Danny's growl escalated to a full on roar, his body now floating closer to the ceiling. They could see his tapered ears and sharp fangs on full display.
Jazz glared at him from her seat, her hair rising and falling on beat with her heavy breathing; fangs bared and clawed hands raised, ready to fight her own brother. She opened her arms and exposed her chest, making Jason wonder what was about to happen.
In a blink of an eye, all hostility was gone from Danny as he floated towards his sister faster than the human eye could follow — one moment he was on the other side of the island and close to the tall ceiling, and the next he was hugging his sister like his life depended on it.
"I missed you." His voice was choked and muffled, but the emotion in it was obvious.
"I know." Jazz circled her arms around Danny like it was the most natural thing in the world. She pressed him tight against her body, her head on top of his, rubbing her cheek against his hair. "I missed you too."
Everyone held their breaths, waiting to see what Danny would say, but the young man was out cold. Soft snores resonated in the otherwise silent kitchen.
Jazz cleared her throat. Her smile was radiant and warm, like they usually were, as she turned to look at Jason. "Can I put him in your room? He will probably nap for a few more hours."
Dazzled, Jason just nodded and watched as she hopped down the stool on her — previously — injured ankle and quickly made her exit from the kitchen while easily carrying her brother.
Bruce cleared his throat when they stopped hearing her soft steps. "So…"
"Yeah." Jason licked his lips and decided to take a sip of his own cup of coffee. It was lukewarm. "That's, uh... That's her brother."
He looked down to where Jazz slammed her hands, finding a crack on the marble. It wasn't enough to compromise the structure, but it wasn't small either.
Choosing not to bring attention to that fact, he just sipped his coffee and ignored the barrage of questions from the others. It wasn't like he knew the answers anyway.
