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This was the best idea Dick had ever had. Yes, even better than the time his dryer broke and he thought to use his grappling hook as a clothing line. It was just what Jason needed, to take his mind off of things. Being stuck in your sixteen-year-old body because of a rogue magical teeanger with anger issues wasn’t the greatest (he could empathize more than most considering he happened to be sharing the same fate currently) but there was no reason to lock yourself in your room about it.
He’d caught the tail end of Jason’s screaming match with Bruce just hours before; the two going at it about quarantining in the manor for the duration of the spell (or until Zatanna got back from her “mission” with Dinah or whatever it is they’re calling secret dates between capes these days) while Dick’s mind was still a little fuzzy about why everything was so tall all of a sudden. It wasn’t until Jason had stormed out of the cave that Dick managed to catch on to the fact that no, that wasn’t the computer fans, but his stomach growling like the empty pit it was during puberty.
He should’ve paid better attention to Bruce’s withdrawn expression after; like seeing the ghost of a boy who’d haunted him for years, returned from the dead in a way the Red Hood could never compare. A boy who never got to just be a teen the way every other Bat kid did, something Alfred reminded him of when he made the tasteless comment over lunch about Jason reliving his “rebellious phase” like the old days. Alfred looked so sullen and disappointed (in him? Probably) but Dick wasn’t so blind not to see how much this age reversal was affecting everyone. Bruce couldn’t even look him in the eye when he dismissed him from patrol for the foreseeable future. If you can’t see it, you don’t have to acknowledge it; the old Bat motto.
So with nothing to do, nowhere to go, and a moody teenager upstairs probably reliving the trauma that robbed him of his High School experiences, this idea wormed its way into Dick’s overactive mind. Jason needed a distraction. They both needed a distraction, or else the burn of failure from letting himself get taken out by a stray spell would consume him. What an amateur mistake.
Anything to take their minds off of the past; Dick was keenly aware of how little time he spent with Jason at this age, causing the acid of guilt to eat at him with each step towards his room. There’d always been excuses, a mission, a date with Kori, an argument with Bruce, but really he couldn’t face seeing someone else in his colors. Even after he’d given the boy his seal of approval, he kept his distance and everyone could tell. Especially Jason. His attempts at contact eventually dried up (Dick felt sick remembering how relieved it made him that he didn’t have to pretend anymore) and Jason left without asking his allies, his family, for help. The amount of regret in this household could flood Gotham River.
Shifting on his feet outside Jason’s door, Dick’s thumb brushed the bouquet of lilacs he’d picked from the garden a few minutes ago and evaluated the Plan. Step one: the Invitation.
Knocking on the door firmly, Dick called out over the loud music, “Hey, um, Jay? Can I talk to you for a sec?” Damn he forgot how squeaky his sixteen-year-old self sounded.
There was a thump against the door as the music volume increased. “Go away, Dickhead. Just because I’m stuck here doesn’t mean I want to see your ugly mug.”
“Please, Jay? I promise it’ll be worth it.”
He scoffed. “Unless it’s an escape plan, I don’t want to hear it.”
“As a matter of fact, it is. In a way…” His smirk was audible and Jason could tell because moments later the music quieted and his slim form peeked out.
It stole Dick’s breath away how much Jason had changed over the years; at this age, his height matched Dick’s but his clothes hung from a slimmer frame which hadn’t gained enough muscles yet from patrolling. With curly hair which fell into his eyes, baby fat which stubbornly clung to his cheeks, and a smattering of freckles he could imagine multiplied in the sun, Jason was an absolute catch. The girls (and guys) at school must’ve tripped over themselves for his attention.
The grip on his flowers loosened at the thought but he held firm against doubt. As far as he could remember (including such reliable sources as Alfred AND Roy,) Jason never got to have that high school first date and Dick would be damned if he didn’t take it upon himself to remedy this oversight now. Of course, it had nothing to do with any feelings remotely resembling guilt, his mind reminded him as he held out the flowers.
Jason glared at the lilacs, perhaps willing them to wilt on the spot (like Dick’s confidence in this plan all of a sudden) and said nothing.
Clearing his throat, he presented his most charming smile. “Jason. I know we’re stuck like this for now but we don’t have to be stuck around the house. Rather than risk being caught by Tim and the others who will inevitably use this as blackmail, why don’t we go out for a bit? Take our minds off of things, get some food, maybe catch a movie. You know, regular teen stuff. You dig?” By the end, he wanted to smack himself in the face. You dig? Seriously?
His face felt as hot as Jason’s stare. The silence was agony, his adrenaline spiking as he yearned for Jason to save them both the misery of this terrible, awful, idea by knocking him out; spare them both the embarrassment.
“What?”
“Okay, so I kept thinking about how you never got to have a stereotypical first date in high school, my sources confirmed it don’t lie to me Jace, and considering I am also now a teenager and have extensive dating experience, well not extensive but you know, people do call me charming for a reason, anyway, I figured it’d be best for both of us to get out of the house and let me make up for lost time by treating you to your very own First Date! So what do you say?” he rambled.
Dick really thought his resolve was stronger but he could never lie to Jason. Something about him always knocked his walls down, causing Dick to spill truths he didn’t even realize were brewing inside of him. For someone who’d made a life out of constantly performing, out of changing one mask for another, Jason’s ability to force him to just be himself!(every ugly, furious, part of himself) unnerved him. No wonder he kept him at an arm’s length without meaning to, that kind of power scared Dick. He couldn’t afford to be exposed like that, not after everything that’s happened to him.
Breathless, blushing, and one awkward laugh away from outright running away, Dick thrust the flowers into Jason’s hand and reminded himself that dates don’t typically go down on one knee so that would be highly inappropriate now, even if his legs were shaky.
Yikes, maybe don’t think about marriage right now, buddy, that’s a whole can of worms no sixteen-year-old is capable of dealing with, he thought to himself as Jason examined the purple flowers with disbelief. Especially a sixteen-year-old with your failed dating history.
“A date? Dicholas, what have you been smoking?” He hadn’t thrown the flowers in his face yet, which must be a good sign, right?
“I’m serious! What do you have to lose?” Any respect he might’ve had for Dick, but he was willing to risk it to make Jason (forgive him for his past failures) happy right now. “Please?”
He’ll maintain it was his puppy dog eyes that swayed Jason, but surprisingly the teen sighed and gently placed the flowers in his room. “Alfred’s gonna kill you for cutting these, you know.”
Dick mentally danced as the two meandered their way to the garage. He couldn’t believe it worked! Jason’s shoulders remained tight, head held high as if expecting to dominate space the way he did as an adult, and his frown remained deeply etched on his (admittedly cute) face the whole walk there. Another goal to add to the list for today, it seemed: make Jason loosen up and smile.
The journey seemed endless (Dick blamed their shorter legs) but they found the expansive garage as spotless as ever. He doubted half of these cars had been used in the last six months; most were used for show, some for maintaining the Wayne persona around the city, but, as he’d learned from accidentally spying on Jason one day, some were for him to work on while he chatted with Alfred for afternoon tea.
He pretended to contemplate which car to choose as if he hadn’t thought through every detail of this plan multiple times, including contingencies for any kind of inconvenience or emergency they might come across from unexpected rain to a sudden Joker attack (the latter would be more their luck, but he hoped the universe could be satisfied for now with forcing them both to endure puberty once more.) He steered Jason’s reluctant form away from the motorcycles, aware that it was more their style but aiming for a different vibe today, and stopped at the cheapest car in the garage: Bruce’s old, beat-up mustang for when he needed to be Matches Malone.
“Are you serious?” Jason groaned as Dick opened his side door with a flourish.
“Do you want to get out of here or not, Jaybird?”
The teen stood sullenly, arms crossed like the defiant brat he liked to be when Alfred wasn’t around, before he grit his teeth and shoved Dick away to get in the car. This “date” was going great so far.
It didn’t take much to leave the manor (why would Bruce be watching them when he clearly couldn’t stomach such physical reminders of the past) but the drive into town was excruciatingly quiet. Every attempt Dick made to lighten the mood, to turn the perfect music on, to ask Jason about his latest adventures with Roy, were immediately shut down. Slumped in the seat, eyes fixated on the window, he refused to even meet Dick’s eye when he asked about food.
“I don’t care.”
Sighing, Dick told himself this was what they needed, things were fine, he was already on to Step 2: The Dinner. If he white-knuckled the steering wheel the whole way there to avoid snapping at the drag in the passenger seat, no one needed to know but him.
Miss May’s Diner was one he’d taken all his dates to ever since he could remember, having discovered it’s classic food during a patrol gone wrong back in middle school. He’d caught the perp after crashing through the front entrance and felt so bad about the damage that he offered to work off the money for repairs. Those days spent in the kitchen, sweaty mask and all, as he flipped burgers under Miss May’s watchful eye, were unforgettable. He still had burn scars on his legs from the unfortunate mixing of scaly hot pants and hot grease, but he’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.
On occasion, he’d stop by during patrol to catch up and always came away with a free meal (of course he tried to refuse each time but no one could tell Miss May no.) Some dates looked disappointed that the son of ‘Brucie Wayne’ hadn’t spoiled them with a fancy restaurant dinner when they came to the diner, so he found the place very handy in weeding out the shallow people not worth his time, too.
He also knew it was a place Jason could appreciate, and judging by the subtle drool he wiped off his chin as they walked past tables heavy with food, he could tell he succeeded. The booth he picked was his favorite, tucked into a corner with easy views of all exits and just far enough from the vintage jukebox that, should someone play an annoying number, it wouldn’t drown out conversation.
He plopped down on one side while Jason took the other, and stared at him expectantly as he opened the menu to browse. Dick, of course, knew what he wanted (the same thing he always got, you could never go wrong with a burger and fries) and he had an inkling of which one Jason would choose but he wouldn’t dare order for him. He’d made the mistake of doing that before on a date and got chewed out before the food even made it to the table.
Jason’s eyes skimmed, occasionally peering at Dick over the menu with increasing frequency until he dropped it altogether. “What?!”
Flinching back, Dick shrugged helplessly. “What?”
He huffed, “Why do you keep staring at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, like a creep!”
“Oh that’s very helpful, Jace,” he rolled his eyes.
“Hey, I’m not the one giving you that weird expectant look.”
Dick frowned. “Expectant?”
Jason shifted in his seat, arms crossed as he scowled at the table surface. “I get it, this is such a great joke Dick, I’m glad you’re having fun, I’m glad I’m such a great side-show act for you to entertain yourself with while we’re stuck like this. But can you at least try to pretend like this isn’t--” he cut himself off with pinched lips as the waitress approached to take their drink orders.
“Water,” they both said in unison, as she walked off with a nod.
Dick felt off-balance in the silence after. He waited until he caught Jason’s eye before responding. “Jason...I’m not doing this to make fun of you or anything.”
He scoffed, tearing up the straw wrapper to probably keep himself from punching Dick. Maybe he deserved it for all the shit he’s shoveled into their relationship in the past.
With a deep sigh, Dick’s shoulders slumped. “I’m not. I don’t know how to make you believe me. I just…” he sighed once more as he rolled his unwrapped straw back and forth on the table. “I just wanted to do something nice...for once.”
Jason’s intense eyes finally stared Dick down in an attempt to assess the sincerity of his confession. Whatever he found seemed to satisfy him as his shoulders slumped an inch, just in time for the waitress to ask for their orders.
A burger and chili dogs later (he knew it) the atmosphere around the table had lightened considerably. Instead of prompting Jason to fill the silence, he’d started rambling about some of his greatest Robin blunders, including the story about working with Miss May.
“Are you kidding? In the suit and everything?” Jason chuckled as he leaned back in the booth, foot slipping next to Dick’s. Dick’s heart jumped at the contact but refused to move. Jason either didn’t notice or didn’t care so another side mission popped into his head, reminding him that this was first and foremost, a date, which demanded certain traditions be followed.
“Yep. The smell was delicious but incredibly hard to wash out. Even Alfred couldn’t figure it out! Bruce made me stop going on missions because I kept alerting the criminals to our presence with the scent of diner burgers.” As Jason laughed harder, Dick slid his foot purposefully against his.
Jason shook his head, taking a long sip of his water. “So that’s where the grease stains came from on the suit. I’d always wondered, but I knew you were too pretty to get your hands dirty under the hood of a car.” He twitched his foot in response but didn’t remove it completely.
Dick squawked with indignation (though a small part of him caught the way Jason called him pretty; a little too sincere, a little too genuine, like he really meant it.) “I’ll have you know, I have been under the hoods of many cars many times. I know my way around a tool kit.” He nudged the pant leg at Jason’s ankle, daring to brush his bare skin.
“Looking the way you do? I’m sure of it, Dickie.” His smirk was overshadowed by the way his foot hooked around Dick’s ankle in a complete turn of events.
Dick flushed, at the contact and the innuendo in Jason’s words, as he started to wonder just who was the one with experience here. It didn’t help that Jason’s sudden change in attitude during the meal had crashed Dick’s adrenaline hard; he felt dizzy from it all and chose to blame this next hiccup on that rather than any failed planning on his part, obviously.
“What do you mean you won’t accept it?!” he demanded as the waitress handed him back the credit card.
She narrowed her eyes at his tone of voice but kept hers level as she explained with more patience than either teen deserved, probably. “Look kid, you’re lucky I’m not calling the cops right now. Do you have any other form of payment I could use instead?”
He was flabbergasted. “Cops? What are you talking about?” Cops? He knows every cop in Gotham, even the corrupt ones.
Before she had to explain again (and before Dick made even more of an ass of himself than he already had) Jason cleared his throat and handed Dick the card again, tapping the name “Bruce Wayne” purposefully and oh, that’s why. He must’ve taken Bruce’s wallet instead of his. Oh fuck.
Slinking back into his seat, wishing the booth would swallow him whole, or maybe for a rogue to attack the city block and save him the humiliation of it all, Dick sheepishly tucked the card away and desperately searched for any cash, dear God, please, why doesn’t Bruce carry cash?
The waitress tapped her foot the longer it took to search until Jason sighed and slid a $100 bill onto the table. “Keep the change, ma’am. Sorry about him.” He waited for Dick to slither out after him and waved her and her dumbstruck expression goodbye.
In the car, Dick slammed his head against the steering wheel repeatedly while Jason cackled next to him. “Well, I guess this is what dating is like, isn’t it? Get asked out and stuck with the bill.”
Whipping his head up, Dick stared at his relaxed posture spread out over the seat and felt a pang of want in his gut. Jason was beautiful when he smiled. He’d made that beautiful boy smile (call that a partial mission success.) Maybe this wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.
“Well, this date is far from over, Jaybird. There’s still time for me to woe you.” They still had Step 3 of the plan to get to after all: the Movie.
“Woe me? I thought this was just to get the ‘high school dating experience’ I seemed to have missed out on.”
Dick grinned at him as they pulled out of the parking lot. “It’s all part of the process. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about. I’m Bruce Wayne after all.”
That had Jason bursting with laughter all over again; he doubled over in the seat, hand on his chest as he slapped the car door repeatedly, but all Dick could do was stare and smile at him. Maybe he was getting a little too much enjoyment out of this. How else could he explain the fluttering in his chest right now?
“Two tickets to Wings of Death, please?” Jason rolled his eyes playfully as Dick dug out the emergency cash Bruce kept in the glove compartment of the car. He’d spent an embarrassing amount of minutes in the parking lot frantically searching for anything to prevent Jason from paying more, while said teen teased him about who Bruce probably banged in that particular car as Matches Malone. Which, gross, considering he’d last seen Matches palling around with Dent downtown for one of Bruce’s “missions” (again with the “secret missions” and capes, could they be any more obvious?)
“Wings of Death? Are you kidding?” Jason laughed as the two bumped shoulders into the lobby.
Dick shook his head. “What did you expect Jay? A romantic comedy?” Seeing Jason’s red ears as he looked away made Dick stop, his grin widening slowly. “Jay...did you want to see a romantic movie? I can exchange the tickets--”
“Just shut up Dickhead! It’s fine. I just didn’t think you’d be the type to enjoy that horror shit, is all.” Jason’s cheeks were redder than the cherry mix in the slushy machine behind them, giving Dick an incredible idea yet again.
“Pft, please. We get better horror movies during patrol every night. The only ones worth watching are the classics, honestly, but I’d heard this one had good jump scares. Why, you too chicken, Hoodie?” Dick leaned into his space, chests mere inches from each other as he bit his lips.
A myriad of expressions crossed Jason’s face from shock to hesitancy to curiosity as he took up Dick’s unspoken challenge. His hand came up to tuck a stray strand behind Dick’s ear, fingers barely brushing down his arm, gently (perhaps unconsciously) drawing the line of his famous suit finger-stripes across his wrist to the tips of his fingers. Dick’s breath caught, staring mesmerized into his flirtatious gaze as Jason leaned forward to whisper, “don’t forget the popcorn,” before swiftly walking into the theater room.
His brain raced as he was left at the line to the concession stand alone, heart stuttering in his chest as he grappled with what the fuck that was . Since when could Jason make him feel like this? Could he blame this hormonal teenage body for sparking like a lighter at Jason’s touch or was that just him? What was that look in his eyes, Dick half expected him to lean in and--
“He’s quite a catch. This your first time?” The chipper worker behind the counter broke his derailed train of thought.
“Uh...excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just that you two are cute together. I hope it works out for you! So, what can I get for you tonight, sir?”
He nodded, forcing his mask back on with an overeager smile. “Thanks! I do too,” possibly, “can I get uh, a medium popcorn, some of those chocolates, and...a large slushy, please?”
“What flavors?”
Dick smirked, grabbing two straws from the dispenser. “Cherry and blue raspberry mix, please.”
As expected, Jason’s face was priceless when he spotted Dick with the obnoxious combo. “You are a dick .”
“I thought I was Bruce?” He slid in next to him in the row Jason picked; the one furthest back with perfect routes to multiple exit doors. What could he say? Constant vigilance is Bat 101. Jason kicked his leg for the comment, no longer finding the dead joke funny anymore.
Laughing, Dick set up the food for prime snacking (just like the diagram he drew at the kitchen counter this morning) while Jason watched with an amused quirk of his (rather kissable) lips. Where the hell did that thought come from? “You really thought this all through, huh?”
He could only offer him a mysterious smile as the trailers started, making sure to leave both his foot and his arm draped casually against Jason’s. Purely coincidental, obviously. Once again he wondered if he was taking this whole date too far.
The thought distracted him as the movie played; too much CGI, flashing lights, and excessive religious imagery didn’t impress, but the jump scares were perfectly timed, like people said. He ended up watching Jason more than the screen though, asking himself why he wanted to do this? There were so many ways he could’ve distracted (himself) Jason from their predicament, why use the guise of a date? And why, for that matter, did he even want to help Jason? The best he’d describe their relationship before this was acquaintances, occasional co-workers, people with mutual friends but who never became friends themselves. But there was one thought that wouldn’t let him breathe, sinking like a weight against his chest, against his heart, as he watched Jason down a handful of popcorn without taking his eyes off of the screen, foot locked around his like at the diner (when did that happen?)
Why did Jason say yes to this?
Before he could even try to find an answer, the audience screamed in unison, startling Dick from his reverie. The killer had just appeared in the victim’s house on screen, causing quite a stir. However, he was more preoccupied with the teen beside him; having jumped reflexively, Jason’s warm, sweaty hand grasped Dick’s in an ironclad grip as if he was a safe lifeline to cling to.
Both boys sat stunned, equally embarrassed faces (thankfully) hidden by the darkened theater as the movie continued. Neither one wanted to acknowledge it, this crossed line, this breach of relationship. They’d never... held hands before. Not even when Jason was Robin. Not even when missions failed and they were collapsing against each other with open wounds. This was...a first, to say the least.
Jason attempted to retreat first, pressure gradually decreasing as opposed to the quick release that Dick was expecting, causing him to further wonder about Jason’s feelings towards him. It was almost as if...as if he didn’t want to let go. And, much to Dick’s great surprise, he didn’t want to let go either. So with a deep breath and a calm mind, Dick did what he did best: took a leap of faith.
Squeezing Jason’s hand firmly, he picked up the slushy and drank from one of the straws without taking his eyes off of the movie. Apparently the victim had managed to tear out some of the killer’s feathers, good for them. He could feel Jason’s wide-eyed stare burning his face, but he refused to back down. The gauntlet had been dropped. The challenge submitted. If there was anything both boys had in common, it was an excess of stubbornness.
Moments felt like hours before Jason relaxed back into his seat with a nod, grabbing another handful of popcorn with his spare hand. Dick’s nerves didn’t settle though until he lightly squeezed back, accepting the silent change. So there was something there after all.
Mind whirring with the possibilities, Dick barely paid attention to the rest of the movie as he focused on the burning point of contact between them. He almost didn’t notice when he reached for the drink and took a sip, looking up to see Jason’s wide-eyes staring at him from his own straw. Now they were sharing the drink. Dick had only done it as a joke to get Jason to laugh. But it was actually happening. What the fuck had this become? How many clichés were they going to butcher on this date?
Surprisingly, neither one jerked away, but there was an awkward pass back and forth as the two selflessly offered a drink to the other first. God, what was wrong with them? Maybe the magic had affected them more than originally thought if just a “fake” date could make them act like the bumbling teenagers they resembled.
Dick was almost grateful for the movie to end (what came after holding hands and sharing a drink in a darkened theater? Necking?) but resented the bright light for exposing them for the awkward messes they were. Faces flushed, hands still clasped together, feet tangled, Dick was glad Tim and the others weren’t there. Talk about blackmail material.
They gathered the trash without looking at each other, shuffling down the aisle with heads down as they made mindless small-talk about the movie neither one really paid attention to. There were more important things on both their minds, probably, considering neither one had let go yet. Dick hysterically wondered if maybe this wasn’t what he thought was happening, maybe they really weren’t swaying on the edge of a minefield of...something…(he couldn’t even bring himself to call it what it was, he was so stunned) and that this was just an elaborate game of chicken.
The night air cooled his face as they made their way back to the car. By the time they’d reached the doors, Dick had convinced himself that they were still having fun, that Jason had just finally given in to the game. That it was always just a nice, fun, game, pretending to go on a date for the sake of making up lost experiences. That’s definitely something pals do for each other from time to time, right?
So with a mask of nonchalance, Dick pulled his hand away and opened the door for Jason with an extravagant bow. “Quick, before your carriage turns back into a pumpkin again, your highness!”
Jason’s startled expression morphed into neutral annoyance at the teasing remark, as he climbed in without a word and slammed the door shut. Great.
With a deep sigh and a prayer that Alfred had restocked the freezer with his famous homemade ice cream for eating alone tonight, Dick slid in and silently drove them home. So they weren’t going to talk about it then. Jason remained closed off and turned away from him, much like how he started the day, and Dick felt the acid of guilt in his stomach churn like an old friend. Of course he ruined things again, just like he always ruined things with Jason. This really was a terrible idea, nice going, Grayson.
Jason barely waited for the car to roll to a stop before he was storming out of the garage and back to his room. Dick really had a knack for making things go from bad to worse, huh? Defeated by the day, by Jason, by his complicated and confusing and fucked up emotions, Dick lingered in the car with the movie tickets in his hand. What had gone wrong? Everything had been fine, they were finally getting along for the first time since...well, since ever , really. He’d just wanted to distract Jason from their problems, to do something nice (for once,) to give him something he missed out on; he just wanted to make him smile and relax.
Too bad he couldn’t keep his feelings in his pants, Dick thought sullenly as he trudged up the steps to Jason’s door. The music blared even louder than before and the devil on his shoulder urged him to just leave, to let the bad mood simmer, to sneak out against Bruce’s wishes tonight and take this frustration out on someone else (so it didn’t keep choking him.)
Shaking his head, he knocked loud enough to be heard and called for his fellow teen. “Jason...can we talk?”
The music paused, making the sudden silence echo around them as Dick waited. And waited. And waited. So it’d have to be like this then.
“I...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things awkward or anything between us. I just really wanted for us to have fun for once, to forget about how uncomfortable it is to be so--so powerless again. And hungry, god how am I still hungry? Fuck, I hate being sixteen again.” He laughed awkwardly but Jason didn’t join in. The silence had become deafening. “What I’m really trying to say is, I know I’ve been, well...a dick , to you in the past and I had hoped I could try to make this day fun for you but I fear I ruined it, like always, and wanted to apologize.”
He closed his eyes, unsurprised to find tears forming as his breath hitched. C’mon Grayson, keep it together, just tell the goddamn truth for once.
“And I’m sorry for all the times I pushed you away. It was a mistake, I never should’ve kept my distance like that when you were Robin.” He heard a thump in the room and looked up, hoping to see Jason’s face so he’d know his honesty was genuine. He always knew when Dick was lying, even when he wouldn’t call him on it. “And I don’t want to keep doing it now.”
He placed his hand on the door, listening for anymore movement but found none. Shoulders slumped and mentally evaluating how big of a spoon he wanted for that ice cream, he almost didn’t notice Jason stepping out of the room until the teen caught his wrist and pulled him close.
He had a split second to take in Jason’s flushed cheeks and nervous eyes before Dick found his lips pressed firmly against his. Time seemed to slow as Dick watched Jason’s pinched expression, admiring the determined scrunch of his brows and counting every freckle he could see, as he let the kiss linger for a moment before pulling back. Despite how tame the kiss really was, Jason was panting like he’d run a mile, having paled considerably at Dick’s stunned expression. That really just happened.
“I-I just, I thought, um, fuck Dickie, I’m sorry that wasn’t--I shouldn’t have--” Jason stuttered, gripping Dick’s arms tightly as if he couldn’t decide if he wanted to shove him away or pull him back in for more. Dick surprisingly (though probably not surprisingly anymore) hoped for the latter. He did want this. It all made sense...If only he’d known sooner.
He shushed the bumbling teen, running his hand through the untamed, curly hair at Jason’s neck and across to his soft cheek, pinching it lightly with a growing smile he couldn’t quite suppress. Jason flinched at the contact, releasing his death-grip to swat at Dick. Just like he wanted. Stealing the hand, Dick held on tightly with both of his and leaned in to gently kiss Jason back. This time he stood frozen as Dick squeezed his calloused hand in reassurance.
By the time they separated, both dizzy from the rollercoaster of emotions rattling through them rather than from the (admittedly mild) kissing, their hands were tightly clasped. This was really happening. He didn’t ruin things. God, was it always this overwhelming before or was this breathless giddiness because of the magic? Or maybe it was just because it was Jason.
“You know, we never officially finished our date,” Dick whispered in the empty hallway. Fuck, they were still out in the open. Thank God the others weren’t here to snoop on this tender moment; he couldn’t imagine Jason would take the teasing well, not in this tender state, anyway.
“Oh yeah? What else did you have in mind?” Jason waggled his eyebrows at Dick, glancing at his bedroom door with a smirk.
It startled a laugh out of him while his cheeks burned at the suggestion. “Excuse me, sir, I’m not that kind of gentleman. Never on the first date, anyway.”
Jason hummed in agreement though he said, “not even in high school?”
Dick punched him with his free hand before pulling him towards the kitchen with the other. “No, you ass. Now come on, I think Alfred still has some--”
“Some ice cream? Hell yeah. Best date ever!” Jason bumped his shoulder against Dick’s, tightening his grip on their hands. Despite all the differences between them (both as adults and as teens) their hands were a perfect match. As if they were made for each other. The thought made Dick smile as he began arguing with Jason about the best flavor to eat (mint chocolate chip, obviously) all the way down to the kitchens.
Maybe there was a reason no one saw through Dick the way Jason could. Maybe he finally understood the reason why he’d asked Jason on a date in the first place...and maybe, just maybe, he did know why Jason said yes after all.
Truly, the best idea Dick ever had.