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Jason only had one shot. One shot to end it all. One shot to make things right.
He couldn’t miss.
He narrowed his eyes, mentally calculating the distance and velocity and force he would need, conscious of the ever-ticking time on his window of opportunity.
No more stalling. He had the shot, he had to take it. It was now or never.
Deep breath. And… release.
His ammunition shot through the air, seeking out the target with devastating accuracy.
Success.
He sagged to the ground, careless of the frigid snow seeping into his hair. There was nothing more he could do. His work here was done.
He smiled to himself as boots clomped through the snow, footfalls heavy and clearly pissed.
Still, he didn’t open his eyes until the first drop of water landed on his forehead.
Dick Grayson glared down at him with half a snowball still melting in his hair.
“Jason,” he growled.
“Yes, Dickie?”
“You little shit.”
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”
“I- you… I almost won, I would have won, until you… you-”
Jason laughed. “Seem a little tongue tied there. Come on big bird, be a good sport. Gotta set a good example for the kiddos, right?”
Dick did not appear to care about his status as a role model at the present time, with the way his hands curled into fists and his jaw clenched. Usually, that look meant Jason was about to find himself on the other end of a lecture, or perhaps shoved into the nearest wall, with Dick’s hands gripping his jacket tight.
But today, the man had no moral high ground to stand on. Poor, poor Dickie.
“I did not freeze my ass off for seven hours, systematically picking people off one by one, in order for you to steal the victory out from underneath me. I didn’t pass up on Alfred’s perfectly perfect hot chocolate, made with hand-whipped sweet cream I might add, not to win.” His voice rose in fever and pitch with each word until he was practically vibrating in place.
God, it was nice to see him rattled.
Jason stood up, brushing the snow off his pants, then clapped a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Looks like ya did.”
He whistled on his way back to the Manor, wondering if Dick’s ire was enough to met the snow into a puddle around his feet.
…
“Jason won?”
“I don’t know why you sound so surprised, Drake. Todd is a worthy adversary. Have you forgotten my mother personally trained him extensively in combat? She would never have wasted years of her life and endless resources on Todd if he was truly as much of a simpleton as he looks”
Jason blinked. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.”
Babs rolled her eyes, then handed Jason a delicate porcelain angel. “Less roasting Jason, more hanging up ornaments.”
“Thank you, Babs.”
Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she pointed to one of the upper branches on the tree. “I said less roasting, not none. Now hang this on that branch, please.”
It was a reach, even for him, but Jason was able to secure the angel meticulously. It was one of Alfred’s favorites, a beautiful Waterford crystal gifted to him by Bruce’s parents.
With his back to the rest of the room, Jason couldn’t see the way Dick’s eyes tracked his Santa's Favorite Ho Ho Ho sweater as it rode up his back, piercing blue eyes locked on that pale sliver of skin, then drifting down to his jeans.
Dick jerked and ripped his eyes away from Jason’s ass when his phone buzzed with a text from Babs.
It was a peach emoji.
Dick groaned into his hands.
“Aw, don’t be sad Dickie, it’s not that bad,” Jason grinned at him.
“W-what?”
“You lasted a long time and even took out Cass. That’s gotta count for something.”
Dick’s cheeks pinked as Steph pantomimed smacking Jason’s ass behind his back.
“I, uh- I guess.”
“That’s the spirit!”
Babs took mercy on him and handed Jason another ornament to hang, giving Dick the opportunity to sink down into one of the large cushy chairs by the fireplace and hide his face in his hands, trying to think clean thoughts.
He was not very successful.
…
Jason wanted to call it a night.
With temperatures well below freezing, the wind cutting through all of his layers like they didn’t exist, and swirling gusts of ice and snow obscuring his vision, there was no point in finishing patrol.
It seemed like no one wanted to brave the weather today, not even Gotham’s underbelly— the streets were empty.
It was strange to see. Almost unnatural, for how busy Gotham normally was. Then again, this type of weather was not only miserable, but dangerous.
In preparation for the freeze, Jason had made sure the homeless population of Crime Alley and the Bowery had a warm place to stay and enough food and water to make it through the brutal drop in temperature.
He’d checked on the working girls, left extra blankets where he knew the street kids would find them, brought any stray animals to Damian for proper care, and told his informants they were off the clock for the next several days.
There was well and truly nothing left to do.
Thank god. He was far more used to the cold than Damian, who grew up in a desert, and Dick, who never seemed to adjust to Gotham winters the same way Cass did, but that didn’t mean he liked it.
Jason had spent more than a few icy days with little more than a thin shirt on his back and threadbare socks to protect his feet. He was very well acquainted with the cold.
It wasn’t a fond memory.
Now that patrol was over, he could either go back to the Manor or stay at one of his safehouses. The safehouse was closer, but the Manor had giant bathtubs and neverending hot-
Thwack.
Jason’s head snapped back as something compact yet lightweight smacked onto the side of his helmet.
A trickle of cold and wet slid off the helmet and onto his exposed neck, soaking the top of his collar.
A snowball.
Nightwing stood a few feet away with a crazy grin on his stupidly gorgeous face. Jason had never loathed him more than he did in that moment.
“Revenge is a dish best served-“
“Don’t say it, you bastard.”
“Cold.”
Jason growled, then launched himself across the space.
Nightwing took off running, his extra grip shoes barely holding any traction on the ice. That didn’t slow him down one bit. If anything, it made him faster. His laughter echoed in the wind and made its way to Jason, impish and free in a way that conjured up a smaller Dick Grayson, adorned in a careless smile and green panties to boot.
He flipped across to the next rooftop, and Jason leapt after him.
“Oh my god, you’re such a sore loser, Hood.”
“Shut the fuck up! You’re so annoying!”
Nightwing saluted as he caught the edge of a fire escape and used it like a pole, sliding down to the ground and disappearing in the sleet and snow.
Oh hell no.
Jason caught up to him a few yards away and used his entire bulk to throw the lithe acrobat to the ground.
Dick had always been difficult to pin down, wriggling around like he had no bones and slipping out of every hold. Today was no different.
Half a second later, Jason found his hands empty, and he grunted as a weight slammed into his back.
“How do you like it, huh? There’s no need to flex on people by throwing your weight around, it’s rude.”
Jason’s chest connected with the snow, but he used his momentum to flip over.
Unfortunately for him, Dick didn’t fight the flip. Instead, he moved with it, sliding seamlessly around Jason’s body until he was perched on his lap, Jason’s back to the ground.
Jason bucked his hips, but Dick wrapped his legs around him in a vise.
“What are you, a fucking spider monkey? Get off!”
“No.” Dick smirked. “This is payback.”
“Seriously? Is this really the time?” Jason gestured at the frigid, icy landscape around them.
“This is exactly the time, now take off your helmet.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Dick grinned savagely. “Take. Off. Your fucking. Helmet.”
Something was probably severely wrong with him for obeying Nightwing’s command on instinct. Something was also wrong with him for wanting that voice to boss him in a different setting, something much less PG.
Jason took his helmet off and set it to the side. The second he did, Dick caught his wrists and pressed them down into the snow.
“If I get frostbite, I’m telling Alfred it’s your fault.“
Dick didn’t quip back like Jason thought he would. In fact, he didn’t say a single thing. Just sat there, hips pressing down onto Jason’s midsection, eyes masked and unreadable.
Ever so slowly, he leaned down and placed his tongue on Jason’s collarbone, before leisurely licking all the way up to the base of his chin.
Jason laid there, frozen. Did Dick really just… lick him?
Nightwing’s breath was hot on his neck, where his lips still pressed into Jason’s pulse point.
Then, as soon as he had come, Dick was gone.
Jason didn’t move from the snow for a very long time.
…
Jason made his way back to the Manor in a daze, barely feeling the cold.
He didn’t want to make small talk with the family, not sure he could maintain it, so he climbed a large oak tree on the side of the house and snuck in through his bedroom window, the same way he did when he was twelve and afraid Bruce Wayne wasn’t the man that he seemed.
He was right of course, but not in the way he thought.
On autopilot, Jason ran a bath, stripped out of his uniform, shoved the wet suit down the laundry shoot made especially for occasions like this, and sank into the scorching water.
The heat and steam made him a little lightheaded, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. It was nice to stretch out, lay back, and clear his mind.
The best part of taking a bath at the Manor was the sheer size of the tub. It was practically a mini swimming pool in his own bathroom, and he didn’t have to fold in his limbs like he did at any of his safehouses.
The first time he saw the sizes of the bathrooms in the Manor, he’d scoffed. What on earth could someone possibly need all that space for? It was a waste. And though he still agreed that the money could be put to better use, he secretly loved the indulgence of a huge tub and all those fancy herbal soaps.
Jason’s body slowly relaxed in the water, and he did his best not to think about what transpired that evening. He’d overthink it later, playing the memory over and over again in his mind, memorizing the Dick’s weight on his hips and the feeling of his tongue tracing a path up his neck. He’d question and analyze the situation from a million different perspectives, searching for an explanation that made sense.
There would be time for all of that later. Right now, he needed a second to decompress. Just a few minutes of nothing but hot water and lavender scented body wash before he composed himself again.
Unfortunately for him, life had other plans.
“Hey Jason, can we talk?” The door to Jason’s room opened and shut with a faint click. “I know what I did tonight was out of line, and I just wanted to-”
Dick stopped in his tracks, staring through the open bathroom door at Jason’s flushed, freckled skin. His eyes bounced from plush pink lips to strong hands gripping the side of the tub to gorgeous pale thighs framing… framing…
“Dick.”
Dick yelped and launched himself out of the bathroom as if burned, one hand over his eyes as he slammed the door shut.
“Ohmygodohmygod I’m so sorry.”
After a few long seconds, Jason ran a wet hand through his hair and got out of the tub.
It seemed like they were going to have a capital c Conversation, whether he liked it or not.
All of his clothes were in the other room, so he wrapped the towel around his waist after he finished drying off.
He took two deep breaths, squared his shoulders, then opened the door.
The moment he came out, Dick stood up from where he’d been perched on Jason’s bed. His eyes tracked the towel, the wet hair, then the v between Jason’s pecs before snapping back to his face.
“Hi. Sorry. I came here to apologize for the… earlier.”
Jason raised an amused eyebrow at Dick’s fidgeting hands. That was a tick that only came out when he was really off his game or comfortable enough with someone that he dropped his guard. From the way Dick gnawed on his lower lip, Jason could easily figure out which situation applied here.
“So to apologize for licking my neck,” he drawled, taking in the other man’s slight wince, “you decided to ogle me in the bath?”
“I… it wasn’t really planned.”
“How do you accidentally lick someone’s neck?”
Dick huffed, glaring up at him. “I’m trying to apologize. Can’t you just accept the fact that I’m sorry and it won’t happen again?”
“It won’t?”
Dick tripped over his next sentence. “I… It… Not unless you want it to.”
Okay, this was getting a bit ridiculous. Wasn’t Dick supposed to be good at this sort of stuff? Looks like it was up to Jason to pick up the slack once again.
“Dickie, I’m going to make this very clear. You can leave right now and we’ll never speak about any of this ever again. Or…”
“Or?”
“Or you could stay.”
Dick’s pretty blue eyes blinked up at him in confusion, but Jason didn’t elaborate. Instead, he turned towards his dresser and reached down for the towel around his waist.
In the dresser mirror, Dick’s eyes widened almost comically. Jason waited a solid ten seconds, but Dick didn’t leave. Instead, his eyes stayed fixed on Jason’s hands, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly.
Despite the rapid beating of his own heart, Jason undid the towel and let it fall to the floor.
He wasn’t quite sure what to do from here, so he reached for the drawer that contained his sweatpants.
Dick caught his hand before it could touch the knob.
“Don’t.”
Then those hands landed on Jason’s shoulders, spun him around, and pulled him into a kiss.
Dick guided the kiss with a firm press of his lips, and Jason heeded his nonverbal instructions. He thought he’d be nervous- he’d been fantasizing about this moment for most of his life, after all- but it was almost like sparring or following Dick’s orders in the field. Knowing what to do was simple if he recognized his cues.
When Dick slid a hand into his hair, Jason followed the movement, tilting his head for a better angle. When Dick tongued his lower lip, Jason opened his mouth willingly, allowing the kiss to deepen with the introduction of tongue. And when Dick rubbed a thumb over Jason’s bare hip, he couldn’t have stopped his natural response even if he wanted to. He arched at the sensation, his bare chest pressing against the soft fabric of Dick’s t-shirt.
“God Jay, you feel…” Dick trailed off. He couldn’t stop looking at all of that bare skin on display, couldn’t decide where to focus. Jason’s wide freckled shoulders? The curl of hair at the top of his chest? His eyelashes, which fluttered each time Dick touched him? The options were overwhelming.
“I know,” Jason whispered back, equally taken in by Dick’s artfully disheveled appearance. “You too.”
Dick’s hair was tousled and messy, which was strange because he hadn’t touched Dick’s hair… right? At least, he didn’t have any recollection of it. But he must have been clutching or pulling or something, because his hair didn't look like that earlier. Neither did his lips— they weren’t nearly this red, weren’t nearly this shiny.
And wow, if Jason thought Dick was beautiful before, this was… it was otherworldly. He was practically glowing, and the way he looked at Jason… it was a look he’d dreamt about a million times over but never thought he’d live to see.
And yet, here Dick was. Standing in Jason’s bedroom, half hard in his yoga pants, looking at him and very clearly wanting.
Jason could die a happy man.
“What we do next is up to you,” Dick said. “We could stop while we’re ahead. Get dressed, steal some of Alfred’s Christmas cookies, maybe kiss under the mistletoe.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Or…”
“Or?”
Bruce would be pounding on the door if he could see Jason’s vitals right now. He hadn’t felt this nervous since… well, since maybe his very first meeting with the boy wonder. Could Dick tell his face was on fire right now? God, that’s embarrassing.
Still. A little embarrassment was a small price to pay, all things considered.
“Or,” Dick’s eyes glittered mischievously. “You’re naked, I’m half naked.” When did Dick’s shirt come off? That seemed like something Jason would have noticed, given how much he loved Dick’s golden skin. “Maybe we could do something about it.”
He leaned forward until their foreheads were touching, and he placed a soft kiss on Jason’s mouth. “It’s up to you, Jay. I’m down for whatever you want.”
“Do you, uh-” Jason cleared his throat, hating how nervous he sounded. Fuck it. Fuck everything. Consequences be damned, he was letting himself have this. “Do you have a preference?”
“Of course I have a preference, I mean look at you.” Jason became intimately aware of his body as Dick ran his eyes down the length of him, staring leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world. “I mean- god Jay. You’re a smokeshow.”
“Who says things like that?” Jason scoffed, even as the compliment warmed his face.
Dick was still looking at him.
“Someone who knows a beautiful man when he sees one.”
“Flatterer.”
“Flattery implies insincerity, but I’m completely serious. Your body is something that deserves to be appreciated.”
And wasn’t that a thought. Jason wasn’t quite sure he agreed, but now was not the time for that particular insecurity.
His voice came out gravelly when he responded. “And you’re willing to do this ‘appreciating’?”
“If you let me.”
Could it really be that simple? He could just… let him, and then Dick would touch him? He wanted to touch him?
Jason knew that if he said yes, his life would change drastically.
The rest of the family might hate him, if they found out about this. He knew where everyone’s loyalties lay. If there was ever a choice between the two of them, everyone would choose Dick, no questions asked.
But then again, so would Jason, every damn time.
And of course, there was also the problem of Bruce. Bruce would never forgive him for corrupting his golden child, and Jason would never be able to look him in the eye again, knowing he caused a fissure in the family for his own selfish desires.
He also knew that, if he let himself have this, he would never find love, at least not in this lifetime. Because Jason had many flaws, but delusion was not one of them— he had always been very self aware. If he let himself have this, he knew he would never get over this moment.
He would always remember these hands, that dimpled smile, those eyes like an endless blue sky. He would always remember what it felt like to be loved by the most perfect man in the world.
A small price to pay indeed.
“Please.”
Dick touched him.
It was minimal at first. A hand on the small of his back, lips smiling crookedly into his neck, a small nip to his collarbone.
“You know,” Dick mused, smirking at the hitch in Jason’s breath as he worked a pretty little bruise into his skin. “I’m surprised you’re not pissed about earlier.”
Jason snorted, hands clutching both of Dick’s biceps. “I’m surprised you think that wasn’t a turn on.”
Dick raised an eyebrow, glancing lazily up at him. “Was it?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be some sort of detective?”
Jason’s heart sped up as Dick grinned. He knew that grin; it always meant trouble.
“You know, there’s one way to really find out.”
Then he took a grip of Jason’s hair and pulled, tilting his head back without warning. And just like the last time, he licked a stripe from the base of Jason’s neck all the way up to his jaw.
This time, Jason felt every single millisecond of wet warmth gliding against his skin, sampling him. Teeth scraped against the sensitive skin underneath his ear, then bit down ever so slightly, shocking a whimper out of Jason’s mouth.
“Yeah, I think it’s safe to say you like it.” Dick glanced pointedly down at Jason’s fully erect cock.
“I’m secure enough in my manhood to admit that a hot guy using my neck like a popsicle is a turn on for me.”
“Wowwwww, is this a regular occurrence for you? And here I thought I was special.”
Dick’s question was lighthearted and teasing, but Jason’s voice softened anyway. “You are, there’s not- there isn’t anyone else. It’s just you. It’s always been you.”
“Jason…”
He kissed Dick so he couldn’t finish whatever he was going to say.
He didn’t want pity, and he didn’t want a confession either, not if this ended up being a one time thing. He couldn’t afford to get his hopes up— the drop back to reality was going to be hard enough as it was.
Dick trailed his fingertips up and down Jason’s back, tracing indiscernible patterns against his skin. “Most beautiful boy in all of Gotham.”
“All of Gotham, huh?”
“And all of New Jersey. Most likely the entire eastern seaboard. Probably the US. Maybe the world. But only if Clark is in space, because damn, that jawline.”
Dick Grayson was an idiot. Jason Todd was also an idiot, because he was in love with this man.
“Fuckin’ Superman fanboy.”
“Don’t worry,” Dick looked up at him from underneath his eyelashes. “I’m a Red Hood fanboy too.”
Jason opened his mouth to ask if he seriously thought that line was gonna work, when Dick grinned wickedly at him, reached down Jason’s back, and squeezed.
Oh it was so on.
In retaliation, he grabbed a fistful of silky black hair and yanked, licking a stripe up Dick’s neck as payback for earlier. From the way Dick ground forward into him, he was more than happy with this arrangement.
From there on out, it was a battle of who could make the other person sigh or moan or curse the loudest. Jason was pretty sure he was winning, but from the feral grin look in Dick’s eyes, he thought the same thing.
They both ended up on the bed, Jason perched on the edge with a half-naked Dick Grayson writhing on his lap.
All in all, there were worse places he could be.
Meanwhile, Dick was trying his best to drive him crazy, taunting and teasing Jason with his body. He had no shame in rolling his hips sinuously, poking the bite marks on Jason’s neck, and feeling up his chest.
The stupid man couldn’t keep his greedy hands off Jason’s pecs for long enough for Jason to think straight.
With a growl, he leaned back on the bed with the intent to flip them both over, but Dick noticed the motion and held his shoulders down.
“Nice try babygirl, but I want to feel you under me.”
And well, Jason couldn’t argue with that logic. Though in all honesty, he was having a hard time focusing on anything other than the use of baby and girl in a sentence describing him.
He watched with hooded eyes as Dick stripped off his final article of clothing, dark blue boxers, then reached into Jason’s side-table to locate a bottle of lube.
Jason’s face burned at the implication, but Dick didn’t seem to notice.
“Hey hun, look at me. There you are. Are you sure you want to do this?”
Jason swallowed, but nodded. If only Dick knew just how much he wanted this, how long he’d fantasized.
“Where do you keep your condoms?”
“Are you clean?” Jason’s chin jutted out in a defensive posture, and Dick hesitated.
“I am, but there’s nothing wrong with using a condom. I’m not going to leave or storm off if you want to use one.”
“I know, I just…” The truth was, Jason didn’t have any condoms. He’d only ever wanted one person, and he was so sure that person would never want him back, so there was no need for anticipatory measures such as condoms. “I’m clean. Do we have to use one? I wanna feel you.”
Dick’s eyes darkened, pupils expanding at the confession, and he captured Jason’s lips in a deep kiss.
“Okay sweetheart, we won’t use one this time. I’m gonna get you ready. Is that okay?”
Jason nodded, then spread his legs to either side. Dick ran his hands up Jason’s thighs, slowly, tantalizingly, and groaned.
“The legs on you, doll, oh my god. You could kill a man with legs like these.”
“Actually I have.”
Dick paused. “I probably shouldn’t find that hot, but fuck that’s hot.”
And boy if that wasn't a boost to Jason’s ego. He preened under the attention, feeling sexy and attractive and lewd in the best way possible.
But then cool hands were cupping his asscheeks, thumbs slipping into the middle to spread them, and Jason gasped.
This part, this was new to him.
He couldn’t look at Dick, didn’t know what to say or do. He was so exposed, and he’d never handled vulnerability well.
Before Jason could get any words out, Dick slipped a slick finger into him.
“God, you’re so warm.”
Jason took a deep breath to compose himself, then smirked. “Admit it, boy blunder. I’m hotter than you.”
Dick just laughed. “That’s never been a contest.”
A second finger slipped in, pumping in and out, and the stretch felt strange, but not in a bad way.
He spread his legs wider as Dick added a third finger, babbling praise the whole time that set Jason’s teeth on edge.
“I always knew you’d take it well.”
Jason’s heart stopped. “You’ve… thought about this?”
Dick sped up, and Jason yelped as those long, callused fingers found his prostate. “How could I not? I mean… you’re you. Gorgeous, tall, kind, funny, and goddamn sexy as hell.“
Oh.
“And does the real thing meet expectations?”
The question was supposed to be coy, but it came out uncertain instead, betraying a bit too much of Jason’s insecurities.
Shit.
Dick pulled his fingers out, ignoring Jason’s whimper of loss, then slid up his body, clean hand cupping Jason’s cheek.
Jason would never forget the way Dick looked in this moment, all soft eyes and flushed cheeks, looking down at him like he was valuable. Like he was worth something, for once in his life. His mind refused to let him think the word treasured, but it echoed in his heart.
What did he do to deserve something like this?
“Jason, you are better than I ever dreamed.”
If a few tears clung to Jason’s lashes, he blamed it on the feeling of Dick pressing inside, spreading Jason open and burying himself down to the hilt.
It was so… intimate, being close like this. Foreheads pressed together, fingers threaded on either side of Jason’s head, hips touching as Dick thrust inside.
There were so many different sensations at once, it was overwhelming.
The feeling of having something inside of him was strange, different than he was expecting. He wasn’t sure what to think about it, until Dick shifted to a different angle and pleasure shot up Jason’s spine.
“That,” Jason gasped out. “Do that again.”
Dick kissed the words from his lips, then hit the same spot again. “Your wish is my command.”
And yeah, now Jason understood why people liked this. Pleasure crested in waves through his body, and his back arched as he sought even more friction.
He could get used to this.
“Harder.”
Dick went harder.
“Faster.”
Dick went faster.
Jason was so close to coming undone.
“How did I get so lucky?” Dick murmured against Jason’s lips, kissing him gently even as he pounded into him.
The words were nearly identical to Jason’s own thoughts, and later, he would turn the phrase over and over in his mind. He would calculate the probability that Dick meant what he’d said versus the probability that it was all pillow talk, spoken in the heat of the moment.
He would look at Dick and wonder how someone like him could think someone like Jason was any sort of good luck.
But right now, there was no time for self-deprecation or reflection or even contemplation.
In fact, there was barely room for thought at all. All Jason could focus on was sensation, and all he could feel was warmth. Dick’s breath was warm and his lips were warm and his hands were searing brands across his arms, his neck, his back. Everywhere he touched was a brand.
And of course, Dick’s cock was a brand too, marking Jason from the inside out.
Everything wasn’t perfect— the fingers in Jason’s left hand were starting to cramp from holding hands for so long, and Dick’s knee was kinda squishing his right foot. But he could feel Dick’s weight was pressing down on him, grounding and tangible, and right now, they were completely entangled.
In this moment, Jason was known and wanted and cared for and claimed.
And that was better than perfect.
It was real.
…
Afterwards, they simply held each other, exchanging stupid jokes and lazy kisses until Dick decided it was time for Jason to go back into the bath.
He claimed it was an opportunity for Jason to clean off since he’d been interrupted earlier, but Jason was pretty sure it was an excuse to get in the bath with him and touch him some more.
These touches were much more innocent than their earlier activities.
This was touching without any intentions— a loofa dragged across his skin, two hands lathering shampoo into his hair, a palm cupping his neck as he was lowered back in the water to wash the conditioner out.
He thought it might be too much, but somehow it wasn’t.
In fact, some of it was kind of… fun, like teasing Dick for having an unhealthy fascination with his freckles and splashing each other with water in a mimicry of their earlier snowball war. And some of it was sweet, like gently wiping the water from Dick’s face with his softest towel.
“Come downstairs with me?” Dick murmured, looking particularly young as he disappeared into Jason’s sweatshirt. “I’m not tired yet, but I don’t want to be alone.”
“Course, Dickie.”
And in typical Dick fashion, he chose the sofa right in front of the festively decorated Christmas tree they’d set up a few days before.
The fireplace had long since been extinguished, so the only illumination came from the twinkling lights on the tree, casting a hazy glow across the room.
Jason settled onto the sofa, and Dick made himself at home in his lap, snuggling in and pulling Jason’s arms to wrap around him.
“That’s the gift I got you,” Dick said, pointing at a sloppily wrapped box with a huge bow, right front and center of the tree.
Jason eyed it suspiciously. “Why is it so big?”
“That’s what she said.”
“Oh fuck off,” he lightly shoved him, trying and failing to hide his grin. “That one over there is yours.”
The present Jason got Dick was significantly smaller, precisely wrapped, and nearly hidden by a different gift.
“Aw, it’s so tiny and cute!”
“That’s what she said.”
“Joke stealer! You now have to tell me what you got me, since you stole my joke literally two seconds after I said it.”
“It wasn’t ‘literally two seconds’. More like twenty.”
“Jason,” Dick whined. “Tell me.”
Jason chucked and pulled the smaller man closer to his chest. “Always so impatient.”
“Hey, I’ve been patient! I’ve been into you for months now, but I was patiently waiting for you to come to me.”
“Yeah well, that probably wouldn’t have happened, so you could have been a little less patient. Just so you know.”
“Smartass.” But Dick was smiling, Jason could hear it in his voice.
“Maybe that’s what I got you for Christmas. A smartass.”
“Nah,” Dick reached back and pinched Jason’s backside. “Your ass is much too fat for a box that small.”
“Maybe not. You never know.”
Dick yawned and nestled his cheek into the soft fabric of Jason’s shirt. “No, I know.”
“Go to sleep, Dickie.”
“Only if you stay.”
Jason huffed a laugh, then stroked the hair back from Dick’s forehead. As if he could leave now. “Of course. Now sleep.”
Later would come gifts and Alfred’s Christmas feast and sugar sweet mistletoe kisses.
Later would come nerf gun wars and reading by the fireplace and Cass’s yearly Christmas recital, pirouetting as Jason played Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas on the piano.
Later would come laughter and arguments and traded blows, training and crying and loving and growing together.
But for now, as far as Jason was concerned, the future didn’t matter. In the golden glow of the tree his family decorated together, he held a boy in his arms. He loved the boy, and later, much later, he would tell him.
And as Jason drifted off to sleep, the thought came unbidden in his mind, soft as the set of footsteps he could just barely hear, as Bruce turned the corner and stopped short at the scene in front of him.
His family was together, he was whole, and everything was as it should be.
Once again as in olden days, happy golden days of yore.