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Rom-Com Meet Cute, Please?

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Jason’s minding his own business, about to head home for the night when a soft sound on the roof top makes him turn around. He has a bare second to react when he sees Nightwing running at him, oddly graceless, before launching himself at Jason. Although Dick’s going for a hug, not attacking; Jason’s not in the mood. He manages to sidestep him, but Dick grabs his jacket, spinning him around.

In the unlikeliest turn of events, Dick stumbles while doing this, and with the combined weight of both of them off balance, they fall back landing on the roof top; Jason on top of Dick like some sort of security blanket.

“Seriously, Nightwing?” Jason grunts, trying to pull out of Dick’s octopus like grip. He manages to get his hands flat on the roof top under them and push up; creating some space between his body and Dick’s sprawled out under him.

“Hoood! Nooo! Don’t go!” Dick squirms, shifting his hands from their grip on Jason’s jacket to wind them around his neck, pulling him back down.

“OK, what did you get dosed with?” Jason sighs, futilely trying to stop Dick from wrapping his legs around Jason’s waist too.

“Nothing!” Dick says sincerely, nodding drunkenly. “But I did have two whole bud lites!”

“Riight. I believe that. Totally.” Jason scoffs, staring down at Dick’s weirdly lax body. It’s weird because his grip is tight and almost impossible to pull out of, but there’s Dick looking... Attractively pliable.

“Don’t be mean!” Dick pouts up at him, his mask lenses covering up what Jason suspects are probably killer puppy dog eyes right now. “I just want to have a Rom-Com Meet Cute with you.”

“Nightwing...” Jason rolls his eyes under his helmet, finally managing to get his knees under him so he can sit up. It brings Dick up off the roof top too, which is a bonus. “This is not romantic, comedic, or a Meet Cute, since we already know each other.”

“Noooo!” Dick whines, sounding genuinely devastated. Jason sighs again. He’s had a long night, kicking ass and putting the fear of Red hood back into the Docks, and this is the last thing he needs right now.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Fine.” Jason slips an arm under Dick’s leg and stands up, hauling him over his shoulder. “I’m taking you to Leslie’s clinic to make sure you’re not going to die. Don’t squirm, or I’ll drop you.”

“Yay! My hero!” Dick says loudly, and far too cheerfully. Jason really hopes he’s just drunk and not dosed on the newest designer drug or supervillain toxin that’s making the rounds of Gotham this month... Although how the hell this happened while Dick’s in uniform is going to be a story, he bets.

“The cape spotters are going to have a field day with this. I can see the headlines on the internet forums now, and you’re the damsel in distress in all of them; I’m gonna link you to all of them for that sweet, sweet, revenge kick. I almost hope one of them gets video of this, so I can rub it in your face later.” Jason grumbles, shifting Dick on his shoulder. Dick flails his arms around Jason’s back, gripping onto the bottom of it. “What did I say about squirming?”

“You’re too nice to drop me.” Dick replies, and Jason would swear that if he wasn’t hanging upside down over his shoulder, the pun loving acrobat would sound smug about it. “Because you’re my hero!”

“Lies and slander, Nightwing, I’m no such thing.” Jason says loudly, smacking the meat of Dick’s ass cheek quick and hard; just to hear the sound of it echo around the roof tops around them. Dick squeaks, jolting on his shoulder before going limp.

“Oh my god, Hood, not in public!” Dick stage whispers, before dissolving into helpless giggles. Jason sighs wearily, and starts walking to the fire escape. Dick’s not the heaviest of the Bats, but carrying him over the roof tops sounds like a level of masochism Jason’s not willing to put himself through right now. He walks down the metal stairs heavily, keeping a tight grip on Dick’s leg and arm to stop him from bouncing around dangerously as they descend.

The streets are pretty much deserted by the time Jason’s boots hit the concrete. Hefting a gently snoring Dick, so that he’s hanging from both shoulders instead of one; Jason heads in the direction of Dr Thompkins’ clinic.

***

Jason pushes the door to the free clinic open with one booted foot and strides in. It’s so late it’s actually early, and the night shift staff aren’t particularly busy; which means he gets four pairs of eyes on him as he makes his entrance with Dick slung over his shoulders in a firefighter’s carry.

“Nightwing’s either drunk or drugged.” Jason announces, his voice modifier making his voice sound more sinister than it needs to be right now. “Also, where can I dump him?”

“Over here, Hood.” Leslie’s voice carries through the clinic waiting room. “Any symptoms bedsides altered mental state?”

“Balance seems a bit off, but no visible injuries.” Jason tells her, setting Dick gently down onto a gurney that Leslie immediately starts to wheel into an exam room. “He says he only had two bud lites, but uh... I don’t think he’s that much of a lightweight.”

“Nightwing, tell me about your evening.” Leslie says, pulling on latex gloves and picking up a needle and some empty blood sample vials.

“Oh, I was undercover at a club, looking for a mafia don. I had two bud lites while this guy was hitting on me, and then I started to feel really hot, so I went outside and stripped my outer layer of clothes off... And then I wanted to find Hood, because I want a Meet Cute with him, and I was talking about romantic comedies to the guy in the club... And then I found hood and he wouldn’t Meet Cute with me...” Dick pauses in his rambling to pout up at Jason. “And then he brought me here in a firefighter carry, which was super hot!”

“OK, I’m going to take a little blood, link the results to the computer in the Batcave and we’ll see what the tox screen comes up with.” Leslies says, proceeding to do exactly that. “You’ll tell me or Hood if you start to feel anything new or different.”

“Kay, Dr Thompkins!” Dick says, swaying on the spot where he’s sitting, and sounding like he’s reverted to the nine year old he was when he started crime fighting. Leslie gives Jason a significant look, which Jason takes to mean ‘don’t leave him’, and slips out the room to run the blood samples.

Jason's phone dings with a notification, and he takes it out as Dick lies back on the gurney and giggles up at the ceiling for no apparent reason. It's from Barbara. He opens it to be greeted with a grainy night photo.

“Yup, it’s started. See?” Jason turns his phone screen to Dick, showing him the photo of Jason carrying him earlier, complete with caption ‘are they gonna smash?’ “No one to blame but yourself.”

“Oh my god!” Dick lifts a hand to press against his mouth. “I do like blue. Jason, get me blue, and I’ll let you smash.”

“I thought you wanted a Meet Cute?” Jason says, glad his helmet means he doesn’t have to hide his amused grin.

“I do! I want that so much, Hood. Please can we have one?” Dick reaches out to grip Jason’s wrist, pleading clear on his face.

“Dick, for the last time we can’t have a Rom-Com Meet Cute.” Jason sighs, pulling over the wheeled stool to perch there next to Dick.

“Why not?” Dick pouts again, and Jason can just imagine the rapid blinking going on under his mask right now.

“Because...” Jason pulls of his helmet, dropping it on the gurney. “We’re married, dumbass.”

“We are?” Dick asks, his mouth dropping open in surprise. Jason pushes Dick’s hair back from his face, and drops a quick kiss on his forehead. “Wow, I have the best taste in husbands.”

“I’m considering divorce as an option right now.” Jason tells him, managing to keep a straight face through sheer force of will.

“If we get divorced you can’t smash this anymore.” Dick says, grinning wildly. He makes grabby hand motions at Jason, silently asking for cuddles, hand catching on his jacket.

“...Fuckdamnit.” Jason lets himself be pulled down to sprawl awkwardly over Dick, and half off the gurney. “Guess I’ll put up with you a while longer then.”

“Yay! So can we smash?” Dick giggles, his breath tickling Jason’s cheek. Jason shifts to lie on the gurney properly, and resigns himself to being cuddled by a drunken Dick, not that he actually minds.

“When you’re sober and we’re at home.” Jason promises, kissing Dick’s forehead again; and Dick sighs contentedly.