Chapter Text
Jason isn’t the kind of guy to easily get impressed. At least, that’s what he has always told himself. He doesn’t gawk, doesn’t leer, doesn’t even care that much. Life has taught him how much he needed wariness to keep safe.
One evening, he finds himself sprawled out on Dick’s couch, one earbud in, half-listening to his brother’s rantings. Jason’s eyes drift tiredly around the room. It’s spotless, of course. Dick has this unsettling habit of keeping everything so neat. The scent of freshly brewed coffee adds to the artificial sense of home that never quite feels right to Jason when it comes to Dick’s place.
Dick falls quiet, the sound of his fingers tapping rapidly on his phone. Jason feels the movement more than he hears it. Dick has that light-footed way of walking, like he’s always ready to backflip out the window.
“Ever met Roy ?” Dick asks, dropping onto the couch beside him.
Jason pulls out the earbud, wincing slightly as if to say, Who ?
“Arsenal. Titans. Green Arrow’s protégé.” Dick rattles off the names with a casual wave.
No, he’s never actually met Roy. Heard of him ? Sure. Probably spotted him across the room back when he was still Robin, but that was years ago. An actual introduction ? Not once.
“He’s coming over,” Dick continues, setting his phone aside. “Haven’t seen him in a while. He was in New Zealand.”
He leans further back into the couch, arms crossed. “Why should I care ?”
Dick shrugs nonchalantly. “You shouldn’t. But you’re already here, so...” He stands, stretching lazily before heading toward the kitchen. “He’ll be here any minute.”
Jason doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t get up to leave, either. He doesn’t care, not really, but there’s no reason to make an effort to avoid the guy.
Fifteen minutes later, there’s a sharp knock at the door.
Dick calls from the kitchen for him to get it, his voice muffled over the sound of a cupboard slamming shut.
So, Jason does. He makes his way to the door, his steps unhurried, shoulders loose.
He’s met with a man standing casually in the hallway, one hand gripping a duffel bag over his shoulder while the other fumbles with his phone. He looks up after a beat and their eyes meet.
He blinks at Jason, a split second of confusion before his face shifts into a lopsided grin.
“Uh, hey.” He slides his phone into his pocket. “Jason, right ?”
Jason doesn’t answer immediately. His eyes flick over Roy. Assessing. Broad shoulders, sharp jawline, long hair. The tattoos on his arms are more detailed up close, and there’s a faint dusting of freckles along his nose. He looks relaxed.
Jason doesn’t bother hiding his scrutiny. He nods once, brief and wordless, before stepping aside to let Roy in.
When he does come inside, he looks amused by the silent treatment. He steps past Jason, and glances around the apartment.
“Dick’s in the kitchen,” Jason finally mutters, closing the door behind him.
“Got it,” Roy says, flashing another grin before heading toward the sound of Dick banging around in the next room.
Quickly, Jason finds himself back on the couch, earbud in, phone in hand and already back in his own world. But when Roy’s laughter drifts out from the kitchen a few minutes later, low and unrestrained, Jason finds his eyes straying toward the doorway.
°°°
The next time Jason sees Roy, it’s also at Dick’s place.
Jason’s been crashing there for about a month now, ever since his building started renovations. He doesn’t exactly love being here, but it’s convenient. The place is empty more often than not, and Jason’s settled into the space like it’s his own.
That evening, he’s on the couch, feet up on the coffee table. He flips through his phone. He’s grown comfortable in the silence, too comfortable maybe, because the sudden creak of the front door sends a jolt through his system.
Jason straightens immediately, his senses awakening. The sound of fumbling at the lock catches his attention next. It’s too clumsy to be Dick – his brother moves with precision, always. This ? This is uncharacteristic.
This isn’t Dick.
Jason slides off the couch, every muscle tensing. His hand instinctively finds the gun he’s stashed under the couch – a habit Dick had rolled his eyes at but hadn’t argued against. Moving silently, he positions himself against the wall by the door, his breaths controlled.
The door tentatively creaks open. He tightens his grip on the gun, holding it close as he waits. The figure steps inside, shadowed in the sifted light of the apartment. Jason doesn’t give himself time to think. He moves swiftly, pressing the barrel of the gun to the intruder’s head in one smooth motion.
Before Jason could growl ‘Don’t move,’ the intruder freezes for half a second before reacting with lightning-fast reflexes. Jason’s wrist is caught in a powerful grip, the gun wrenched from his hand before he even registers what’s happening. The next thing he knows, he’s the one disarmed, staring down the barrel of his own weapon.
“What the—” Jason snarls, his free hand moving to retaliate when he finally gets a good look at the man holding the gun.
Roy.
“Jason ?” Roy blurts as recognition flashes across his face.
Jason freezes. He blinks, his adrenaline-soaked mind finally processing what just happened. He doesn’t let go of his frustration; ‘What the hell, Harper ?’ is already on the tip of his tongue, but there’s a particular awareness gnawing at him.
Roy had moved fast. Faster than Jason expected. Faster than most people could.
The sharp reflexes, the precision. It’s impressive, and it catches Jason off guard.
He clears his throat, shoving the thought aside as anger flickers back to life. “Harper,” he growls, his glare hardening, “what the hell are you doing here ?”
Roy glances at the gun in his hand, grimacing as he quickly lowers it and hands it back. Jason snatches it back. “Shit, sorry, man. Didn’t think anyone was here. Dick gave me a key forever ago. I thought I’d crash for the night.”
“You could’ve knocked.”
“Didn’t think I’d need to,” Roy says with a shrug. “Didn’t expect to get held at gunpoint by Dick’s moody little brother.”
Jason’s jaw tightens as the moment keeps replaying in his head. Roy’s quick reflexes, the way he’d disarmed him like it was nothing. As much as it annoys him, Jason can’t help but feel a grudging sense of respect, and that just pisses him off even more.
“I’m not moody,” he mutters defensively.
“Could’ve fooled me. I mean, seriously, pulling a gun on me ? Bit much, don’t you think ?”
He’s now glaring at Roy. “Who fumbles at the lock and creeps in like that ?!”
Roy snorts. “It’s not my fault this place has the most finicky lock in Blüd.”
Jason rolls his eyes, though the tension in his shoulders starts to ease. “Whatever.”
“Seriously, though,” Roy says. “Didn’t mean to spook you.”
Jason shrugs, trying to brush it off.
Eventually slinging his duffel bag off his shoulder and dropping it near the door, Roy studies Jason for a moment. “So,” he starts, “you crashing here too ?”
“Yeah. Renovations at my place.”
“Ah. Guess we’re roommates for the night.”
“Lucky me.”
He’s being sarcastic, and Roy smirks at that.
“Alright. Let’s see if Dick’s fridge has anything worth eating, or if we’re ordering pizza.”
Jason exhales sharply, trailing after him. “You’re paying if we’re ordering.”
“Figures.”
°°°
From then on, it’s… easy. He doesn't see Roy all that often but when he does, it’s pretty chill. The guy’s pretty chill.
Roy’s easy to be around, Jason realizes. He’s got this laid-back energy.
When Roy’s at Dick’s place, he makes himself comfortable, settling into the couch or leaning against the counter with the kind of effortless confidence that Jason finds himself noticing a little too often.
One evening, they’re both at Dick’s, sprawled on opposite ends of the couch while some action movie plays on the TV. Dick’s in the shower, and for a while, they don’t say much. Roy’s scrolling through his phone.
“You ever been to this place ?” He asks suddenly, holding his phone up to show Jason a picture of some bar with a rooftop view.
“Nope.”
“Could’ve guessed. You don’t exactly look like the ‘cocktail bar’ type.”
Jason raises an eyebrow. “And you do ?”
Roy grins. “Nah. But I’m adaptable. You should try it sometime.”
Jason snorts. Then, when Roy goes back to scrolling, he finds himself watching him for a moment longer than necessary, taking in the way Roy seems so... relaxed. It’s rare for Jason to meet someone who doesn’t make him feel like he has to be on guard all the time, and rarer still for him to actually enjoy their company.
By the time the movie ends, Jason realizes he hasn’t checked his phone in over an hour. Instead, he’s spent the evening – when not sharing random, stupid fun facts with Roy – stealing glances at him every now and then.
Somehow, it’s been nice.
That’s the thing about Roy. He doesn’t try too hard. He doesn’t ask for more than Jason’s willing to give, doesn’t push boundaries or pry into things that aren’t his business. He’s just there. Like a pretty chill guy.
°°°
When Jason sees him again, it’s two months later.
He’s just stepped out of an alley – wherein he may or may not have left an unconscious jerk behind –, when his gaze catches a familiar figure across the street. It’s Roy, casually dressed, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Jason feels an instinctive urge to call out to him but stops short. Roy’s not alone.
There’s a girl clinging to his arm. She’s clearly drunk. Her cheeks are flushed, her words slurring as she leans heavily against him.
Jason pauses, pulling back into the shadows of the alley. Best not to approach Roy while wearing the Hood either, especially when the guy’s in civvies. Instead, he melts into the darkness and makes his way to the rooftops, moving quickly to keep pace with them as they walk down the street.
From up there, he can hear snippets of their conversation.
“Come on,” the girl is saying, all playful. “My place isn’t far. We could, y’know, keep the night going.”
Roy chuckles, but there’s no real amusement in it. “I think you’ve already had more than enough fun tonight.” His tone’s gentle.
The girl pouts, tugging on his arm. “I’m fine. Promise.”
Jason can see Roy stop walking and loosen her grip on his arm. “Look, you’re drunk,” he says. “And I don’t mess around with people who aren’t in a state to make that call. Let me get you a cab, okay ?”
The girl sways slightly, her pout deepening. “You’re such a Boy Scout…” Still she doesn’t resist when Roy guides her toward the street and raises his hand to hail a taxi.
Jason watches from above. For some reason, his chest tightens in relief.
When the cab pulls up, Roy helps the girl into the back seat, exchanges a few words with the driver before he hands over some cash. He stands there for a moment after the car drives off.
Jason lingers a little longer on the rooftop, his eyes locked on Roy as he turns and starts walking again, hands back in his pockets. For a second, Jason debates calling out to him. But something keeps him rooted in place, watching instead as he disappears around the corner.
°°°
“Honey, I’m home.”
Jason rolls his eyes at the familiar greeting. Letting his head loll back off the couch, he watches Dick stroll in with a grocery bag in hand.
“You’re always on that damn couch,” Dick sighs, kicking the door shut behind him. “Don’t you think it’s time to, I don’t know, move around a little ? Maybe contribute to the house instead of blending into the furniture for three months straight ?”
Jason smirks, still upside down. “What, am I a burden already ?”
Dick drops the grocery bag onto the counter. “Burden ? No. Freeloader ? Absolutely.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault the renovations are taking forever,” Jason shoots back. “And for the record, I’ve been here two and a half months, not three. Get it right.”
“Oh right, my bad. How dare I ?”
Dick starts to unpack the groceries. Jason strolls over, casually reaching for the bag to inspect its contents. “What’d you get ? You better have grabbed my banana—”
“Protein bars ?” Dick cuts him off without looking up, his tone flat. “Yes, Jason, I got your goddamn banana protein bars. You’re welcome.”
He rummages through the bag. “Good.”
“Don’t just fumble through it !” Dick swats Jason’s hand away, rolling his eyes. “You’re already here, help me put this stuff away.”
Jason groans dramatically but grabs a box of cereal, shoving it onto a shelf. “See, this is why you’re lucky to have me around. Free labor.”
“Yeah, so fucking lucky,” Dick says, chuckling as he hands him a pack of coffee pods.
Once the groceries are put away, Dick leans against the counter. He folds his arms when he says, “we should get out tonight.”
Jason raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms in return. “What, suit up ? Thought you were taking it easy this week.”
For a moment, Dick just blinks at him before bursting into laughter. “Suit up ? No, Jay, not that kind of ‘out.’ I meant out-out. You know, like a bar, maybe a club. Normal people stuff.”
Jason snorts and pushes off the counter, making his way back to the couch. “I’ll pass.” He drops onto it with a groan, letting his head fall back.
“Oh, come on,” Dick says, following him into the living room. “It’ll be fun. You’ve been stuck in this apartment for weeks.”
“Nonsense,” Jason replies, waving him off. “I get out plenty. You’re just never here to see it because I’m back before you.”
“Right,” Dick says, skeptical. “And by ‘get out,’ I assume you mean beating up goons in alleys and brooding on rooftops ?”
Jason smirks. “I’m not answering that.”
“Come on, seriously, a night out wouldn’t kill you.”
Jason shrugs, reaching for the remote. “I don’t ‘do’ clubs. Too loud, too crowded, and way too many sweaty people.” He shivers theatrically. “Hard no.”
“Okay, no clubs,” Dick concedes, leaning back against the armrest. “But what about a chill bar ? Low-key, good drinks, no dance floor, no sweaty people.”
Jason narrows his eyes, studying him for a moment. “You’re paying ?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m paying. You’re such a cheap bastard.”
Jason smirks. “Alright, I’ll go.”
“Deal.” Dick grins triumphantly, already pushing off the armrest and heading for his room. “Be ready by eight. And for once, try not to dress like a beggar.”
“Fuck you,” Jason calls after him, flipping him off without bothering to turn around. But the ghost of a smile tugs at his lips as he sinks further into the couch.
°°°
The place is – surprisingly – exactly as Dick promised. Soft lighting, low-key music, and the small crowd keeps to themselves. Jason leans back in the leather booth, swirling the whiskey in his glass. It’s smooth.
“See ? Not so bad,” Dick says from across the table.
When Jason grumbles a ‘whatever,’ and Dick laughs.
They settle quietly, and for a while, Jason doesn’t mind it. They talk a little then lapse into silence again wherein Jason finds himself people-watching.
Dick’s phone chimes. Jason doesn’t bother looking over, but he can hear Dick’s fingers tapping away, followed by a quiet snicker.
Jason lets his attention wander back to his drink, the ice clicking as he rolls the glass between his palms. A few minutes later, Dick pockets the phone and looks up with a grin.
“Roy’s not far,” he says, leaning back against the booth. “He’s coming over.”
“Alright.”
Dick tilts his head slightly, narrowing his eyes in playful suspicion. “That’s it ? Alright ?”
“What do you want me to say ?” Jason deadpans.
Dick smirks knowingly, because of course he does. “Nothing. Just didn’t expect you to roll with it so easily.”
Jason takes a slow sip of his drink. “We’re at a bar. It’s a public place.”
“Not only. He hangs out here a lot, you know. Kind of his go-to spot.”
Jason looks at him, unimpressed. “You stalking him now ?”
“Don’t be jealous,” Dick shoots back without missing a beat.
Jason huffs out a laugh. He casts a glance toward the entrance almost without realizing it. It’s not that he’s waiting – he’s not – but when the door swings open a moment later, and that familiar red hair appears, Jason finds himself watching.
Roy steps inside like he owns the place. He greets random people for fuck’s sake. As he does so, the bartender’s already pouring his usual, then he slides the glass across the counter without a word. Roy’s gaze sweeps over the room before it lands on their booth. He flashes a grin, picks up his drink, and makes his way over.
Jason doesn’t smile back, but he doesn’t scowl either.
Roy slides into the booth next to him, dropping his drink on the table with a faint clink. “Hope I’m not crashing the party.”
“Nah,” Dick replies, waving him off. “You are the party, Royboy.”
Roy snorts, shaking his head as he settles in. “Damn right.”
For a while, they chill in the booth. The conversation drifts from small talk to random stories, a few laughs here and there. Jason listens more than he speaks.
That is until Dick, naturally, starts something.
“Okay,” Dick says, finishing off his drink and looking way too smug. “We have to address the fact that Jason hasn’t done anything with his life for the last three months.”
Jason’s head whips toward him. “Excuse me ?”
“You heard me,” Dick grins. “Sitting on the couch all day doesn’t count as contributing to society, Jaybird.”
“I’m not—” Jason cuts himself off with an incredulous scoff. “You’re one to talk, Golden Boy. At least I’m not live-streaming my workouts like an asshole.”
“That’s called inspiring people. Plus, I have a persona to maintain.”
“Nah, it’s called narcissism, dickwad.”
They’re full-on bickering now, voices raising a tad too much. Neither is willing to back down. Jason’s nerves get tested when Dick’s doing that thing where he’s trying to look like the mature one even though he’s the instigator.
Having sat quietly through most of it, Roy finally lifts a hand. “Alright, alright, timeout,” he says. Both Jason and Dick pause to look at him.
“Don’t humor him, Roy,” Dick says with a grin.
“I’m not,” Roy replies smoothly before turning to Jason. “I’m defending him. Poor guy’s had to put up with you for months. Can you blame him for needing a couch break ?”
Jason blinks, caught completely off guard. “What ?”
“Yeah,” Roy continues. “I mean, Dick’s... Dick. You deserve a little peace and quiet.”
He stares at Roy, unsure how to react. He’s not used to people siding with him so casually. And, somehow, it doesn't even sound sarcastic. “I... yeah,” he mutters.
Dick raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You’re enabling him.”
“Someone’s gotta,” Roy shrugs, grinning as he takes a sip of his drink. He gives Jason a light nudge with his elbow. “Plus, he’s outside now, isn’t he ?”
Dick rolls his eyes, muttering something about traitors, but Roy just chuckles, and somehow, the whole moment leaves Jason feeling... less on edge.
°°°
At some point, Dick heads off to the bathroom, leaving them both alone at the booth. Jason’s relaxed – the drinks have clearly done their job. Roy, by contrast, seems perfectly sober, his drink still half-full as he leans back, his eyes studying Jason.
“So,” Roy says, cutting through the silence. “You got a girl ?”
Jason shifts just enough to glance at him, squinting like he’s not sure he heard him right. “Why the hell are you asking me that ?” he slurs.
“You may be one of my friends’ type.”
The slow blinking shows how tipsy Jason actually is. “Not interested.”
“You don’t even know anything about her.”
Jason huffs a dry laugh. “She’s a she,” he says. “That’s all I need to know.”
That gives Roy a pause. He scrutinizes Jason for a beat, his grin shifted into a little more thoughtful expression. “Huh,” he murmurs, more to himself than to Jason. He drums his fingers against the glass in front of him. “Didn’t know you swung that way.”
“Yeah ? Well, I’m full of surprises.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says lightly. It’s like he’s filing the information away somewhere in his head.
Jason watches him for a moment, confused by the shift in tone. “What’s with the look ?”
“What look ?” Roy asks innocently, turning back to him. But the corners of his mouth twitch, and Jason can tell he’s suppressing a grin.
“That look,” Jason says, gesturing vaguely at him. “You’ve got something to say; so just say it.”
Roy shrugs, casually spinning his empty glass in his hands. “You’re cute when you’re drunk.”
Jason freezes for a second, his face heating before he can stop it. “The hell does that mean ?”
“Relax, baby boy,” Roy says, grinning now as he leans back in his seat. “Not like that. I mean, it’s funny. You’re less… broody. You’re cute.”
“Shut up.” Jason stares at him, the alcohol making him torn between irritation and genuine confusion. “You’re such a weirdo, Harper.”
Roy snorts, clearly unbothered. “Okay, sorry.”
Jason huffs and looks down at his drink, swirling the amber liquid around in the glass. He tries to ignore the heat creeping up his neck and the fact that Roy’s teasing – while annoying as hell – feels oddly nice.
°°°
It’s only a couple days later that he sees Roy again. Dick and him are planning to train before grabbing dinner together.
From his spot on the couch, Jason has a clear line of sight to the workout area. He’s watching a movie, half-paying attention to them. Until they actually start sparring. Dick is swift, restless and precise. He darts in and out like he’s trying to overwhelm Roy with pure motion. Jason almost smiles; classic Dick.
But Roy seems to know his moves. He appears confident enough, smirking as he counters move after move like he’s done it a hundred times before. And he probably has. Jason watches as Roy ducks under a kick, twisting smoothly to avoid a follow-up strike. His movements are fluid, like he’s dancing around Dick’s attacks instead of meeting them head-on.
Roy shifts gears, going on the offensive. He fakes left, making Dick pivot, then steps in fast. Jason sits up, his attention fully on them now. Roy moves smoothly, catching Dick mid-motion and locking him in a hold. Jason can see how strong Roy’s grip is; it’s like a vise. Dick struggles, twisting and using his flexibility to try and escape, but it’s no use. Roy’s got him locked down tight.
“Come on, Grayson,” Roy teases. “I thought you were supposed to be the agile one.”
“Not bad, Harper,” Dick grunts. “But you’re still predictable.”
Roy’s grip tightens in response, but Dick shifts his weight just so. Small but crucial. It’s enough to throw Roy that tiny bit off balance. That brief moment of instability is all Dick needs to twist out of the hold. With a fluid movement, he slips free and regains his stance, now standing a few feet away from his opponent.
Roy blinks, although he’s not really surprised. He’s already circling back, ready for the next round. “Nice one,” he admits with a nod. “But that’s not going to save you next time.”
From the couch, Jason huffs a quiet laugh.
Both men glance over at him. “Oh, you’re watching now ?” Roy says. “So this is your kind of entertainment, huh ?”
He rolls his eyes, sinking back into the couch. “Whatever. You two are loud as hell. Hard to ignore.”
“Uh-huh.” Roy grabs a water bottle from the bench. He tilts his head toward Jason. “If you’re so interested, why don’t you come join us ?”
Jason simply shakes his head.
Dick wipes the sweat off his face with a towel, shooting him an exasperated look. “You’re just going soft.”
He sits up, narrowing his eyes at Dick’s comment. “Soft ? I’ll show you soft, fucker.” He tosses the remote onto the couch, stands up and takes off his shirt.
Clearly satisfied with himself, Dick is grinning when he snickers, “finally. Thought I’d have to manually extract you from that couch at some point.’”
“Keep talking. See what happens.” Jason cracks his knuckles as he steps onto the mat.
Roy perks up. “Oh, me first !” He tosses his water bottle aside and stretches his arms, flexing just enough to be annoying. “You ready, baby boy ?”
Jason shoots him a glare. “Don’t call me that.”
“Aw, why not ?” Roy smirks, taking a loose stance. “Suits you.”
“I’m gonna wipe that grin off your face.”
“I’d love to see you try.”
Jason doesn’t bother with a reply; he lunges instead. Roy sidesteps with infuriating ease, but Jason is quicker than he looks. He twists mid-motion, leaving Roy no choice but to block. Their forearms collide loudly.
“Not bad,” Roy says, his grin widening as he steps back. “Didn’t think you had moves like that.”
Jason smirks. “I’ve got plenty of moves, Harper. You just don’t deserve to see all of them.”
Roy barks a laugh. “You’re all talk, kid.”
“Kid ? Really ?” Jason’s voice is dry, but his eyes are sharper now. He fakes a jab before going low, aiming to sweep Roy’s legs.
Still grinning, Roy barely hops back in time. “Close, but nope.”
From the sidelines, Dick leans against the wall, arms crossed. “You two done flirting, or is this gonna turn into an actual spar ?”
“Shut it, Grayson !” Jason snaps which gets him distracted for a split second.
That’s all Roy needs. He grabs Jason’s wrist and twists him into a hold, locking him. Jason tenses, trying to muscle his way out, but the grip is like iron.
“Gotcha,” Roy murmurs, his voice low and edged with effort. He leans in just enough for his hushed words to reach Jason’s ear. “What was that about wiping the grin off my face ?”
A shiver running down his spine makes Jason freeze for half a second. His face flushes, though whether it’s from exertion or something else, he’s not sure. “Get off me, Harper,” he growls, twisting hard, but Roy holds firm.
“Aw, come on, baby boy,” Roy teases. “You’re supposed to be better than this.”
Jason growls again, bristling at the nickname, his pride stinging more than the hold itself. He shifts his weight suddenly, trying to use leverage to slip free, but Roy adjusts just as quickly, keeping him pinned.
“You gonna let him manhandle you like that, Jay ?” Dick adds fuel.
“Shut the fuck up,” Jason barks again, his frustration intensifying as he tugs harder against Roy’s hold. When he finally releases him, he gives Jason’s shoulder a quick pat. “Not bad, but your angles are all wrong. You’re telegraphing your moves.”
“Fuck off,” Jason growls, unconsciously rubbing his wrist.
For a moment, Roy’s grin falters, and he actually looks taken aback. “Hey, you good ?” he asks, quieter.
Jason glares, the heat rushing back to his face. “What do you take me for, some rookie ? I’m fine.”
His tone is defensive, but he knows the embarrassment is clear. And if he knows it, Dick definitely knows it. So, he braces for another quip from him, but instead, there’s an unexpected silence. Then Dick clears his throat. “Alright, alright. Let’s call it. I’m starving.”
“Yeah,” Roy says.
“I’m calling dibs on the shower,” Dick announces, already heading toward the hallway.
Roy raises an eyebrow. “You know we could save time if we—”
“Nope,” Dick shoots over his shoulder.
“Come on ! Back in the days, we used to—”
“I said no.”
Dick’s now disappeared around the corner.
Sitting on the mat, Jason fights the ridiculous urge to ask, ‘You used to what ?’ He mutters under his breath, shaking his head. Don’t care. Don’t wanna know. Bending forward, he focuses on stretching out his hamstrings.
But of course, Roy doesn’t let it slide. He flops down in front of Jason. Sprawled out like he owns the place, he grins. “We used to have a common shower back in the Titans days,” he announces like anyone asked. “But I guess those days are gone. Grayson’s gotten all uptight now. It’s like he forgot I’ve seen his micropenis before.”
Jason freezes mid-stretch, his brain momentarily short-circuiting at the sheer audacity. He tries to suppress the laugh bubbling in his chest, but it bursts out anyway; a sharp, startled bark of laughter. “What the hell, dude ?”
“Just facts, Jay,” Roy says, his grin widening as he leans back on his hands.
Jason shakes his head, still laughing despite himself. “You’re an absolute idiot.”
“Maybe,” Roy says with a shrug. He glances toward where Dick disappeared and adds, louder, “I mean, it’s not my fault Dick’s ashamed of his itty bitty–”
“Roy, shut up !” Dick’s voice echoes from the bedroom. Although it’s muffled, they can hear the smile.
Jason tries to hide his own grin behind his hand.
Roy leans closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “You see ? That reaction just confirms it. Tiny.”
Jason doesn't even try to supress the snort that escapes him this time.
“Huh, got you to stop sulking. I like you better like this.”
At that, Jason’s head snaps up to find Roy smiling, but it’s not the usual smug smirk, it’s something… softer. It throws him off completely. He can feel the heat crawling up his neck, and he ducks his head, to refocus on his stretching.
The buzz of a phone vibrates on the bench. Roy reaches for it. “Yo,” he answers.
Jason keeps his head down, but Roy’s change in tone makes him pause.
“Hey, angel,” his voice turns particularly affectionate. “What’s going on ?”
Jason’s ears perk up at the petname. He keeps his expression neutral.
“Wait, what ? Slow down,” Roy says, his voice suddenly sharper. His casual demeanor vanishes. “You’re okay though, right ? Are you safe ?”
Jason glances up, brow furrowing as he watches Roy stand and pace around.
“Alright, I’m coming,” Roy says firmly, grabbing his jacket. “Stay put, angel. I’ll be there in twenty.”
Jason stays quiet, watching as Roy throws his phone into his pocket and heads for the door.
“Emergency ?” Jason asks.
“Yeah,” Roy says shortly, already halfway out. “Gotta handle something. See ya.”
Jason watches him go, unease creeping into his chest. Angel ? he thinks. Seriously ?
A few minutes later, Dick emerges from the showers, towel around his neck. “Where’d Roy go ?”
Jason shrugs, keeping his voice as nonchalant as possible. “Ran off to his girlfriend or something.”
“Huh ?”
Jason gestures vaguely. “I don’t know. He got a call, got all soft, called her ‘angel,’ then bolted out like the place was on fire.”
For a moment, Dick just stares at him. Then he’s chuckling.
“What ?” Jason snaps.
“Angel ?” Dick chokes out. “That’s Lian, you idiot.”
Jason freezes, blinking. “Lian ?”
“Yeah,” Dick replies “His daughter ? You know, the one who actually calls him when she needs him ?”
He doesn't know why he feels embarrassed, but he is. He mutters under his breath as he turns away. “How was I supposed to know ?”
Dick claps him on the shoulder. “You could’ve just asked. But no, you had to make it weird.”
“Shut up,” Jason grumbles, his eyes sending daggers his way.
“Man, you’re hopeless,” Dick smirks. “Anyway, it’s just us for dinner then. Again.”
Later, when Dick finishes his call with Roy, Jason learns that Lian had gotten lost while out with friends and called her dad for help. Though she quickly found a safe spot to wait, Roy had dropped everything to go to her.
°°°
One night, Jason gets shot. It’s not the worst he’s been through, but bad enough that every step home feels heavier. When he finally stumbles through the door, one hand pressed firmly to a makeshift bandage over his ribs, his jacket sticking to the wound, the sight that greets him is so normal it’s almost irritating: Dick, Roy, and Donna lounging on the couch, laughing, glasses in hand.
The slam of the door silences them.
“Uh, Jay ?” Roy is the first to speak as soon as his eyes land on Jason. “What happened ?”
Jason waves him off, though his arm feels like it weighs a ton. “Nothing. Just a scratch.”
Dick raises an eyebrow but doesn’t move from his spot on the couch. Donna, however, leans forward, her expression more concerned.
“That’s not a scratch,” Roy says, getting up. He’s not rushing, exactly, but his steps are somehow more hurried than usual as he approaches Jason. “Sit down before you fall down, man.”
“I’m fine.” Though his knees threaten to betray him.
“Sure you are,” Roy replies casually, his hand brushing Jason’s elbow as he guides him toward the couch. It’s such a light touch that Jason doesn’t think much of it, until he realizes Roy’s making sure he doesn’t collapse on the way there.
Donna heads off to grab towels, leaving Dick to sigh and set his glass down. “Bullet went through ?” he asks, resigned.
“Yeah,” Jason replies shortly, still pressing his makeshift bandage to the wound.
Dick leans back with a slight shake of his head. “Of course it did.”
Before Jason can protest further, Roy’s already kneeling in front of him, his expression unreadable. He starts peeling back the edge of Jason’s blood-soaked jacket with careful fingers.
“Dude, you don’t have to. I’m—”
“Shut up,” Roy interrupts. “Not letting you bleed all over the place. You’re killing the vibe.”
Jason snorts, though it’s strained, his jaw tightening against the pain. “What vibe ?”
Roy smirks faintly, but his hands remain steady. Donna returns, and tosses him the first-aid kit. She hands Dick the towels, subtly nudging him to do something useful.
“Hold still,” Roy says, gently unbandaging the wound. Jason grabs the towel Dick offers, noticing how his brother’s eyes linger on his face, scanning him for anything worse than the obvious injury.
“Once every two weeks, you just got to repaint my living room, huh ?” Dick mutters, clearly unimpressed.
Jason glares. “Shut up.”
“Touchy,” Dick quips.
When Roy presses a fresh piece of gauze against the wound to stop the bleeding, Jason hisses through his teeth, his body jerking slightly. Roy immediately pauses, his hands softening their pressure. “Relax,” he says. “I’m being careful.”
Jason doesn’t respond, but his shoulders ease a fraction. Roy works in silence after that, his movements precise. The occasional wince from Jason is met with even lighter touches.
When Jason shifts slightly, he feels the faint pressure of Roy’s hand against his arm again, steadying him without a word.
Jason doesn’t comment on it, chalking it up to Roy being thorough. He’s too tired to argue anyway.
“You’re lucky it wasn’t worse,” Roy mutters, low enough that it’s almost drowned out by the clink of Donna setting down a glass nearby.
Jason’s eyes flick to her as she leans closer to Dick. She doesn’t say anything, but there’s a knowing glance exchanged between them. Jason doesn’t like it, but, again, he’s too drained to bother picking at it.
“You’re staying put tonight,” Roy says suddenly, breaking Jason’s train of thought.
“What ?” Jason frowns.
Roy doesn’t even flinch. “You look like shit, and I don’t trust you not to make it worse.”
Jason opens his mouth to argue, but Roy’s sharp look stops him cold. It’s not bossy or patronizing, just… final. A challenge Jason knows he won’t win, and maybe doesn’t even want to win. With a quiet grumble, he slumps back into the couch, pressing his lips together in annoyance.
Roy grabs his drink off the table, and takes a long sip. As he sets it down again, he nudges Jason’s leg. “See ? Not so hard, huh ?”
Jason glares but doesn’t bother responding. Roy doesn’t push further, just sits back on the armrest near Jason, close enough to keep an eye on him without making it obvious. It’s only later, as the tension starts to ease, that Jason realizes just how carefully Roy had been watching him the whole time.
And somehow, he can feel Donna watching him too. Her lips twitch as she’s clearly suppressing a smile. When Jason glances back at her, she quickly looks away, but not without giving Dick another subtle look. Jason shifts uncomfortably under her scrutiny.
It doesn’t take long for exhaustion to catch up with him. His head begins to lull forward, then jerks back when he tries to keep himself upright. Roy notices almost immediately. A soft sigh escapes him, and without a word, he sets down his glass and moves to nudge Jason gently by the shoulder.
“Hey,” Roy says quietly. “Lie down before you hurt your neck.”
Jason mumbles something incoherent, blinking blearily at him, but he’s too far gone to protest. Roy glances at Donna and Dick, jerking his thumb toward the couch. “Move.”
Donna raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me ?”
“You heard me,” Roy says. “Unless you want to watch him face-plant onto the coffee table.”
Dick huffs a laugh but obliges, grabbing his glass and standing. Donna follows, rolling her eyes. As soon as the space is cleared, Roy shifts Jason, maneuvering him until he’s stretched out across the couch. Jason murmurs something under his breath again, but it’s barely audible.
Roy grabs a blanket from the back of the couch and drapes it over him. For a moment, he lingers, watching Jason’s face, now peaceful in sleep, before stepping back.
“Alright,” Roy says, his voice lower now. “Let’s take this to the kitchen.”
The three of them settle around the kitchen island. The mood becomes lighter, Dick begins sharing his analysis of the newest season of Bridgerton. Donna listens with a bemused smile, while Roy nurses his drink, his attention intermittently shifting toward the living room where Jason sleeps.
Donna notices, of course, and for a while, she keeps quiet, letting the conversation flow, but when Roy’s eyes flick toward the couch yet again, she decides she’s had enough.
“Hey, what’s up with you ?” she says abruptly, cutting off Dick mid-sentence.
“What do you mean ?” Roy asks.
“You’ve been checking on him every two minutes like a mother hen. You gonna tell us what’s going on, or are we supposed to guess ?”
Dick perks up. “Ooh, this I gotta hear.”
Roy sighs, placing his drink down and meeting Donna’s gaze with a flat look. “There’s nothing going on. He got shot, I patched him up. End of story.”
Donna crosses her arms, unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure. Because the way you’re acting says otherwise. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Roy cuts in sharply, shaking his head. “It’s not like that.”
Dick’s grin widens, but he holds back, letting Donna press further. “Then what is it ?”
Roy exhales heavily. “Look, it’s not complicated. I just…” He gestures toward the living room. “I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to think you’re… safer on your own. Jason’s tough, yeah, but he’s not— Ah. If he’s anything like I used to be, he sure as hell doesn’t look after himself. And someone has to once in a while.”
Donna raises an eyebrow. “And that someone is you ?”
“I don’t know, maybe. He’s like… a little brother or something.”
Dick snorts, hiding his amusement behind his glass. “Roy Harper, gunning for my role. You Judas, you. Who would’ve thought ?”
“Shut up.”
Donna chuckles, then she counters. “He’s hogging Dick’s couch right now. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘lone wolf,’ does it ?”
Roy rolls his eyes. “It’s not about where he’s sleeping, Donna. I just… I just see it in his eyes, okay ?”
Her smirk fades, replaced by something gentler. “You think he’s like you were ? Back then ?”
“No,” he replies immediately. “But… he’s not that far off either.”
From the living room, Jason stirs. The blanket slips, and his eyes crack open. His groggy mind had latched onto Roy’s words.
He’s like… a little brother.
Jason rolls over, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. The phrase lodges in his chest like a pebble in his shoe; small, but awfully irritating. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much, but it does.
°°°
Over the next week, while tending to his wound, his thoughts drift toward Roy more often than he’d like. Jason tells himself he’s over the whole “little brother” thing. He doesn’t care. Why should he ?
But no matter how hard he tries, Roy keeps creeping into his thoughts in quick flashes.
Like the way Roy’s hair looks when it’s loose. Jason remembers him shoving it back, his fingers threading through it to leave it perfectly messy. It hadn’t been anything special, just a casual gesture, but Jason had caught himself staring longer than was reasonable.
Or the way Roy laughs, loud and totally unfiltered. Jason thinks back to one night on the couch when Roy had leaned back in his chair, head tilted back as he laughed at something dumb Dick had said. That bright, easy grin had no business sticking with Jason, but it did, and it irritated the hell out of him.
And the worst part ? Jason hated himself for not being able to stop those images.
As the days passed, Jason tried to shake off those moments, to ignore how much of Roy he’d been noticing or reminding himself of lately. But it was the small stuff that stuck; like how Roy’s forearms flex when he rolls up his sleeves, or how he leans against the counter with that casual, effortless confidence, like he owns the place.
Then there were the things Roy had said, it’s offhand, like they meant nothing. The teasing “baby boy” he’d toss around without a second thought, like it wasn’t enough to make Jason’s stomach flip. Or the way Roy had been so calm and steady while patching him up, his hand firm on Jason’s shoulder, making Jason feel weirdly… safe.
He’s never cared about that kind of crap before, but there he is…
At night, when the apartment is quiet and dark, those moments come back to haunt Jason. Granted, they’re stupid little things, but they add up, and he can’t seem to shove them aside.
By the end of the week, Jason has to admit it—something’s shifted. He doesn’t want to call it attraction, doesn’t even want to entertain the thought, but the feeling is there. It’s driving him absolutely crazy.
And then…
And then, like clockwork, the “little brother” comment would resurface. Abrupt. Aggressive. Like a punch to the gut. And every time, it would make his stomach drop. He’d clench his fists with the fucking urge to punch a wall.