Work Text:
he’s high.
duke is only aware of this because he feels tingly and heavy in all the right ways and he can barely feel the weight of his guitar in his lap or the coolness of the strings as his fingers glide across them. one of his mom’s records is playing; a smooth funk song that he lazily plays the chords and sings along to with a faint smile on his face.
he feels right .
“this is good shit,” jason comments from his spot on the couch.
they’re situated in his apartment, a nice sized two bedroom right in the heart of gotham. these days they live in the studio and rarely see their own beds so this is a welcome change. bruce wormed an off day into their schedule somehow and they’re all grateful even if they don’t know how to express that to him.
recording their final album as a band had been easier said than done. duke wasn’t exactly sure when they all stopped getting along, but it was clear they were only doing this because they were contractually obligated to do a third album. their studio sessions started and ended with fights and no one at justice records was sure how a press run or a tour would go. duke had heard a few rumors that the label was willing to cut their losses if it meant keeping them out of the press in hopes that the album did well just off of their name alone.
“figured you needed it after last night.” duke shrugged.
“dick really laid into me,” jason smirked, “felt like gotham academy all over again.”
there’s a short silence that settles between them, the only sound coming from the record player. jason takes another drag from the blunt before passing it to duke.
“like it was my fault we went our separate ways,”
duke frowns.
“tim popped all that shit about college and the band not being permanent for him,” jason waves his hands, “then we find out through fucking tmz that he never even enrolled and joined that stupid ass young justice band that couldn’t even sell enough copies of their first album to stay signed.”
duke briefly remembered reading the pitchfork article panning the album. the planned tour was canceled not long after that and tim was forced to come back to wayne manor with his tail between his legs. he’d already been replaced by damian at that point and none of them had been too keen on letting him have his place back.
it was all downhill from there.
dick had already moved out of the manor at that point, jason had been collaborating with roy and artemis, duke was going through his custody issues with gnomon, doug, and bruce, damian was a fish out of water when it came to working with people, and cass was growing increasingly pissed with the disorganization of the band.
their breakup wasn’t a surprise, but the reunion was.
“you think this is the right call?” jason questions after a brief silence. he passes the blunt back over to duke, who stops strumming his guitar to take it. the song fades out and another one starts, a familiar rhythm and blues melody that makes duke smile.
“nah,” he takes a pull and holds the smoke in his mouth before blowing it out, “but the album’ll do fine.”
“but what about us?”
“you gettin’ sentimental on me, todd?”
“duke…”
a laugh escaped duke and he passed the blunt back to jason, “we’re waynes...one way or another. we’ll work it out once we all stop being emotionally constipated.”
