Chapter Text
Dick tried not to make too much of a habit of dropping in to check on people. To be frank, across his short life, he’d accrued far too many. So he texted, and he called, and when all else failed he occasionally just so happened to find himself at a conveniently placed locale they frequented.
And usually that was more than enough. Then there were the problem people. Jason, arguably his most difficult sibling, presnted particular problems, proving hard to reach even on his best days. If their last terse conversation was anything to go by, right now was not necessarily the best days.
In sunny times, Jason had few qualms about spending time with family members, dropping in sporadically for planned get togethers, and random days all the same. Sure, he preferred contact to be on his terms, but he also knew that that came with the silent agreement that whatever his version of initiation was; it had to happen.
It had been, by Dick’s estimation, more than a few months since the last time.
Which was why he was currently crouched on the fire escape of the third or fourth residence he found tied to (one of) Jason’s accounts—the one Bruce’s intel (that he pretended he didn’t keep) said he’d be at—just past 7:30 in the morning.
He’d paused, because there was a man in Jason’s kitchen.
If the dusty blonde curls and tanned arms were anything to go by, he certainly wasn’t the man Dick had trekked out to find. So what was he doing here, and why did he look so comfortable doing it?
It was at that moment, the man turned his head, and Dick recognized him. Connor Hawke, Green Arrow, or former Green Arrow, he wasn’t sure. Dick had met him a few times, but as far as the young superhero community went, he was a surprising anomaly. Connor had a way of keeping to himself. Dick knew him on reputation, but couldn’t cop to many personal point of connection.
Caught now, Dick gave him a little wave and the smile he’d been told was ‘startlingly friendly’ before climbing through the window. If Hawke was surprised to see him, he didn’t show it.
“Good Morning,” Connor said, turning back to the mixing bowl he’d been working over.
“Morning,” Dick chirped back. For him, it had been more of a long night than anything else. He’d finished off patrol, and then stopped at home to shower, two or three times, write up a nightly log—a habit he’d never lost despite being the only one to read them—change, then, around 6, he’d had the wayward thought that if he wanted to catch Jason free, now would probably be a better time than most.
Connor left whatever was in the bowl to rest, moving to the stove to heat up butter in a skillet. “Can I get you anything? Water or tea, or, um, well I’m still figuring out the coffee machine, but.”
“Aren’t you a guest here?”
Connor seemed to catch the question within the question easily, but still struggled to answer it. “Yes. No, I mean, of course. It’s Jason’s place, but he’s… sleeping.”
“No the fuck he isn’t.” Jason plodded into the room, sharp eyed and shirtless, hair a tousled mess. “I’ve never slept through a breaking and entering in my life.”
Connor turned fully, at Jason’s appearance. “Sorry,” he said, looking abashed. So Dick wasn’t the only one who wasn’t supposed to be here.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Jason crossed the kitchen, turning off the burner behind Connor. Dick couldn’t help but notice how close to each other they stood. “But if you burn my pans again, you’ll be scraping them out.”
To Dick, he said, “What are you doing here?”
“Making sure you’re still alive.”
“I’m alive.” Jason said. “And what do you know, I still have a phone too.”
“Great. Did you know they work even better when you answer them?”
Jason ignored him. Murmuring quietly to Connor, instead, so quiet, it was almost a subvocalization. As if that would stop Dick from listening.
Connor, on the other hand, didn’t keep his response subtle, “I hoped you’d sleep longer.” Dick didn’t think he was imagining the ire being thrown his way.
“I slept plenty.”
Connor pouted, and it seemed to hit Jason exactly as intended. “I wanted to surprise you with breakfast.”
“It worked, I’m surprised.” The quirk of his lip was small, but it was there, and was notably un-sarcastic.
“You could lay back down,” Connor and Jason were the same height, but Connor still managed to give the effect of peering up through his eyelids. Oh, he was good at this. “And then it would still be like you woke up to food.”
Jason glanced between Connor and Dick, expression screaming ‘fat fucking chance’. He reached minutely towards Connor, then stopped himself. His glare—fully directed at Dick—became more severe. In the quirk between his eyebrow he asked a question, then confirmed that they both knew the answer.
Connor sighed, accepting his defeat. “Why don’t you two go catch up in the other room, and I’ll finish up here.”
—
“So…” There were a million things Dick could make conversation about, but they all paled in comparison to, “Connor Hawke?”
“There’s that storied Gotham deduction.”
“And you two are… you’re…”
Jason gave him a look.
“Wow.”
“It’s new. We’re still figuring things out.”
“Am I the first to know?” Dick asked with an unmitigated sort of glee.
“It’s not a secret.” Jason said. “I think some of his friends know.” he added, in a quieter tone.
“Are you happy?”
If Jason thought his other questions were stupid, his face now seemed to say this one was downright offensive. “Are you happy?”
“Most days, yea,” Dick shrugged. “But if you ask me next week, I might feel differently. I just meant this, where your life is now, with him, are you content with it?”
“I, um,” Jason had subconsciously tilted his head towards the kitchen.. Connor wasn’t visible from where Dick sat, but he could hear his light whistling, a melody that was completely foreign to Dick. The sweet scent of pancakes began to permeate the room.
Dick laughed, “And here I thought your disappearance meant you were on the edge of a depressive spiral.”
“Fuck off. I’m not, he’s not—“ Whatever Jason was hoping to come up with got lost in his mouth as Connor stuck his head out of the kitchen.
“Do you want eggs?”
“No,” Jason said.
He nodded to Dick, “Richard?”
“We’re good,” Jason answered for him.
“Okay,” Connor retreated to the kitchen, before popping back up a moment later. “I was trying to figure out coffee, but—“
That had Jason standing, “Don’t you dare. I swear to God if I have to buy another coffee maker.”
“Well, I really don’t think it should be this hard.”
“It shouldn’t be. It’s just you.” his words dripped with affection.
Dick sat on the couch, listening to the volley back and forth pleasantly for a few more seconds, before getting up and climbing back out the fire escape. He’d be doing this again, he was sure, necessity bringing him back to check on Jason in another couple of months, probably. But for now, he’d leave him to Connor. Leave them to each other.