Work Text:
-1-
Strangely enough, Dick and he were doing great lately. Not that they weren't able to behave like normal human beings when put in the same room. The most they would do was friendly banter and, at worst, kicking each other's ass until one of them had to go to Leslie, which already happened once or twice. But nothing worse than that, Jason had even started hanging around Dick more, as the older sibling was indeed someone pleasing to be around, even though he, too, had his moments.
There was only one tiny problem: his feelings. Lord, he loathed to talk about it, but his feelings were actually getting in the way of reestablishing a decent, platonic, brotherly relationship with Dick.
He knew the risks of getting close to Dick Grayson; he knew them very well, but, alas, he ignored every single warning in favour of the older man not bothering him every hour of the day for the whole year. Now he bothered him only on the weekends, which, in retrospect, was both good and bad. Good, because he could finally do his work without having Nightwing on his ass every day of the week, and thus, he didn't have to deal with his henchmen's mutterings about him having it bad for Bludhaven's ass; and bad because… Because…
Jason sighed as he jumped into Dick's apartment through one of the windows, disabling the security first and then carefully reactivating it again when he was inside.
He wanted to see him more.
He shouldn't even consider the idea of Dick paying a bit more attention to him exciting, but fuck, whatever. Jason was a weak man when it came to those sapphire eyes… And also that ass was, indeed, to die for. Again.
You can imagine his surprise, however, when he looked around the bedroom, a space he had slowly learned to memorise after being dragged there so many times by his older brother, and found a plushie.
But not just any plushie.
A round, bug-eyed, Red Hood plushie.
He was so stupid-looking, too, Jason noted. Which did nothing to make him less confused.
He stepped up to it until he could grab it and… Yeah. It was a parody of what he was supposed to look like, and to be completely honest, Jason didn't know if he wanted to feel insulted at the thought of Dick buying this thing and then letting it stay on his bed, or if he wanted to be somewhat endeared by the idea of Dick buying a dumb-looking version of him, just to keep it on the bed where he slept.
Did Dick miss him that much, though? They always saw each other at the end of the week, and it happened more than once that they would meet each other by accident on the roofs while patrolling.
He took the plush, his frown hidden by his helmet. He felt something pool in his stomach, something bittersweet.
If the idiot wanted to hang out more, he should've told Jason.
He put the plushie back into its own place.
Maybe one day he'll be there instead of the dumb-looking version of himself.
He could definitely dream.
-2-
Did Jason ever mention how much Dick talked? No? Well, now you know. He was currently suffering through one of his older brother's spiels, and god forbid, what did he ever do to deserve this?
Don't get him wrong, he liked listening to Dick talking about what happened to him during the week; he actually loved it, but we don't have to look too much into that. The problem was that he was talking about the damn plushie. Yes, remember that stupid-looking version of himself? The round plush? With little limbs and dumb doe eyes? Which, by the way, was so fucking stupid because you couldn't see his eyes through the whites of the helmet. Why did the thing have eyes on the whites? To make him look stupider?
He might never know. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to talk about it at all, but of course Dick would.
"-and I saw him, and I was like 'omg! He's so cute, I need him now.'" Jason nodded, with a pained look on his face that he didn't even bother to hide.
"And so you bought it." Dick smiled and nodded excitedly.
Well, he couldn't stay mad at that happy face now, could he? Curse Dick's beautiful smile.
"Wait! Let me show you, I have him in my bedroom." And as soon as he said those words, he was springing to his feet and jogging down the apartment to get the abomination of a plush. Because that's what it was, you wouldn't be able to convince Jason of the opposite. And it was even worse if he thought about the fact that Dick was using the "he" pronouns on that thing. Jesus Christ.
"Look at him!" Dick squealed, delighted, while appearing with the god forsaken thing in his arms.
"I can see it."
"What do you think? He's cute, isn't he?"
"It's fat." Dick gasped in mock offence.
"What?! Apologise! He's just a bit round!" Jason felt himself contain an eyeroll.
"Alright, can I say I don't like it already, or are you going to torture me in my sleep if I say that?"
Dick's tight smile answered for him. Jason sighed.
"It's… Okay, I guess."
"More than! He's beautiful!" Jason felt stupid for wanting to put a bullet through the plushie's head when Dick hugged it tight to his chest like it just saved his life, but alas. He just shook his head.
Whatever helped Dick sleep at night, Jason guessed.
-3-
It had to be some kind of curse.
It had to be, right? Because tell Jason why, while he was walking to his own room in the manor to get some rest — long mission with the bats, god, he didn't want to be here, but he was needed — and he made the mistake of peering in Dick's room, only to find the thing right there, looking back at him. With its stupid — that don't make sense, might he add — eyes.
On Dick's bed.
He felt himself close his eyelids and take a deep, irritated breath.
He really wanted to shoot the plushie.
"Jay? All good?" That was Dick's voice, shit.
"Yeah, sorry, just tired." He quickly amended, trying to look anywhere but the plush or the owner of said plush. Dick cocked his head to the side while looking up at him. He was so gorgeous, it almost felt unfair. The older man hummed before looking inside his room and then back at Jason. He smiled mischievously.
"What? Do I have something on my face?" Jason did not like that smile one bit.
"Nothing, you're cute when you're grumpy." Dick shook his head and then reached out with his hand, just to have Jason lean down and leave a kiss on his cheek.
Jason felt himself blush. He hoped Dick couldn't see well in the darkness of the manor's corridors.
"Goodnight, Little Wing. Make sure to sleep well, we'll have a long day ahead of us tomorrow." Jason reached with his hand his own cheek, where Dick had kissed him, and just rested his hand there while nodding, speechless.
Dick walked to his room, reached the threshold and then turned back to wave at him before closing the door, leaving Jason with his own raging thoughts on what just happened.
He sighed, turning around and beelining for his own bedroom, his hatred for the plush forgotten. He really needed to sleep.
-4-
When he got up, he didn't want to open his eyes. No, it was far too early for Jason to be waking up right now, and he didn't sleep enough with what had happened the night before, but Damian had demanded that he get up, and he didn't have enough strength in himself to say no. He usually would, but he knew today there was work to be done. One week of hell and then he could go back to one of his safehouses and snooze however much he wanted. This mission was important; lives were at stake.
Also, a little detail he missed to mention, anyone else who wasn't Damian who even attempted to wake him up, was going to get a punch square in the face. Jason and the boy had slept on the same cot enough when they were both still part of the League of Assassins; they had a specific routine to wake each other up, one that would avoid having Damian being punched in the face, that is.
He sighed, patted the boy's head while grunting, making the latter whine in displeasure and weakly push his hand away. Jason snorted.
"Go wake Grayson up." Damian whispered, while grimacing, "I need to talk to Drake."
Jason's eyes widened. Well, widened as much as he could, since he was still half-asleep.
"No way," his rough morning voice rang between the walls of his room, gently, "you will wake him up? You mean you'll attempt to kill him? Are you sure you don't want me to do it?" Damian rolled his eyes at the notice.
"As if you wouldn't attempt to kill him as well, Todd."
"No, I wouldn't." The boy gave him a deadpan look. "I would just draw a moustache on him with a Sharpie." Jason tilted his head once, reconsidering, "And maybe I would add some dicks on his forehead."
"Childish." Damian only murmured back, putting a hand in front of his mouth to hide the yawn that was catching up to him. "Go see Grayson." He repeated, still sleepy, as he left the room silently.
Jason sighed, having nothing better to do, he guessed that annoying Dick into waking up would've been one of the highlights of this week, before he started to run away from him again. Christmas was near, and he really wasn't looking forward to Christmas dinner at the manor. If Dick caught him, he would've probably dragged him to Alfred and tied him up in the living room, much to Jason's chagrin.
The worries about Christmas dinner vanished when he opened the door of his older brother's room and found the latter still asleep, all cuddled up to the… Oh, you have to be kidding.
"Wake up, Dickhead." Jason's patience was thinning. Very, very quickly. Dick whined as he buried his face further into the plushie.
"Five more minutes, Jay…" He whispered. If Jason hadn't seen the stupid thing, he would've let the older catch up on some sleep, but now? Now he was pissed, his system was still caffeine-free, and it was morning, which immediately flared up his anger. He took the plushie from Dick's grasp and held it up by one of its legs.
"Up." He demanded, giving the dumb-looking thing in his hands a look of disdain.
Why did this thing get to have all the cuddles, and Jason didn't? The man stopped his questioning there. Nope. No, he wasn't going to ask himself that question; he wasn't — couldn't — have been jealous of a piss poor representation of Red Hood made plushie. Nope.
"Noooo, give me back my baby, I still wanna cuddle… It's so early…" That did nothing to calm Jason down; if anything, it made him angrier.
Didn't Dick even think about Jason standing there? He could've been the one giving him cuddles. He was the real thing. Why the fuck did Dick want the plushie?
"You'll survive, come on." He could hear his own harsh tone, and Dick probably did as well, since he cracked an eye open and looked at Jason like he had just insulted all of his friends, family and dead pets. Too bad Jason was too occupied being angry with the plushie.
He turned around and walked up to the door, horrible-looking thing still in hand as he said: "When you wake up properly, I'll think about giving it back." And then he closed the door behind himself before giving the plushie a proper scowl.
"You won't win, I assure you of that." He must've been exasperated to talk to a thing that wasn't even alive, but he hated it, so there's that.
He locked his room up with the plushie inside before going downstairs for breakfast.
-5-
Remember when he said he was going to escape before Dick managed to drag him to Christmas dinner? He failed. Miserably.
And the way he was distracted was embarrassing too, because what do you mean all it took was Dick talking to him in a sweet tone and batting his eyelashes, and he had agreed. He was sure he was stronger than that.
But that didn't matter now, did it? Because they were all cuddled up on the sofa, and Jason would've loved it, if there wasn't — you guessed it — the fucking plushie between him and Dick. At this point, he didn't know if the oldest was doing it on purpose to get a raise out of him, or if he was simply stupid enough not to notice how bad Jason wanted that thing gone.
"Dick," The man answered by humming while dragging his eyes to Jason. He rested his head on the plushie for good measure. As if that thing being in the middle wasn't already enough to make Jason go batshit insane with jealousy. "Take that piss poor representation of me off the sofa, Timmers and Dami are basically falling off."
He knew Tim was about to open his stupid mouth to talk, so he quickly put his hand on his lips, dragging a sleepy, muffled protest from the younger sibling. He quickly eyed Tim, who looked back at him with a raised eyebrow and a not-so-happy expression.
Don't ruin it, Jason mouthed before looking back at Dick, who now had a pout on his lips and his eyebrows were knitted together in the middle.
"You're always so mean to him," Dick murmured, taking the plushie closer and nuzzling it with his face, "I don't see any problems; Tim and Dami seem fine."
As if on cue, Damian sighed and gently threw his head back against Tim's chest once, twice, thrice out of pure desperation. Tim snorted. As this happened, Jason felt like he was about to get the plushie and shred it into pieces.
No, you know what? Enough. He had had enough.
He got up, leaving Tim — who had been leaning onto his shoulder this whole time — to almost fall flat onto his back on the sofa, together with Damian, and then he walked away. He did the stupidest thing and closed himself in his own room, just like he did when he was still thirteen.
Fuck, he knew he shouldn't have folded to Dick's request, and now he was angry because of a plushie. Holy fuck, he felt stupid. He just needed a moment.
He sat down on his bed and looked out the window: the snow was falling thick on the ground, covering the usual green of the grass with a candid white. He felt a shiver running down his spine, regretting not bringing a blanket with him.
Whatever, Dick could've kept the stupid plushie for all that he cared, he mused, as he quickly got up and got ready to go back to his own safehouse. Not like he had much more to do around here anyway, and it was getting late.
-+1-
He was about to approach the front door after having bid his goodbyes to Alfred, when a hand wrapped around his wrist and made him stop in his tracks.
I swear, I see that dumb thing again and I'll—
He couldn't finish the thought, however, because when he looked back, Dick was looking right back at him with a scowl on his pretty face.
"What?" He asked, not really meeting Dick's eyes.
"Are you done being childish?" Alright, now he was looking at Dick in the eyes, and he was doing so with a murderous gaze.
"I have to go." He muttered, trying to tug himself free, but to no avail. The older man's grip was made of steel.
"Does the plushie upset you that much?" There, Jason saw red.
"Can you stop talking about that damn plushie for one god forsaken second?! It's like you love it more than you love me!" A deafening silence followed, leaving the younger man to realise what he had just said. Oh. Shit.
"Little Wing…" Dick's eyes were wide open in surprise. He needed to go, now.
"No, forget it," And he was about to tug again, this time applying more strength than before, when he heard Dick giggling.
"Jason, come on, come here-" the older man tried to pull him away from the door, but Jason shook his head, feeling an ashamed blush creeping up his cheeks.
"I'm not about to get made fun of for this." He gritted out, trying to get himself free.
"Noooo, nobody is making fun of you… Maybe. But! But, come here!" There was no escaping this, was there? He sighed as he let himself be pulled into Dick's space, away from the front door. He fucked it. So bad. There was a moment of silence, Dick's expression clearly amused. Jason felt himself frown.
"Are you jealous of a plushie, Jay?"
"That's it, I'm going."
"Noooooooo" Dick hugged him, hindering him from moving any further. He was about to bite back with a very mean remark, but then he was met with Dick's puppy eyes and felt all the rage slowly wash away. When did he get so fucking soft, anyway?
"And what if I was?" He answered instead, making Dick smile mischievously. Oh no, he knew that look.
"Do you want me to cuddle you? Kiss you? You want all your big brother's attention?" Hook, line and sinker, he told himself as he looked away, embarrassed.
"Maybe…" He muttered.
"Then come and get it, big guy." He needed a second to digest what he had just heard before he gazed at Dick's pleased expression, which merely flicked up above Jason's head before returning to his gaze. He followed his eyes.
Mistletoe. They were standing under the mistletoe.
He looked back at Dick's satisfied smile and then, without wasting any more time, he quickly untangled the older man from him and kissed him. The rest, the way he lifted him off the ground, the way Dick's hands were finally on him, tugging on the hair in the back of his nape, licking inside his mouth, those were all side effects to which Jason paid no mind because he was kissing Dick. The motherfucker had been planning since the start; he had him wrapped around his finger like a damn fool.
"Finally," Dick said against his lips at some point, continuing to leave small kisses on Jason's cheek, then wandering down to his neck. The latter sighed as he walked back into the living room, finding it empty.
Ah, it was a group effort, too. He was going to kill Damian.
"Couldn't you just tell me?" Jason murmured as he sat on the sofa, making Dick straddle his lap. He took a discarded blanket that was on the sofa and wrapped it around themselves, as the older man repositioned himself better and curled up against his chest like a cat.
"I did, multiple times, but unfortunately for both of us, you are dense."
"No, I'm not!" He felt scandalised at the notice.
"Trust me, you don't want to go down that path." Dick chuckled against his chest, nuzzling his face as he had done with the plushie not too long ago. Ah, right: where the fuck was the plushie?
"Where's-" "-I've put him away, in a place where you can't find him and hurt his feelings."
Jason rolled his eyes in annoyance.
"I will destroy it, one day, I hope you know." Dick snorted, amused.
"Oh, I'm sure, but until then you'll have to replace him and be a good plushie, think you can manage?" Jason felt himself huff before hugging Dick tightly against his chest.
"I can be a good boyfriend." He felt the older man hum.
"Then so be it." He nodded, making Jason snicker and leave a kiss on the crown of his head.
Yeah, then so be it. Finally.