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“Join us.” Nightwing said grinning, hand clamped over a bruised rib, “You’ve helped me three times now, clearly we need you.”
Red Hood’s mask gave away nothing, white lenses unmoving.
“What can I say? I’ve got a bad habit.” Red Hood shrugged, tone mocking and light, “Don’t worry though, after this, I’m going cold turkey.”
Hood was uninjured, moves like liquid as he put away the dagger back to his belt. He hadn’t used it, hadn’t needed to not even with the fifty odd men Nightwing had left. Actually he hadn’t killed a sole person in the entire time Nightwing knew him, despite the guns and knifes on his person, despite the way he wore a murderer’s old outfit.
He bucked the trend Nightwing had first feared when he’d caught eye on Hood, learned its history.
“Come on,” Nightwing tried again, not ready to let this man, with this much training, this much potential, go, “You’d get a network of allies, have some cool gadgets… you might even meet the great Batman!”
Yeah, Dick could pin that accent. He knew another Gothamite when he heard one.
Red Hood stood still, fingers twitching, his head angled straight at Dick. The dull echo of a distant tap dripping on to the concrete rang in the warehouse. A steady tap-tap, tap, tap-tap that Dick could feel eating up the time between them as Red Hood's hands twitched. Finally the Red Hood shook his head almost violently, and snorted, picking up his bike where he’d left it skidding in.
“I’ll pass.” Hood called back as he kicked the motor into gear.
It sounded like he was laughing. Nightwing frowned as the Hood took off, leaving skid-marks in his wake.
It felt like he never understand that man.
-=-
“You can eat with us you know,” Dick suggested, the rest of the team sneaking glances up from their plates to watch the exchange, “We don’t bite.”
They were all a bunch of gossips, but Dick really couldn’t blame them. The Red Hood stood out like a sore thumb standing awkwardly in their kitchen, hanging slightly off to the side as they all sat down with their plates.
“Unless you asked nicely.” Conner muttered under his breath.
“Ha, ha very funny.” Wally laughed painfully loud, feet kicking under the table at everyone close to Conner, and managing to score a solid hit on Dick's shin. But Wally wasn't deterred, leaning forward and whispering hotly in a voice Dick knew carried, “Don’t scare him off!”
Oh yes, his team in all their glory. Dick couldn’t help but wince.
None of this seemed to impress the Red Hood.
But neither, notably, did it discourage him.
His hood still faced Nightwing, tilting in some form of acknowledgement that… really, could have meant anything but was clear it was only acceptance when he shrugged off his leather jacket, swinging it easily around the spare chair beside Dick.
“Why not.”
Dick tried to push down the mirth that sprung to his expression, focusing instead on piling a spare plate with food, and dropping it in front of Red Hood as he got comfortable on the chair.
Then everyone waited.
Red Hood didn’t seemed to care, even if it was obvious what they were waiting for. Causal like he’d done it a thousand times before, which Dick considered he’d probably had, he curled his fingers under his helmet, pulling a few latches, and sliding it off his head.
Smooth skin, tanned but not dark, maybe mixed heritage, revealed itself. But that wasn't all, and as Red Hood pulled off the mask, a stark red domino waited underneath.
“Oh come on.” Wally whined.
The rest of the team chuckled, laughed, sniped and joked about it, but Dick couldn’t-
Dick couldn’t move.
Couldn’t breathe.
He looked similar to- to-. There were differences, of course, the age was all wrong, and the jaw was thicker but… He could almost be…
Red Hood was watching him.
“There a problem Nightwing?” Red Hood asked, head tilting forward like it was a secret, words pressed softly between them.
Problem.
No.
Because that was impossible and there were billions of people in the world and of course some people would look like others and-
God Dick was just going insane.
No problem at all.
Dick swallowed down the suddenly overwhelming desire to question, to prod, to understand, and just smiled, tried to make it as cheeky as he could and knew it came off as forced.
“Nah, just surprised you actual have a face under there.” Dick told him and leant forward to knock on the helmet jokingly.
His laugh echoed around the table, the others picking up on it, breaking any tension in the room as they returned to their meals.
But Red Hood didn’t smile, didn’t laugh. His expression was overly still, his attention still only on Dick, and his body tense like he was going to bolt any moment.
Dick broke the stare, turning to his own plate, looking down at the suddenly unappetising greens.
He couldn’t be.
No. He wasn’t. Jason’s death anniversary was coming up again, and he was just on Dick’s mind. That was it.
He wasn’t.
Dick glanced up again, fire-quick, taking in the slope of Red Hood’s cheekbones and looked back to his plate again.
He wasn’t.
-=-
“Seriously.” Dick tried, hanging upside down watching Hood defuse a bomb, the man had a grace that was addictive to watch, “Come join us. I love your style.”
Hood laughed lowly, fingers still moving deftly under the bomb.
“Do you now?” Red Hood was smirking, sure Dick couldn’t see it, but he knew he was, “That’s new.”
Dick raised a brow, twisting and landing lightly on his feet.
“Really? Cause it shouldn’t be.” Dick was grinning, as Red Hood snipped the last wire, “You’ve got some brilliant moves. I thought someone would have told you before now.”
Red Hood dusted off his hands, shaking his head slightly.
“Are you trying to flatter me into joining?” Red Hood asked dryly, but hint of amusement flickered on his lips.
“Depends,” Dick tilted his head, “Is it working?”
Red Hood snorted, “You don’t want me on your team Nightwing.”
-=-
One moment Dick had been working alone, causally checking up references to Red Hood on the network again (finding nothing more than the Joker references which this Red Hood certainly wasn’t), the next Wally was beside him. He leant against the desk, propping himself up with his elbows, raising a brow at Dick. He was smiling like the cat that fell into the cream.
“Sooo,” Wally began drawling, in a way he probably thought was still subtle even with an eyebrow waggle, “Are you and Red now…”
“No Wally.” Dick replied, then cocked a brow right back, “Do you want to…”
Wally flushed, straightening in a blink hands out by his side.
“No. No. He’s not my type. Not an archer. Not a blonde.” Then Wally was back to smirking slyly, “But you on the other hand..”
The one problem with being friends with a speedster. There was really no escape.
“You think he’s my type?” Dick asked dryly, avoiding the inevitable.
Wally’s eyes shifted to the side.
“Well… he is mysterious, good looking from what we’d seen (which admittedly, limited), and he seems to like bantering with you.” Wally brightened, “He’s also breathing, which automatically makes him your type.”
Dick laughed, swiping at Wally playfully and placing the perfect foot to trip him when Wally dodged the swipe. He fell on the ground and Wally grinned foolishly up.
“So are you?” Wally asked, grinning bright as day.
Dick turned back to the screens, minimising the screens and deleting the searches. No need to let Hood know what he was doing. Not when he now had access to the same computers.
“Am I what?” Dick asked, overly innocent as he closed down the last of the browsers.
Wally sighed impatiently, back standing at Dick’s elbow again.
“Are you you-know-ing with him?” Wally asked, avoiding the sex word like he always did just like when they were kids.
Some habits you just didn’t grow out of.
“No I’m not.” Dick rolled his eyes, “What makes you think-“
“The background checks for one.” Wally replied instantly looking at the screen and raising a finger, “Then there is the constant staring, the flirting, which yeah, everyone has noticed, the way you two always seem to be alone, you work ridiculously well together in fact I think you almost move in sync-“
“Alright, ok but he-“ Dick started.
“He,” Wally overrode pointedly, “stares back at you just as much, is always at your side, has made no effort to get to know anyone else, came at your request…”
Dick felt himself blink a bit stupidly, Wally rolled his eyes and nudged him again.
“For god sake, go get him.”
Wally nudged him and left in a whirlwind.
Dick stared at the space he left, felt something hot sink low in his gut.
-=-
“To respond to your question in advance,” Red Hood said, spinning over a bad guy’s head, landing and kicking him in the back of the knees and knocking him out with a hit to the neck, “No.”
Nightwing landed, taking out three of the wannabe thieves, and launched himself at the forth.
“You’re assuming I’m going to ask again.” Nightwing called back, smirking.
Red Hood gave him a dry look as the last thief fell down. Somehow disbelief carried through that hood easily.
Sprung.
Nightwing shrugged, “Can’t blame me for trying.”
Red Hood shook his head.
“Really. Give it up. You are so much better off without me.”
Self depreciating. Interesting.
“Why not a test run?” Nightwing shot back, grinning.
Red Hood didn’t respond, and when Nightwing turned around he was gone.
-=-
Somehow they’d ended up alone.
It had been a long day. A bunch of killer robots gone rogue, and too many civilians too close to the line of fire.
The team had trickled out of their lounge room gradually. Wally and Artemis leaving arm in arm, Megan and Kaldur with a sleepy yawn and Conner creeping off like he’d never been there.
Dick had stayed up, tension from the fight still buzzing under his skin, and the identities of the scientists who created the robots flicking over the tablet in front of him.
Red Hood had stayed as well.
He sat, legs splayed out, head tilted down to the guns he was religiously cleaning. Motions like clockwork, back and forth, grabbing a different cloth, working on the joints.
Red Hood never stayed pass dinner.
He had his own room, yes, but he never used it, always vanishing out of their base before it came time to sleep.
But tonight he stayed.
Dick watched his face contort as he worked at his guns, the way the pale slip of skin between his jacket and his gloves winked out with every downwards move. Felt his mouth dry.
“You’re staring.” Red Hood commented finally, breaking the silence head moving up to look at him but hardly looking uncomfortable about the inspection.
He rarely looked uncomfortable at anything.
Suddenly and impulsively, Dick wandered what it would take to make the Red Hood uncomfortable.
Red Hood’s helmet was off, resting on the table, leaving his face bare but for that stark red mask. There was something deeply familiar about his face, about the slope of his jaw and the curve his nose. The more he looked, the less Dick saw of… Jason, the more Dick looked, the more he saw someone older and completely different.
“You’re still staring.” Red Hood commented again, now smirking, “Can’t take your eyes off Nightwing?”
Flirting. Yeah. Dick had noticed it long ago and knew he flirted right back. It never had been a conscious decision, Dick’s mouth had moved before he’d first thought about it. Couldn't regret it though.
“Why? Does it bother you?” Dick asked back, eyes lowered, his own mask still on.
Masks on because it was common rule. Reveal your identity or keep both covered. Red Hood had never made like he wanted to reveal it, so chances were he was someone of note (someone alive worthy of note).
Not that it mattered. Dick Grayson was too.
Red Hood tilted his own head, revealing the hint of skin above the Kevlar of his shirt and the leather of his jacket. A thin strip of tanned skin, Dick had to swallow.
“Depends.” Red Hood was watching him intently, “who do you see when you look at me?”
Jason. Dick thought immediately and squashed it because that was impossible, and stupid and besides, this wasn’t Jason, couldn’t be Jason, because Jason didn’t have a jaw that looked like that, didn’t have cheekbones that sharp, didn’t have that thin strip of tempting skin…
Dick rose, heat pooling in his belly and walked slowly through the space that separated them. He smiled low and teasing.
“I see a teammate, a human with moves like liquid and impressive speed.” Dick stopped, standing above him, and Red Hood was watching him, something strangely vulnerable about his expression that only made the sudden want in Dick’s belly expand, “Names aren’t really that important are they?”
Red Hood’s expression did something strange, flicking. He stood, chest to chest for a heartbeat, but body angling away. Preparing to run.
“I think you-“ Red Hood started, sounding wrong, too uncertain.
Dick didn’t let him. He reached out, hands curling around Red Hood’s neck and pulled him in. Dick kissed him, a gentle leading kiss. Despite his words, Red Hood instantly responded. Their tongues twisted, slow and dangerous together and Red Hood’s hands crept around Dick’s back pulling him closer.
It felt like the dam was finally breaking and it was all Dick could do to go along with it.
Somewhere along the line their kiss turned desperate. Dick’s hands pulling off Red Hood’s jacket and Red Hood pressing close enough it was if he wanted to melt into Dick.
“Don’t you have-” Red Hood pulled back, laying nips and kisses down Dick’s neck, “A room.”
Dick laughed, giddy and grabbed Red Hood, pulling him impossibly closer as he started to walk them both backwards.
“You do too.” Dick reminded him, breathless, not that Hood ever used it, “But mine is closer.”
They stumbled backwards, bodies bumping together and generally missing all the breakables but ending up with Red Hood pressed hard against the wall as Dick tried to keep undressing him, kissing him, and waving his room door open.
Red Hood laughed, sounding deeply amused as Dick let out a low curse.
“Not a multitasker?” He asked back, just as Dick opened the door.
“I’ll show you my multitasking.” Dick promised shoving Red Hood quickly through the door.
It was rough, hard and fast. They didn’t make it to the bed, falling on the floor, bodies rolling. Red Hood’s suit was peeled off, pants off, but when Dick’s hands strayed over the domino Red Hood froze, slapping them away.
“No, don’t.” Red Hood reprimanded tightly.
It was a whip reaction, and Dick moved quickly to relive the tension by agreeing with a moan, kissing Red Hood again. He filed away to look at later. Soon enough it was forgotten, and they laughed and rolled, biting and kissing in equal measure. Dick had never before had such a equal and it was addictive to test him. After the first round went too quickly, Dick made measures of Red Hood’s flexibility (very), strength (extreme), and stamina (endless).
All too soon they were flat on the bed, domino’s on, nothing else. Sheet tangled somewhere near their feet. Scooping up enough energy Dick rolled over, dropping a kiss on a shoulder and collapsing close enough to sling an arm over.
“That was-“ Dick panted out, exhausted.
“Yeah.” Red Hood agreed equally as tired, and didn’t move Dick’s hand.
Dick smiled, eyes fluttering close and felt the Red Hood’s heart beat slowing under his hand.
-=-
Red Hood looked surprised to see Dick drop through the hatch and instantly start working on his bonds.
“Does this help my cause?” Dick asked quietly, getting through the wrist ties and starting to work on his ankles.
Red Hood chuckled softly, sound catching at might be a broken rib.
“I thought it would have hurt it.” Red Hood sniped back, sagging slightly.
“Oh we all have bad days.” Nightwing assured, “And we don’t leave any one behind on the team.”
“Not on your team.” Red Hood replied, hunching over.
Dick pulled him up, “Doesn’t matter. Besides I like to think you’re not on the team yet.”
Red Hood was staring at him.
“Why do you want me on your team so badly?”
Dick smiled, “There’s something about you.”
Red Hood stared at him, lensed eyes a façade of white.
“How do you know you’d like it?”
-=-
Dick’s eyes opened blearily, seeing a body beside him smiled wider and curled closer. He felt warm, comfortable, a good weariness weighing him down. The face beside him, masked in a domino, flickered, lenses moving like Dick’s bed partner was just waking. Dick grinned, moved forward and lay a kiss on a cheek.
In the morning he looked beautiful. High cheekbones, strong jaw, soft skin. Through blearily eyes it was a like a moment from the past, in a different setting, innocent setting, with someone else, someone younger. Someone curled next to him on a sofa after a long movie.
There was a soft snuffle and Dick’s smile only increased.
“Morning Dick,” Came a voice from memory, deeper, rougher but the same.
Dick smiled lazily, “Morning Jay.”
In the quiet the words echoed, the reality set it.
Red Hood froze hard, and Dick’s eyes shot wide.
Where Red Hood had been someone different last night, someone else, darkness shaping a new face, all Dick could see this morning was Jason, only emphasised by the lack of clothes. He had Jason’s nose, Jason’s jaw, Jason’s cheekbones, Jason’s shoulders and a familiar scar that ran from chest to bellybutton and… and…
And he’d said Dick’s name.
Red Hood was up in a flash, pants on, jacket thrown over the top and Dick surged forward, heart thundering. He leaped at him, seizing his shoulders. Red Hood threw an elbow, catching him the jaw but Dick’s fingers got under the domino just as he did so. The domino tore off as Dick landed heavily on the bed, feeling plastic, soft in his fingers.
Jason’s blue-green eyes were wide and staring down at him. He looked terrified.
Jason. Jason.
But Jason was-
Out the door.
Dick struggled quickly into a pair of pants, running full tilt after him. Jason’s domino still in his hands.
He sprinted passed the kitchen, vaguely seeing Superboy, and Wally and-
Dick skidded to a stop.
“Wally! Grab Red Hood now.” Dick ordered crisply.
Wally raised a suspicious brow, “Hey if you two had a fight after your-“
“Now!” Dick yelled and Wally was gone in a blur.
That would slow him down and Dick flew out the door, skidded around the corner to see Wally hitting the wall hard, Jason’s eyes were narrowed, almost crazed looking as they turned to him.
Dick slowed, hands wide.
“Jason.” He said slowly, because it was, Dick knew it was, “Jason please.”
It was Jason. It could be no one else but Jason standing there, suddenly and strangely older and alive. It was Jason standing there looking dishevelled from Dick, god, and alone in the hallway. Lost without the weapons they had to put in the decontamination room.
There was movement from the other team members, Superboy, Wally, M’gann, Artemis, all spreading out wide. They gave Dick and Jason their privacy but they blocked all the exits.
Then Jason’s face was snapping down, expression setting on something hard. His hands balled into fists.
“Let me go Dick.” Jason’s eyes were sloping to the exits, the team, trying to find a weak point.
“No.” Dick stepped forward, hating the way Jason flinched at the movement, he kept his voice gentle, “Come on, just talk to me, please. “
A rough laugh escaped Jason.
“About what?” Jason asked, hands, clenching and unclenching, “About how I’m not dead, cause I did die, about what I’m doing here?”
Dick took another step, heart twisting.
“Jay-“
“I didn’t mean to come here!” Jason yelled and he was a kid all over again, and Dick had pulled him out trouble by the cape, “I didn’t want this!”
He hadn’t. That’s why he’d tried so hard to turn down Dick. That’s why he always said no. Until Dick had pushed him into it.
“But you are here.” Dick reasoned, trying to stay calm despite the rabbit pounding of his heart, “And you’re alive. Please can we talk?”
Jason’s expression flattened.
“Or maybe,” Jason said lowly, voice empty, “You want to talk about how you screwed your little brother last night?”
Dick stared, stomach floored. He had… they had… but they… not like…
There was something silver in his hand then smoke filled up thick and fast though the corridor, blocking Dick’s vision in a matter of seconds, the sound of shattering glass filled the air and Dick ran instinctively to the noise. The window was smashed and there was no sign of Jason anywhere.
-=-
Dick was comfortable on the ledge, watching Gotham stretch before him. Lights like flickering and flared, brushing up buildings as cars and trucks travelled past far below.
“Go on, ask. State your argument again.”
Nightwing smiled, despite himself. Feeling Red Hood sit close beside, shoulder almost brushing Dick’s.
“Why?”
“Cause maybe, I might say yes.”
“You should. Its lonely going lone wolf all the time. A team is good… its like a family…”
“Its been a while since I had anything like that.”
Dick could understand that. He turned to the Red Hood, seeing the vigilante’s hands tucked together on his lap.
“So Red Hood, would you join the team?”
The tone was playful, “Since you asked.”