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It wasn't his fault, exactly. It was just something that happened. Everyone who wanted to have any kind of relationship with one Dick Grayson had to know that messes happened around him.
Sometimes, they weren't exactly visible. Dick Grayson was a mess in and off himself. Circus kid, Boy Wonder, Richard Grayson-Wayne, Nightwing, Batman, Agent 37. Somedays, Jason wonders with just who he really is sleeping with. The first Robin has so many issues that it honestly still scares Jason, makes him want to go back to hating him, go back to when he didn't know that the smile that always infuriated him was much more for the elder's mental health than it was for everyone else.
Sometimes, Jason thinks that they are too fucked up to be together, that they will only destroy the other one, that it would be wiser to maintain a long-distance relationship of texts once a week if lucky and be done. But, sometimes, when Dick sits on the couch, rocking himself to a melody only he can hear and only needs that Jason sits by his side, reading or cleaning his guns, when Jason needs his space, needs to hit and to beat and destroy Dick offers a willing target for rough rooftop-tag, takes him to deserted building where he watches as Jason unloads his guns on sand sacks, takes him hunting for rabid animals marked to be put down because the Pit in Jason needs to see the blood , that Jason thinks that maybe they are a match made in heaven.
Sometimes, the messes that Dick leaves behind are more physical ones. Clothes discarded on the floor, bloodied shirts and sheets, three quarters of the house's pots and dishes piled up in the sink with half-eaten cereal creating and ecosystem of their own, piles and piles of papers and reports and notes throw around the living room because the golden boy is old-fashioned and prefers to write things down on paper.
Tim thinks they are stupid, because it's the physical messes that spark fights more often than the mental ones, but it's something about the physical evidence that tips Jason off and sends him on a cleaning-screaming-swearing spree.
Jason needs everything in sight, he needs to see everything he owns in case he needs to escape, he needs a clean and short path from bed-to-door so he can wake up, get his guns (below his pillow), his duffel with clothes (besides his nightstand), his keys (on the balcony) and be off. Dick needs to bury his things. He buries all evidence of any identity that isn't the one he is using currently under dirty laundry and weeks worth of take-out packs. When he gets home and sheds his skin as Officer Grayson, he buries it in the depths of the laundry basket, puts on comfy sweats and buries any second worry in greasy food and bad music. When he comes back from one night as Nightwing, he buries his uniform under the bedroom's mat, falls face-first into the pillow and, if Jason is there or not, buries all of his worries in sex or pill-induced sleep.
That said, because God sometimes is good and decides to grace Jason's weekly visits to the church with something good for a change, when Jason comes home one day and asks "... What happened while I was gone?" to a living room buried in clothes, cloths of differents types, wayward zippers and buttons, Dick with his hands covered in band-aids holding a sewing needle and Dick looks at him, serious, and answers "Dami's Halloween party" in a deadpan, Jason decides that he should get out, buy a wine that suited Dick's fancy taste, a six-pack and call Roy so he could help Dick, since he had more than enough home-made halloween fantasies under his belt for Lian and they all could catch up on series when all is done.