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Jett twirls around on the one barstool in this shit hole of a ‘safe-house’. Jason’s place consists of nothing but boxes, a ratty old mattress, a ripped couch he dragged in off the street, and one barstool. The barstool is easily the most comfortable place to sit here, usually the place that Jason shoos them away from because he wants it for himself. Since he's not currently sitting on it, Jett hopped up with glee.
Jett would let Lian have the barstool, but he’s never claimed to be a gentleman. Plus, if you ask the losers on TikTok, doing something for a girl because she’s a girl is some form of sexism.
So really, it’s politer that he doesn’t.
Besides, she looks content leaning against the wall, sneaking a picture of Jason Todd with a grin on her face.
Ezra and PJ are on the couch, shifting every once in a while in discomfort, because the exposed springs keep digging into their asses. It’s been nearly a month of these meetups, and the furniture quality is still shit. Maybe less than shit, maybe Jason actually dragged them out from hell to keep in this disgusting place. That fact wouldn't surprise Jett in the slightest to hear.
Although, to be fair to Jason, he didn’t have the barstool or the couch the first couple of times they all came over, so really, the ratty furniture is an upgrade. Or well, a nice thought at best.
“So when are you gonna get a PS5?” Jett asks the old man puttering around the kitchen, growling about having to cook ungrateful little shits dinner.
Jason raises an eyebrow at him. “And hook it to what?”
“Get a T.V.”
“You pay for it.”
Like the dude can’t be serious, he has a billionaire for a dad and he slums it like this. Besides, he made hella money from finding Cole. Jason tried to do the honorable thing and turn down the money once the job got more personal because he got so mixed up with Cole’s friends, but Cole’s parents threw it at him anyway, protests be damned.
That’s something no one’s mentioned yet - Jason came to Seattle because he took the job to find Cole. They got him back a week ago. He still hasn’t left. Jett thinks he’s getting attached, even if he likes to deny it and call them all thorns in his side. 'Something, something, pain in my ass, something, something, deep down I love you five more than life itself!' Okay, maybe Jett's getting a little carried away, but you get the idea. Jason's tough guy act is easy to see through.
Jett grins at the older man. “If you slide me your card, I could fix this place up for you. I’m thinking a Donkey Kong machine right there, a 3D game pad in that corner, a slide coming down through the ceiling over there, a foosball table, a dart board–”
“Air hockey machine,” Ezra adds.
“Air hockey machine,” Jett agrees, with a snap and point at his friend. “If you actually paint the crusty walls, this place could be awesome!”
Jason looks very unimpressed. “I rent.”
“Yeah? From who, Satan?” Who else would lease a place like this?
“If Satan was a five foot, sixty year old white guy with a Napoleon complex, then sure.”
“Pretty sure he is,” PJ adds, frowning at Red Hood’s iconic red helmet. Jason gave it to him to mess with a couple days ago, saying something was up with the wiring. Jason could have fixed it himself, but PJ goes cross-eyed with love at tech and had a hell of a time fixing Jason’s bike and armor, so he gave him the helmet to tinker with. “Man, what did you do to this thing?”
Jason shrugs. “I haven’t worn it in a while.”
“Aunt Kori says hi,” Lian tells him, smiling down at her phone. Lian knows a lot of the older heroes, people on both the Titans and Justice League because of her father, Roy Harper, aka Arsenal. Jett would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little jealous.
“Tell her she can come get her stuff tomorrow.”
Lian looks up to raise an eyebrow at him. “Don’t you have a phone?”
Jason rolls his eyes, used to the level of sass and laziness the teens give him when he asks them to do anything.
“Hopefully it’s not tech you’re talking about,” PJ mumbles. “I’ve only seen one piece of Tamaran tech before, and it was a beauty. With how you treat yours, you should stay away from it so you don’t destroy it.”
Jason predictably ignores him.
Bored, Jett spins faster on his barstool, having to entertain himself because Jason refuses to get them anything to do when they’re over here. Jett feels the electric hum of his powers under his skin zipping around, wanting to be used. Chaos is great for him, but sometimes it has a mind of its own. Who would have thought-chaos powers being chaotic?
He lets out a little of his power, spinning faster, and loses focus for a second, getting too dizzy and falling off the stool. A cool force wraps around him before he gets far, keeping him upright and then placing him lightly back down on the stool. Jett looks over at Ezra with a grin. “Nice catch.”
“Nice balance you got there,” Ezra shoots in reply.
“We should train,” Jason says suddenly, like this is an epiphany he had watching the mess of a boy in front of him. “Have either of you had training before? I know Lian and Jeffery have.”
“What kind of training?” Ezra asks, sitting forward as his team-leader mind whirls at the idea.
“Combat, situational, intelligence, all the basic stuff.”
“I don’t need someone to teach me how to kick ass, I already do it,” Jett replies.
Jason stares at him for a long moment before whispering, “Oh, God.” The look on his face is pure displeasure, and maybe a little unease swimming around in his eyes.
Jason mandates training after that conversation, and holds the first session the next night, where the five teens, since Eugene is here too, stand on a random football practice field Jason chose to train on, as the harsh glow of the stadium lights shines down on them. Jason stands across from them, with his hands on his hips, and his mouth set in a thin line while he scrutinizes them. They all stare boredly back at him, PJ even shifting on his feet, while they wait for literally anything to happen.
“So,” Jett breaks the long silence, bored to death and about to make it Jason's problem. “Is this when you teach us how to ride your bike?”
“Hell fucking no. You’re never touching it," comes the harsh answer.
“What! Fairplay got to ride it!”
“What?"
“I fixed it up. I had to do a test run to make sure it ran good,” PJ replies, smooth as can be, ignoring Jason’s gaping incredulity.
Lian raises her hand, completely unapologetically. “I took it for a spin, too.”
“The fuck?! No one touches my damn bike.”
“Hey, if they both got a turn, I want one!” Jett demands.
“You could buy us our own,” Ezra says. “It would be more efficient.”
“I second that!” Eugene adds. “Not all of us can fly.”
“Isn’t having a motorcycle a Teen Titans thing?” Jett asks, desperately wanting one now that the thought is in his head. Plus, he's pretty sure they had one, or at least Robin did.
“No! It’s never been," Jason answers, tone rather snappy.
“Oh, come on, all you Gotham vigilantes have one,” Jett points out. “If you can ride it at your old age, we’ll be fine.”
“I’m not old!”
“Dude, you’re like forty.”
“I’m twenty-four, you little shit.”
“Yikes.”
“Unc,” Lian coughs into her hand.
Jason rubs a gloved hand over his domino mask-covered eyebrows. “I should have given you to Dick,” He mutters.
“But you can’t anymore!” Ezra says, a grin on his face. “You’d miss us if we were gone.”
“I miss my peace and quiet from before you bulldozed your way into my life.”
Jett snorts. “Sure, grandpa, whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t sleep,” Lian says. “No one can sleep on the tragic thing you call a mattress.”
“Oh, relax, little princess. Your dad and I have had to sleep in worse places.”
“That’s literally not a good thing.”
“Did we come out here just to bicker?” Eugene asks, rubbing his arms to warm himself in his tiny jacket. “We could have done that in the gross apartment and not out in the cold.”
Jett, totally a gentleman now, thank you, takes off his warm, fur lined coat and holds it out with a smile. “Don’t say I never do anything for you.”
Eugene takes it without arguing, too cold to put up a fight. October nights in Seattle are bitter cold, and he’s a tiny little dude. Just as Jett’s feeling good about being an upstanding citizen, a hero some might say, something smacks him on the side of his face.
Cold water pours down his cheek and onto his t-shirt. He gapes, turning to look at Jason in shock. “What the hell, dude!” He demands, wiping water off his face.
Jason’s standing there, wearing a proud grin, holding another water balloon that he pulled from mid-fucking-air. “You can’t let your guard down even for a second in the field.”
“Keep that water away from me!” PJ calls out, worried about his tech instead of rushing to Jett’s defense like a good friend and teammate would. Can someone say betrayal?
Jason gets into a throwing stance. “Better dodge then!”
They scatter instantly, running from the psycho with water balloons. “Who the fuck let grandpa out of the nursing home?!” Jett yells, jumping to the side to dodge an incoming projectile thrown with what has to be a month of built-up frustration.
“Oh, you’re going to get it, you little shit!” Jason yells, the fucking crazy ass, and throws another water balloon at him.
Jett yelps, jumping sideways again to try to avoid the newest orange ball of water-filled doom flying towards his face. Right before it’s supposed to hit him, it stops mid-air, then zips back where it came from, pelting Jason right in the face.
Jett has never been more grateful for Ezra Calder and his telekinesis than he is right now. Jett laughs loudly at the karma, watching with glee as Jason rubs a hand down his dripping wet mask covered eyes. He looks pissed off. It’s fucking hilarious. And so deserved.
“Ha, I got the money shot.” Lian grins, holding up her phone that's still recording.
Two minutes later, Jason's making them run suicides under the threat of getting Oracle to implode their Discord server.