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Roy shoves his way through the masses of bodies, the sound of chatter and Christmas music over intercoms hums pleasantly in his ears. The airport is crowded, with only days until Christmas, and everyone is rushing in and out of the grime-filled city. Roy slings his bag over his shoulder, shoots over to the escalator. He narrowly dodges a pair of children running past him, giggling happily as their dad chases after them with an aggrieved expression on his face.
Roy takes a minute to catch his breath, breathing in the smell of cinnamon and peppermint from a coffee shop at the bottom of the stairs. He waits patiently despite the people pressing against his body.
It’s been around three years since he last visited Gotham and saw his best friend, at least, out of the cape. Roy had spent the last few months in Madrid on a case, his skin no doubt still tan from his stay. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. He missed Dick, calling him every week wasn’t the same as seeing him and Roy needed a break from all the traveling around.
Roy steps off the escalator and tries to stop and look for Dick’s familiar face, annoyed when he can barely see past the sea of bodies in his way. He huffs, turning around to follow the trail of delicious-smelling coffee before he hears a voice he’d recognize anywhere, “Roy!”
Dick’s body crashes into his own, and Roy drops his bags on autopilot to wrap his arms around his best friend's neck. He smells like vanilla and spice, Dick pushes him back to get a better look at his face.
“Well, look who it is?” Dick’s eyes dance with humor, “I haven’t seen you in years, man. It’s good to see you.”
”Yeah, tell me about it. I missed you like crazy.” Roy agrees but makes an annoyed noise when another body shoves against his. Dick laughs and grabs Roy’s bag off the floor, wrapping his arm around Roy’s shoulder.
”Let’s get out of here, I hope you packed warm because it's cold as hell out there.” Dick huffs, “They’re saying it’s the coldest winter in years.”
“Just my luck,” Roy grumbles, “Are we headed to the manor?”
“Yeah, Bruce managed to get the whole family to stay for Christmas week. We all have bets on how long he’ll take to regret that.” Dick rolls his eyes, the doors to the airport open and a burst of wind hits Roy straight in the face, nipping at his nose.
The Gotham air stinks of pollution, the air heavy and gray but the dark city itself is lit up with lights.
”And everyone agreed to that?” Roy questions, the idea of the whole Batclan in one place seems like a catastrophe waiting to happen and Roy isn’t even sure he’s met all of them yet. Dick laughs loudly, leading him down the street.
“Tim and Jason weren’t too impressed with the idea but they’ll be fine.” Dick waves his hand in a ‘so-so’ motion.
Jason, the name sounds familiar but Roy can’t seem to place it. He ponders it over for a moment before it clicks. Jason, the one who became a poster child for sidekicks and a caution tale to always listen to orders. He was Robin after Dick had become Nightwing, Roy remembers him but only just, his memories are a little fuzzy from that period. He had been in pretty rough shape those few years. He remembers a boy a few years younger than him, with a bright smile and a cheery attitude.
While Roy didn’t remember him well, he remembers the heartbreak left in his aftermath. He also remembers the haunting tale of him coming back with a vengeance. God, how upset Dick had been. He hated when his family fought and that's all they had done when Jason had come back, it was bloody and violent. Roy had met Tim in the aftermath, and Jason had fucked him up real good.
“Is it a good idea for those two to be in the same vicinity?” Roy tries to say it lightly, jokingly even, but it misses the mark. Dick glances back up at him with a quirk of a brow.
“What do you mean?” Dick asks, he perks up a second later and points, “That’s my car. Hop in, dude.”
Roy smiles, listening as the car beeps and the doors unlock. Roy slides into the passenger side, while Dick throws his bag into the back. His breath comes out in icy fogs and he attempts to warm his hands up by rubbing them together. When Dick turns on the car and the heat hits him in the face, he lets out a sigh of relief.
They’re pulling out into the streets when Dick makes a small noise of realization, Roy turns to him and Dick shakes his head in amusement.
“Jason and Tim are pretty tight nowadays–” Roy must make some kind of expression of disbelief because Dick rolls his eyes, “Seriously, they look out for one another. Jason makes a pretty good older brother and Tim soaks up his attention like a sponge to water.”
Roy twists his lips, “Well, I guess it's good they got past their differences?”
“More like Jason got his head out of his ass, you mean.” Dick turns the dial to the music, “Trust me, I get it. It’s pretty weird but I once asked Jason why he liked Tim so much and he told me ‘he’s the only one in this family who doesn’t make me throw up a little when I see him’. I’ll take what I can get.”
Dick rolls his shoulders, “Anyways, enough about me, how have you been man? I heard from Kori you were in Madrid for a case?”
“Oh shit!” Roy perks up, “I gotta tell you about it. I was actually working on it with Vic, it was a total shitshow man–”
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The Wayne Manor is a large, towering mansion that seems to loom over Roy no matter how many times he’s seen it. Roy was born in a city with expensive taste, taken in by a man with even more money than he knew what to do with but Gotham's old money still manages to stun him. This time, at least it's not so scary with the abundant Christmas lights and decorations both on the roof and in the yard. It's a tacky sight.
“Dude.” Roy says as they step out of the car, “Did Santa Clause take a shit on your house?”
“Alfred's old fashioned,” Dick mutters, “Our complaints have been noted and not taken into consideration.”
Roy scrunches up his face and follows Dick up to the door, “We’ve even tried hiding the decorations but he always manages to find them. I won’t give up though.”
“I don’t know, I kind of like the tacky appeal. It reminds me of my grandma’s place.” That’s a lie, Roy doesn’t even know his grandma. Dick shoots him a glare and opens the front door with a dramatic flare.
“Welcome to Wayne Manor, my friend.” Dick allows him in first, and Roy takes in the smell of gingerbread and vanilla. It's warm so he immediately strips himself of his coat and throws it on the rack by the door. Dick does the same and slams the door shut,
“I’m home!” Dick calls, it’s silent before Alfred comes into the foyer with a slight smile and creases at the corners of his eyes.
“Master Dick. Mr.Harper. Let me, I’ll take your bags.” Alfred takes the bag from his hands before Roy can stop him and a sound of stampeding steps interrupts the peace. A boy and two girls come rushing down the steps, large grins on their faces as they giggle.
“Hey, Dick!” The boy greets, taking a look at Roy before holding out his hand, “Roy, right? I’m Duke, this is Stephanie and Cass.”
“Nice to meet you.” Roy grasps his hand and gives it a quick shake, Dick narrows his eyes and looks at Duke with suspicion.
“What are you three doing?” Dick asks, Duke gives an innocent grin that sends both Stephanie and Cass cackling. Duke takes his smile and starts to walk to the kitchen, the girls following him. Dick gives a tired sigh.
“They pranked someone.” Dick mutters, “I just hope it's not me. I’m going to be paranoid all night…”
Roy follows him into the living room, the room glowing with different colored lights. Roy looks up at the towering Christmas tree standing in the corner, its branches sparkling with a surplus of different colored ornaments. A roaring fire cackles in the stone fireplace, its mantle draped in garland and crimson ribbons with stockings hung neatly below.
Roy turns to the couch and sees Tim lying across the sofa with a fluffy wool blanket covering his legs, he’s on his computer and staring at it with a sharp intensity. Dick jumps onto the couch causing the computer to slip to the side of the couch as he wraps his arms around Tim.
“Dick!” Tim yelps, “Get off me! I’m working.”
“Working,” Roy says slyly, slipping onto the couch. Dick makes a similar noise to Tim when Roy sits on his feet, “Where’s your Christmas spirit, Timmy.”
“I left it at W.E. along with my sanity.” Tim states dryly before smiling, “Hey, Roy. It's been a while, how are you?”
“I’m alright,” Roy shrugs playfully, “You’re doing a lot better than the last time I saw you.”
Tim snorts, “I doubt I could be any worse than the last time you saw me.”
Dick shuffles underneath Roy’s weight, pulling his feet out from underneath Roy’s thighs. Dick grumbles and sits up, his arm still wrapped around his little brother's shoulders. Tim doesn’t seem to mind, if anything he seems to lean into the warmth which doesn’t go unnoticed by Dick—who beams proudly before pausing and frowning, “Do you know what Duke, Cass and Steph were up to?”
“Ah,” Tim rubs his face and drops his hands down to cover the smile gracing his lips, “they’re messing with–”
A loud curse and a thump interrupt him, then an even louder yell across the manor, “Duke!”
“Was that Bruce?” Roy asks in confusion, the voice is deep and slightly rough. His question causes Tim and Dick to burst into a fit of laughter. Loud steps start down the stairs and into the living room.
Roy’s jaw drops, standing at the entrance to the living room is a man with broad shoulders and strong arms that make his soaked shirt cling just right. His black hair, with a greyish streak that stands out, clings to his face and water runs down his sharp jaw. Roy clicks his mouth shut, the man's tan skin glows with the Christmas lights, and somehow–even while he’s wet, he still looks put together.
Dick leaps up from the couch and onto the large man, who manages not to go flying as Dick yells, “Little Wing!”
There’s a mix of annoyance and amusement on the man's face like he’s debating whether to laugh or throw Dick off. However, all Roy can wonder is how someone looks so good drenched in water.
“Holy shit!” Dick screeches, “You’re freezing!”
“I wonder why,” Tim comments wryly, Roy glances away from the man and ends up looking at Tim who’s staring at him with a slight tilt of his head. His eyes widen when he takes in the expression Roy wears and a slow, feral smile spreads across his face.
“You okay, Jason? Do you need my blanket?” Tim turns and asks the man, Roy’s eyes widen as he realizes who this hunk of a man is and distantly recognizes he was just checking out his best friend's little brother.
“Yeah, tha’ be nice.” Tim throws Jason the blanket, Jason blinks and seems to realize someone else is in the room, “Who’re you?”
Roy scrapes up all the courage he can and manages to give a confident smile, “I’m Roy Harper.”
Dick’s little brother grew up hot.
Dick’s little brother grew up hot.
It’s repeating in his head like an alarm, a blaring red alarm that's warning him–don’t do it.
“No shit?” Jason gives him an appreciative look, “I guess Christmas won’t be too bad this year.”
Well, Roy didn’t do it. But Jason did.
“Jason!” Dick yells with mild horror, “Absolutely not!”
Tim burst into another fit of laughter, almost falling off the couch in his amusement. Jason grumbles, “I’m just joking, Dick.”
“You better be,” Dick grumbles, grabbing Roy and pulling him out of the living room and back into the foyer, “I can’t believe he just said that, and to my best friend of all people. He’s such an asshole–”
Dick continues to complain and tugs Roy along like a helpless doll but Roy can’t seem to hear him over the shit-eating grin that spreads across his face, “–ight? Roy?”
Dick turns around and pauses in the middle of the hall, his annoyance disappears and the horror reappears.
“Roy.” Dick says slowly, “Don’t even think about it.”
“Think about what?” Roy asks, completely innocent.
“That's my little brother you’re giggling about and I will kill you.” Dick warns, “Don’t test me on this. He deserves someone better than an asshole like you anyways.”
Roy frowns, “I’m not an asshole.”
“He. Deserves. Better.” Dick pokes him in the chest, “Don’t think about it.”
“Fine, whatever. I won’t think about it.” Roy mumbles, Dick nods and turns back around.
“Come on, I gotta introduce you to Damian.”
Roy thinks about it anyway.
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The next morning’s chaos, an attempt by both Bruce and Alfred to wrangle everyone out of the house to bond. It works, but by the time they manage to get out of the manor it’s already afternoon which means the sun is officially hidden away by the pollution in the sky—god, this city is absolute shit…Although, Gotham, despite it being, well, Gotham, seems to have more holiday cheer than any other damn place he’s seen.
Roy’s decked out in an almost too warm cable knit sweater and leather jacket. The Christmas market sprawls across several blocks of the city nestled between townhouses and skyscrapers.
“Shit.” Tim mutters from beside him, “It’s cold.”
“I told you to bring a bigger jacket.” Jason scolds, “It’s only going to get colder and we’re not leaving to get your lazy ass another one.”
Snow falls lightly, blanketing the cobblestone streets and muffling the usual chaos of Gotham. Strings of glowing lights crisscross the alleyways, casting a warm rainbow glow across the roads. Booths are lined with red and green awnings and vendors sell everything from handmade ornaments to mugs of coco.
Roy glances at Tim who pouts, Stephanie has her armed linked in his in an attempt to share her body heat but she’s still smiling at Tim’s despair. Tim huffs, his breath fogging in the air, “Don’t you have a safehouse around here?”
“Not with a jacket! You stupid–”
“I’m going with father,” Damian grumbles, already walking off, “If I have to listen to your arguments any longer I will stab myself.”
“Fuck you too, Damian!” Tim calls back but it’s reluctantly fond. Damian doesn’t turn back but he does flip Tim off.
“Okay,” Dick interrupts the conversation before it turns into an argument, “Duke and Cass have already wandered off, they said something about blankets. Tim, I have a safehouse around the block, you can borrow one of my jackets but go with Steph.”
Tim grins and grabs Stephanie’s hand before running off, Dick yells after him, “Wait! You need my keys!”
“No, I don’t!”
Dick narrows his eyes at his brother, who disappears into the crowd of people. Jason makes an amused grunt which has Dick spinning around to him, “How does he even know where my safehouse is?”
“Don’t ask me,” Jason shrugs, “He’s a little stalker. But…all of your safehouses are under the name Richard Dickson.”
Roy makes a face, “You suck at this secret identity shit.”
The sound of Christmas carols hum in the streets faintly, a band is playing songs in the center of the market. He breathes in and hears the laughter of children running through the snow and the metallic clang of a carnival game bell then cheering—someone won a prize.
“You’re one to–” Dick pauses and takes a breath, “I’m staying behind to keep an eye on Bruce and Damian, they need someone to even out their grumpy-ness.”
Roy glances behind Dick to see Bruce talking happily with one of the old ladies who’s selling Christmas cookies. Damian is standing beside him, hand clinging to his dads jacket. Roy doesn’t think they look all that grumpy but he isn’t all that willing to test that out either.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Dick says to Jason with a frown. Jason grins,
“There’s little you wouldn’t do.”
Dick makes a disgruntled noise, walking away to Bruce and Damian but Roy still hears him complaining, “Seriously, why do I even try with this family.”
Roy looks around and comes to the realization that it's only him and Jason who remain. Jason turns around to stare at Roy, the grin still plastered on his face and Roy is barely able to stop himself from saying something stupid like, ‘I like your smile’.
“Guess we’re stuck together, Harper. Try to keep up.” Jason slaps Roy’s shoulder and pushes him into the crowd of people, Roy tries to ignore the warmth of his hand on Roy's shoulder.
Jason drags Roy across the market, stopping at one of the Christmas booths that sell sweaters. Roy grimaces at them, one even has lights. Jason pulls out one of the sweaters, holding it up to Roy who rolls his eyes.
It's a bat logo, “Of course.”
“What? Something wrong with the Bat?” Jason leers, the young woman running the booth looks up and glares at Roy, like a warning he should answer this question carefully. Roy can’t help his lips quirking into a smile,
“Nah, he’s much better than the Arrow if you ask me.” The young woman nods her head solemnly and Jason barks out a laugh.
Jason puts the sweater back and continues to stare at the merchandise, “Maybe I should get one of these for Damian.”
“I think he might kill you.” Roy comments, staring at one of the sweaters trying to interpret if it's a christmas tree or reindeer. It shouldn’t be this hard to tell, right?
“He’s obsessed with Batman, yknow.” Jason replies, Roy glances back at him and Jason has an amused glint in his eyes.
“Really? I’ve always thought he was more of a Superman fan.” Roy says, innocently.
“No! Well…” Jason pauses slightly, “more Superboy 2.0, he’s a big fan of the remake.”
Roy can’t help his snort, Jason gives the vendor a smile, pulls him out of the booth and makes his way down the market. Roy glances back up at Jason, “So Damian and Superboy numero dos, any other crushes I should know about?”
Jason ponders the question, “Well, Tim definitely had the hots for the original Superboy.”
“What's with the Gothamites and the Supers’, is it an enemies to lovers sort of thing?” Roy murmurs, leaning closer.
“Maybe.” Jason shrugs playfully, “It’s an open secret. Haven’t you heard the rumors about Brucie Wayne’s escapades? Viki published about 3 articles on a possible threeway going on between him, Batman and Superman.”
Roy pauses, “Bruce and Batman?”
“Yep!” Jason pop’s the ‘p’, “It's complicated, or so Bruce says, on and off again all the time.”
Roy can’t seem to help the laughter that escapes him. Near the market’s center, an open ice rink sparkles underneath the strings of lights. Couples skate hand-in-hand, while kids stumble and laugh, their breaths crystalizing in the chilly air. Jason casually suggests they try skating later but Roy mutters something about not wanting to break his neck.
Roy spots a booth selling holiday snow globes, each containing a model of Gotham landmarks. Roy debates getting one with the Wayne Tower and sending it to Ollie. He eyes the ones with other landmarks—Crime Alley, Robinson Park, Gotham Cathedral, even an Arkham Asylum.
“Nothing says ‘Merry Christmas’ like a miniature Arkham.” Jason mutters dryly when he spots it, Roy rolls his eyes and pushes the snow globe into Jason’s face.
“I was thinking about getting this for Ollie,” Roy smiles, “What kind of vibes would that give off.”
“‘I like Bruce Wayne more than I like you, Merry Christmas’” Jason shares his thoughts, it's enough for Roy to pull out his wallet and hand over the vendor his money. He takes back the bag and Jason pushes Roy out the booth and back out into the streets.
Across the way there is a fake Santa who’s sitting on a sleigh taking pictures with kids, nearby a GCPD patrol car idles and its officers sit as they watch over the crowd.
“There’s a rumor that the Santa over there might actually be Penguin in disguise.” Jason remarks idly, Roy makes an aborted noise. The Santa laughs jollily, a loud ‘ho-ho-ho’ ringing across the street. Roy gives Santa an odd look before staring up at Jason who shrugs, “That’s the rumors, I wouldn’t know.”
Roy snorts but looks around as they walk, Jason’s body radiates heat and the hum of laughter, chattering families and excited children fills the air. Vendors shout to attract customers. The air smells like a blend of spiced cider, chestnuts, and fresh snow—covering up the usual smell of sewage and filth.
Roy can’t help but be surprised, it's rare to see Gotham looking so lively, “Is this even the same city? Where’s all the evil and darkness?”
“Even Gotham’s rogues take a break for the holidays…Mostly.” Jason’s eyes flick over the shops,
“So, you Gothamites are actually capable of having fun? I always thought that the brooding was a full-time gig.” Roy turns his head and Jason’s eyes lock onto Roy’s. Roy’s heart skips a beat, his mouth suddenly feels full of cotton.
“I guess for 7 days out of the 365 we’re not all that bad,” Jason agree’s lightly,
“No, not you’re not.” Roy breathes as his eyes scan Jason’s face, he has a scar on the edge of his jaw that curves. He's close enough to where they’re inches apart and Roy can feel Jason's every breath on his cheek. He’s slightly pleased to note that Jason and him are the same height but suddenly Roy’s not too sure he can play off the flush of his cheeks on the cold.
“You keep looking at me like that, Harper,” Jason murmurs, “and I might start charging you.”
“You guys know you're in public, right?” A voice calls and Jason grunts, looking over Roy’s shoulder to where the voice came from.
“Don’t you have anything better to do with your life, baby bird?” Roy turns his head over to see Tim staring at them with a quirked brow.
“Baby bird?” Roy finds his lips curling up into a smile.
Tim flushes and crosses his arms as if trying to hide. Jason laughs but takes a step away from Roy who mourns the loss.
“He’s always been doomed to be the smallest out of all of us,” Jason hums, Tim rolls his eyes but his lips are set into a small pout.
“Damian’s shorter.” Tim mutters,
“Damian’s only fourteen.” Jason ruffles his little brother's hair, Tim doesn’t bother trying to bat it away.
“Fourteen and only an inch shorter than Tim?” Roy marvels, “Shit, kid, you’re short.”
“Okay.” Tim glares, “I’m starting to feel a little targeted.”
Stephanie and Duke come out of a sea of bodies, joining the three of them. Stephanie has a large grin on her face, “Who let Bruce near the DIY ornament booth? That thing looks like it escaped from a horror movie.”
“Alfred’s going to put that on the tree.” Duke states in mild horror, “It’s going to ruin my whole Christmas.”
Roy laughs and glances at Jason who’s already looking at him, his expression fixed on Roy’s face. Roy feels the heat that dissipated earlier come back with an abrupt passion. He licks his lips and Jason’s eyes follow the movement. Roy turns away–barely stopping the urge to cool his face with the palms of his hands like a teenager.
Tim is already staring at him, “You good, Roy? You’re looking a little red.”
“Yeah,” Roy glares at him, “It’s just a little cold.”
“Dude, tell me about it.” Duke agrees, “I think my fingers are going numb.”
Jason startles Roy with a loud groan, “I told you to bring gloves. Actually, I warned all of you. Nobody ever fucking listens to me.”
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It's late, the Manor is an odd sort of quiet with everyone either asleep or locked away in their rooms. Roy finds it difficult to sleep, his schedule mixed up from his months spent abroad and nightmares—which come with the job–plaguing his mind. He leans into the couch, watching the cackling fire create dancing shadows along the walls of the living room.
“You’re up late.” Jason’s voice startles him, he’s leaning against the doorframe and staring at Roy with an expression he can’t quite read.
Roy shrugs, giving him a small smile, “So are you.”
Jason huffs and moves further into the room, plopping down next to Roy on the couch closer than necessary but he’s not complaining. Roy bites his lip and Jason gives him a knowing glance before staring at the fireplace. Roy glances up at the mantle, seeing photos of young children.
His eyes catch on a familiar face in one of them: a much younger Dick, grinning wildly as he swings from a chandelier that Roy recognizes now as from the foyer. His eyes slide over to another photo, Tim and Bruce are stretched out on the very same couch they’re sitting on now. Tim is asleep, his head resting on Bruce’s shoulder, while Bruce looks down at him with a rare, soft expression.
In the next, Stephanie and Cass are dressed in elegant gowns, smiling radiantly at the camera. Duke is in another, his focus locked on a piece of advanced-looking tech in his hands, his concentration so intense its almost intimidating. Then there’s one of Damian, laid across a bed with a cat nestled comfortably on his lap, looking utterly content.
Roy’s gaze continues to wander over the collection, pausing at a pair of photo’s of someone he doesn’t immediately recognize. Then it clicks, and he leans forward, pointing.
“Wait, is that you?”
Jason glances up to where Roy is pointing, his face flushes slightly.
“Yeah, that's me.” Jason grumbles, sounding almost embarrassed. Roy lean’s in, studying the images more closely. In one, Jason’s in a uniform and holding up a plaque with his grin wide and proud. The other is more recent, he’s in the kitchen, flour smudged across his cheek as he kneads dough.
“What’s the award for?” Roy questions, Jason looks back up and seems to be thinking it over. His lips twist as he scans through his memory.
“Some writing competition at Gotham Academy. I had submitted it for extra credit in my English class but I hadn’t really needed it—English was my best subject. I didn’t even tell Bruce, imagine his shock when we got a letter in the mail telling him I won.” Jason rolls his eyes,
“English, really?” Roy scrunches up his nose in distaste, “That was my worst subject, I never could sit still and read a book.”
Jason rolls his head over to look at Roy, “I was from Crime Alley with no educational background once-so-ever but my ma’ taught me to read when I was just a kid. The library was warm in the winter and cold in the summer and even though I couldn’t spend the night, no one minded when I spent the days there as long as I was actually reading.”
Roy nods, his expression softening, “I get that. I grew up on a reservation. My dad died saving the tribe’s chief in a fire, so the chief—Brave Bow—took me in after that. He was tough as hell, a real perfectionist, but he taught me everything I know about archery. It was the only thing I had back then, the only thing I was good at.”
Jason’s brows lift slightly, “Huh. I always thought Queen taught you.”
“He did,” Roy laughs under his breath, “but by the time he found me, I was already pretty damn good.”
Jason hums, leaning back into the couch and resting his arms along the top of it. He tilts his head to study Roy, the firelight dancing across his sharp features.
“You and Ollie still close?” Jason asks after a moment, his voice softer, as if he’s treading carefully. Maybe he is, Roy thinks, but he’s not all that offended. He still hesitates, his gaze dropping to his hands. He fiddles with the cuff of his sleeve before answering.
“We’ve had our ups and downs. He’s…he’s like family but sometimes family is complicated, you know?”
Jason snorts, a dry laugh slipping past his lips. “You’re sitting in front of the most complicated person in the most complicated family ever, Harper.”
“Fair point.” Roy huffs, “there’s a lot of complicated in our world. I’ve only heard the stories about you and Bruce.”
“We’re not exactly father and son of the year.” Jason agrees but he doesn’t delve in further, Roy gets it more than most. He knows how hard it is to reconcile with someone you once looked up to, someone who let you down in ways that leave lasting scars.
Roy looks up at the photos, Dick looked so much more happy back then. Roy can’t help but feel his heart ache. Jason follows his gaze and his lips twist into a frown. He sifts on the couch, his knee brushing against Roy’s as he leans forward, his elbows resting on his thighs.
“Do you ever miss it? The Titans, I mean.”
Roy tilts his head, considering the question.
“Sometimes,” He admits, “It’s hard not to. The late nights, the chaos, just a bunch of teenage sidekicks doing something that actually matters. But people grow, move on. It’s not the same as it used to be. They say once a Titan, always a Titan. I still see them, just not as often as I wish.”
Jason hums, his eyes flicking to the fire again and they glow an iridescent teal in the light, “Yeah. I get that.”
Roy studies him, noting the tension in Jason’s shoulders and the way his gaze keeps darting to the photo’s on the mantle.
“What about you?” He asks, “Do you miss it? Having a team?”
Jason snorts softly, “I never had a team, not like Dick, Tim or even Damian. I was never much of a team player. Didn’t exactly grow up learning how to rely on people. Closet thing I ever had was Bruce.”
Roy nods slowly, not pushing. Jason’s words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken history. He doesn’t know the details, but he can feel the weight of them like a storm lingering just out of sight.
“You’ve got a good family, though.” Roy murmurs, gesturing toward the photos, “Complicated, sure, but…they seem like they care.”
Jason’s lips twitch, somewhere between a smirk and a griamace, “Care? Yeah, they care in their own way but that doesn’t mean they make it easy to care back.”
“Tell me about it.” He pauses, “But for what it’s worth, you’re wanted here. Dick talks about you all the time and Tim looks at you like you hung the damn moon.”
Jason looks at him, his expression unreadable for a long moment before he finally leans back. His thigh rests firmly against Roy’s own now, he can feel the warmth radiating off him and it makes Roy swallow thickly.
“Yeah, maybe.” Jason says, his voice softer, “Guess I’m still figuring that part out.”
Roy doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he lets the quiet stretch between them and the firelight fill the space. After a moment he says, “When I was younger, I used to think belonging was somewhere…automatic. Like, if people liked you, it just happened. Turns out, it’s something you have to work at. Doesn’t come easy for everyone.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” Jason glances at him, something coming to life in his eyes.
“But it’s worth it. Finding people who get you, even if it’s messy.” Roy smiles faintly, he would know.
Jason doesn’t say anything, but he shifts closer just enough for Roy to notice. His eyes flicker to Roy’s lips before they shoot back up to Roy’s eyes and Jason steals his breath away. They sit there or a while, neither of them feeling the need to fill the quiet. The fire burns lower, casting long shadows across the room. Eventually, Jason speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re not so bad, Harper.”
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The snowstorm has barely started to ease when Dick drags the entire group outside, grinning like an absolute madman. Bruce look’s forlorn, but Roy is just tired. Jason, arms crossed, stands back on the porch, muttering under his breath about how ridiculous it is to play in the snow. Roy isn’t much better, still exhausted from the late night talk he had with Jason, reluctantly shuffling into his boots.
“You seriously want to do this?” Jason drawls, eyeing the thick, white blanket covering the yard, “You’re all nuts.”
“It’s a Christmas Eve tradition!” Dick declares, spinning in place and throwing his arms wide, “Now, lets split into teams. The losers get to shovel the driveway after.”
He looks at Jason has he makes the challenge. Roy grins as Jason shoots Dick a look that clearly says, ‘I’m not going down without a fight’.
“You’re on, Grayson.” Jason cracks his knuckles, “You and your team are going down.”
Damian, who has been eyeing the snow with a mix of suspicion and disdain, immediately joins Dick’s team, “I don’t understand why you find joy in such a primitive activity, but if it results in Todd’s failure, I will participate.”
Dick pumps his fists into the air. Stephanie, who’s been hovering nearby claps her hands together with a mischeivous smile, “I’m on team Jason. I’m winning this shit, and Jason has the better aim!”
She grabs Tim by the arms and drags him into the fray. Tim looks more tired than Roy, and he contemplates asking but decides against it.
“You’ll regret this,” Tim mutters, glaring at every single one of them but already looking as if he’s preparing for some type of strategy, “This is going to be a mess.”
Roy sides with Dick, attempting to even out the playing fields. Cass and Bruce stay behind, quiet as ever and denying their attempts to persuade them onto each others teams.
“It’ll be unfair,” Bruce says with a smirk, “we’re just too good.
Cass nods solemnly in agreement. Dick rolls his eyes but claps his hands together, “Alright! Teams are set! Let the battle begin.”
Jason and Dick are immediately set to work, rolling snowballs with military precision. Tim throws the first snowball of the battle but it lands a little to softly, almost like a joke.
“Really, Tim?” Roy mocks playfully, “That’s your big move?”
“It’s early! I’m just getting warmed up,” Tim hollars back, but before anyone can blink, he’s forming another one. Meanwhile, Stephanie, who apparently, isn’t the most skilled at snowball fights has more fun hurling snow in Damian’s general vicinity and wildly missing.
Jason is already on the offensive, flinging snowballs with sharp accuracy. Stephanie was right, he does have good aim but it’s not as good as Roy’s who’s been practicing and perfecting his aim since childhood.
Damian is already throwing snowballs like he has a personal vendetta against Tim, screeching when one of Tim’s lands lamley into his face, “You will regret underestimating me!”
Tim curses loudly when Damian begins to charge. Dick just laughs and ducks in time to avoid another hit from Jason, edging his brothers on, “Bring it on, little wing! You’re gonna have to do better than that.”
Roy snickers from the sidelines but snowball hits him in the chest and Roy see’s that Tim and Stephanie have successfully distracted Dick and Damian from Jason.
“You know, I could just end this right now.” He picks up a massive snowfall, one large enough too be a bolder by anyone else’s snowball standard. Jason eyes him warily and shuffles back, “Don’t get too cocky now, Harper.”
Roy can’t seem to stop himself, throwing it and watching as Jason stands in shock as it hits him right in the face. The snow drops onto the ground and Roy bursts out into laughter that only seems to get Jason more competitive.
The snowball fight rapidly escalates. Team Dick retaliate with corridinated hits–Damian and Dick teaming up to hit Stephanie and Tim with perfectly timed throws. Meanwhile, Cass and Bruce watch from the sidelines, narrowly avoiding any stray snowballs.
Roy’s having a blast, despite his earlier exhaustion, there’s something undeniably exhilarating about hurling snowballs with perfect accuracy at the Bats. He’s been grinning for the past fifteen minutes, even if the snow has begun to soak through his coat.
“Don’t think this is over,” Jason calls out, ducking behind the snowbank, “We still have a chance!’
Roy’s grin widens and he glances over at Dick who gives him a salute, “Yeah, you think so?”
And just as Jason peeks over the stop of the snowbank, Roy throws the final shot–a snowball so perfectly aimed that it hits Jason square in the face and knocks him off his feet. He crumps backward into the snow, blinking in shock as his face is covered in snow.
“That’s how it's done, Roy!” Dick cheers, slapping Roy on the back in excitement. Jason groans, laying in the snow with flakes clinging to his hair, “Alright, you win.”
Damian ever the stoic, crosses his arms as he stands victorious while Stephanie cries out in dismay, “I forgot he was an archer! Tim, I can’t believe I forgot he was an archer!”
“Come on,” Roy teases, “You had fun, didn’t you? I mean, it’s all about good sportsmanship.”
“Yeah, yeah. You and Dick aren’t the one’s shoveling the driveway.” Jason says but he’s got a small smile on his face despite it, “Let’s get inside, we need to dry off before we get hypothermia.”
But as they all start trudging back to the door, there’s a moment of almost too innocent quiet before Stephanie throws a snowball at Tim, who yells in outrage. Cass, who had only been watching comes out of nowhere and tags Dick.
Jason pauses by the door with Roy, laughing under his breath and Roy turns to look at him. His cheeks are flushed by the cold, but he’s got a soft smile on his face as he watches Stephanie and Tim wrestle in the snow.
Roy’s arm lifts without his permission, his hand brushing over Jason’s cheek before he even realizes what he’s doing and he murmurs, “Gorgeous.”
Jason looks just as surprised, his eyes widening and his cheeks burning an even more vibrant red. Roy snatches his hand back like it was burns before rushing inside the door. He kicks off his boots, the snow melting and dripping onto the floor.
“Mr. Harper, would you like some coco?” Alfred looks over and holds out a mug which Roy takes happily.
The door opens and slams again, Roy doesn’t turn around, to afraid of what he’ll see. Instead, he focuses on the warmth that radiates from the mug. Roy groans as he takes a sip, “You’re a saint, Alfred.”
There’s a strangled noise from behind him, and Roy has to glance back. Jason is standing by the door, debautched and wearing an even more flushed expression. Roy swallows and turns back to Alfred who’s looking at them knowing and vaguly amused.
“Yes, of course, Mr.Harper. Master Jason, if you would help get everyone inside, I have much more hot chocolate to spare.”
“Huh–? Oh yeah, you got it, Alfie.” Jason shakes himself out of his stupor, turning back to the door and swinging it back open before yelling, “Alfred made coco!”
Roy hears more muffled laughter and hollering before everyone comes stampeding back into the manor, drenched in snow and water. Alfred takes Roys mug, looking slightly resigned as the floors become soaked and muddy. Everyone is flushed and slightly wet from the fight, no doubt shivering with the chill that permeates the air.
“Next time,” Dick pants, grinning from ear to ear, “we’re doing this with snowball launchers.”
“Next time, we’re going sledding.” Jason shoots back, already heading to the couch but his shoulder brushes Roy’s as he passes him, “Snowball fights are for amateurs.”
Roy catches him, slinging an arm around his shoulder and leaning closer. His breath brushes against Jason’s cheek, he notices the blood rush to Jason’s ear, “You’re just mad because you lost.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t expect me to shovel that driveway anytime soon. That thing is big as hell.” Jason rolls his eyes but doesn’t fight he smile tugging at hs lips.
“Of course,” Roy agrees, “we wouldn’t want to tire you out so early in the morning.”
Jason eyes him with a grin, but before Roy can say anything else, Dick makes a coughing noise. Roy turns around and is thankful that it’s only Dick who’s paying attention but Roy still slides his hand off Jason’s shoulders. Dick is staring at Roy with apprehension and pursed lips.
“Dick, buddie,” Roy shuffles, “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Dick says loftly, “Alfred wanted me to tell you that he finished breakfast and that the coco will get cold if you don’t get any soon.”
“Aweseome, I’m starving.” Jason rubs his hands together and turns around from where he was making his way to the living room and starts to the dining room. He pauses when neither Dick nor Roy move stuck in a face off, “Guys, you coming?”
“Yeah, we’ll be there in a second, Little Wing. I just need to talk to Roy.” Jason furrows his brows but shrugs.
“Whatever, it's Alfreds frittata you’re missing out on.”
Roy watches as Jason leaves, almost wanting to call out and make him stay but he doesn't. The room is silent and Roy feels sweat on his brow. Dick crosses his arms, he stares at Roy with a leveled expression that Roy can’t make out.
“I told you to back off,” Dick says slowly, “I told you no fawning over my little brother, didn’t I?”
Roy nods quickly, “No–Yep, you did that.”
“And yet, I’m getting the vibe that my warning was ignored.”
“It was duly noted.” Roy smiles, or at least tries too but it comes out more like a grimace. The air is thick and he feels a lot more warm than he should.
“Roy.”
“Dick?”
“You flirting with my brother. My little brother.” Dick states, his voice rising slightly and eyebrows drawn together in what Roy can only describe as growing disbelief.
“In all fairness, so would anyone else.” Roy shoots back, trying to inject some charm into his response. He knows it's not going to work but it’s worth a shot.
Dick narrows his eyes, “You’re trying to get into my little brother’s pants.”
“I’m not trying o–” Roy starts, but Dick doesn’t let him finish.
“Oh my god, you’re trying to fuck my little brother.”
Roy feels the blood drain from his face, then rush back up all at once, making him slightly dizzy and as red as his hair. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he manages to stammer, “I’m not trying to sleep with Jason, Dick!”
Dick doesn’t believe him for a second, his tone is sharp as he speaks and his blue eyes narrow as if daring Roy to lie again,“You’re not?”
“Well…no. I mean, I might be—” Roy avoids his gaze, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. He wonders what type of wood it is?
Dick lets out a sound so horrified, its somewhere between a whimper and a groan, he clutches his head in exasperation.
“—but I’m not only trying to sleep with him.”
“Only?!” Dick repeats, his voice pitching up, “What does that even mean? What are you saying right now?!”
Roy sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. He knew this conversation would happen eventually but he hadn’t imagined it would go down like this. He should have known, looking back on it, the warning Dick gave was pretty clear, “Look, Dick, Jason’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad?!” Dick screeches, sounding like a broken record.
“No, I mean it!” Roy says, holding up his hands as if to placate him, “He’s wicked funny, he’s got really pretty eyes–”
“Oh my god.”
“–he adores his little brothers–”
“You’re seriously doing this.”
“–and he’s smart. Really smart. And yeah, okay, he’s unbelievably hot–”
“Stop!” Dick throw’s his hands up as if to physically block Roy’s words from reaching his ears, “I don’t want to hear this!”
But Roy isn’t backing down, “You don’t get it, Dick. Jason’s…he’s Jason. And I know I’ve only known him for a few days and he’s got this whole tough-guy thing going on but underneath it he’s–”
“Don’t say sweet. If you say sweet, I’m throwing a punch.” Dick warns, pointing a finger at him.
“–really good at not being as much of an ass as you think he is.” Roy grins, dodging the maybe not so metaphorical landmine.
Dick stares at him, his expression frozen between disbelief and existential dread. For a moment, he’s so still and quiet that Roy wonders if he’s about to spontaneously combust. And then, Dick whispers, almost as if he’s just realizing it himself, “You’re trying to date my brother.”
Roy pauses. He doesn’t know how to answer that, so he doesn’t–at least not right away. Finally, in the thick, stunned silence between them, he leans forward and says softly, “Yeah. I think I might be.”
The words drop like stone into the air between them. Dick blinks once, then twice.
“No. No, no, no, no. You don’t get to just–just date Jason!” He gestures wildly as if that should be obvious, “You’re my friend, my best friend, Roy. He’s my little brother!”
“That doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean I can’t care about him,” Roy counters, his voice raising too, “You can’t just keep people out of his life because he’s your little brother, that’s not how the world works!”
Dick opens his mouth, then closes it. He looks like he’s trying to come up with a response but is somehow short-circuiting. Finally, he manages, “Do you know what you’re getting into?”
“Not really,” Roy says, shrugging, “But I like Jason, I’ve talked to him and I knows he’s got some baggage but so do I. And I think we could be good for each other.”
“You think.” Dick still looks unconvinced, but there’s less heat in his tone now.
“I know.” Roy says firmly, he meets Dick’s eyes, “I’m not messing around, Dick. I’m not looking for a one night stand. I’m not going to hurt him, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m worried about both of you hurting each other,” Dick admits, his voices softer now. He rubs his temples like this is giving him the worlds worst headache, “Jason’s…complicated. He’s got an explosive temper and a sharp tongue he uses to hurt, you do too.”
“But that doesn’t mean we can’t make it work.”
“The fights will be horrible.” Dick murmurs, he stares at Roy for a long moment, studying him. He sighs, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…If you screw this up, I’m going to kill you.”
Roy smirks, “That’s fair.”
“And if he screws this up, I’m still going to kill you, because I’ll need someone to blame.”
“Got it.”
Dick shakes his head, still looking vaguely horrified and mutters something under his breath about never letting Roy near his family again. But he turns around, and Roy catches the faint, grudging smile tugging at his lips, “Come on, asshole. I’m starving.”
“Yeah, yeah….” Roy pauses, “Thanks, Dick.”
“Don’t thank me,” Dick snaps as Roy falls in step with him, “You’re taking over shoveling the driveway after this. Tell Jason that.”
Roy huffs an amused laugh, bumping his shoulder against Dick’s and narrowly avoiding the noogie that Dick tries to tackle him with.
──────────────────
The Manor is alive with holiday energy. Somewhere upstairs, Stephanie and Dick’s laughter echoes through the halls, Damian bickers with Tim about who has more presents and the faint sounds of a Christmas playlist Alfred’s curated hums in the background of the chaos.
Down in the Batcave, Roy and Duke are huddled over a workbench, surrounded by wires, circuit boards and tools. A half-assembled gadget–some kind of sleek, tech-heavy Christmas gift for Tim–sits between them. Jason’s gone, the rest of the Bat’s set up a system so atleast one person goes out at night to patrol–if only for a few hours.
“This should work now,” Duke says, leaning back and wiping his hands on a rag, “But if it fries, you’re the one explaining it to him.”
Roy laughs, shaking his head as he holds up a soldering iron, “If it fries, I’m blaming you. You’re the genius here, kid, I’m just the assistant.”
Duke snorts, about to retort, when the sound of heavy boots echoes in the cave. Both of them turn to see Jason coming from the garage, the hood of his jacket pulled low and his hands stuffed in his pockets. His tactical half-mask hangs around his neck, and his walk is slightly uneven.
“Hey, youre back early.” Duke calls out, straightening out.
Roy grins, “You catch all the bad guys tonight, or is Gotham in the holiday spirit?”
Jason doesn’t answer immediately. His jaw is tight and the shadows under his eyes look darker. Roy squints, his teasing grin fading as Jason gets closer.
“You okay, man?” Roy asks, stepping around the work bench.
Jason scoffs, brushing past him and the warmth of his body sends tingles down Roy’s spine, “Fine.”
“I’m, uh, gonna go grab some snacks. Roy, you got this, right?” Duke, who’s been watching the exchange carefully, quietly excuses himself.
“Sure,” Roy agrees absently, already focused on Jason. He watches as Jason sits heavily on the bench near the Batcomputer, his hand curling around his ribs like he’s trying to hide something.
Roy moves closer, crossing his arms, “You’re limping.”
“Noticed, did you?” Jason glares but there’s no real heat behind it.
“What happened?” Roy asks, his voice low.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
Jason rolls his eyes and leans back, wincing slightly at the motion, “I ran into some of Black Masks idiots, that asshole never does know when to stop. It’s handled.”
“You look like shit.” Roy says, unconviced. Jason doesn’t answer, ripping off his mask and leaning forward, unclipping his boots with a wince. It’s a small motion, but it’s enough to make Roy step closer, his brows furrowed.
“Take the jacket off,” Roy commands,
“Why?”
“Because I want to see how bad it is.” Jason huffs, clearly annoyed but doesn’t argue. He shrugs off his leather jacket and Roy’s eyes immediagetly drop to the dark stain blooming across Jason’s side.
“You’re bleeding.” Roy says, astonished and slightly hysterical.
“It’s a scratch.” Jason mutters, waving him off. Roy eyes the wound and then Jason,
“A scratch?” Roy crosses the distance between them, grabbing the hem of Jason’s shirt and pulling it up before he can protest. Underneath, a deep red gash runs along Jason’s ribs, already crusted with blood but still oozing at the edges, “Jason.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t mean you get to ignore everything else.” Roy snaps, grabbing a med-kit from a nearby shelf, “Sit still.”
Jason grumbles something under his breath but doesn’t move as Roy kneels beside him, pulling out gauze and antiseptic. The cave is quiet except for the sound of Roy working. Jason watches him, his gaze lingering on the way Roy’s hands move with steady precision–his eyes burn Roy’s skin.
“You don’t have to do this,” Jason says, after a moment, his voice quiet as if trying not to disturb the odd peace.
Roy glances up, but Jason’s has his eyes already locked onto Roy’s–teal eyes alight and slightly dilated, Roy looks back down, “Do what?”
“This.” Jason gestures vaguely to the space between them, “Play nurse. Act like you care for me more than just as Dick’s little brother.”
Roy freezes for half a second, anger flaring briefly but he shoves it down and snorts, shaking his head.
“You really are an idiot, you know that?” He finishes wrapping the bandage around Jason’s ribs, tying it off with a tug that’s just shy of gentle.
Jason tenses, Roy’s eyes flicker to his lips which are pressed into a thin line. He wonders what it would be like to press his own against them, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Roy straightens, grabbing the extra gauze and dirtied antiseptic and tossing them in the trash.
“Don’t I?” Roy asks, his voice low and deliberate. He leans in, close enough that jason can feel the heat radiating off him, close enough to see the anger–and the worry–flicker in his eyes.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Roy continues, his tone softening just enough to make Jason shift, “You’re more than just Dick’s kid brother, stop acting like I don’t want to be here.”
Jason doesn’t say anything, his eyes darting away like he’s trying to escape the weight of Roy’s words. For a moment, all Roy hears is the steady hum of the cave and the distant clicking of the computer.
“Harper.” Jason’s voice is low, almost a growl but not gritty enough–it’s low and breathy. Roy’s own breath hitches,
“Roy.” Roy interjects, Jason looks up at him confused, “My name is Roy.”
Roy follows the bob of Jason’s adams apple with his eyes, his hands moving up without his permission like they had earlier that morning. It brushes against Jason’s throat, tracing the vein up until his hand settles against his jaw, “Say it, Jason.”
“Uh,” Duke clears his throat loudly from his place at the stairs, his mouth his slightly ajar and he has a plate of cookies in his hand, “hate to interrupt whatever this is, but I have cookies…and company.”
Roy’s eyes follow behind him, Tim stands behind Duke on the stairs with his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.
“What’s going on down here?” Tim asks, his tone suspicous but mostly amused. Roy backs up so quickly he almost trips, instead he catches himself on the desk.
“Nothing.” Jason says, standing up and rolling his shoulders–wincing as he stretches his wound, “Roy was just patching me up.”
Tim’s gaze shifts between the two fo them, lingering on the med kit and the way Jason holds his newly bandaged ribs. A slow smirk spreads across his face, “Right, nothing.”
Roy glares at him while Duke snorts, Jason moves toward the stairs and he pauses for a second, snatching a cookie from Duke’s plate and glancing back at Roy, “You coming?”
“Yeah.” Roy swallows, following Jason to the stairs and shoulder checking a giggling Tim and Duke–who only laugh harder.
“Ignore them.” Jason mutters as they walk up the steps, “They’re just being assholes.”
Roy wonders if he should tell Jason that he is well aware, that Tim has been doing this since Roy’s arrived at the manor. Not that he minds, the teasing doesn’t bother him all that much. So, he stays quiet instead, ignoring the adrenaline still pumping in his veins and the way his heart thumps so loudly he can hear it in his ears.
He ignores the way that his skin twitches as his arm brushes Jason’s, the way he wants to slam the other against a wall and…God, Roy has never had this much difficulty ignoring his problems. It’s usually a lot earlier than this.
──────────────────
Christmas Day at the Wayne Manor is nothing short of chaotic. The tree stands tall in the living room, it’s twinkling lights casting a warm glow over the room. The morning started with Damian dragging everyone out of bed at an ungodly hour for presents. Bruce insisting on taking turns unwrapping gifts and hovering over them, snatching the wrapping before it dropped to the floor. Alfred served hot coco, and Tim snuck photos of everyone in their pajamas.
By the time afternoon rolls around, everyone is scattered—Dick and Damian are on the couch watching a Christmas movie, Bruce is in the kitchen with Alfred, Duke is fast asleep on the living room floor and Roy is trying his best to dodge whatever plan Tim and Dick have been whispering about all day.
Jason, for his part, has been completely normal. Stephanie and Cass had even managed to stick a Santa hat on him some part throughout the day–he chased them around for it but Roy noticed his sharp edges softening as he watched the others.
By evening, the house was settled into a peaceful lull. Dinner was loud and messy with Damian complaining about hte lack of veginatrain options and Duke stealing rolls off Dick’s plate when he wasn’t looking. Now, the mansion is quieter, the distant cackle of a fire and Alfred’s gentle humming from the kitchen filling the air.
Roy is in one of the smaller sitting rooms, leaning against the window after getting off the phone with Oliver and Dinah. Jason shows up moments later, his hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets.
“What are you doing up here?” Jason asks, Roy glances up at him.
“Escaping your brothers,” Roy says, Jason’s lips twitch, “They’ve been acting weird all day. Pretty sure they’re plotting something, would they be so cruel to do so on Christmas?”
“Yes.” Jason deadpans, “They’re always up to something.”
Before Roy can answer, the sound of muffled giggles drift through the door, followed by the unmistakable click of a lock sliding into place. Jason’s head snaps toward the door, “What the hell?”
“Uh-oh” Roy mutters, already moving to test the handle. It doesn’t budge.
“Tim!” Jason shouts, his voice carrying through the thick wood, “Open the damn door!”
“No can do!” Tim calls back, laughter evident in his voice.
“You two enjoy yourselves!” Dick adds, his voice full of amusement. Roy might kill him,
“I’m gonna kill him.” Jason groans, turning back to Roy with a look that could melt steel. Roy raises an eyebrow, his gaze drifting upward–and freezes. Hanging from the ceiling, right above them, is a mistletoe.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Roy mutters, dragging his hand down his face. He wonders distantly who’s idea this was, it has Tim’s all over it with the way he’s known since the beginning.
Jason follows his gaze, his expression darkening when he spots the offending decor, “Those little bastards.”
“Should’ve known they’d pull something like this.” Roy says, though there’s a hint of amusement he can’t hide.
Jason takes a step back, his arms crossing tighter over his chest, “We’re not doing this.”
“It’s just a kiss, Jason.” Roy says lightly, as if his heart isn’t beating in his throat at the chance, “Not like they’re going to unlock the door until we do.”
Jason glares at him, but there’s a flicker of something else beneath his frustration—something uncertain, something vulnerable, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“A little.” Roy admits with a small grin, full of the boyish charm that most can’t resist.
Jason huffs out a breath, glancing at the door like he’s considering breaking it down. But then his eyes dart back to Roy, lingering for a second too long.
“You’re serious.” Jason mutters, stepping closer, “You want to kiss me?”
Roy’s grin softens, “I want more than to just kiss you, I want more than just a fling. I would’ve thought I had made that obvious by now, haven’t I?”
Jason doesn’t answer but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he closes the distance even more with one deliberate step and his hands slide out of his hoodie pockets. The room feels still, the tension crackling like electricity.
“You gonna keep talking or are we getting this over with?” Jason asks, his voice is a growl. Roy rolls his eyes,
“Such a romanti–” Roy is cut off by Jason pulling him into close, a hand wrapping around his hip and a firm pressure on his lips. His breath stops, his heart might stop too. Then it’s gone.
Jason’s hand is like a brand against his body, hot and fiery–it burns like nothing else. His mouth fans against Roy’s lips, warm and breathy. Roy opens his eyes and Jason’s lock onto Roy’s, searching, waiting. The intensity of Jason’s gaze pulls him forward before he can think better of it. His hand reaches out and grazes Jason’s jaw, he can feel the shiver that racks through Jason’s body from the gentle touch.
Jason’s lips part, his breathing is ragged, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans in, slow and deliberate, the tension so thick it’s almost painful. Then, in on swift motion, Roy’s mouth crashes against his. The kiss is raw, much more desperate than Jason’s, an explosion of pent-up desire that Roy has felt since he first laid eyes on him.
Jason’s hands find the back of Roys neck, and Roy presses against Jason and deepens the kiss as if he were trying to consume him. The heat of their closeness seeping into ever fiber. Their lips move in a frenzied rhythm, a perfect clash between desperation and passion.
The room around them seems to fade, the anger at the original prank, all disappears. There's only the rush of blood and the pounding of hearts. Roy’s hands reach Jason’s hips, grip so tight it might leave bruises. Jason’s back thumps as Roy slowly backs them into the door. Jason breaks the kiss, his breath coming in heavy pants as he leans his head against the door.
“How long have you been wanting to do that?” Jason whispers,
Roy hums and brushes a kiss against Jason’s jaw, trailing down his throat and he mumurs, “A while.”
Jason’s hands tug on his hair, lifting his head back up and he slams their lips back together. Roy groans softly into Jason’s mouth, and Jason’s hands tighten, pulling at the locks of Roy’s hair. A rush of dizzying arousal shoots up Roy’s spine and he looses himself in the pleasure of Jason’s mouth. Every second stretching into eternity, each kiss deeper and more desperate than the last.
Roy slides his hands beneath Jason’s shirt, his hands coming into contact with warm, tan skin. It feels like static against his fingertips, like something he shouldn’t be allowed to touch. Roy’s hands linger on every rib, feeling the edges and searching for the scars he’s finally allowed to touch.
“Roy.” Jason gasps, Roy grunts and kisses his way back down Jason’s jaw. He nips at his ear, causing Jason’s hands to lock and nails too dig into Roy’s shoulder. He groans, slipping a knee in between Jason’s legs and sucking at his skin. Jason makes a noise, moaning into Roy’s ear and almost subconsciously grinds against Roy’s knee.
“Yeah,” Roy grins against Jason’s skin, “Go on, baby. Give yourself whatever you need.”
Jason’s eyes snap open and a flush burns brightly at his words, and something like excitement flashes in his eyes that causes Roy’s heart to burn before—
The door unlocks with a click, thrown wide open as they flail to the floor. Jason lands first, a loud groan as his head thumps against the hardwood floor.
“Please tell me you two were not just about to have sex.” Dick cries out, standing above the two of them.
“I don’t think you want them to answer that.” Tim drawls lazily from behind Dick, a large grin on his face.
“Roy! Get the hell off of him!” Dick snaps, tackling Roy off Jason and rolling them onto the floor. Jason grunts and rubs the back of his head,
“Roy, huh?” Tim asks, staring at his older brother. Jason shrugs, a small smile twisting at his lips.
“He’s not so bad.” Jason says, there’s a pause then a loud crash as Roy and Dick wrestle into one of Alfred’s favorite vases.
“Oh shit.” Tim whispers in horror, scattering before Alfred can appear from the shadows.
“Merry fucking Christmas.” Jason growls.