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Jason hated teenagers.
Okay, no, scratch that. Jason was terrified of the hormonal, trauma-infested mess that were the five teenagers currently sitting in the Watchtower’s briefing room.
Maybe all normal teenagers were like this, and Jason had just never been around any. You know—dying burned alive and all that kind of robs you of some developmental milestones.
Or maybe it was because those teenagers were supposed to be older than Jason himself, not a bunch of out-of-control kids who were, without a single shred of doubt, completely drunk.
“Hey!” yelled the teenage version of his older brother, holding up a canteen that had definitely contained alcohol. “You finished it, Aqualad!” he shouted, scowling, dragging his words with such a heavy accent that Jason could barely understand him.
And he’d seen Dick in worse conditions. Seriously, he’d seen him with brain trauma bad enough to nearly kill him—and he’d still been easier to understand than he was right now.
Jason could finally see why Dick always refused to drink.
Although, it was possible these five had been drinking in their own timeline and dragged the buzz all the way to the present after that stupid wizard’s spell that landed Jason in this mess in the first place.
Garth, who was tangled up with Donna on the couch, let go of her and grabbed a bottle resting on the table.
(Jason still had no idea where the hell they’d gotten vodka bottles, but he had a feeling Wally was involved.)
Garth took a swig, his Adam’s apple bobbing uncomfortably slow in Jason’s horrified line of sight. All Jason wanted to do was get out of there.
Instead, he had to watch Garth fill his cheeks and crawl toward Dick, who was lying on the floor between Roy’s legs.
One of Roy’s hands was buried deep in Dick’s hair, gripping and releasing lazily from time to time.
The other hand was holding what was definitely a roll of Mary Jane. He kept bringing it to Dick’s lips, letting him take a drag before passing it along to Wally.
Speaking of the devil—Wally was sprawled across Dick’s thighs, one hand wrapped around his leg and the other gripping Roy’s.
Garth dropped down over Wally, earning a stupid little grin and a snort. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Dick’s.
Jason went completely rigid, his brain struggling to process the scene before him. But that seemed impossible at the moment.
In fact, his brain had probably decided to take a last-minute vacation just to screw with him, leaving him helpless in the face of this insanity.
Maybe, if he was lucky, he was hallucinating from the Lazarus Pit again. He really hoped so. Fuck, he prayed that was it.
But of course, the universe hated him, and luck wasn’t on his side. Especially when his brain decided to fully reboot the second a drop of alcohol slid from the corner of his brother’s mouth to his friend’s.
“Was that enough?” Garth tilted his head, smiling in a way that definitely insulted something sacred.
Jason had always wanted to travel the world as a kid. Maybe it was time to revisit that dream.
Dick frowned, actually seeming to consider the question.
After a second, he looked up at Garth, sighed, and buried his fingers in the guy’s hair, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. Tongues and all.
Jason had always found outer space fascinating.
“It is for now,” murmured Dick—the Golden Boy, the Boy Wonder, the First Robin, the First Sidekick of them all, the guy with more field experience than half the League combined, the leader of the Titans, the leader of the Justice League, the freaking Nightwing!—against Garth’s lips.
Exploring other solar systems suddenly sounded extremely appealing.
“Hey, don’t have all the fun without me,” Roy drawled, voice sluggish but amused as hell, eyes half-lidded and enjoying the show.
Donna crawled across the couch, using Roy’s free thigh to steady herself before leaning in.
“Then come here,” she said, pressing her lips to his.
Was intergalactic travel possible without a team? Jason took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Perfect. The teenagers who were supposed to be adults were having a group exploration session in the Watchtower’s common room, and Jason was their babysitter. Totally fine. He could handle this.
“Hey, Walls, get over here,” said Garth, pulling away from Dick’s mouth.
Jason felt a twitch start in his eye that probably wouldn’t go away for days. He could handle this… right?
In a blink, Wally was behind Dick, wrapping his arms around him and slipping his hands under the Robin uniform, while Garth kissed his lower lip.
Dick let out a satisfied sigh, melting further into Wally’s embrace as he let them both take over.
“Fuck this. Wait for your damn parents!” Jason shouted, storming out of the room, stomach churning and his mental image of his brother shattering with every step.
He’d always known Dick’s teenage years had been tumultuous.
But he’d assumed that meant emotionally tumultuous—the kind of brooding, “I’m dark and alone” drama that only works when you’re secretly the human equivalent of a sunbeam surrounded by goddamn sunflowers.
It had never crossed his mind that Dick’s teenage years might have been as wild as a 2000s teen drama.
Behind him, Jason heard the sound of glass shattering and someone slurring, “Light another one!” followed by loud laughter.
Right. He definitely didn’t get paid enough for this. Those hormone-fueled disasters had parents—they could deal with them.
Jason was already planning to retire on some distant planet in another galaxy and never set foot on Earth again.