#jaydick ao3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-name-of-the-rose · 18 days

Text

When Jason and Dick first fall into bed, it’s all haste and urgency and fire fueled by Dick narrowly escaping alive after a botched undercover operation.

Also, it’s not on a bed, but looking back, it was never going to be.

Jason’s on comms that night, in the Batcave only because Bruce’s away on League business while the others are… wherever they are. He honestly doesn’t care. It’s only Jason and Dick, working on something that Dick’s planned and put together, and sure, Dick resorted to asking for his help because it was his last option, probably, but it still makes him want to prove that he’s not always going lethal—not because he regrets that, never that, but because he just wants to prove them wrong. There’s maybe this… hope that if they just for once look at him, they’ll actually see him.

He’s not really holding his breath on that, but who knows, stranger shit has happened.

When Dick arrives right after having been made and having his cover compromised, there’s no fucking time to even consider going upstairs—not that Jason would have accepted, either way. One minute he’s shouting at Dick and condemning his recklessness, trying not to think how much that’s a Bruce move and whatever the fuck that means, and the next Dick’s all over him. His first instinct is thinking that they’re going to fight, which, fine, he likes that, but what happens is much, much sweeter.

Instead of punches or kicks, what he gets are Dick’s lips on his, a point of contact that sets him alight. It’s insane, almost surreal, and it takes his brain a few seconds to catch up.

Once a bat, always a bat—for better or worse, in Jason’s case, or in all of theirs, to be quite honest—and they don’t do shit like this, without planning ten steps ahead and scheming. Which means that either golden boy’s been thinking about this for a while, or that he’s not exactly in control now. Both ideas are exciting for different reasons, but he’s betting on the latter.

Jason gets it, is the thing. He gets wanting to feel something just to reassure himself that he’s alive. He gets that, and besides, Dick is the one person other than Bruce whose attention Jason went out of his way to get—not to the same extent, but still. So that’s why he doesn’t even think of doing anything else other than corresponding when Dick’s mouth finds his, when Dick’s hands reach beneath his t-shirt, when they stray lower.

It’s infuriating how goddamn good Dick is at this. A few touches of his hands and expertly applied bites that are also half-kisses have Jason singing in no time, spreading his legs and bucking against the other man without any sort of control to a point that should be embarrassing.

When Lucifer fell, he dragged with him a third of the angels. That’s the hysterical thought that passes through his mind when he feels Dick’s hard cock pressing against his thigh, the evidence that the whole thing is turning Dick on as much as Jason—and well, it certainly should, since it is Dick who initiated it.

The metaphor may not be completely adequate here, and Jason definitely doesn’t give a fuck about the proportions, because there’s only one of Bruce’s birdies that he cares about, but when Dick kisses him until they’re both breathless, presses him against the rough wall, the thrill of thinking that he’s corrupting Bruce’s golden boy is a delicious, dark thing.

In reality, he knows that Dick’s not a fucking saint, by anyone’s standards, but this is the person to whom he used to be compared and found lacking even before he died and came back a thing that maybe shouldn’t be—he’s not dumb to think that they would want him dead, per se, but when given the choice of never having him come back, Jason knows what they would all pick.

(It’s okay, he’d make the same choice.)

This is the first of the angels, the one they’re all shaped after, one way or another and whether or not they want to. And to know that he’s all hot for the one who was cast away, well, it does things to Jason. It has him dropping to his knees, looking up through his lashes and licking his lips with clear intent. This is something that Jason has never dreamed he could have, even in his wildest fantasies of a better and kinder world, and he wants to keep it, to reach beneath Dick’s ribs and make a place for himself there, drag Dick to hell with him, even if he knows the other man doesn’t deserve that, just so he’ll be less alone.

And Jason understands another thing about Dick: he’s ripe for it, really. For falling. He might not be a control freak at the level Bruce is, but he’s still reeling from having his own op botched, from having the carefully controlled environment and situation going haywire, and Jason knows how to use that to his favor, how to give Dick what he needs while taking a little bit for himself. Demons trade in souls, and, by the end of it, he’ll have Dick’s.

Fair is fair, right?

#dickjay #jaydick #jason todd #dick grayson #i am once again playing too much into the religious symbolism #leaving this here because i dont think i'll finish it to post to ao3 #anyway love the dickjay flavor of jason thinking 'hehe im corrupting the first robin'#this man is already corrupted jason!!#my stuff

37 notes · View notes

marsupialmenace · 3 months

Note

dickjay with the prompt “I don’t know how to let myself be loved like this.”

Thank you for the prompt anon! I'm sorry it's taken me a hot minute (like, super duper sorry,) to get to it. I hope you enjoy!

Normal

Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson Pairing: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd Rating: Mature Tags: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Hypervigilance, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Established Relationship, (but only Dick seems to realize that), Implied Sexual Content Word count: 3,033 Summary:

Jason had been trying for the past fifteen minutes, maybe more, to pay attention. But it was the middle of the day, in one of Dick’s low-security Gotham safehouses, and a car backfired a street over, and the hum from the fridge, and the buzz of the oven warming their dinner, was driving Jason crazy. Everything, and every sound, was building. Louder with each passing moment. Jason was waiting for a shoe to drop, for the moment to end, for the tension to snap and leave him ruined. Jason looked over to the window as someone yelled outside before it faded away followed by giggles. Just kids, laughing, playing. Safe.

Jason hasn't ever experienced normality, he's never been safe enough to accept love. His thing with Dick is casual, low commitment, and shouldn't be causing him to panic. He panics anyway.

Available to read on AO3 (it is locked so you will need an account)

Or keep reading below! <3

Jason’s leg jittered, the pleather couch squeaking with every movement. The heel of his foot tapped on the floor, sending jolts up his leg to his knee. His muscles ached as he rolled his ankle, before he pushed up onto his toes to try and bounce silently.

Dick was talking, filling empty air, completely unaware of Jason’s own distraction.

Everything, and every sound, was building. Louder with each passing moment. Jason was waiting for a shoe to drop, for the moment to end, for the tension to snap and leave him ruined.

Jason looked over to the window as someone yelled outside before it faded away followed by giggles. Just kids, laughing, playing.

Safe.

It was safe, in the middle of the day, in Gotham.

He unclenched his hands and placed them flat on his legs. Counted the seconds until the sound of numbers in his mind drowned out the sound of the light fixture overhead.

The couch squeaked, dipped, and Dick was warm against his side.

“-and Babs said…Jay?”

Jason hummed, still looking at the window – a simple latch, the security was dreadful – and blinked. He forced himself to look back at Dick and smiled as honestly as he could manage.

It was more of a smirk, with more teeth than intended. Jason wet his lips before he spoke, “Barbie said my name? Seems like it doesn’t really fit in with the story.”

Dick opened his mouth but made an aborted noise, and when his eyes met Jason’s, he quickly snapped his mouth shut. Dick frowned, his entire face scrunching in concern, big bushy eyebrows meeting at the bridge of his nose.

“Are you okay?” Dick asked, his eyes flickering as he searched Jason’s face.

Jason resisted the urge to bat Dick’s nose, to dissolve the tension, redirect and brush Dick off.

It would make Dick sulk for hours if he did though, all the way to bed – tense silences, half eaten dinner, and a sad jerk in the shower – because Jason had promised to stay the night.

“Let’s do this normally, you and me,” Dick had asked one night, tucking himself back into his Nightwing suit. The moon shone from behind Dick’s head, the flyaway strands of his hair glowing, looking vaguely like a saint.

Ethereal and beautiful, Jason had wanted to giggle and tell Dick so, giddy the with post-sex haze.

That bright feeling in the air had made Jason agree; feeling so soft and vulnerable, he refused to second-guess Dick’s motives. “Sure, ‘Wing. It’s a date.”

Dick had laughed and danced his way across the rooftop. “I’ll hold you to that.”

And Dick had.

No vigilantism, no family, no ‘world-ending pressing engagements.’

Just Jason and Dick, in Dick’s shitty low-security Gotham safehouse, where the noise was the only thing Jason could focus on, and it made him want to scratch his skin off.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jason said, rolling his shoulders and leaning further back onto the couch. He spread his legs, knocking his knee against Dick’s, and leaned his head back to look up at the light. It flickered as it hummed. “Your light needs a new bulb.”

The weight on the couch shifted. The warmth of Dick’s leg against Jason’s disappeared.

“I see. I’ll get right on that.” Dick didn’t sound happy, and the silence continued as Jason watched the flickering light, trying not to overthink what was to come.

Normally.

Jason sighed. Dug his toes into the rug underfoot and breathed.

The sound of an alarm filled the air, shrill, piercing, and it broke the tension. Jason took a deep breath, feeling his chest ease as he did. Dick appeared over him, a smile back on his face. Fake, but real enough that Jason smiled back.

“Dinner’s done,” Dick said, his hands coming to rest on either side of Jason’s face as he looked down. The light flickered behind his head; his face marred in shadow.

Jason leaned his head into Dick’s hand and tried to still his fluttering – panicking – heart. “I’ll serve up.”

---

“God, Jay, I love you.”

Those words haunted Jason as he lay on his side, staring out the window. Despite being in Gotham, it was silent in the apartment. There were no shots down the street, no people screaming as they ran, and no low hum of traffic. Dick’s shitty low-security safehouse was in a good part of Gotham.

It meant there was nothing to drown out Dick’s words, repeating in his mind.

“Jay, I love you.”

Dick looked beautiful as he said it, holding Jason close in his embrace, eyes shiny with tears. His face and chest sleek with sweat, as he fucked Jason, took him apart slowly with adoration and worship.

Whispering how good Jason was, how perfect he was, how Jason was his and only his.

Jason had trembled, and cried, and screamed, and came so hard on Dick’s cock he’d nearly passed out. Only soothed by soft kisses and the slow drag over his prostate. Until finally, as Jason shuddered and went boneless, Dick left trails of kisses up Jason’s neck and said, “God, Jay, I love you.”

Jason bit into his hand to stop himself from screaming.

Dick was asleep at his back, curled around Jason protectively, having talked himself to sleep. Jason lay awake, eyes closed. He repeated those words over and over, feeling Dick's breath against him, holding him, trusting him.

Jason’s chest felt tight.

He dug his fingers into his palms to resist the need to move, to force himself to accept the embrace and not squirm.

Dick’s arms around him felt like a cage, the lips at his neck a searing brand, and Jason could barely bite down the panicked gasp as Dick shifted. One of his legs hooked over Jason’s thighs, pulling him closer to him.

It should be relaxing.

It was anything but.

“I love you.”

Jason had only ever heard those words from people who hurt him. His mom, his dad, Bruce.

The shadows danced, threatening; each cloud that covered the moon looked like a Bat in the night.

Fuck, Jason needed out.

He shuddered, taking in silent gasping breaths, the pain in his chest nearly overwhelming.

Dick kissed his back, and Jason resisted the knee-jerk reaction to punch him.

“Are you okay?” Dick’s sleep-husky voice filled the air, one hand trailing down Jason’s chest, tickling against his skin.

“Let me up,” Jason said. His voice sounded wrecked, like he’d been crying, thick with mucus, and cracking straight down the middle. Dick was quick to move, alert immediately in a way only a vigilante could manage, pulling his leg off and his arms back into his space.

Then, all Dick’s warmth was gone.

Jason jumped out of bed, shaking off the blanket as he did, ignoring the shiver that went through his body. He backed into the corner of the room, eyes on Dick, the window, and the door, and slid down to the floor.

Jason curled his arms around his knees, watching Dick as he slowly sat up in the bed, watching Jason like he was a frightened animal.

By the way his chest was aching, and his heart was thumping; maybe he was.

“What’s going on?” Dick asked. He spoke slowly, eyes drifting between Jason, the window, and then back to Jason. “Did something happen?”

Jason shook his head.

Dick went to move, but Jason kicked out, his leg slapping loudly on the wooden floor. Dick fell back onto the bed, crossed legs, and tilted his head to the side. Watching.

A few moments passed as Jason breathed, the cold of the room and the feeling of a wall at his back reminding him of the quick rooftop fucks he was used to with Nightwing.

“What do you need me to do?”

Jason slammed his head back against the wall; the sound of Dick’s voice, so soft and caring, made him ache with need almost as much as it made him panic. “Just talk,” Jason demanded. “What did Barbie say earlier? In that story you were telling before dinner.”

Dick spoke, his new words drowning out the old. Jason couldn’t focus, catching the odd word, but it made the room brighter, louder, easier.

Jason watched as Dick added hand movements, animated on the bed but not moving closer. He moved on from the story about Barbara, to a story about Tim, to a story about the Titans, until the light in the room grew as the sun rose, and Dick’s voice was hoarse.

Jason hid his face in his arms, resting against his knees.

God, they were such a mess.

And Dick was still trying to act as if this was normal. As if the quiet electric hum of an apartment instead of neighbors screaming was normal, as if cooked dinner at seven instead of fast food chucked back mid-patrol was normal, as if lovemaking instead of a quick fuck in a dark alleyway was normal.

As if they could be normal.

Jason was the mess.

Jason groaned, clenching his toes and curling his feet up, trying to will some warmth back into them. Jason looked up to watch Dick staring up at the ceiling as he regaled some new story. Dick’s throat had to be hurting, yet he was still going.

It made something settle, uncomfortably, at the back of Jason’s mind.

“You love me, Dick,” Jason said, awed and quiet, in the middle of Dick complaining about Bruce. “You said it, you showed it, you mean it.”

Dick jolted; his mouth snapping shut audibly as if he hadn’t expected Jason to speak. He looked down at Jason and, instead of speaking, hummed. It was husky and low but an invitation to keep going, nonetheless.

“I-” Jason felt frustration well up inside him because it wasn’t fair that other people got to be normal, and have normal, and feel normal. “How do you do it?”

Dick opened his mouth, but Jason suddenly felt terrified of the answer.

“Don’t- don’t actually,” Jason said, rushed with one breath. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Jason.”

“Dick,” Jason snapped back, his nerves fraying at the ends. He’d stayed the night; he’d fulfilled his promise. Now, he could clear out of Dick’s shitty apartment, go back to the safety of Gotham City proper and forget all about this.

“Jay.” Dick was closer now, sitting with his legs off the bed, leaning down to look at Jason. Jason tried not to shrink away, tried to take up space, but Dick’s face was too open. Concern, empathy, and understanding was written all over it. “Come up here.”

Jason shook his head. His ass hurt from sitting on the cold wood, his back ached from being curled up, and he was shivering every few seconds, but despite that, he still said, “I’m good, thanks.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “Stubborn asshole,” he muttered.

Jason almost said, but you love me anyway. It was an easy quip, something Jason always said when they would banter, but he couldn’t force the words past his lips. Instead, wide-eyed, he stared at Dick.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Dick said with a sigh when it became clear Jason was tongue-tied.

Jason stretched his legs out, letting them drop flat on the floor. “I don’t want you to say anything, forget it.”

Dick raised his eyebrows, “Forget you having a panic attack on the bedroom floor as well?”

Jason flinched, dipping his eyes away from looking at Dick. He hated those words, ‘panic attack,’ being so overwhelmed by feelings that he lost control of his reactions. “Especially forget that,” he said, clearing his throat.

Time passed in silence. Jason stared at the floor, memorizing the pattern of the wood, counting the rings around knots. He put his hands on his thighs, digging his fingers in. His skin jumped from the cold feeling, and he grit his teeth. He didn’t want to break the silence.

“Is it the L-word?” Dick asked, finally, and so quietly Jason almost missed it. Jason snapped up to look at him, Dick’s eyes were wide and confused. “Because you don’t have to say it back, Jay.”

Jason shook his head. “No.”

“Is it something else? I thought, well, we aren’t exactly casual, so I thought-”

Not casual, Jason didn’t really know how to parse that, and he wasn’t sure it was even true. Dick certainly looked like he believed it.

Jason coughed, and scrunched his toes again, digging his nails into his thighs to stop himself from curling up again. “No, it’s not. It’s-” Jason cut off as his chest tightened again, vision dimming, and he looked away from Dick’s stupidly earnest face to stare at the ceiling instead. “Everything else. The domestic, the date, the living room. It’s your shitty fucking security, but somehow you still feeling safe. It’s the normal.”

Jason bit his lip and looked down his nose to watch for Dick’s reaction.

Dick’s face went blank in one smooth motion. “You’re scared of normal.”

Jason growled in frustration, hating how judgmental Dick managed to sound in just four words, and of course Dick wouldn’t get it, when this was all his fault anyway. “I’m not used to normal, asshole,” Jason grunted. The thought of his childhood, of his death, of his supposed family, was heavy in his mind. “Normal isn’t safe,” Jason added. The unspoken, for me, hung in the air.

Jason’s pulse thundered in his ears, waiting for everything to click. Dick seemed to take this in, and his blank face turned into one of sympathy and understanding.

Jason hated that as much as he’d hated the judgment.

“It could be,” Dick said gently, back to soothing a frightened animal. “Normal and-” Dick paused to wet his lips, “love.”

Jason scoffed, letting his head fall back against the wall, and he stared at Dick in disbelief. “Love is normal, apparently.” Jason could feel himself getting agitated, his body pulling in air too quickly and blinking too rapidly, but it was distant and unimportant. “Love has been the reason I’ve bled, and died, and bled again. Love is explosions, and pain, and betrayal,” Jason spat, his voice getting louder. “Normal is-” Jason cut himself off with a gasping breath, his eyes were wet and his sight blurry. Everything ached, and hurt, and he-

He really wanted a hug. From Dick.

Fucking hell.

“I don’t know how to let myself be loved like this.”

The confession hurt and punched all the breath out of his chest. An admission that he was broken in this way, that he could never have normal, spoken aloud, when it should have been obvious.

Jason held his breath and forced himself to hold Dick’s gaze. Dick was hard to read, somehow managing to hide his true emotions despite appearing like an open book. Dick’s lips pressed into a tight line.

“I see.”

An alarm went off, shrill and piercing. And just like twelve hours prior, Jason tensed every muscle so as not to jump too high or give himself away. Dick jumped to grab his phone, swiping the alarm off, and held it up for Jason to see.

“Wakey wakey,” Dick said with a tired laugh.

Guilt swirled in the back of Jason’s mind, smothering little specks of panic with anger, because Dick sounded exhausted. A tight smile and bags under his eyes, and his voice too scratchy for early morning.

Jason had caused that with his ‘issues’ when he should have just left.

Dick sighed. “I don’t know how to make you accept love, Jason.”

Jason swallowed, ready for the inevitable. Rejection. Or worse, a suggestion to fix Jason.

Dick dropped down to the floor, landing between Jason’s legs. Hesitantly, and holding Jason’s gaze, he put a hand on Jason’s ankle. The warmth from just his fingers spread up Jason’s leg and made him shiver. Dick’s loose grip, and the feeling of skin against skin, didn’t make Jason feel trapped like earlier.

Jason bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something stupid and forced himself to stay back against the wall, to stop himself from jumping forward to pull Dick into what would probably be the last hug he’d get before Dick kicked him out.

“But,” Dick started, and squeezed Jason’s ankle, “we can start making a new normal.” Dick ran his hands up Jason’s calves, and back down again. The motion soothed the spike of panic in Jason’s mind, helped his body ease. “One that doesn’t have you panicking in a corner, watching the door for three hours straight just from me telling you that I love you.”

Dick’s eyes bore into Jason’s and Jason shuddered under the intensity. The words sounded so genuine, and it sent a confusing rush of heat and panic through Jason. Dick patted Jason’s calf and reached out to take one of Jason’s hands in his own. Jason let his fingers go lax as Dick pulled his fingers from his skin.

“And I do, you know,” Dick added, lacing their fingers together, “love you, Jason.”

Jason knew that Dick could be bluffing. So many people had made that same promise. Of love, and normality, while tearing him apart in all the worst ways. Yet, when Dick said it, Jason wanted it to be true.

Maybe Jason would regret it, and maybe Dick would end up cold and distant and back to alley-way fucks within a week, but Jason wanted. To at least see what Dick’s version of normal could be in his – honestly, Dick, you’re a millionaire – incredibly shitty low-security Gotham safehouse.

Dick squeezed his hand again, a soft questioning hum at the back of his throat.

Jason coughed, turning his head away from Dick to hide the blush, his face burning. He dug his toe into Dick’s bare thigh and squeezed his hand in return.

“Yeah, you too,” Jason replied.

#dickjay #jaydick #dick grayson #jason todd #my writing #my ao3 fics #tumblr prompt

15 notes · View notes