FIC: Covivant - Two Solitudes [DCU; Dick Grayson, Jason Todd]
Title: Covivant - Two Solitudes
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: R
Spoilers: Takes place post-Countdown/Final Crisis, but pre-Battle for the Cowl; and diverges from canon before that mess happens.
Warnings: language, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd pairing
Prompt: written for the 11_reasons challenge: 72 - Reversed Hermit (need to change, loneliness)
Word Count: 1436
Summary: He takes the time to listen.
Word of the Day: exoteric, adjective:
1. Suitable for or communicated to the general public.
2. Not belonging, limited, or pertaining to the inner or select circle, as of disciples or intimates.
3. Popular; simple; commonplace.
4. Pertaining to the outside; exterior; external.
Covivant - Two Solitudes
"Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other."
--Rainer Maria Rilke
"I thought 'the cape-and-cowl game is for suckers'... at least the way you see it, Jason."
Jason turns, looking over his shoulder at Nightwing. "You see a mask on my face, Dickie?" He points to his own face as he asks the question.
Nightwing scoffs. "Mask or not, I want to know why you're hanging around rooftops in my city -- "
"Now you're trying to sound like him," Jason barks out a short, bitter laugh, "that's pretty sad." He shrugs, and mutters to himself, "And this was just stupid. I'm out of here; keep your damn city."
"You aren't leaving," Nightwing grabs Jason's upper arm, "until you answer my question."
Jason twists sharply to break Nightwing's hold and lashes out with his fist, "Go to hell!" Nightwing releases him and dodges the blow, but makes no move to retaliate. This clearly throws Jason for a loop, but after half a second, he recovers from the surprise and falls into a more centered fighting stance, blue eyes warily focused on Nightwing.
Nightwing backs off a little more, but remains close enough that he'll be able to catch Jason if he bolts. "I mean it, Jason. Tell me what you're doing in Gotham."
"Just checking up on you, is all," Jason replies, face schooled into showing no expression, still not dropping his guard.
"Why?" Nightwing asks, baffled.
Jason laughs for longer this time, but the sound is no less bitter. "I'm going to preface this with 'ask Donna if you don't believe me', because I know you won't..." Jason sighs and drops out of his ready stance. He circles a bit closer, slowly, and Nightwing fights the impulse to attack before Jason has a chance to. Jason's had several chances and taken none of them.
"I'm listening," Nightwing snaps, keeping Jason in view by turning in place as he circles.
"I just... I know it's not..." Jason sighs again -- this time it's a sound of frustration -- and rakes a hand through his hair before he takes a step back, wrapping an arm around himself. "There was... I saw you on another world. You died and Kyle wouldn't let me save you... and Dick, I don't need any more nightmares than I've already got."
He looks up, meeting Nightwing's gaze. Nightwing is struck by the raw pain in Jason's eyes. 'If anyone else looked at me like that,' he thinks, 'I'd want to help them without reservation. If it was anyone but Jason... and knowing that, in spite of what he's done to me in the past, makes me feel like crap.'
"Well..." he finally says, "you can see that I'm fine."
"Yeah. I'll be going now..." Jason tries to smile, or smirk, but it looks nothing like either; his expression falls back into stony-eyed blankness soon enough. "If you've got no objection?"
"Patrol's been slow tonight," Nightwing admits. Jason raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. "We could go for a drink, once I change into some civvies." Nightwing favors Jason with a wry half-smile, "After all, Little Wing, you still owe me that beer."
-----
"You're probably the last person I'd expect to be a beer snob," Dick observes, thirty minutes later when they're sitting in a booth at a brewery/restaurant. They'd met at Jason's hotel and caught a cab; Dick still wasn't entirely sure he wanted Jason knowing where his new apartment was.
"...And leave off the lemon wedge, for god's sake," Jason instructs their server. As the man scribbles that on the order pad, Jason turns back to Dick and says sarcastically, "Some of us did a little more with our world travels than just what Bruce would approve of."
"And for you, sir?" the Heartland Brewery server asks Dick.
"Uh, what do you suggest?" Dick looks to Jason, who rolls his eyes.
"Bring him a glass of Empire Premium." Jason rests both elbows on the table as the server leaves. "Don't worry, Dick, it's a pils -- what that Miller swill you like purports to be."
"Oh, okay... wait." Dick leans forward and hisses angrily, "How do you know what kind of beer I keep in my fridge?"
"Calm down," Jason must have been feeling better, because this time he manages a smirk. "I don't know where your new place is. But the last time I was in New York..."
Dick covered his eyes with one hand. "I get it, I get it. Can we not talk about the last time you were in New York?"
Jason tilts his head for a moment, considering. "Sure. What do you want to talk about?"
"I heard the bare-bones version from Donna," Dick glances around; this late at night, there aren't many other customers, but he speaks softer anyway, "-- that you and she and Kyle were working with one of the Monitors, trying to find Ray Palmer. Tell me more about what you said earlier... about the other world that's giving you nightmares."
"More nightmares," Jason corrects, then shakes his head as he laughs, "Boy, you get right to the point, doncha, Dick?"
Dick merely shrugs in response.
Jason is saved from having to answer right away when their server comes by with the beers. Jason holds up the menu on his side of the table, silently asking if Dick wants to order any food, and Dick shakes his head. Jason tosses the menus onto the server's tray and says, "Just keep 'em coming, man."
"Thanks," Dick says. Jason raises his glass momentarily in acknowledgment.
"All right, so... to start with, vampires are real. At least in that world they are. And we figured that out when Donna found that world's Barbara... dying. With a wooden stake in her heart." Jason pauses, stares at Dick with those hooded, hurting eyes again, and his voice -- which has been getting softer and softer -- drops a little lower. "And we found out... it was you that did it."
Dick blinks. Jason is watching him, waiting for a reaction, or maybe waiting for him to say something... anything. His gaze drops to the glass clutched in his hand, and he raises it to his lips, draining it quick. He grates out, "Go on..."
----
"Mmph!" is about all the protest Jason manages to get out as he's pushed up against Dick's apartment door and kissed soundly. It would be a total lie to say he isn't enjoying this, of course, but even with plenty of alcohol clouding his brain, Jason's certain this is a bad idea. Then Dick starts to nibble on his lower lip, and Jason feels his knees go liquid. He can't quite recall exactly why this is bad, suddenly.
"Keys..." Dick mumbles, as he pulls away and starts searching his pockets. He has to be drunker than Jason; the search is taking far too long.
Jason huffs out a breath, a sound half-amused, half exasperated, and hooks his fingers into the belt loops on Dick's pants. He drags Dick closer and sticks a hand in one of his front pockets, coming up with the keyring in a few seconds. Dick favors him with a bright smile -- it has the same effect on him as always, a hot rush of want that centers in his belly before moving lower -- and snags the keys out of his hand... on the second try.
"Dammit, Dick... you're... we're so drunk..." Jason giggles.
"Is that a... problem?" Dick asks, squinting as he holds the keyring up to the hall light, two keys held up by his thumb. He seems to be having a hard time remembering which of them opens up his front door.
'Thank god he's got a doorman,' Jason thinks. Dick finally selects one of the keys and tries it in the lock. "Yeah, if you make... dumb decisions... when you're wasted," Jason replies, watching as -- miraculously -- the door clicks open on Dick's first try.
"Make plenty dumb ones sober," Dick argues. As the door swings open, Jason is robbed of the support he was leaning against, and reaches out to grab Dick around the shoulders. They stagger a bit, but manage to make it into the apartment. Dick kicks the door shut, which completely overbalances them -- there's a moment of vertigo, and then they're both on the floor.
Jason finds himself genuinely laughing again -- how fucked up is he, that this is the most he can remember laughing in years? -- and manages to choke out, "You know... drunk sex... it sounds hot, but this... is ridiculous."
"Yeah... let's just... stay..." Dick snuggles against Jason's chest.
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: R
Spoilers: Takes place post-Countdown/Final Crisis, but pre-Battle for the Cowl; and diverges from canon before that mess happens.
Warnings: language, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd pairing
Prompt: written for the 11_reasons challenge: 72 - Reversed Hermit (need to change, loneliness)
Word Count: 1436
Summary: He takes the time to listen.
Word of the Day: exoteric, adjective:
1. Suitable for or communicated to the general public.
2. Not belonging, limited, or pertaining to the inner or select circle, as of disciples or intimates.
3. Popular; simple; commonplace.
4. Pertaining to the outside; exterior; external.
Covivant - Two Solitudes
"Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other."
--Rainer Maria Rilke
"I thought 'the cape-and-cowl game is for suckers'... at least the way you see it, Jason."
Jason turns, looking over his shoulder at Nightwing. "You see a mask on my face, Dickie?" He points to his own face as he asks the question.
Nightwing scoffs. "Mask or not, I want to know why you're hanging around rooftops in my city -- "
"Now you're trying to sound like him," Jason barks out a short, bitter laugh, "that's pretty sad." He shrugs, and mutters to himself, "And this was just stupid. I'm out of here; keep your damn city."
"You aren't leaving," Nightwing grabs Jason's upper arm, "until you answer my question."
Jason twists sharply to break Nightwing's hold and lashes out with his fist, "Go to hell!" Nightwing releases him and dodges the blow, but makes no move to retaliate. This clearly throws Jason for a loop, but after half a second, he recovers from the surprise and falls into a more centered fighting stance, blue eyes warily focused on Nightwing.
Nightwing backs off a little more, but remains close enough that he'll be able to catch Jason if he bolts. "I mean it, Jason. Tell me what you're doing in Gotham."
"Just checking up on you, is all," Jason replies, face schooled into showing no expression, still not dropping his guard.
"Why?" Nightwing asks, baffled.
Jason laughs for longer this time, but the sound is no less bitter. "I'm going to preface this with 'ask Donna if you don't believe me', because I know you won't..." Jason sighs and drops out of his ready stance. He circles a bit closer, slowly, and Nightwing fights the impulse to attack before Jason has a chance to. Jason's had several chances and taken none of them.
"I'm listening," Nightwing snaps, keeping Jason in view by turning in place as he circles.
"I just... I know it's not..." Jason sighs again -- this time it's a sound of frustration -- and rakes a hand through his hair before he takes a step back, wrapping an arm around himself. "There was... I saw you on another world. You died and Kyle wouldn't let me save you... and Dick, I don't need any more nightmares than I've already got."
He looks up, meeting Nightwing's gaze. Nightwing is struck by the raw pain in Jason's eyes. 'If anyone else looked at me like that,' he thinks, 'I'd want to help them without reservation. If it was anyone but Jason... and knowing that, in spite of what he's done to me in the past, makes me feel like crap.'
"Well..." he finally says, "you can see that I'm fine."
"Yeah. I'll be going now..." Jason tries to smile, or smirk, but it looks nothing like either; his expression falls back into stony-eyed blankness soon enough. "If you've got no objection?"
"Patrol's been slow tonight," Nightwing admits. Jason raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. "We could go for a drink, once I change into some civvies." Nightwing favors Jason with a wry half-smile, "After all, Little Wing, you still owe me that beer."
-----
"You're probably the last person I'd expect to be a beer snob," Dick observes, thirty minutes later when they're sitting in a booth at a brewery/restaurant. They'd met at Jason's hotel and caught a cab; Dick still wasn't entirely sure he wanted Jason knowing where his new apartment was.
"...And leave off the lemon wedge, for god's sake," Jason instructs their server. As the man scribbles that on the order pad, Jason turns back to Dick and says sarcastically, "Some of us did a little more with our world travels than just what Bruce would approve of."
"And for you, sir?" the Heartland Brewery server asks Dick.
"Uh, what do you suggest?" Dick looks to Jason, who rolls his eyes.
"Bring him a glass of Empire Premium." Jason rests both elbows on the table as the server leaves. "Don't worry, Dick, it's a pils -- what that Miller swill you like purports to be."
"Oh, okay... wait." Dick leans forward and hisses angrily, "How do you know what kind of beer I keep in my fridge?"
"Calm down," Jason must have been feeling better, because this time he manages a smirk. "I don't know where your new place is. But the last time I was in New York..."
Dick covered his eyes with one hand. "I get it, I get it. Can we not talk about the last time you were in New York?"
Jason tilts his head for a moment, considering. "Sure. What do you want to talk about?"
"I heard the bare-bones version from Donna," Dick glances around; this late at night, there aren't many other customers, but he speaks softer anyway, "-- that you and she and Kyle were working with one of the Monitors, trying to find Ray Palmer. Tell me more about what you said earlier... about the other world that's giving you nightmares."
"More nightmares," Jason corrects, then shakes his head as he laughs, "Boy, you get right to the point, doncha, Dick?"
Dick merely shrugs in response.
Jason is saved from having to answer right away when their server comes by with the beers. Jason holds up the menu on his side of the table, silently asking if Dick wants to order any food, and Dick shakes his head. Jason tosses the menus onto the server's tray and says, "Just keep 'em coming, man."
"Thanks," Dick says. Jason raises his glass momentarily in acknowledgment.
"All right, so... to start with, vampires are real. At least in that world they are. And we figured that out when Donna found that world's Barbara... dying. With a wooden stake in her heart." Jason pauses, stares at Dick with those hooded, hurting eyes again, and his voice -- which has been getting softer and softer -- drops a little lower. "And we found out... it was you that did it."
Dick blinks. Jason is watching him, waiting for a reaction, or maybe waiting for him to say something... anything. His gaze drops to the glass clutched in his hand, and he raises it to his lips, draining it quick. He grates out, "Go on..."
----
"Mmph!" is about all the protest Jason manages to get out as he's pushed up against Dick's apartment door and kissed soundly. It would be a total lie to say he isn't enjoying this, of course, but even with plenty of alcohol clouding his brain, Jason's certain this is a bad idea. Then Dick starts to nibble on his lower lip, and Jason feels his knees go liquid. He can't quite recall exactly why this is bad, suddenly.
"Keys..." Dick mumbles, as he pulls away and starts searching his pockets. He has to be drunker than Jason; the search is taking far too long.
Jason huffs out a breath, a sound half-amused, half exasperated, and hooks his fingers into the belt loops on Dick's pants. He drags Dick closer and sticks a hand in one of his front pockets, coming up with the keyring in a few seconds. Dick favors him with a bright smile -- it has the same effect on him as always, a hot rush of want that centers in his belly before moving lower -- and snags the keys out of his hand... on the second try.
"Dammit, Dick... you're... we're so drunk..." Jason giggles.
"Is that a... problem?" Dick asks, squinting as he holds the keyring up to the hall light, two keys held up by his thumb. He seems to be having a hard time remembering which of them opens up his front door.
'Thank god he's got a doorman,' Jason thinks. Dick finally selects one of the keys and tries it in the lock. "Yeah, if you make... dumb decisions... when you're wasted," Jason replies, watching as -- miraculously -- the door clicks open on Dick's first try.
"Make plenty dumb ones sober," Dick argues. As the door swings open, Jason is robbed of the support he was leaning against, and reaches out to grab Dick around the shoulders. They stagger a bit, but manage to make it into the apartment. Dick kicks the door shut, which completely overbalances them -- there's a moment of vertigo, and then they're both on the floor.
Jason finds himself genuinely laughing again -- how fucked up is he, that this is the most he can remember laughing in years? -- and manages to choke out, "You know... drunk sex... it sounds hot, but this... is ridiculous."
"Yeah... let's just... stay..." Dick snuggles against Jason's chest.