Dick hasn’t seen Roy in forever. The two have fallen out over the years as they’ve found their own places in the vigilante world, but Dick misses him! It’s been too long.
So, with a carton of Roy’s favorite Chinese takeout, a six pack of cheap, shitty beer, a box of cheaper, even shittier Valentine’s day chocolates that were on sale at the grocery store that Dick hopes Roy still splurges on, and a new Barbie for Lian, he approaches his door with anxiety practically radiating off of him.
He knocks on the door, but there’s no response.
Dick frowns in confusion. It’s a Thursday evening on a school night. Lian would usually be at ballet practice at this time until eight and Roy wouldn’t be out on patrol yet.
There’s a yelp from inside and a crash. A chill shoots down Dick’s spine.
Glad that he always carries around his retractable escrima sticks, he sets his bag on the ground and he holds his weapon in his palm tightly.
Dick rushes to the roof and scurries down the fire escapes to Roy’s apartment.
Grateful for his shitty window locks, he slips in through Lian’s bedroom and stalks quietly to the door.
There’s another crash, a loud thud, and a cry. Obvious signs of struggle.
Dick tiptoes to the door and peeks through the crack. Dick freezes.
Roy sits on the kitchen counter with his head tilted back and his eyes shut blissfully, lips parted, while a shirtless Jason — yes, that Jason, his little brother Jason — stands between his spread thighs and attacks his throat with his mouth, one hand braced against the counter and the other slipped down his—
“What?!” Dick cries, the words tumbling out before he can stop them.
The two men freeze. Their heads snap to the door, Jason already grabbing his gun.
“It’s me! Don’t shoot!” Dick exclaims. He pulls open the door which only makes them tense more, Jason’s face stony and annoyed and Roy’s face in a casual grin.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jason demands.
“What are you doing here?!” Dick replies, voice a high squeak.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Jason raises an eyebrow.
Dick ignores that statement and whips to face Roy. “Jason?!” he questions, voice filled with disbelief.
“Please don’t kill me,” Roy says.
“Jason,” Dick repeats, voice now a growl.
“I know,” Roy responds with a wince.
“What— when did—” Dick’s hands flail hysterically. “How long has this been going on?”
“Like a year?” Roy says meekly.
“A year?!” Dick screeches.
“We weren’t exactly talking,” Roy starts.
“Uh uh. Nope. I don’t want to hear it.” Dick’s eyes flicker to Jason whose chest is covered in hickies and back pink from scratches. Dick gags slightly. “I never needed to see this. Ever.”
“It’s not like I’m a kid anymore,” Jason says, arms crossed over his chest.
“But you’re still—!” Dick cuts himself off. “I know after everything… you might… you think we don’t care, but Jason,” Dick gives him a soft smile, “you’re always gonna be my little brother.”
Jason rolls his eyes. “Stop being sappy. It gives me hives.”
“And because you’re my little brother,” his eyes shift to Roy again. “Roy,” he says, voice clipped and sharp.
“Yes?” Roy replies, sinking slightly.
“May I speak with Roy alone, please?” Dick says, voice unnervingly calm, eyes not straying from Roy.
“Uh, fuck no?” Jason says. “We were kinda in the middle of something?”
“Sorry, Jay, but Dick, despite his name, is a major boner killer,” Roy says. “And I don’t think he’s gonna take no for an answer.”
“I can make him take no as an answer,” Jason says, knuckles cracking as he clenches his fists.
“Jay,” Roy says gently. “Just go. We obviously aren’t gonna be able to finish this tonight. Not when he’s so—” Roy gestures vaguely, but Jason seems to get what he means.
Jason, begrudgingly and very hesitantly, huffs an affirmation. “Fine. I’ll go.” He narrows his eyes and points at Dick. “I am gonna get back at you, Dickwad. Just you wait.” Jason slips his shirt back on and exits (surprisingly) through the front door.
“So…” Roy says awkwardly.
Dick gives him his sternest ‘big brother’ face. “Let’s just get straight to the point. I don’t care that my baby brother is a trained mass murderer with a body count higher than my SAT score. I know he can handle himself.” He walks closer, his teeth baring in a scowl. “But if you do anything to hurt him, I will come and personally rip your testicles out of your body with my bare hands. And that’s a promise.”
“Understood?” Dick asks, voice low.
Roy nods. “Crystal clear.”
Dick smiles, body loosening into his usual bouncy self. “Good!” He claps a hand to Roy’s shoulder with a gentle squeeze. “Now, I’ve got some Beijing Beef on Lo Mein, a pack of Bud Lite, an arrangement of milk chocolates, and…” He opens the door where (thankfully) his things still sit, “the new Asian Barbie.” Dick holds them up with a raised eyebrow. “So, what’d’ya say?”
Roy, relaxing slightly, grins. “Well, what’re we waiting for?”
“You got anything on your TV that isn’t Strawberry Shortcake or Peppa Pig?”
Roy taps his chin, pretending to think. “Can’t promise I do.”
“Well, guess we’ll just have to see.” Dick goes to sit on the couch but Roy suddenly shouts.
“Don’t sit there!”
Dick freezes. “Why?”
“You… don’t want to know.”
“Is there any surface in this apartment that I can sit?” Dick asks.
Dick shudders. “Yup. Don’t want to think about that.” Dick goes to Lian’s room and grabs her tiny bean bag chair. “This safe?”
“Ew, gross, of course it is!” Roy says, disgusted at the thought of otherwise.
“Well, in that case,” Dick plops down onto the bright pink cushion, “pass me a beer.”
And if Dick passive aggressively threatened Roy throughout the rest of the night, then so be it.