Work Text:
Dick’s sipping at his drink, missing half the words in the conversation because the beat of the music is so loud; but he’s still having a good time. It’s been a month since he broke up with his last girlfriend, an amicable one that came about because she got a job in a new city, and they weren’t committed enough to live together, or do long distance; but still, he misses sharing time with someone.
Except he’s really not in the right place for him to meet someone.
Agreeing to a night out with Lucas and Andrew for some pressure-free fun hadn’t really gone the way he expected it to. Why Dick had thought they’d go bowling or to a game, he doesn’t know. But here he is, in a gay club, enjoying himself anyway. Lucas and Andrew are persuasive like that. The music, if a little louder than Dick really likes, is great; the ambience is warm and welcoming, every single drag queen has been trying to get either Lucas or Andrew to join them in dressing up (and is why Dick’s currently got a hot pink fake feather boa wrapped around his shoulders) and Dick’s feeling the love in this club tonight.
He’s glancing around during the conversation, the alcohol in his clearly not virgin Shirley Temple cocktail, Lucas, making him a tiny bit tipsy when he spots a young man looking oddly out of place in the club. While he’s as handsome as anyone else there, maybe even a little more so, dark haired with a shock of white hair at the front, that doesn’t look dyed; he’s dressed in a fancy three piece suit, tailored and clearly expensive. His dark red tie’s been loosened and his collar has been unbuttoned, but he looks more ready for a something like one of those high class Wayne galas, than a downtown gay club.
He spots Dick staring at him, and a determined look crosses his face. He starts making his way over and Dick mentally kicks himself. He’s going to have to let him down gently, since it’s likely he wouldn’t have come over if Dick hadn’t been giving him such an obvious once over. In a purely curious way, not in a ‘I’m interested’ way. By the time he’s actually come over Dick’s finished his drink and frantically running polite refusals through his mind.
“Hey... I’m Jason. D’ya wanna dance?” Young suit guy asks, looking hopeful. He’s looming over Dick a little, but standing far enough away that’s it’s not actually annoying.
“Hey Jason.” Dick starts slowly, trying to not to obviously catch either Lucas or Andrew’s attention. Lucas does look over, but instead of intervening, he simply smirks. Looks like it’s up to Dick, then. “Uh, I’m flattered, but I’m not gay.”
“Oh.” Jason nods, withdrawing a little without actually stepping back. “OK. Sorry for bothering you, I had big plans for tonight... I just came out and I want my first dance to be with someone beautiful... And you’re definitely the most beautiful guy in here.”
“Hoo boy.” Lucas mutters. Dick glances over at him, seeing Andrew draped over his shoulders with an encouraging smile.
Dick can feel the blush trying to spread over his face. It’s been a long time since he got an honest compliment that didn’t make him feel like a piece of meat. “Actually, you know? I will dance with you.” Dick shoves his now empty glass at Lucas and slides his arm under Jason’s. “That was an A plus line, and you deserve at least one dance for it.”
He ignores Lucas and Andrew’s quiet laughter as he pulls Jason onto the dance floor. He’s not entirely sure how Jason’s going to dance in that suit, but as soon as he turns around to face him, the deep throbbing beat of the dance song fades out, and in it’s place a slower, more lyrical one starts up. Jason gives him a smile that’s both nervous and happy, gently resting his hands on Dick’s waist.
His fingers don’t even spread from their spot, respectfully staying where Jason first put them. It makes a strange feeling fill Dick’s chest, one he can’t quite name; it only increases when Jason takes a small step in and they end up moving to the music. Jason’s a pretty good dancer, even though they’re not really using any moves or steps. Dick still sort of feels like he’s walking on air with the gentle grip Jason has on him, and the urge to rest his cheek on Jason’s shoulder is weirdly compelling.
Dick’s hands are on Jason’s shoulders, and his suspicions about the quality and price of that suit are pretty much confirmed by the feel of the fabric. Or they would be if Dick could think of anything but how strong and broad Jason’s shoulders are under that suit. The music swells into the last third of the song, a crescendo that makes Dick rise onto the balls of his feet, and it’s a good thing because Jason takes that moment to spin and dip Dick in a move so smooth that even Dick’s heart skips a beat. He can hear a faint smattering of applause from people around the dance floor, but Dick can’t tear his attention away from the small smile on Jason’s face, or the spark in those blue green eyes.
Dick feels a little enchanted, like he’s fallen into some musical and this is the big romantic dance number. Which is odd, because he’s dancing (surprisingly well) with a dude, and Dick’s not gay. But the magic of being someone’s first dance is working on him too, and just knowing that he’s going to be an unforgettable moment in this handsome man’s life is, for lack of a better word, magical.
The music fades away, and a faster beat takes over, and Jason steps back, smiling widely. Dick’s about to compliment him, but Jason, keeping full eye contact with him, gently takes one of Dick’s hands, bringing it to his mouth to kiss the back of it, before stepping back into the crowd without a word; leaving Dick standing there with an outstretched hand, and a heart full of feelings he can’t name.
***
It’s been two weeks and Dick cannot get that dance out of his mind for love nor money. It invades his thoughts at the most annoying times, like just as he’s trying to fall asleep, when he’s bored on a stakeout on a cheating husband, or, worst of all when he’s in the shower.
It’s the sensation of his hands on those powerful shoulders, the way Jason’s hands had felt warm and safe on his waist, the thrill of being spun and dipped by someone stronger than him that sets his heart racing in a distinctly non-pg way.
That he’s had some of the best orgasms of his life to the memory have led him on some pretty serious introspection, which is why he finds himself on Lucas and Andrew’s couch, hoping for some sensible advice from two men he both trusts, respects, and knows will talk some sense into him.
“Uh, so... I may have realised that I’m not as straight as I thought I was.” Dick says sheepishly.
“Dick, we’ve been telling you that for years.” Lucas says with a snort and a shake of his head.
“Well, apparently he likes younger men, not older, so shush you.” Andrew swipes affectionately at his husband’s shoulder as he sits down with them. “The guy you danced with at the club?”
“Yeah.” Dick stares up at the ceiling for a moment. “It’s been that obvious?”
“You were basically floating after that dance.” Andrew nods, only kindness in his eyes and none of his husband’s ‘told you so’.
“So, you got his name and number, right?” Lucas says, still grinning a shit eating grin. Dick wonders why he thought he wouldn't be teased over this.
“I got his name.” Dick nods, flopping back into the impressively comfortable couch. He can hear a whine creeping into his voice when he continues. “No contact details though. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to find him.”
“...You’re a private detective.” Lukas says exasperated in the face of Dick’s unusual pessimism. “Isn’t finding people kind of literally your gig?”
“Don’t logic me when I’m trying to complain!” Dick pouts, staring up at the ceiling once again. He wanted some sense talked into him, but not this much. “It’s rude.”
“Dick, you do realise that Lucas will hold this moment over your head for the rest of your life, right?” Andrew points out, and when Dick lifts his head up to look at his fosterdad, he’s smirking because he agrees with Lucas.
“A Private Detective. Who can’t find someone off a face and a name. In this age of modern technology.” Lucas smirks, not even bothering to hide how funny he finds it. “Seriously, Dickiebird, have you even tried?”
“...No.” Dick bites his lip nervously, flushing red. “What if he’s not single anymore?”
Lucas and Andrew share a look. “Well, then, you tell him you had a great dance.” Andrew shrugs, wearing the kind of bland look he pulls on when he disagrees with you but doesn’t have anything to back himself up. “You’ll never know unless you find him.”
“Come on, kid, spell it out for us. What do you know about him?” Lucas says, rolling his eyes like he can’t believe he has to lead Dick by the hand like this.
“...He’s hot. And young, but not enough to stop him from getting into an over-21’s club, so he either has a great fake id, or he’s actually at least twenty-one.” Dick muses, ticking off what he knows on his fingers. “Has enough money to be able to afford a hand-tailored suit in very high quality materials. Only came out recently. Knows how to dance. Surprisingly buff under that suit.”
“Meaning...” Andrew swats lightly at Lucas again who’s making an obscene gesture that Dick’s forcing himself to avoid. Because no, he has no idea how hung Jason is, or indeed, might be. Sure they danced, but nowhere near that closely.
“He’s a rich hot young gay guy, and if he came out publicly then he’s probably made it to a gossip column. So I should start off cross referencing ‘Jason’ with any recent gossip columns in the Gotham Gazette.” Dick sighs, reaching down to the floor to drag out his laptop from his bag. “Vicki Vale is a shark for the upper classes, no way she’d have missed mentioning it if I’m even vaguely right about him.”
Once it’s booted up, Dick opens his browser and heads straight for the Gotham Gazette website. A few further clicks bring up the last two weeks of Vicki Vale’s stunning insights into the ‘elite’ of Gotham, and Dick rolls his eyes at her particular brand of trash-peddling. He doesn’t get a lot of cases from the more wealthy citizens of Gotham, but when he does, Vale’s column is usually the first place he checks. And sure enough, just under two weeks ago Vale gave the headline to the coming out of the son of the richest man in Gotham, Bruce Wayne. There’s even a photo of Jason Wayne, in that same suit that he was wearing when he danced with Dick, just to confirm his identity.
According to Ms Vale, the latest Wayne gala had a bit of a scandal when Mr Wayne had been trying to encourage Jason to dance with some random socialites when he had (at a very loud volume) said something along the lines of ‘Fuck this! Bruce, I’m gay, I’m not dancing with any woman here.’ Wayne’s reply had caused Jason to storm off, not be seen for the rest of the gala. Which makes sense if Jason had left for the club, still in that fancy suit; dancing Dick’s heart away with him.
Tracking down Jason Wayne should be the easiest case Dick’s had.
***
Tracking down Jason Wayne is proving trickier than that one case Dick had where he had to prove to a disbelieving father that the vintage doll he kept giving his infant daughter was the cause of said infant’s recurring illnesses. For some reason the man simply wouldn’t believe that the doll could have anything toxic on it until his wife had taken it one night and given to Dick to give to a lab for testing. The theft and testing had been the easy part.
No, tracking down the younger Wayne is even more complicated than explaining to a near hysterical father that science does in fact explain a lot of things. Including rain. Every time Dick thinks he’s found an in, calling the office of the Wayne Charitable Fund that Jason apparently works for, even any social media accounts results in a failure to actually reach the man. Dick’s now convinced that Jason Wayne doesn’t in fact run his own twitter, is certainly not on vacation outside of the country as the WCF told him, but also doesn’t seem to be in Gotham either.
All in all, Jason Wayne is much more of a mystery than such a public figure ought to be. Or at least one that makes efforts to be in the public eye a little, and not a total recluse who never goes out anywhere. Because Jason seems to do both, at the same time. Which is... Odd. Dick’s fingers itch at the situation. It feels like a real case for a detective, and since that’s what Dick is, he’s having the time of his life. But the search for Jason Wayne is tinged with a longing that is entirely not professional. He wants. Dick wants, and it’s making what should be a simple job of contacting someone harder to do than it should be.
The fact that he’s being given the run around on by anyone in Jason Wayne’s life makes Dick want to dig in deeper, and one evening after he’s finished his paid work for the week, Dick does exactly that. He researches everything he can on Jason and Bruce Wayne, from the adoption to the gala. It’s an eye opening time, as he realises that he once met Bruce Wayne, on the night his parents died; he’d given Dick his coat to keep him warm. Dick takes a few minutes to wonder what would have happened if he’d been adopted by Bruce too, how different his life would have been if he had got out of the foster care system, and never met Lucas and Andrew. He can’t even really imagine it.
There’d been a lot of anonymous mutterings when Bruce had adopted Jason. A thirty year old, single, (rich) man adopting a kid right off the street? People had wondered exactly what was really going on. In an amusing coincidence, the one year anniversary of Wayne adopting the kid, was the first time Batman was seen with his young sidekick, Batboy.
Dick sets that aside, though. He’s pretty sure that if Bruce Wayne is Batman that Lucas would have given him the heads up, privately; he and Andrew are the vigilantes, Midnighter and Apollo. Dick had followed in their footsteps, becoming Freefall, private detective by day (well all hours, really), and vigilante by night (also all hours, really. Dick doesn’t really draw a line anymore). But they tend to stick to their corner of Gotham, occasionally going into Bludhaven if the need arises. As far as Batman and Batboy are concerned, Dick’s never seen more than a distant cape against some light on a rooftop, and he’s totally fine with that.
Which is why after all his researching and reaching out, it’s ironic that the way he finally finds Jason is by simply bumping into him on the street, the one day he’s promised himself he won’t so much as check Jason’s ‘official’ twitter. Dick’s staring down at the bag of groceries in his arms when a strong arm slams into his, followed by a heavy Narrows accent yelling profanities in the opposite direction. The owner of the arm, encased nicely in a black leather jacket turns around to apologise to Dick, and Dick’s mouth drops when he realises it’s Jason fucking Wayne.
“Shit, sorry.” Jason says with that smile that’s been haunting Dick’s dreams. “Did you drop anything?”
Somehow, Dick manages not to say the first thought that comes to mind (No, just my panties...) and manages a less flirty “No. I’m good.”
Jason smiles again, and starts to turn away before turning back and speaking again. “OK, this is gonna sound kinda... Uh. But, we’ve met right? We danced together?”
“Yeah, that was me.” Dick says, before his brain starts to really work. “You dipped me.”
“Right! Fuck, you’re even more beautiful in natural light.” Jason blinks and Dick gets lost in the blue-green of those eyes. “And I’ve been kicking myself all this time for not getting your name.”
“Dick.” And before Jason’s smile can drop from his face, Dick continues on. He shoves his free hand into his jacket pocket and pulls out a card, pushing it into Jason’s. “Dick Grayson, Private Detective. And yes, I have heard all of the jokes.”
Jason quirks an eyebrow as he flicks the card over in his fingers. “This has your cell number on it?” He flicks the card back over, one large thumb running over the embossed lettering of Dick’s name, accreditation and work contact info.
“Yeah.” Dick lets a smile spread across his face, just as Jason looks up from the card to look back at him. “And no, I don’t give that out to everyone.”
“Well, now I’m feeling special.” Jason says, making eye contact and holding it until Dick feels seen.
“You should.” Dick says, finding his confidence again. He knows this part, the flirting and getting to know people is almost his favourite part of dating. “Buy me a coffee, and maybe I will too.”
***
Coffee went so well that it got followed by dinner the next night, and lunch the day after. Three stupidly easy, great dates. Dick can’t remember ever having a relationship, even if it’s too early to really be calling it that, go so smoothly; like he and Jason were meant to meet and he’s just been waiting for him.
It feels so natural to be sitting in Jason’s uptown penthouse, throwing popcorn at each other while ignoring some overblown action movie, and discussing their favourites. How they moved from Jane Austen remakes to Disney, Dick’s not even sure, but here they are discussing the relative merits of Disney princesses. Jason has a lot of opinions on them despite having only seen Cinderella, once, many years ago when his mom was still alive, on a tv that was barely working.
“To be honest, I still don’t get why her glass slipper didn’t turn back into a normal shoe since the carriage and her dress did.” Jason muses, throwing a kernel of popcorn up into the air and catching with his mouth.
“Magic!” Dick says with a wide grin. “How else could the prince know who to look for?”
“Uh, he’s the prince...” Jason scoffs, shaking his head. “And also by looking at her face?”
“Faceblindness is a thing, Jay.” Dick informs him loftily. “Besides, the glass shipper just showed how special she was, I guess.”
“Mmm.” Jason raises an eyebrow, not actually disagreeing or agreeing with Dick. “Not that the Wayne Galas are like a royal ball, but you’d have to be pretty dumb to not even get a name or remember something else about your dance partner than her shoe.”
“If you say so, Prince Charming.” Dick snorts, his fingers hitting the bottom of his now empty popcorn bowl.”
“Doesn’t that kinda make you Cinderella?” Jason says fighting off a grin. “I mean, if I’m the prince and I danced with you...”
“I'm not Cinderella, I had both my shoes at the end of the dance.” Dick shakes his head with an answering grin. “Besides I was the one looking for you.”
“I stole your heart, that's better than a shoe.” Jason points out, holding up a piece of popcorn and using it to punctuate his point.
“...Damn it.” Dick sighs, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach at the way Jason’s gazing at him. “That was too smooth. Stop it.”
“Nope, no can do. I gotta sweep you off your feet and make you my princess.” Jason smirks, reaching out and wrapping one large hand around Dick’s ankle. “The singing mice said so, and who am I to argue with them?”
“Well, if the singing mice said so...” Dick nods, barely holding back his laughter as Jason drags him closer by his ankle. “Guess you’d better get to it, Jay.”
“As you wish.” Jason whispers, leaning in close. Dick takes the second of Jason looming over him to notice once again the way the light bounces off Jason’s dark hair, leaving the smallest hint of a deep dark red, the scattering of freckles and tiny scars on Jason’s face, and most of all, that intense blue-green gaze. Their lips meet and all thought flees as Dick revels in the warmth of Jason’s body pressed against his on the couch, the trace of salt and butter from the popcorn they’d been eating making the kiss no less sweet or breath taking.
It’s only when they break for air that Dick gets out the reaction he’d meant to before Jason kissed him. “I thought I was Cinderella, not Buttercup?”
“You can be whoever you wanna be, Dickie...” Jason says, eyes alight with joy and the hint of mischief. “As long as you’re mine.”
“Shut up and kiss me, Jason.” Dick breathes out; pulling Jason back down into another kiss that makes his heart twist and his toes curl in bliss.
***
“You know, if today isn’t a good day, I could come back...” Jason says, lagging behind Dick, clearly doing his best to get out of meeting Lucas and Andrew.
“It’s fine.” Dick says, tugging Jason into step with him. “I checked earlier. We’re meeting them for lunch, even if there’s a fullscale Arkham breakout.”
“Don’t make me wish for that!” Jason says, scandalised. “Because, one, if that does happen, I am leaving, no question; and two, it’s not that I don’t want to meet them. It’s just nerve wracking meeting the parents, OK? I have had nightmares about you asking ‘please pass the salt, daddy’ and all three of us reaching for it.”
“I have never once called you daddy.” Dick says, raising both his eyebrows at Jason. (He wishes he knew how to just raise the one like Jason can, apparently he learned the trick from his grandfather.) Not that Dick’s entirely opposed to calling Jason daddy; it’s just kind of weird given that he’s younger than him.
“There’s still time.” Jason nods sagely, his eyes crinkling up with good humour.
“Since lunch is in twenty minutes, and the place we’re going in ten minutes away? No, no, we don’t.” Dick says, biting back the daddy that’s now sitting on his tongue, thanks to Jason’s joke.
“Well, not with that attitude we don’t.” Jason sighs; apparently resigning himself both to his fate of not getting called daddy, and that there’s no getting out of this meeting. With that settled, Jason picks up a little speed, and Dick’s arm is no longer awkwardly pulled behind him. Instead Jason keeps perfect pace with Dick, sliding his hand into his.
They arrive at Andrew and Lucas’ place with five minutes to spare, and while Jason still looks nervous when they’re on the street, by the time they’ve reached the floor that Dick’s foster parents live on, there’s no trace of anything like nervousness in Jason’s behaviour. Jason presses the bell with the same amount of confidence he showed when he asked Dick to dance; Dick realises Jason must’ve been nervous then too.
The door opens and Lucas smirks at them. Dick feels Jason tense up, but his smile stays firmly in place.
***
“Hey, you still at work?” Jason says when Dick answers his cell. Technically, Dick is. It’s just that he’s in costume on the roof of his office building, and not actually in his office.
“Yeah.” Dick says confused, he’s pretty sure they didn’t have a date tonight. “Why?”
“Because I’m right outside your building, and hoped I could drop by?” Jason says, and there’s something in his tone that sounds off. Like he needs to talk or something. Dick didn’t have anything planned beyond a simple patrol, which he can blow off in favour of his boyfriend.
“Sure! I’ll see you in a few.” Dick nods, before remembering that Jason can’t see it over the phone. Jason hangs up with a quiet thanks. And Dick scrambles to get down three floors and pull on something to cover up his costume before Jason knocks on his office door.
Dick opens the door, having managed to yank on a long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants, losing his gloves and mask to his desk drawer. Jason’s weirdly dressed down, for him, in a simple hoodie and jeans.
“I had a fucking shitty night. Can I just hold you?” Jason says, looking lost and almost angry.
“Of course.” Dick opens his arms; and hopes that his shirt is thick enough, and that Jason’s distracted enough not to notice his costume.
Jason wraps himself around Dick, breathing out heavily and because Dick wasn’t really prepared they end up walking back two steps, and Dick’s back hits the wall.
Jason keeps breathing, tucking his face down into Dick’s neck. Dick rests his hands on Jason’s shoulders and tries to ignore the warmth building in his belly. Now is not the time for sex, Jason needs a hug. But no one told Jason that, because his hands have slid down to cup and fondle Dick’s ass, and Dick’s head hits the wall in an effort not to moan as he starts to get hard, and he can feel Jason doing the same.
Going from hugging to scrabbling at each other’s waistbands in one heartbeat to the next, clothes are shoved up and down out of the way. Dick jumps up into Jason’s arms, and then there’s nothing but the glorious friction of their cocks rubbing in each other, fast and frantic. Jason drops his head back down, resting it on Dick’s shoulder; Dick somehow manages to move his hand to muffle his own moans.
Orgasm slams into Dick faster and harder than it has in a long time. By the time he opens his eyes from the wrung out feeling, Jason’s already moved them over to sit in his desk chair, Dick perched in his lap; wiping away streaks of white with a tissue.
Dick tries to help, pushing Jason’s hoodie up higher, his fingers brushing against thick, stiff, very familiar material. “Uh...”
“I can explain!” Jason rushes out, his fingers wrapping around Dick’s.
“You’re wearing a bulletproof vest.” Dick nods, because as the son of the richest man in Gotham that actually makes a lot of sense. Jason probably as to fend off a lot of people who want to hurt him. For money, or just because.
“Well, it’s more of a full body thing, really.” Jason says, his hands getting dangerously close to the hem of Dick’s own shirt. Dick absolutely can’t let Jason feel his costume underneath it. He’s just not ready for Jason to know that Dick’s Freefall yet.
“Makes sense.” Dick says, leaning back, trying to get out of the reach of Jason’s questing fingers.
“Are you really trying to play it this way? OK, fine. I’ll go first then.” Jason says with a sigh, stepping back to pull his hoodie off by reaching behind his head and yanking. At first it blocks Dick’s vision of him, but then the unmistakable logo of the Bats is clear in bright, reflective red on Jason’s chest. “Yeah, so I’m Batboy.”
Dick chokes on air. How? What? Why? What the actual fuck? “Batboy...”
“Yes, I know.” Jason sighs, again, running a hand through his hair. “It’s a shitty codename. I always meant to come up with something better, but then it stuck, so...”
“Oh.” Dick says, one hand reaching out to touch the outline of the bat with fingers that want to tremble but somehow don’t.
“So... Freefall.” Jason says, laying his hand flat over Dick’s on his chest.
“Yes?” Dick answers automatically. He pauses realising what just happened and looks up at Jason. “Uh...”
“No, you didn’t do anything to tip me off.” Jason grins, his lopsided smile making Dick’s heart do somersaults. “Meeting your foster parents, Midnighter and Apollo? Yeah, that clued me in. You trying to hide your uniform was the clincher, though. And I’m pretty sure they know I’m Batboy, too.”
“Damn, we’re kind of ridiculous, aren’t we?” Dick lets a nervous laugh out. “Does this mean we need to fight now? Us and the Bats aren’t exactly on good terms.”
“Oh yeah, I’m going to punch you in the mouth.” Jason nods, leaning closer with a smirk. “With my own mouth. Softly; because I like you.”
“I like you too.” Dick whispers as Jason closes the gap between them, and their lips meet in a kiss that steals Dick’s breath and makes his knees go weak. He clings onto Jason, pulling back for air.
“I know you do, Beautiful.” Jason says quietly, resting his forehead on Dick’s.
Dick can’t stand that intense gaze for a second longer, and right now he doesn’t want to think about the implications of them being at odds professionally. “Shut up and kiss me again, Prince Charming.”
“As you wish.” Jason smiles, so sweet and genuine that Dick has to close his eyes. It’s worth it for the kiss that follows; and all of the others after that one too.
