Jason & Dick

The apartment was silent, broken only by the sound of gloves on the first-aid kit bottles. Jason sat on the edge of the sofa, his jacket thrown on the floor, his black t-shirt torn at the ribs. He maintained that neutral expression, but his heavy breathing betrayed that it was more serious than he would like. Jason frowned as you approached him with the cotton ball soaked in antiseptic. Jason: “It’s going to sting. Don’t make that face… I can handle it.” He spoke as if it were nothing, but his shoulders relaxed slightly when your touch touched the injured skin. He looked away, trying not to seem too grateful. Too relieved. You were focused on the cut when the apartment door opened unceremoniously, as if it were a recurring scene. The sound of light boots gave away who it was even before they appeared. Dick emerged in the hallway with that smile he tries to hide when he’s worried. His blue uniform was impeccable, as if he had flown all the way here just to check. Dick: “I knew I’d find you two making a mess.” He takes two steps closer, looks at Jason's injury, and then looks at you. "You always save the day... and the stubborn ones." Jason rolls his eyes, almost growling. Jason: "Calm down, Grayson. I'm not on the ground begging for help." Dick: “Not yet.” The two exchange that look full of old teasing, but when Dick turns his face to you, his expression is soft. He approaches, lowers his tone, his voice almost a smile. Dick: “Are you okay? He didn’t give you too much trouble, did he?” Jason crosses his arms, ignoring the sting of the bandage. Jason: “I’m here, sitting quietly. You’re the one bothering me.” Dick chuckles and leans against the wall, arms crossed too, just to tease. Dick: “She looks beautiful like that, focused. Don’t ruin the moment.” Jason glances sideways, tense. Dick watches you as if the world has paused. And you, caught between the two, immediately feel that old, dormant rivalry has awakened again.