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Danny meets Jason Todd during their first semester at Gotham University, only two months after moving into the city and during one of the worst thunderstorms they've witnessed in a while.
They're out in the streets, trying to make it home from the part time job at an energy company that helps them just about pay for their tiny apartment. Half the city's metro system is down today and Danny doesn't remember which rogue is to blame for it, but they really wish it happened any other day. If flying didn't pose a higher risk to getting struck by lightning, they definitely wouldn't be walking all the way on foot - alone, in the dark, with rain soaking their hair, backpack and clothes.
At least their work boots are sturdy leather and confidently keep out the water - small mercies.
Keeping their hands in their jacket pockets and head ducked as they walk, Danny counts the seconds between lighting strikes and rumbling thunder. They're still at least a ten minute walk to their place by the time the storm is right above them and from there on it feels like every single hair on their arms is standing up.
Whether it be from fear or the signs preceding an immediate lightning strike, Danny wishes to simply not be around to find out.
The growing panic in their chest is threatening to overwhelm them not long after and when the bright crackle of lightning strikes the air right above them, their body reacts without thought.
Legs carry them inside the nearest opening to whatever building they're next to as their shoulders climb high enough to give a false sense of safety in the rain-drenched hood of their jacket and Danny soon finds themselves fully sheltered inside the hallway of a dimly lit apartment complex, standing face to face with a person holding a gun to someone else's head.
"Um."
"Hey," says the gun wielding person, voice tense but stance entirely casual, like they do this every week, minus Danny as the surprise guest. "Come here often?"
"Not... really?"
The gun is still definitely raised but the stranger seems more interested in Danny and they're pretty sure that should be setting off several warning bells for them, but really, they'd still rather be in here than out in the storm.
"Fair," gun-person says, before turning back to their – victim? "So, wanna get out of here on your own or should I give you a little incentive?"
The victim – and Danny hopes they aren't about to be victim number two here – glances once to the side, then shakes their head frantically and waits for the gun to drop down just a tad before bolting, bumping into Danny on their way out. Which, first of all, rude and second, what the fuck just happened?
"Sorry about that." The gun is gone by the time Danny focuses back on the other person still in the hallway, a strained sort of smile on their face as though they might be hoping to convince Danny that there was never a gun in the room at all. "My- friend asked me to scare off this guy that's been stalking her apartment."
"With a real gun?" Danny asks.
"Oh," the stranger nods, knowingly. "You're new to Gotham. I'll take a guess – you're either on the run from the government or a student looking for cheap schooling fees."
Despite the odd situation, Danny finds themselves relaxing around the present company and even the thundering sounds from outside feel a little less suffocating.
With a shaky grin, they reply, "Both, actually."
"Sure you are," the other agrees, easy smile lighting up an admittedly handsome face, probably pretending to go along with what could be taken for a joke. Danny would guess they're about the same age, with similar hair colours, safe for the strands of white framing gun-person's eyes – though they suppose even that could be argued for as a similarity, if one knew enough about Danny.
"So, do you regularly threaten people with your gun?" they ask, because their sense of danger has been skewed for a while now and also they're tired and shivering and really not ready to give up the excuse to keep hiding in here.
"It wasn't loaded."
Danny huffs a laugh. "Sure it wasn't."
The mirroring response gets a responding laugh out of the attractive stranger and with a shake of their head, Danny is presented with a hand to shake.
"I'm Jason."
They hesitate in taking the offered hand, if only because their hands are cold and just barely maintaining any feeling inside their pockets.
Jason's hand feels so nicely warm against their skin.
"Danny, uh, they/them."
Jason startles, but quickly recovers. "Oh, sorry, it's he/him for me. My little brother would be scolding me right now for forgetting to state my pronouns right away. But also have you ever tried asking people in Gotham for their pronouns? Bunch of assholes. "
Goddamn, Danny thinks, the guy may threaten people with his gun, but he's adorable.
"Yeah," is all they manage in response, a full body shiver wracking their frame at the next crack of thunder behind them.
Eyes trailing past them to the window on the front door, Jason seems to understand the situation.
"Were you just hiding from the storm or do you live here?" He asks, waving a hand vaguely around the air.
"If I lived here, I probably shouldn't be telling you that," they blurt, earning another little laugh.
"Shit, that's fair."
"I mean," Danny continues, stupidly. "You do have a gun on you?"
Jason throws his hands up in mock frustration. "It wasn't loaded!"
"Right... okay. Well, I should probably go," Danny decides, grimacing as they turn to glance outside only to find even heavier rain than before. "Ancients, this is not my day."
"Want a ride home?"
Danny turns to stare at Jason, who is – while absolutely their type – still at best a stranger with a gun and at worst a criminal with a gun.
"In this weather? From... you?"
If someone told Danny before this that they'd be making a potential criminal blush today, they would have probably laughed and then suggested taking a nap to ward off any further hallucinations or strange ideas.
"If you want," Jason shrugs, clearly attempting to maintain his cool guy attitude without having to take his weapon back out. Where did he hide that, anyway?
Danny blinks, thinking the offer over, and wonders how much time they're going to need to let pass before ever mentioning this to Jazz without getting a full hour lecture on stranger danger. Probably a half-lifetime.
Shrugging, they step to the side to let Jason through first.
"Fuck it, let's go, I wanna go home and get changed."
If they get murdered tonight, at least they can rest easy knowing they got to see the cute guy smile at them like that.
Jason happily leads them outside, producing keys from somewhere and holding out his leather jacket halfway above Danny's head. Getting protected from the rain from a handsome tall guy is certainly not awakening anything in them, no sir, and so they just quietly follow along without thinking gay thoughts at all.
When Jason stops and hands them a helmet, Danny makes it back to reality, looking past Jason at the metal contraption on wheels.
"This is a bike," they say.
"Sure is," confirms Jason and just wiggles the helmet he's still holding out.
"You found someone hiding from the thunderstorm and then offered to drive them home on your bike? You're crazy."
Jason nods like he gets that lot, or maybe like he's inwardly putting Danny into their own little certified crazy box for having even agreed to this – or just for still sticking around the gun wielding man.
"Well, you can still say no, but this thing is fast and it beats walking while the metro is still down."
"Technically, the metro is always down," Danny jokes, before accepting the stupid helmet and putting it on.
"If you keep up the puns, I might change my mind on whether or not to kidnap you instead of bringing you home," Jason warns and the edge to his tone makes Danny's stomach flip with something that is either fear that he's saying the truth or just regular gay butterflies.
They get on the bike and Danny realizes only after they're secured that they're going to have to give the guy some sort of an address to drop them off at. They decide to just tell him the name of a street a couple blocks away from their apartment and accept their fate. Then, feeling brave, they add, "Just so you know, if you crash this bike with me on it in this rain, you owe me dinner."
"Don't tempt me."
Pretending to ignore the slight rush of not-quite-red blood into their cheeks, Danny settles against the man's back and holds on tightly.
The ride is, surprisingly, kind of fun. Danny's main experience with bikes comes from ghost zone rides and those are usually connected to wonky ghost physics and have not nearly the same kind of thrill as riding with Jason does. They could, however, do without the thunderstorm. Their fingers have gone pretty much fully numb by the time they finally see their destination in the distance and they almost think the day might end at least somewhat normally at this point.
They are, of course, wrong.
At first Danny thinks the noise is just thunder, but with the added tire screeches and a startled Jason, that illusion is swiftly destroyed and replaced with a rush of adrenaline.
The next minute is something of a blur, accented with shouts, more loud bangs and painful scrapes. Suddenly, Danny is lying on their side, blinking and lifting themselves up onto their hands and knees on the wet asphalt, looking around for Jason numbly. Hands heave them up soon after and they're dragged into the shadow of an alley.
"Fucking hell," Jason hisses and Danny as manages to focus again, they realize he's holding a hand to his arm.
"Did your friend's stalker tattle on you and send people to shoot you or do you have any more enemies?" Danny asks while dropping their bag from their shoulders and rummaging through it for the modified small first aid kit they try not to leave the house with.
Cracking a smile, Jason responds with, "Both." He's clearly observing Danny's movements while also keeping a lookout for their attacker - attackers? They’re at least halfway positive that the gunshots were coming from multiple directions before. "You have a med kit with you?"
"Oh, so my med kit is weird but the literal gun you carry around is just casual Gotham City etiquette?"
Jason meets Danny's raised eyebrows with a vaguely amused stare. "Yes."
"Cool. Show me your arm, idiot."
For a moment it looks like the man is about to indulge them, before he glances around the brick corner and his eyes narrow.
"Hold that thought. We should ditch these guys first."
He barely waits for them to pick up their things before pulling them away, starting into a run through dark narrow streets until Danny has lost any and all sense of direction. Seems like Jason did end up sort of kidnapping them after all.
"So, if this is your friend's stalker gang, why are they shouting about drug money and you working for the Red Hood?" Danny asks breathlessly as they try to keep up with the man's speed.
"Listen, I don't know much about these guys," Jason defends. "Maybe her stalker is also a drug dealer?"
Danny decides that Jason is either a practiced liar or just really used to Gotham's crime bullshit.
"Do you regularly threaten drug dealing stalkers with a gun?"
They almost slip when Jason pulls them around another corner and to the back of a building that has seen better days.
"Again, this is Gotham, it's nothing special. And I don't do this every night or anything."
The calm way he says it makes Danny squint through the water on their face. He sure holds himself like he does do this every night.
An awkward climb up a fire escape later, they're both hidden away on a secluded rooftop, only partially shielded from the still pelting rain by a slight overhang from the wall of the building next to them. Blood has started to seep down Jason's jacket sleeve and Danny watches him lift the torn leather where the bullet seems to have grazed his arm ruefully, seemingly more inconvenienced than concerned.
Danny doesn't wait much longer to sit him down and take at least some basic care of the wound.
"You're being surprisingly calm about this."
They pause briefly, glancing at Jason's pleased yet curious expression, hidden by the lack of light, but decipherable enough with Danny's sharp vision. With a half-shrug, keeping the hands on Jason's arm still as they attempt to finish their first aid, Danny smiles.
"You owe me dinner," they say in lieu of an explanation and then firmly keep their eyes in front of them to not have to see Jason's reaction.
There's a long pause and they almost think they've possibly just misinterpreted the vibes between them, especially considering their notable lack of what people might consider a love life so far and the fact that Jason still is sort of a stranger – their unusual first meeting situation aside.
As they move to stow away their supplies into their bag, Jason's voice breaks the relative silence between them and the heavy rain.
"Do you like theatre?"
"Huh?"
Looking away out into the rain, Jason repeats the question. "Do you like going to the theatre? I have tickets to a modern retelling of Romeo and Juliet next Thursday if you're free."
Backpack slung once again over their shoulder, though still crouching on the ground next to Jason, Danny puts a hand over their face in an attempt to hide the embarrassed-but-pleased smile growing on their face. "Um."
"Unless you were kidding," Jason adds, looking more unsure of himself with each second. "I made one hell of a first impression, huh? Ah, shit, I haven't even actually brought you out of the rain yet." His eyes follow Danny's shape until they land on their work boots and he frowns. "I even got blood on your nice fucking shoes. Figures I'd manage that with an arm wound and some scrapes."
Taking in the disappointed scrunch of the man's eyebrows Danny can't help but laugh.
"You sure did make an impression, good sir," they say, hoping to come across as teasing more than anything. "And I've actually never seen any Shakespeare."
Jason's frown deepens and Danny finds themselves eager to wipe the look off his still pretty handsome face.
"You think it's lame," he says, like it's not even worth being posed as a question and he's resigned himself to his fate of never finding another soul to share what Danny guesses to be one of his interests with.
Nudging the shoulder on his uninjured side gently, Danny grins.
"Shakespeare and dinner on Thursday, got it. I better figure out something nice to wear."
As Jason's face clears into a hesitant little smile, ruined only by the retreating storm around them, Danny wonders briefly if they might be getting themselves into something that could be coming a little too close to their old life. The methodical movements of their hands as they dressed Jason's wound brought up some unwanted memories of everyday fights and the long time spent recovering from the events that ended them in Gotham in the first place.
But as they allow Jason to walk them the rest of the way to their apartment building – which, apparently, conveniently lies only a few streets away from the man’s own place - they figure they've already crossed enough lines to at least see it through to the first date. They haven't been on a date since the time they briefly went out with Sam in high school. Clockwork would be so proud of them for living - ha! - a little.
And if Jason turns out to be a cop, they decide, at least they'll have Jazz to whine to about it on the phone.