Archive of Our Own ^beta

Running a drug empire was hard enough as it was dealing with people trying to stiff you, kill you, and everything in between, but he hadn’t expected what was in front of him right now. Two of his men were grinning wildly, every bit of self confidence and pride beaming in their eyes as they exchanged words with one another about what they’d done in their explanation over a sprawled out body of a man clearly knocked out of it. It was a little comical he could admit, but he’d made it clear to all his men that he wouldn’t deal in human trafficking, so why they had a bound up man in front of them with a burlap sac on his head talking about a payday was beyond him. 

“Get to the point,” Hood said, modulated voice carrying every bit of his annoyance. He already decided he would let the man go, whoever he was, but not at his base of operations, so long as the guy wasn’t some rival drug dealer selling to kids or something.

“We thought-well-”

“We got him for a steal!” the second cut in before letting the other talk again.

“He was on a discount sale because he was giving everyone trouble, you see, and they didn’t know they had someone really important-”

“Right, right, and so we thought-even if you didn’t do trafficking here, over in New York, they’ve still got the auctions up, and Bobby’s cousin was manning one of the warehouses when he saw him-”

“So I tolds him to snap him up, like a lousy eight k boss, easy money you know-”

“I mean, it ain’t lousy to me, Bobby, but I thought we’d make at least a few million easy, you can pay me back. You know-a ransom job.”

Red hood let out a sigh and came towards them, watching them getting uneasy and twitching like they might run at any second. He wasn’t known to go easy on rule breakers and he threw his arm around Bobby’s shoulder and stared down at the man.

“When I told you we don’t deal with traffickers, what made you think I’d want to deal in ransoms either? It's kinda the same thing, don’tcha think?” 

“Oh-ah! But boss! He’s a real fish you see, you always complaining about that Bruce Wayne guy-”

Hood moved away from the thug, suddenly looking down at the man with a different purpose. It definitely wasn’t Bruce, not by the smaller stature, nor by the casual everyday clothes. As he looked closer though, he could see that the clothes weren’t exactly cheap either under the dirt and grime they’d picked up during transport, in fact he knew exactly who he was looking at by the ripple of muscle under the soft blue shirt.

“You know what, you both did good. I’ll get you your eight thousand back to you Lenny. Now the two of you, get out.”

“Want us to call in the ransom?” Bobby asked, stepping towards their claimed prize.

“No. I want you to get out.”

When Bobby didn’t seem to move, confounded by the abrupt change, Lenny grabbed him and pulled him away. Hood didn’t mind so much the hushed whispers behind him, only that he was left there alone. He waited for a little while just to see if his captured companion was playing possum, but he didn’t want to wait all day. He nudged his side with his boot a few times, but it was clear whatever they’d given him really had taken him out.

He pulled him over, peeking under the burlap sack just to make sure. It was Dick alright. Dick Grayson, the goldie himself completely out of it. He looked terrible, bags under his eyes, skin scuffed up, clearly having taken a punch to the jaw at least by the bruise he sported there. Hood let out a sigh and picked him up off the ground, plan changing as he lifted him up.

He didn’t have it in him to go back to the manor, too close for comfort-that, and he didn’t know where Dick was staying these days to have been caught up in New York. With a nearby safehouse that he could let him go in mind instead, he left the building with Dick held tight against his body with an eye out for trouble. Even if the others had left, there was no telling when someone might try and take advantage. Luckily enough, it seemed no one else was really in on the handover, an empty alleyway full of its usual grime and trash and he secured Dick in his car before taking him down past the docks to an old apartment complex that’d seen better days.

Getting Dick into the safehouse was a little harder, lump of a log that his pure muscle was, but he managed it finally, plopping him down on the old beat up couch in the sparse one room space. First thing he did was cut the zip ties off his hands, rubbing down his arms to get the circulation back through them. Sure enough he had a split on the knuckles of his right hand, and Jason pulled the bag off his head to get a better look at the blooming bruise on Dick’s jaw. Aside from it, Dick didn’t seem all that hurt but the bags under his eyes and pallor of his skin told him that he was still carrying a heavy sleep debt and forgetting to get a little sun in.

He moved through the safehouse, gathering up some food and water, a first aid kit. He wasn’t too worried if Dick woke up, but he was at least a little relieved when he noticed his chest was still rising and falling in the tall tale sign of sleep. Cleaning his wounds were easy enough, and a cursory check, purely for safety, ensured he didn’t have any internal bleeding going on. Finally Hood just sat and waited, watching Dick rest until he realized he was doing it. With a scoffing noise, he pulled out a small container of smelling salts from his first aid kit and uncapped it, holding it up a little from Dick’s nose.

It was amusing to say the least, Dick’s face scrunching up before his eyes peeled open in apparent horror at whatever smell was permeating below his nose, even more so when his expression went from shock to something more prepared when he realized he was in his civvies. Suddenly Dick’s expression was worried, glancing around in a nervousness Hood was pretty certain was completely fabricated. He crossed his arms and waited for the theatrics to end, but Dick was quick to speak like he always was.

“Hey there! Oh, my hands are free now—thanks a bunch! So uh, what can I help you with? Mr. Hood? Mr. Red Hood? Is it for a ransom?”

Dick was rubbing his wrists, still playing at a man who was halfway used to being kidnapped for money. It also told him everything he needed to know. Dick really had no clue who the hell he was yet. Interesting, but irrelevant for the time being. He finally uncrossed his arms, tossing the smelling salts into his kit before he held out a water bottle for him.

“Thanks,” Dick said, clearly examining the bottle, the fact that it was still sealed. Hood could think of fifty ways to mess with the bottle without breaking the cap but Dick seemed satisfied enough when he started drinking it down like he’d gone weeks without it. Hood held out a meal bar next, still seeing no reason to speak, and Dick seeing every reason to keep talking.

 “I haven’t exactly been home for a while, not sure you’ll get much for me.” Dick barely double checked the food, and somehow that annoyed Hood to no end. Watching him chew through the bar, gaze clearly trying to glean every little thing he could while he tried to look flippant and worried all at once, yet he didn’t even question his food?

“Unless…unless you have something else in mind?” Dick was suddenly looking at Hood like he only just put two and two together. Labor, sex, or money, that’s all any of it was about, wasn’t it? Hood crossed his arms again, wondering what reputation Dick had put together on his side of things.

“I’m not exactly strong…and I know they plaster me in the papers and all, but I really-” Dick worried his bottom lip, looking away for the first time like he was trying to decide something. For once, Hood wished he’d kept talking but finally Dick looked at him, head down and eyes up with an almost sorry look on his face.

“You don’t talk much do you?”

“I talk plenty fine,” Hood replied, voice modulation not really all that necessary. Dick wouldn’t recognize his voice anyways, but he did have a reputation to uphold. His plans were still in progress and he wasn’t going to let Dick mess it all up after all.

“So…what can I do for you then? What’ll it be?”

“I’m letting you go.”

“What?!” Dick couldn’t hide his shock, mouth dropped open looking dumbstruck.

“You heard me.”

“But-but you’re a-”

“Killer? Criminal?” Hood snarled, hackles rising.

“Well, yah. Even I’ve heard the rumors, read the papers,” Dick replied, trying to weave a believable lie in it all. It was too obvious, so much so Hood scoffed and kicked the couch in irritation.

“I don’t kill innocents and I sure as hell don’t support trafficking or kidnapping and ransoming some Gotham socialite.”

“Then what do you do?”

“I kill people who deserve it.”

Dick’s brows had furrowed, mouth pressed together like he was considering something he’d never thought of before. Hood could see the way the world was warping and changing around the news, the beads of curiosity falling all around the statements but trying not to slip up on them and show his hand.

“How’d I end up here?” Dick asked instead, diverting his attention to the apartment again, as if it were the natural progression of the conversation rather than asking when he could leave like a normal person. Hood’s only lament was how Dick couldn’t see his eyes rolling out of his head at how obvious it was.

“Little too curious for your own good there.”

“I’d like to avoid a repeat of it all, if I can.”

“You don’t remember how you got nabbed-beat up?”

“Of course I remember that. It's just between getting caged with others and getting here that’s a little less certain.”

“Don’t see any reason why you should be concerned about it. Rest, or don’t, I don’t give a shit.” Hood stood to his feet, menacing over Dick with his arms at his side, but Dick didn’t seem all that bothered, already having dropped most of his facade of looking scared now that he knew he was getting let go. Stupid really. He could be lying and Dick was acting like he wasn’t. It made him want to punch the smile that showed up on his face.

“They’re wrong about you, aren’t they?” Dick looked hopeful, and now Hood really wanted to punch him.

“I’m leaving.” Hood was pretty certain the place was clean enough, that nothing inside would give him away, and that was the end of it. He needed to get out of there now. Crossing the small space he left and slammed the door behind him, hurrying along down the stairs and out on the street. There was no way Dick was going to scale down the side of the building dressed the way he was, but he didn’t risk showing himself easily either just in case. Paranoia was how he survived so far.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

It was a few months later when Hood was reminded of that day again. So far he’d managed to push it from his mind, let go of the way Dick had looked up at him from the couch like some kind of Mother Teresa just trying to help guide him to the light. He was giving him that look right now, face sporting a busted lip and a cut above his brow. Bobby and Lenny were grinning again, looking pretty damn proud of themselves.

“What the fuck is this clown doing here?” Hood growled, fists clenched.

“He got away from you, didn’t he?” Bobby asked, clearly perplexed by his boss’s tone.

“Yah, we was just returning him to you. Found him walking around the docks and all.” Lenny added, which admittedly, Hood had to admit wasn’t a place a playboy billionaire was supposed to be just waltzing around at. He looked down, Dick’s expression looking every bit of innocent as he could muster.

“Who hit him?”

“Me boss!” Bobby raised his hand eager like, beaming. “He didn’t put up much ‘a fight after that.”

‘Fuck!’ Hood thought, sighing out before he uncrossed his arms. “Bobby, Lenny, I’m only gonna tell you this once. If you hit him again, I’m going to hit you back. A lot harder, you hear?”

“But boss?” Lenny started, when Bobby cut him off like he understood.

“Of course boss, we’ll be carefuls next time. Don’t wanna mess up that pretty face of his, right?”

“Oh,” Lenny added, suddenly enlightened and looked down to Dick with his own face that wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it, like he’d never thought about if a man could be pretty or not.

“Get out of here,” Hood said, not moving, glaring down at Dick who was looking over at the other two as they left.

“Sure thing, boss,” Bobby said, pulling Lenny along with him with a grin.

“You think the boss likes a pretty face?” Lenny asked, still wrapping his head around it.

“Seems so. Think he’s keeping him around just for his face?” Bobby laughed, leaning in and whispering conspiratorially.

“We didn’t get no ransom monies yet. Maybe that rich guy really sucks as much as the boss says.”

“I think it's his face,” Bobby decided instead, Lenny’s response lost to them from the other side of the door.

Dick slowly turned back to grin up at him, smug little shit that he was and Hood crossed his arms, unamused.

“Why are you snooping around here? Don’t you have any sense?”

“I wasn’t exactly snooping.”

“Then what?”

“I was looking for you,” Dick said, sheepish. Hood really couldn’t tell if he was lying this time around, or what the angle was. Either way, he had to treat Dick like the civilian he was pretending to be and not a vigilante moonlighter that he was. He looked around in thought before he leaned in and grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

“You must have a whole lotta time on your hands to be fucking around my operation, but this here ain’t a game for you to entertain yourself with, rich boy.”

“I know!”

“Then what the hell are you doing sneaking ‘round? You think I won’t-”

“You said you don’t kill innocent people!” Dick pleaded, while smiling anyways. Had he always looked a little mad like that with his eyes searching for something?

“That doesn’t mean you can just go around stickin’ your damn nose where it doesn’t belong,” Hood snarled, grip tighter. He could just fling him, take it out on him, he really should, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. “You’re lucky you didn’t run into someone who shoots first and asks questions later!”

“Okay, I get it. I’m sorry. But-I needed to find you.”

Hood pulled his head back, letting go of Dick’s shirt to stand up and get his bearings. He needed to calm down, needed to stop Dick from getting under his skin like he belonged there.

“What the hell do you need to find me for? You got some kind of death wish?”

Dick let out a little huffing breathy laugh, his smile brightening up before he shook his head, “no, but I wanted to tell you thank you. You let me go, and-”

A cut of gunfire sounded and Hood jerked his head to the right where his men had left. Jason was already cutting towards the door, pulling his double stack 1911 out as he opened and peeked through the slit of the door. Out past the East side of the docks, containers obscuring most his view, an explosion rocked the ground. The flash of light wasn’t blinding through his visor, and soon followed great billows of smoke. A trade was going down in an hour but it looked like someone paid the resting shipment a visit.

“Fuck!” he growled, head snapping over to see Dick was still playing like he didn’t know what was going on, gaze on edge where he’d been left standing. He marked over, anger building in his chest like a loaded gun ready to blow.

“You did this?!”

“No!” Dick suddenly exclaimed, eyes widening as he shook his head.

“Then why is it minutes after you show up, my plan goes to shit?!”

“I don’t know. I promise, Hood, I’ve got nothing to do with it. Untie me, let me help!”

“Just what the hell do you think you’re gonna do?”

“You should know it anyways, since it wasn’t hidden, but I used to be a cop! I’m trained, I can help.”

Dick got up to his feet, turning around in a sign of trust. Hood let out a frustrated howl, slamming his gun into its holster to pull out his knife. The metal and plastic was unrelenting in his grip and he cut through Dick’s restraints angrier than ever. Of course he knew he had been a cop at some point, the very idea making him laugh and scoff but if Dick thought being a cop was going to explain away him pulling some theatrics-

“I outta stab you!”

“But you won't!” Dick said confidently, rubbing at his wrists as he turned to face him.

“Like hell-”

“I need a weapon.”

“What you need is to shut up and follow me. My men can handle this for now,” Hood replied, pulling Dick by the wrist as he went the opposite way away from the recurring spattering of gunfire. Heads would roll soon enough, but he needed to get Dick away from them so he wouldn’t risk his identity over something stupid. He still wasn’t completely convinced Dick hadn’t been the one to sabotage their trade-off, or worse, brought Batman into it.

Dick tried to protest, even when he shouldn’t have. It was giving him away too much, made him want to yell in his face how obvious it was that he wasn’t who he was pretending to be, but he couldn’t let Dick know who he was either. It’d spoil his plans, it’d get in the way of his own vengeance. With his thoughts lining back into order, his goal reaffirmed, he brought Dick out towards the drydocks.

A large ship was pulled in, cranes still and workers long gone for the day, and running down its length proved easy enough to hide behind the small workstations used to clean, repair, and repaint whatever ship was in port. Inconvenient as it was to run the length, his bike was too close to the action to risk a stray bullet, which is why when he heard the tale tell sign of engines rumbling up to their right, he practically tossed Dick into one of the washing stations and pulled his gun out.

It dropped to the side, sliding along the wood in a horrible grind of wood and metal with another shower of bullets coming across the way; the pinging sharp sound ricocheting off the rusting nearby metal had him ducking down. Hood kept his aim true, shooting down two that stood at the edge with their semi automatic rifles, unsuspecting he was even there. He rushed to the bike, heart ramming against his ribs when he noticed it was Bobby.

“Hey! You okay?” He glanced around before pulling the bike off him. Despite fuel everywhere wafting stringent through his helmet, the bike had luckily low sided, but unluckily, Bobby was leaking out his own side too. 

“Yah, boss, just got popped is all.”

“Where at?” He dropped to his knees. Bobby pulled up his jacket awkwardly, out of it slightly from all the hits to his head against the ground. Hood pushed up the dingy blood soaked fabric and grimaced. Ripping out a compression bandage from his cargo pants and blocking the entrance and exit on Bobby’s midsection, he pressed in to make sure it would hold well enough. It didn’t look fatal as far as he could tell even as Bobby held in his discomfort with a grimace, but that didn’t mean he could just abandon him to fate. He pulled him up quickly, cursing as Dick came running over in broad view.

“Let me,” Dick said, getting up under Bobby’s arm to help carry him.

“Where’s Lenny? What’s going on?” Hood was already asking, trying to get them further out the fray despite it spilling closer behind him with shouts and Dick waving himself around.

“Mask’s gang rushed in, pissed ‘n all we’s got in the way of hims gettin’ the guns.”

“Lenny?”

“He uh, ran off the other ways, dumped the goods in the bay like you said,” Bobby groaned. They weren’t moving quick enough to suit him, but the closest vehicle he could think of was another five hundred yards at least.

“Dumped them in the bay?” Dick was asking, but Hood ignored his questioning gaze, cutting Bobby off before he could say anything else.

“That old beat up honda still near the big office?”

“Far’s I know,” Bobby groaned again, feet starting to turn a little sluggish. Hood spared him a glance, not liking the pallor and sweat on his brow.

“Stay with me big guy, ‘right? Jenny's gonna come after me if you wide up six feet under, you hear?”

“Yah, boss, she’ll be commin’ afta ya…as is…”

The dingy white rusted car was in sight and he huffed out a little in relief. The nearby Office building, more official on paper from the owners of the dock, was closed up. So far the windows remained intact for years, something Hood felt was absurd given how many gang wars happened on the dock. With his gaze on it, it was all it took to see the small reflection in one of the darkened windows. It was a reaction, shoving Bobby and Dick to the ground with all his might. They fell with sudden yells but he was already spinning around and pulling out his gun. 

His gear was better than anything they had going on, and the flash of the gun lit up his visor but he’d already pulled the trigger. The spray flew off to the side before it died out, body on the ground unmoving. He huffed, adrenaline pumping through his ears at just how close he came, how close Dick was to-

“You’re hit!” Dick was saying, hands at his thigh.

“Huh?” Hood said, snapping out of whatever daze he’d been in. Dick was alive, alive and ripping at his pants. “What the hell?!”

“Got another one of those bandages? Or two? No, the bullets are there-lodged. Hurry!”

Hood fumbled for another when he realized it’d hurt to bend. His hip and side must’ve been hit or grazed and he handed over the bandage while he verified he’d taken one in the gut opposite Bobby. 

“Fuck!”

“Don’t move yet,” Dick was saying, already moving to his waist. “It’s pulled the kevlar in with it. You need to get to a hospital.”

“Like I don’t fuckin’ know!” he growled, pushing Dick away from him. Those baby blues were pleading at him, begging him. He didn’t have time to think about it, hissing as he crouched down to check on Bobby. The lug’s chest was rising and falling, still alive but clearly passed out from the likely final blow to his noggin and Hood grunted in pain trying to lift him. Dick was swiftly at their side, helping carry their weight and getting him into the backseat.

Hood slammed the door and hotwired it, grateful the old piece of shit rumbled to life. Sirens were sounded off in the distance, blue and red flashing against the smog settled down around the light pollution of the city. It was just his damn luck, and as soon as Dick was in the passenger seat, hightailed it as best he could. There were three entrances to the dock, and the first one was already close to the flashing lights from far off.

He gambled, taking on the second, closer but could get him out into a busy side of town faster once he got out from under the nearby overpass where the homeless had set up camp. What he didn’t count on was a spike strip just out the entrance. The car veered off, blown tires giving their position away with flying sparks and screeching rims. The fight for control took every ounce of his effort, the peel of sirens closing in as he took off for the underpass to ditch the car and disappear in the crowd.

He slammed to a stop, barely missing another concrete divider before he was out and pulling Bobby from the back. Dick didn’t look as convinced with the plan, glancing around with a pinched expression that reminded him of the last time they’d fought brother blood together.

“You gonna gawk or help?” Hood yelled, snapping Dick out of his thoughts.

“I’ll tell them I’m escaping away and point them in the wrong direction. It’ll give you enough time to get away. They’ll see I’m just a civilian, they’ll see my history, they’ll trust me once they figure it out.”

“Are you some kind of idiot? Gotham PD usually shoots first!”

“I know, but at this rate, the two of you aren’t moving fast enough.”

“Why are you doing this?” He asked, incredulous as Dick came around the car and gripped his shoulder.

“I owe you twice now. I may not have liked to see those men killed but you saved my life back there.”

“You don’t owe me shit,” he retorted, knocking Dick’s arm away. “And I didn’t save shit. I protected my man, not you.”

Dick looked at him hard, peering up like he could see through his helmet and into his soul. It made his skin crawl, made his stomach flip, made him-

“I don’t think you’re a bad guy.”

“Bad guy? What are you, five? Don’t act like you fucking know me!” he yelled in a hushed voice.

“Maybe we can change that,” Dick said, backing away a few steps, glancing at the flash of lights against the concrete wall nearby. The cops were closing in, speakers on their car screaming for them to get out, hands up the whole rigmarole. It was enough to make him scoff, disbelieving that Dick would want to know him as Dick Grayson at all. Why hadn’t he shown up as Nightwing? 

“You must’a been one hell of a corrupt fucking cop.”

“No, just one that’s trying to make a difference when the system is rigged,” Dick said, flashing his trademark smile. “Go!”

Hood cursed again, shaking his head as Dick suddenly took off away from them, hands in the air after he passed out into the open. He could've gotten shot on the spot for it, but as soon as he realized Dick was going to be alright, he turned and covered as much ground as he could with Bobby hanging over him loose.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Hood was pacing back and forth. His thigh was barely aching these days, bearing the weight of his hard thunderous walk. Even his fingers twitched in anticipation of something. After his run in with Batman and Nightwing, he was pretty certain Dick Grayson was never going to fulfill his nonsense statements, that was until he’d gotten a sealed letter through Bobby three months later.

“He come ‘round the hospital a few times an’ gave a hellos. Even gave Jenny a fancy basket with all kinds of things init. He said not ta tell yas, but just didn’t seem right, but now ‘suppose it don’t matter considering he’s askin’ afta yas.”

“You can go, I’ll be gone a few days, but if you see anyone acting up, you spread the word. I’m still watching. I’ll be back.”

“Yessire, I’ll lets ‘em know,” Bobby said, waving before he left.

Hood pulled up the letter and read it again and again, trying to extract any and every kind of meaning he could get out of it. Dick wanted to meet on a rooftop of a library and the letter sent all kinds of thoughts through his head. Was it a trap? Had he figured him out? Why a library? Why now? It didn’t give him much time to make his mind up, but maybe that’s how Dick wanted it, easier to trap with a limited time window. He straightened out the crinkles, folding it back up and shoved the letter in his back pocket before he started checking over his gear.

It’d put him at a disadvantage if he had to face all three of the bats, but he at least had the upper hand knowledge of knowing the library’s surrounding area like the back of his hand. His thoughts were an unruly companion as he took off into the night in a blaze of rumbling mechanics, bike closing the distance between him and whatever twisted fate that demanded he go see just why Dick called for him now. It was better to rip off the bandage than let it fester. He’d been distracted enough as it was, Dick’s words replaying in his head, looking for some kind of unknown reason why he’d put himself at risk like an idiot. Like he cared.

He killed the engine to his bike a block out, stowing it away and grappling up to the roofline. The night was clear and bright enough he could see from his surroundings that the trap had at least not been set up from the side he was at. With his visor zooming his view in, he crouched along the roofline looking for anything that stuck out. Slowly and carefully he’d made his way to the library, baffled when he realized Dick was truly alone, waiting idly with headphones in. At least, it was as idle as Dick ever could be, feet tapping, body moving to the invisible beat in his ear, mouth muttering lyrics as his shoulders twitched and his head bobbed.

He finally landed down nearby, giving one last cursory glance around before he stowed his grappling gun. Dick’s lips spread into a genuine smile, stopping him in his tracks as the shorter man practically skipped to him.

“You actually came!”

Hood felt a little off step, having expected something serious, accusations, demands for information, pleads for him to come back, but Dick was simply looking at him without expectation, like he just wanted to meet him. To help him, most likely. He scoffed and looked away, irritated to no end.

“What do you want?”

“To say hi.”

“There you said it,” he sniped, turning away to leave. Dick reached out and snagged his jacket, stubbornly not letting go as he tried to tug away. “ What ?”

“I’d really like to get to know you. I have a confession to make.”

Hood paused, letting out an exasperated noise before he faced him and crossed his arms expectantly. Dick didn’t let go of his jacket, instead keeping his ground.

“I’ve been looking into you,” Dick began, holding up his free hand to stop Hood from responding.

“I’ve been asking about you. Bobby, Lenny, anyone who happened to be around. I followed you a few times, and I know that sounds…crazy, but the thing is, there’s something about you I just can’t put my finger on-”

“Are you kidding me?”

“What? No. I’m not kidding, I mean it, I-I can’t stop thinking about you!”

It couldn’t be that Dick was this dense, not after their run in, not after he left every obvious clue in the clue book right down in front of his face. He couldn’t stand it, his frustration bubbling out to the point he pulled his helmet off and stared him down expectantly. Instead of recognition he was met with a flush, eyes widened and interested.

“You’re young!” Dick almost accused, his eyes more than obviously falling down to his lips. Hood could feel his own frown deepening, riled up. What more did he need?

“I don’t know what the hell you were expecting-”

“Wow your voice,” Dick said dreamily, closing in the space between them enough that Hood dropped his helmet out of pure unadulterated incredibility. It hit the ground with a bang, but neither of them looked at it.

“Do you hear yourself?”

“I can’t be the first, right? I…I know you kill, and maybe I can convince you to stop-”

“There we go, that’s the rub. You don’t have any idea who the hell you’re talking to, do you?” he spat, grimacing. He had to stop this now, had to show him before he got any more ideas . He reached up as Dick went to speak, distracting him with the tear of his domino off his face. His skin was raw where it’d pulled, stinging against the small breeze.

“I’ve never seen eyes like yours before,” Dick murmured, drifting even closer, hands climbing up his chest, “and your hair…”

Jason felt his guard falling down, throat choked up. Even now, Dick had no idea who he was, or he was playing him for the fool. It was too convincing, the enamored way Dick reached up to touch at the white of his hair like it was a beacon to his fingers. Suddenly his heart was wreaking havoc in his chest for a whole new reason and he snapped his hand up, getting a gasp from him.

“You don’t want this,” Hood said, voice dropping low as Dick met his gaze, “we couldn’t be further apart in this life.”

“I think we’re closer than you know,” Dick quipped back softly, playfully. Somehow his lips were getting closer, the red of his tongue pulling him down as it wet his lips, or was it Dick was rising up to meet him.

A ring sounded, and Jason blinked, suddenly aware he was exposed on the rooftop seconds from kissing. He yanked away, domino smashed into place as Dick frowned and pulled up his phone.

“Crap…” Dick groaned and busied himself texting while Hood grabbed up his hood and shoved it safely in place. He looked around, pulling his own phone out to see a flood of texts from his contact two states up. As he took off to leave Dick’s voice caught his attention.

“Hey! Let me have your number at least!” Dick said, running up to his side. He’d snatched his phone before he could protest, number typed in and a contact picture taken before it was dropped into his stunned hands.

“Don’t forget to reply,” Dick said, waving exuberantly, cheeks flushed as he ran off to the rooftop exit like a normal person. It was absurd. Just as absurd as the fresh message lighting up his screen.

[What should I call you? Mr. Hood?]

Jason looked around before he focused on the text. Slowly he typed, letter by letter, a wild absurdity in his fingers. He hovered over the button and licked his lips. It was an all or nothing kind of bet, and Jason wasn’t so sure if the odds were in his favor.

[Jason]