It was less than a week before Jason found himself at Dick's door again, once again completely without an excuse.

It didn't even seem to occur to Dick to ask why he was there, though, he just smiled at him like Jason had made his whole day just by showing up and invited him in, asking what he wanted on his half of the pizza.

Jason was briefly taken-aback by the unhesitating, open welcome, but he followed Dick inside.

He felt like he should have been more surprised an hour later when he ended up once again stuck with a sleeping Dick on his shoulder. Instead he was...distressingly pleased.

Oh. Oh.

Oh no. No no no. That did not bode well. Jason did not like these thoughts at all. He did not like them one bit. 

Because a certain idea was starting to take shape in his head, that maybe this, this...excessive admiration, and all this wanting to be around Dick maybe...meant something. Something like oh shit I might've caught feelings.

"What the fuck?" he said out loud. But no, seriously, what the fuck. What part of his brain had given that shit the green light?! Jason had not at any point consented to having feelings and he was starting to find that he maybe actually resented the whole idea, thank you very much.

Dick roused at his voice. "Y'okay?" he asked, picking up his head slightly.

"Yeah. Uh. Yeah." No. Not at all.

Dick settled his head back on Jason's shoulder. Fuck. Fuck. Now that Jason had opened his eyes, he could see that yeah, he really wanted to run his fingers through Dick's hair and hold his hand and— fuck, no, no this was bad, very bad, very, very bad. It would be one thing if he'd just wanted to fuck Dick, then he could pretend he just needed to get it out of his system, but no, this was fucking soft shit. Ugh. Jason Todd did not hold hands!

Jason Todd very badly wanted to hold hands.

He closed his eyes. Ah fuck, what to do, what to do, what to do. His impulse was to bolt, and fuck if he had any other ideas right now, so hasta luego, feelings. Surely they wouldn't be able to catch him if he ran fast enough.

"I need to go," Jason blurted out.

Dick picked up his head again, looking soft and sleepy and gorgeous, and it made Jason's head spin a little. "What? But you're so comfy," he whined, leaning heavily against him.

Oh, murderer! Murderer! This man had blood on his hands! Jason's blood! He was going to fucking kill him at this rate — a slow, slow, painful death.

"Yeah, um, it's getting late, so...gotta go."

"Okay, let me walk you out then," Dick shifted away.

Jason stood, following Dick to the door.

"Okay, well—" he started, only to cut himself off as Dick hugged him. Goddamned cuddler. (Fuck if he didn't feel good in Jason's arms, though).

"We should do this again sometime," Dick said.

"Yeah, sure." Like hell. Nice try, feelings — they wouldn't be catching him that easily.

Jason let himself out.

• ◇ •

Dick's plans were working better than he'd even hoped. And then they weren't.

Jason had come to him once again before Dick had even had the chance to take matters into his own hands, and he'd once again let Dick cuddle up against him without complaint, but then out of nowhere something had seemed to spook him.

When he'd excused himself hastily, Dick had been confused, but thought maybe it wasn't important, but then Jason just hadn't shown up again. Dick had given him two weeks now and he hadn't seen hide or hair of him. Which meant it was time for Dick to take matters into his own hands.