Not In Our Stars (DC Comics, PG-13)
Apr. 30th, 2005 12:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
browngirl(I have a piece of hobbitfic coming up tomorrow, FWIW)
Title: Not In Our Stars
Rating: PG-13 (not so much for what they're doing but for who's doing it.)
Pairing: Batman/Robin II [Bruce/Jason]
Spoilers/Info: If you don't know who Garzonas is, look here: http://evenrobins.net/info/postcrisisjason/biography.html
Warning: Relative ages, among other things.
Dedication: to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monkeycrackmary, because I'm a huge fangirl of hers through not just one but two fandoms; she continually goes places and does good things in them.
Many Many Thanks to:jamjar for the awesome beta.
When Jason comes down for breakfast the next morning, he has a bright smile on his face and a hardcover library book in his hand. "Good morning, Master Jason," says Alfred, pouring tea. "What topic meets with your perusal today?"
Even as Jason rolls his eyes, his grin widens. "Astronomy, Alfie. I'm reading about comets for a report. They're actually kinda interesting. Did you know Halley's Comet is on the, the--- dammit, you know, the tapestry of William the Conqueror conquering England?"
"The Bayeaux Tapestry," Bruce says. He does not say "and watch your language," because Jason is still smiling that wide beautiful smile. Bruce shuts his mouth on any potential reprimand, because if Jason's face closes up again he will look just as he did when Bruce asked him what happened with Garzonas, and Bruce will have to ask again, will need to know.
He would rather see Jason smile.
Jason smiles as he ruffles through the book, too impatient to use the index. "Yeah, that. It's in here. They put it on there because they thought comets brought disaster, or were signs of it, or something. In fact the word 'disaster' originally meant 'bad star', as in, comet!"
Alfred nods, smiling proudly; Jason looks vibrantly embarrassed and shakes his head. "I sound like a dork," he says self-consciously, before his grin tilts to something a little vicious. "Good thing all the punks at school know not to mess with me."
Bruce should reply "Don't get into fights," but instead he watches Jason half-unconsciously flex one solid arm, and thinks of the boy's flight and impact into the face of a mugger, his flashing white grin and whirling yellow cape as he took out four thugs while Batman merely supervised. Alfred's glance is more felt than seen, and as he mildly responds, "It would not do, Master Jason, to gain a reputation as a bruiser," the line of his shoulders is its own rebuke, one meant for Bruce.
Bruce knows. He knows what he should say, what he should have said. But instead he watches Jason shrug and smile, lifting his teacup and turning back to the book, and he says nothing
Breakfast passes in companionable quiet, as Bruce reads his newspaper and Jason his book; or rather, as Jason eats and reads, Bruce merely scans the lines of text without processing them and listens to the boy flip pages and hum, chuckle and chew. When Bruce rises from the table, Jason hurriedly stuffs the last bite of toast into his mouth and follows. Bruce sets a pace that would easily allow him to catch up, but Jason walks quietly behind him, as if Bruce knows where they're going.
They arrive in the library; Jason shuts the doors behind them and draws a deep breath, and his voice is pitched low. "Bruce, I... I wanted to talk to you about yesterday."
Bruce nods and settles in a chair. "Sit down, then."
Jason shakes his head, but not defiantly. "Nah. I... Bruce. I didn't push that ass--- I didn't push Garzonas, OK? God knows he deserved worse, but I didn't. I know, you taught me, better than that." Jason steps closer; the library is dim even in daylight, setting off the gleam of his eyes. "I'm sorry I took off, but I was pissed off that you even thought it, you know?" Another step, so close their knees almost touch. "Bruce, you do believe me, right?"
Bruce stares into Jason's earnest, blue, lovely eyes. He doesn't know himself if he believes. The man's falling scream, Robin's expressionless gaze as he watched.... Bruce ought to question the boy, instruct him, scold him. He should acknowledge the apology, grant Jason its due, make it clear that a repeat of the incident will not be tolerated. He should....
Bruce's hands settle either side of Jason's waist, rucking up the T-shirt, stroking skin over muscle; Bruce's mouth forms the one word that matters. "Jay."
Jason exhales, and grins, and leans forward as Bruce helplessly pulls, his book falling unheeded to the carpet, his hard young hands taut on Bruce's shoulders. Jason's lips part over Bruce's, and his eyes, falling closed, shine like comets.
Title: Not In Our Stars
Rating: PG-13 (not so much for what they're doing but for who's doing it.)
Pairing: Batman/Robin II [Bruce/Jason]
Spoilers/Info: If you don't know who Garzonas is, look here: http://evenrobins.net/info/postcrisisjason/biography.html
Warning: Relative ages, among other things.
Dedication: to
monkeycrackmary, because I'm a huge fangirl of hers through not just one but two fandoms; she continually goes places and does good things in them. Many Many Thanks to:
jamjar for the awesome beta.When Jason comes down for breakfast the next morning, he has a bright smile on his face and a hardcover library book in his hand. "Good morning, Master Jason," says Alfred, pouring tea. "What topic meets with your perusal today?"
Even as Jason rolls his eyes, his grin widens. "Astronomy, Alfie. I'm reading about comets for a report. They're actually kinda interesting. Did you know Halley's Comet is on the, the--- dammit, you know, the tapestry of William the Conqueror conquering England?"
"The Bayeaux Tapestry," Bruce says. He does not say "and watch your language," because Jason is still smiling that wide beautiful smile. Bruce shuts his mouth on any potential reprimand, because if Jason's face closes up again he will look just as he did when Bruce asked him what happened with Garzonas, and Bruce will have to ask again, will need to know.
He would rather see Jason smile.
Jason smiles as he ruffles through the book, too impatient to use the index. "Yeah, that. It's in here. They put it on there because they thought comets brought disaster, or were signs of it, or something. In fact the word 'disaster' originally meant 'bad star', as in, comet!"
Alfred nods, smiling proudly; Jason looks vibrantly embarrassed and shakes his head. "I sound like a dork," he says self-consciously, before his grin tilts to something a little vicious. "Good thing all the punks at school know not to mess with me."
Bruce should reply "Don't get into fights," but instead he watches Jason half-unconsciously flex one solid arm, and thinks of the boy's flight and impact into the face of a mugger, his flashing white grin and whirling yellow cape as he took out four thugs while Batman merely supervised. Alfred's glance is more felt than seen, and as he mildly responds, "It would not do, Master Jason, to gain a reputation as a bruiser," the line of his shoulders is its own rebuke, one meant for Bruce.
Bruce knows. He knows what he should say, what he should have said. But instead he watches Jason shrug and smile, lifting his teacup and turning back to the book, and he says nothing
Breakfast passes in companionable quiet, as Bruce reads his newspaper and Jason his book; or rather, as Jason eats and reads, Bruce merely scans the lines of text without processing them and listens to the boy flip pages and hum, chuckle and chew. When Bruce rises from the table, Jason hurriedly stuffs the last bite of toast into his mouth and follows. Bruce sets a pace that would easily allow him to catch up, but Jason walks quietly behind him, as if Bruce knows where they're going.
They arrive in the library; Jason shuts the doors behind them and draws a deep breath, and his voice is pitched low. "Bruce, I... I wanted to talk to you about yesterday."
Bruce nods and settles in a chair. "Sit down, then."
Jason shakes his head, but not defiantly. "Nah. I... Bruce. I didn't push that ass--- I didn't push Garzonas, OK? God knows he deserved worse, but I didn't. I know, you taught me, better than that." Jason steps closer; the library is dim even in daylight, setting off the gleam of his eyes. "I'm sorry I took off, but I was pissed off that you even thought it, you know?" Another step, so close their knees almost touch. "Bruce, you do believe me, right?"
Bruce stares into Jason's earnest, blue, lovely eyes. He doesn't know himself if he believes. The man's falling scream, Robin's expressionless gaze as he watched.... Bruce ought to question the boy, instruct him, scold him. He should acknowledge the apology, grant Jason its due, make it clear that a repeat of the incident will not be tolerated. He should....
Bruce's hands settle either side of Jason's waist, rucking up the T-shirt, stroking skin over muscle; Bruce's mouth forms the one word that matters. "Jay."
Jason exhales, and grins, and leans forward as Bruce helplessly pulls, his book falling unheeded to the carpet, his hard young hands taut on Bruce's shoulders. Jason's lips part over Bruce's, and his eyes, falling closed, shine like comets.
