A Matter of Time

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/46068877.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red
Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Batman (Comics), Green Arrow (Comics)
Relationship: Roy Harper/Jason Todd
Character: Jason Todd, Roy Harper, Dick Grayson
Additional Tags: Pining, Canon Compliant, (mostly), Hand Jobs, Frottage, no beta we die
like robins
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-03-28 Words: 8931

A Matter of Time
by poisonivory

Summary

Or, Jason Todd’s Three Five Ten Year Plan to Make Roy Harper Love Him

Jason meets his brother's best friend when he's fifteen years old, and comes up with a plan.
It takes a few years - and a few reboots - to come to fruition.

Notes

See the end of the work for notes

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?” Jason asked as Dick pulled open the door of the club,
letting noise and heat spill out.

“Oh, sure,” Dick said, giving him a reassuring smile. “One Friday a month is College Night and all
of the underclassmen are underage, so they won’t card you. They don’t even have the bar open
tonight, except for soda.”

That wasn’t really what Jason had meant, but he followed his predecessor—brother?—into the club
without arguing.

They didn’t hang out very often. Dick hadn’t been in Gotham much since Jason had moved into
Wayne Manor three years ago. When he was around, he ran hot and cold. Sometimes he was really
cool, showing Jason new martial arts moves and telling him all about leading the Titans in New
York. Other times, Jason couldn’t help feeling like Dick didn’t even like him, or resented him or
something, like maybe the fact that Dick was pretty much always mad at Bruce meant that he was
mad at Jason, too.

So he hadn’t expected it when Dick had called last night and asked if Jason could skip patrol, or
join it late, because Dick’s friend’s band was playing a club in Gotham and Dick wanted Jason to
come. It sounded like the band had been on tour for a while, so Jason wouldn’t have been surprised
if Dick wanted to hang out with his friend alone afterwards, not have his successor—brother?—
tagging along.

But right now Dick seemed perfectly happy to have Jason around, so Jason wasn’t going to
question it. He hadn’t gotten the Robin gig by being dumb.

He’d been in nightclubs before, of course, but always with Bruce and in uniform, chasing some
mobster or another. It was pretty crowded inside, mostly with what Jason guessed were college
kids, though he did spot a few seniors from his high school. At fifteen, though, he was probably
still the youngest person there. He couldn’t decide whether that was cool or embarrassing.

“You want a soda or something?” Dick asked, leading Jason over to the bar. Jason followed,
spotting a guy wearing a shirt made entirely of safety pins and wondering if he should have worn
something other than a white Oxford under a red sweater.

Dick had just finished paying for their Zestis when the speakers playing “Addicted to Love” cut
out and a staccato drumbeat rattled through the club. Dick brightened. “Hey, they’re starting!” he
said, pressing one of the sodas into Jason’s hand and grabbing his other wrist. “Come on, let’s get
up front.”

Jason flushed hot, tugging his wrist out of Dick’s grip before anyone could see his older brother (?)
holding his hand. “I can walk,” he hissed. There were seniors from his school here!

Dick rolled his eyes but didn’t insist, making his way to the stage and letting Jason follow on his
own. Dick’s friend’s band didn’t seem to be much of a draw—only about half of the people in the
club were heading in that direction, maybe less. Jason frowned. How bad of a night was he in for?

A wailing guitar and bass had joined the drums, followed by a singer with a sob in his voice,
warbling out something about hail. Dick and Jason pushed through the kids dancing in front of the
stage, and Jason looked up.

There were four of them: a singer in a weird fringed jacket, and three other guys on instruments.
Dick pointed to the drummer, a redhead in a Star City Rockets t-shirt.

“That’s Roy,” he yelled over the music. “My friend from…you know.”

“I know,” Jason said with a huff. Dick had already told him that Roy Harper was also Speedy of
the Teen Titans, and Jason had seen enough photos and news stories about the Titans to know that
Speedy had red hair.

Roy saw Dick pointing and grinned at them, and Dick waved back. Jason shoved his hands into his
pockets, feeling suddenly out of place, and averted his eyes from Roy to take in the show as a
whole.

The band—“Great Frog,” according to the logo on Roy’s bass drum—was…okay. They reminded
Jason a bit of the Led Zeppelin and Doors songs his mom had liked to listen to, but not as good.
Like maybe whoever had written the songs also liked Led Zeppelin and the Doors, at least enough
to try to copy them.

But the singer was decent, and the kids around Jason and Dick were dancing, and gradually Jason
relaxed enough to sort of bop along to the beat himself.

He let his eyes come back to Roy. He’d never have guessed the drummer was a superhero if he
hadn’t already known. Superheroes, to Jason’s mind, were serious, like Dick was most of the time
and Bruce all of the time. Roy seemed anything but serious, with his shaggy hair and reckless grin.
The only clue that he might be something more than a happy-go-lucky musician was his biceps,
thick enough around to strain the sleeves of his t-shirt.

He was also sweating through the t-shirt. It was pretty hot in the club; Jason was feeling warmer
and warmer.

The song ended, and Jason took his hands out of his pockets to applaud along with the rest of the
audience. “Thank you, Gotham!” the singer shouted into the mic. “We are Great Frog, coming to
you all the way from Star City!”

Dick cupped his hands around his mouth and cheered. Roy laughed and pointed a drumstick at
him. Jason wondered if Roy knew Jason was with Dick. Had Dick said he was bringing his
younger brother to the show? Had he talked to Roy about Jason?

The singer was still talking. “...tell me, Gotham City, are you ready to turn up the heat?”

This time Jason cheered along with everyone else. The guitarist and bassist started playing, but
Roy set down his drumsticks for a minute and whipped off his shirt, revealing a pale, freckled
chest and shoulders and lean, defined abs. He dropped the shirt to the floor, tossed that too-long
hair out of his eyes, and picked his drumsticks back up.

Then he looked directly at Jason and winked.

Jason’s entire body flushed hot as some girls behind him started screaming. Next to him, Dick
chuckled. “That’s Roy for you,” he said, but his voice sounded like it was coming from far away.
“Never could keep his clothes on.”

Jason bit the inside of his cheek, hard. Roy was drumming again, the muscles in his arms rippling
as he did, gleaming with sweat in the flickering lights of the club. Strands of red hair stuck to his
cheeks and forehead, dark-damp with perspiration.

Jason was sweating, too.

He wasn’t sure how long Great Frog’s set was. He was dimly aware of Dick trying to talk to him a
couple of times, but all he could pay attention to was his burning cheeks and clammy palms, and
the way his heart was doing its best to keep up with Roy’s rapid drumbeat. When the show finally
ended, he cheered until his throat hurt, as if that would make them stay longer, play more.

Notice him.

“I take it you liked the show?” Dick asked, his voice coming back into focus as the band left the
stage.

“Oh, uh. Yeah.” Hopefully it was too dark for Dick to see how flushed Jason was.

“Cool. Come on, let’s go say hi to Roy.”

Jason’s heart stuttered like the drums were still playing. “What?”

Dick jerked his chin toward the door the band had disappeared behind. “I told Roy I was bringing
you to the show and he said to come backstage after so I could introduce you guys. You don’t
mind, do you?”

He was smiling as he said it. Jason watched him carefully, unsure if it was an innocent question, or
if Dick had picked up on his reaction during the concert and was teasing him. Innocent, he thought.
Probably.

“No,” he said, trying to sound like Bruce at his most dispassionate. “I don’t mind.”

Dick’s smile widened. “Great. Come on!”

If Jason had harbored any illusions that backstage at a downtown Gotham club would be in any
way impressive, they were quickly dashed. The door led into a narrow, dingy hallway, with several
half-open, unmarked doors along it.

“Roy!” Dick called. “Where are you?”

“Yo!” a voice called back from behind one of the doors.

Dick followed the sound, and Jason followed Dick, into an equally dingy room. In the back of his
mind, Jason’s Robin training cataloged that the room contained a stained couch, a vanity with half
of the lights blown out, and a case of water bottles. All the front of his mind cared about was that it
also contained Roy.

“Dick!” Roy said, standing up and holding out his arms for a hug. “You came!”

Dick held up his hands, laughing. “Oh no,” he said. “You are dripping with sweat. Save the hug
until after you’ve at least toweled off.”

“You’re such a killjoy,” Roy said, but he was grinning.

Then he turned that sharp grin on Jason. Up close, it hit like a two-by-four.

“What about you, Jay?” he asked. “Is the new Boy Wonder a little less afraid to get dirty than the
old one?”

His arms were still open, the lines between his shoulders and biceps sharply defined. He was pink
with heat and slippery with sweat. An earring glinted in his ear.

“You’re such a pest. You just met him,” Dick said fondly. “Jay, this is my dear friend Roy Harper.
Please feel free to punch him in the neck.”

Jason’s gaze dropped to Roy’s neck, flushed and gleaming. He didn’t want to punch it, but he did
desperately want to touch it. He probably couldn’t get away with that, but…

He shrugged, hoping it looked casual and not desperately eager. “Sure, I can handle a little sweat,”
he said.

“Yes! I found the fun one!” Roy crowed, and swept him up in a laughing hug while Dick groaned.
He was strong and extremely warm and this might have been a mistake. Jason returned the hug
tentatively, his palms on Roy’s bare back, and made sure to keep a safe distance between their
lower bodies.

It was both a disappointment and a relief when Roy let go. Dick promptly tossed a towel at his
head.
“Get dressed, you nudist,” he said. “Jason and I are taking you out to dinner.” He looked at Jason.
“Okay, Jay? Will it be an issue with Bruce?”

Jason glanced at Roy, who was mopping up his sweat with the towel. His cheeks were still blazing
hot, and he either needed to think very hard about math or take a bathroom break or he was going to
embarrass himself. But even if Bruce had shown up in full Bat-regalia right now, Jason wasn’t
leaving.

“It’ll be fine,” he said. “Let’s go to dinner.”

He wanted to spend time with Roy. He wanted to find out what he liked, what he hated, what he
loved. He wanted to make him laugh again.

He wasn’t stupid enough to think he had a shot now. He was only fifteen, and Roy was Dick’s age
—twenty. Roy wasn’t going to be interested in him when he was still underage.

But someday, Jason wouldn’t be underage anymore. And then maybe…maybe he might have a
chance.

That was just three years from now. He could wait.

Five Years Later

“I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt here, Jason,” Dick growled as they waited on the rooftop.
“If you double cross us, if you put the Outsiders in danger…”

“Wow, you really perfected the big scary Bat voice there, didn’t you?” Jason drawled. “The old
man teach you that himself, or did it just develop naturally along with the stick up your ass?”

“I mean it, Hood,” Dick snapped.

“A minute ago I was ‘Jason,’” Jason said. “So much for brotherly love.”

Not that he cared. He’d reached out to Dick because he’d found out that Black Lightning was in jail
on a false murder rap, and he didn’t like the idea of the innocent being punished any more than he
liked the idea of the guilty going free. It wasn’t about trying to worm his way into the family’s
good graces, or bury the hatchet with Dick, or anything like that.

It wasn’t.

Which was probably for the best, because it turned out that Dick trusted him so little that he was
bringing in the actual leader of the Outsiders to vet him. Roy Harper, formerly Speedy, now going
by Arsenal, and also not the reason Jason had brought his information to Dick and not Bruce or
Barbara.

Really.

Anyway, now Jason was freezing his balls off on a Manhattan roof while Dick bitched at him,
which just went to show that no good deed went unpunished. The minute this was over, he was
going right back to crime bossing.

A faint noise had them both turning towards it, Dick shifting into a fighting stance and Jason
raising his guns. “Stand down,” Dick said an instant later, as the figure that had made the noise
came into view. “It’s Arsenal.”

Arsenal. Somewhere in the back of Jason’s mind, even though he knew better, he’d still been
picturing the shirtless, smiling twenty-year-old he’d first met, red hair flopping into his eyes,
glowing with sweat and satisfaction.

This was not that boy.

Roy Harper had filled out, broader through the chest and shoulders, though still tapering to a trim
waist and hips. He wasn’t as big as Jason was, in this strange adult body Jason had woken up in a
year ago, but he still gave the overall impression of size and power and authority. His bright hair
had been buzzed short, highlighting the sharp, angular planes of his face. His new uniform was
muted, brick red and black with a matching jacket draped over it, but the kevlar shirt and pants still
fit like a second skin.

Jason swallowed behind his helmet.

“Arsenal,” Dick said, stepping forward. “Thanks for coming. This…” He sighed. “This is the Red
Hood.”

Jason blinked. Had Dick not told Roy who he really was? He’d always assumed that the minute
Dick had found out the truth, he’d been on the phone crying to all of his little super friends about
what a disappointment the brother he’d never wanted had turned out to be.

Roy nodded at Jason. “Hey there, Jay,” he said. “You’ve…grown.”

Jason’s whole body flushed hot. He was suddenly immensely grateful that the helmet hid his face.

“Arsenal,” he said. Oh yes, the voice modulator; that was another thing to be thankful for. He
sounded completely unmoved. “You’ve discovered sleeves.”

Roy snorted, clearly amused, and Jason fought the urge to pump his fist. He’d made Roy laugh.
Sort of. Almost.

Jesus Christ, Todd, get it together. He wasn’t fifteen anymore, and he didn’t have time to wallow
in the memory of a stupid adolescent crush. Especially when he’d barely even known the guy in
the first place. One shitty concert and a late-night meal at a diner afterwards; one mission to
Switzerland with the Teen Titans. That was it.

That was it, and then he’d died. After coming back from the dead, after the Lazarus Pit, after
training for months to challenge Batman and the batarang to the throat he’d gotten in response…
no. The boy who’d blushed himself lightheaded when Roy Harper had hugged him was gone.
Jason was someone else now.

Still, he couldn’t help wondering exactly what Roy meant by grown.

“Okay, run me through this,” Roy said. “Dick gave me the highlights, but I want to hear it from
you.”

“Right,” Jason said, and proceeded to share what he’d overheard about Black Lightning. He
couldn’t help shifting his position as he talked, the full force of Roy’s attention making him hyper
aware of his posture. Did he look casually insouciant? Or solid and un-fuck-with-able? And which
was better?

No. It didn’t matter.

Roy rubbed his chin. He’d grown a soul patch, which was objectively awful, but Jason couldn’t
look away from how it highlighted the fullness of his lower lip. “Jeez. Anissa’s gonna hate this,”
he said. “Her dad’s been framed for murder.”

“She’ll probably hate it less than having an actual murderer in the family,” Dick muttered.

“Listen, Dickface, if that’s a fucking dig at me—” Jason started, turning on him.

“Whoa, whoa, hey!” Roy stepped between them, a hand on each of their chests, seemingly
unbothered by the fact that Jason had a couple inches on him and was heavily armed. “I am not
getting in the middle of your Bat shit, okay? This is about Jeff. You two want to fight, you can do it
on your own time.”

“Roy, you know what he—” Dick started.

“I don’t care,” Roy said. “Right now, all I care about is that my friend’s father is serving a life
sentence for a crime he didn’t commit. If Jason can help us fix that, I’m cool with him.” He
glanced at Jason. “No killing on this job, though. Deal?”

Jason swallowed again. “Deal.”

It was ridiculous to think he could feel the heat of Roy’s palm through Roy’s glove, his own
kevlar, and his compression shirt. It was ridiculous to wonder if Roy could feel how fast his heart
was beating.

But Roy hadn’t taken Dick’s side. He hadn’t automatically dismissed Jason. He wasn’t treating
him like he was a monster.

Jason had done his research. Roy had worked for the government. He’d been a professional sniper.
No one came out of a job like that with clean hands.

He was also a father, which Jason had known before he went into the grave; he’d been there when
Cheshire had told Roy about his child. Cheshire, who’d been up to some very nasty things in the
years Jason had been…gone. Cheshire, who Roy had still visited regularly in prison up until
recently. If Roy could forgive that…

Jason still had work to do. He’d given up the idea of killing any of the Bats—well, unless they
really pissed him off—but that didn’t mean he’d finished what he’d come to Gotham to
accomplish. And it was probably better to give Roy some time to get used to the idea of him as
who he was now, and not his friend’s dead little brother who came back wrong. As someone
who’d grown.

He’d give himself a year. What had he thought when he was fifteen? That he had three years to
wait? Well, four had passed quickly enough, considering he’d been dead or unconscious or
basically a zombie for a lot of them. What was one more?

And then he’d show Roy Harper just how grown he was.

Two Years Later

Roy had looked better, Jason had to admit.

He was filthy in his prison uniform, his face bloody and bruised. His red hair hung past his chin,
matted and tangled. One eye was blackened.

But it was more than that. He seemed…lesser, somehow, whittled down. Maybe it was the massive
guards behind him that made him look so small, or maybe it was the way he had to hunch to carry
the massive metal ball that was chained to his wrist. Maybe they’d just been starving him.

Or maybe Jason was too late, and he’d given up.

Roy squinted in the harsh sunlight. “Sunlight. There’s something I don’t see every day. Not lately,
anyway.” He glanced at the guards. “What’s the occasion, guys?”

The occasion was that Jason had learned that Roy Harper, codename Arsenal, was about to be
executed in Qurac for trying to do the right thing. He’d immediately dropped everything he was
doing, reached out to the only ally he had who would also give a damn about Roy, and flown
halfway around the world to save the man’s life. No meticulous plans, no ulterior motives. He’d
just needed to save him.

But if this place had truly managed to crush Roy’s spirit, maybe he was too late.

Jason stepped up, hiding any second guessing behind his disguise, and explained that he was a
pastor sent to hear Roy’s confession. The minute the guards looked away, he opened the bible he
was carrying. It had probably been a sin to hollow out the pages in order to fit Roy’s collapsed bow
inside, but Jason had long since passed up his chance at heaven anyway.

Roy stared at the gleaming red fiberglass, then back up at Jason. “Is that really my bow?” he
whispered.

Jason nodded, just barely.

Roy looked back down at the bow. “You realize this is totally insane, right?”

But when he lifted his gaze to Jason again, the dull, hopeless look was gone from his eyes,
replaced by a familiar spark.

“Amen!” Jason said, remembering his role.

Roy winked at him, and suddenly Jason was fifteen again, flushing hot under the mischief in Roy
Harper’s smile. He shook it off. They had work to do.

The escape was messier than Jason usually liked, but it got them out of the prison and Roy out of
his chains, so it was worth it. If Roy was surprised to see Jason behind the disguise and not one of
his usual Titans buddies, he didn’t question it, just followed Jason’s lead as they stole a Jeep and
hit the road. Kori made one of her usual glorious entrances, and then they were free and clear,
batting the usual empty superhero banter back and forth as they drove off into the sunset.

Jason glanced at Roy out of the corner of his eye as he drove. Roy had his face turned up to the
sky, the wind whipping his filthy hair back from his face. He still looked awful, but Jason’s palms
were sweating in his gloves anyway.

This wasn’t why Jason had rescued him.

He hadn’t been thinking in terms of his old crush when he’d booked his flight to Qurac. He’d only
been thinking about Roy. It probably said something pathetic about Jason, considering they’d only
met three times before, and Roy probably barely remembered any of them. But he couldn’t bear
the thought of Roy’s light going out of the world.
But now Roy was here, close enough to touch, the sunlight bringing out the fading freckles
underneath the blood and grime. And Jason was so nervous he’d babbled some crude bullshit
about Kori instead of anything close to the truth.

Kori, who Roy had watched until she’d disappeared into the distance. Jason had never heard of
anything between the two of them—Kori had always been with Dick, as far as he knew—but Roy
had looked interested in changing that.

It was fine, Jason told himself as they drove. It wasn’t like he’d expected Roy to fall into his arms
with gratitude; that hadn’t been the goal, and honestly, the idea of that kind of quid pro quo made
him feel a little nauseous. Besides, daring last-minute rescues aside, Jason was a planner. He was
good at waiting. He’d been doing it for seven years, hadn’t he?

Three years, he’d said originally. Three years until he could really go after Roy Harper.

Well, seven had passed, and he was no close than he’d been when he started—but he was also
older and wiser. He’d throw another three years on that and round it up to ten, total. That was
plenty of time, and not even embarrassing, considering that he’d set this goal when he was only
fifteen. By his twenty-fifth birthday, Roy Harper would be his.

Now he just had to figure out how.

Two Years Later

The problem was, Jason hadn’t been trained for this.

Bruce had made him a black belt in a dozen martial arts, a skilled escapologist, a forensics expert,
and no mean chemist, either. Talia had helped him add explosives, poisons, and sharpshooting to
his bag of tricks, among other things. Even Alfred had taught him how to bake. He spoke seven
languages, could hotwire any vehicle, and hack into all but the most secure databases.

Somehow, “how to score with a guy he’d had a crush on since sophomore year” hadn’t come into
it.

It didn’t help that somehow, in the years between Qurac and now, he and Roy had become friends.
Best friends. They’d fought side by side; they’d saved each other’s lives more times than Jason
could count. They’d even lived together, until a couple of universe-shaking Crises had returned
Roy’s daughter to him. Now Roy knew where all of Jason’s safehouses were and Jason had the
spare key to Roy’s apartment for when he visited Star City.

Lian called him Uncle Jay. He still wasn’t quite sure how that had happened.

It made Jason’s endgame much more complicated. Before, he hadn’t had much to lose by shooting
his shot. Now he had to get it exactly right, or he risked losing Roy entirely.

His twenty-fourth birthday had really brought it home to him. He only had a year until his deadline,
now—and Jason, like all the Bats, liked to do his homework. Work the problem, Bruce had always
said, though Jason didn’t think this was the sort of problem Bruce had had in mind.

So Jason worked the problem of Roy. He studied his likes and dislikes. He analyzed his past
relationships, his hookups, his apparent preferences in romantic partners. Roy liked dark hair,
which was good for Jason. He liked women with super strength, which was less good. He didn’t
have a problem with murderers—back to the good column. He carried torches for his exes for years
—back to the bad. It made for a crowded field for Jason to slip onto.

Weeks after his birthday, Jason had filled a notebook with careful analysis and dozens of half
thought out strategies, and he was no closer to a plan than he’d been when he started. Maybe he
should go back to trying to blow up the Batmobile. He’d been good at that.

Luckily, Gotham chose that moment to break out into what was an unusually high rate of crime,
even for Jason’s hometown. It kept him running ragged with the rest of the family, and too tired to
keep going around in circles over the Roy problem.

Roy, of course, offered to fly out and help when he’d heard how exhausted Jason was over the
phone, because that was the kind of guy he was. He’d landed tonight and immediately hit the
streets with Jason, and for a few glorious hours it was like the Outlaws had never disbanded, like
they were still together all the time, the way they used to be.

As the sky over the harbor started to lighten with the threat of dawn, they made their way back to
Jason’s preferred safehouse. Roy stretched his arms over his head and groaned in a way that would
have been distracting in the field.

“I always forget how rough you Gothamites play,” he said. “You want first shower? I can make a
pot of tea or something.”

Jason gave him a wry look. “How about you just boil the water? You always oversteep tea when
you make it.”

Roy held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, not all of us were raised by Englishmen.”

Jason snorted and retreated to the bathroom to wash away the blood and grime of a good night’s
work. The drumming of the hot water against his tense muscles was almost as good as having Roy
here; by the time he stepped out of the shower, he felt as warm and relaxed as he ever got.

At least until he opened the bathroom door, towel around his waist, to see Roy frowning
quizzically at a notebook left open on Jason’s desk.

Jason’s heart stopped.

He told himself not to panic. He had a lot of notebooks; he’d always had a weakness for analog. It
could have been his plans to take down Black Mask, or the Joker, or to ferret out the source of the
latest drug making its way into Gotham. It could be anything.

“Hey, Jay?” Roy asked. “Why is this notebook filled with weirdly specific details about all of my
exes?”

Jason opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

Roy’s expression went from puzzled to suspicious. “Jason?”

“I…research?” Jason managed, as if that would help. As if that wouldn’t just dig him in deeper.

Roy snorted. “Research on what? My dick?”

Jason’s face went hot.

Roy blinked. “Are you…are you blushing?” he asked.

His brow furrowed. He was clearly doing the math—and Jason knew from experience that Roy
was very good at math. He watched helplessly, clutching his towel, as Roy looked back down at
the notebook, flipping through the pages.

“List of my favorite foods…I’m guessing this is a list of my favorite colors because it says ‘red’
and ‘dark red,’ which is a little harsh but I guess I can’t argue…okay. This one says ‘concert, tech
expo, laser tag’ and then a bunch of French restaurant names.” He looked back up at Jason. “I’m
only asking this because you can’t possibly be hiding a gun under that towel and therefore can’t
shoot me for it, but…is this a list of date ideas, Jaybird?”

“No,” Jason said, way too quickly.

And Roy…

Roy smiled.

Jason’s heart started rabbiting in his chest as Roy put the notebook down and moved toward Jason.
“Are you sure?” Roy asked, still smiling. “Because I could be wrong here, you Bats think in all
kinds of squirrelly ways, but…that notebook sure makes it seem like you like me.”

Jason scowled, painfully aware that it didn’t hide how red his face was or how fast he was
breathing. “I may not have a gun under this towel, but that doesn’t mean I can’t go get one,
Harper.”

“I mean, you could,” Roy agreed amiably. He was still moving closer. Jason took a step back and
came up against the bathroom door. “But it would put a real damper on our date.”

Jason looked away. He didn’t know what his face was doing right now, but he didn’t want Roy to
see it. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not.” Roy braced his hands against the door, on either side of Jason’s head, and leaned in until
his breath gusted over Jason’s ear. Jason’s own breath caught in his throat. “All you had to do was
ask, Jaybird.”

This was taking a joke way too far. This was cruel…and Roy wasn’t cruel, Jason reminded
himself.

Which meant this was real.

He closed his eyes. “Okay,” he managed, daring to hope—that Roy wasn’t just teasing, that he
hadn’t just fucked everything up beyond repair. “Roy, do you want to go out with me?”

There. He’d said it. After nine years of waiting, and wanting, he’d finally asked Roy Harper out on
a date.

“Later,” Roy said, and Jason’s heart sank in confused disappointment before he felt Roy’s lips
against his jaw. “Right now I want to stay in.”

Jason’s mouth opened on a shaky gasp. Roy’s lips moved along the line of his jaw, heading for his
mouth. Jason turned helplessly toward them.

“Can I kiss you?” Roy murmured.

Somehow it struck Jason as funny, and he had to bite back a hysterical laugh. “Aren’t you doing
that already?”
“Great point,” Roy said. “Well, in that case…”

Jason had fantasized about kissing Roy at age fifteen, and age twenty, and age twenty-two.
Sometimes he’d worried that he was hyping it up too much in his head; that after all that
daydreaming, if he ever got to do it for real, there was no way it would measure up.

He didn’t have to worry anymore. Roy kissed like a man who knew exactly what he wanted; like
there was nowhere he’d rather be than right here, sipping at Jason’s mouth. His tongue pressed hot
and wet against Jason’s lips, and Jason opened for him immediately, instinctively. The pleased
sound Roy let out went straight to Jason’s dick.

Jason lifted his hands to reach for Roy and the towel around his waist slipped. He grabbed at it,
jerking back enough to break the kiss.

Roy grinned when Jason opened his eyes. “You okay there?” he asked, glancing down. Jason
didn’t know if he was referring to Jason’s death grip on the terrycloth or the way his dick was
beginning to visibly tent it.

“Peachy,” Jason grumbled, searching for something to look at that wasn’t Roy’s amusement. His
eyes landed past Roy’s shoulder, on the notebook Roy had left on his desk. “You aren’t, uh…mad?
About the notes?”

“You mean the creepy obsessive ones?” Roy asked. “Jaybird, if I didn’t like creepy and obsessive,
I wouldn’t like you so much.”

Once again, Jason wasn’t sure what his face was doing. “Uh…thank you?”

Roy laughed out loud at that, pressing his face into the curve of Jason’s neck like he needed help
keeping all his happiness in. Jason could relate. He braved letting go of the towel with one hand so
that he could sink his fingers into Roy’s hair. It was as soft as he’d always imagined it would be.

“You’re so welcome,” Roy said finally, straightening up and glancing down again. “Question for
you. Do you want to go put something on so that we can continue this…or do you want to go take
something off so that we can continue this?”

Oh, fuck. Jason’s fingers tightened in Roy’s hair. “The second one.”

Roy beamed and leaned in to give him a firm kiss. “Take me to the bedroom, then.”

He stepped back, giving Jason room to move. Still feeling a little bit like he was probably asleep
and this was a very good dream, Jason let go of Roy’s hair and grabbed his wrist instead, towing
him in the direction of the bedroom.

Once they reached it, he turned to kiss Roy again. He’d leapt across rooftops and faced down
armed criminals tonight, but it was his own daring at being the one to initiate the kiss this time that
had his pulse spiking wildly.

Roy met him eagerly, though, letting out a pleased little hum into Jason’s mouth as his hands
landed on Jason’s waist. Those hands were still in their bracers, and Jason’s brow furrowed at the
reminder that Roy was still fully dressed. His fingers fumbled with Roy’s utility belt, searching for
the clasp.

He felt Roy’s smile against his mouth. “Trying to tell me that I’m overdressed, Jaybird?”

Jason’s cheeks heated up again. “It just seems rude,” he said. “Alfred always said that a guest
should try to match the dress code.”

Roy barked a laugh. “Well, who am I to argue with Alfred?” he asked, and gave Jason a gentle
push towards the bed. “Have a seat and I’ll see what I can do.”

Jason sat on the edge of the mattress, watching as Roy bent to yank off one of his boots.

“Okay, sorry, this part isn’t sexy unless you’re a foot guy,” Roy said, tossing the boot out of the
way and working on the other. “Which I don’t have a lot of experience with, but I can improvise.
No judgment.”

“Uh, no, not particularly into feet,” Jason said as Roy tugged off his socks, too. Though Roy’s
were nice enough, he supposed.

“Got it,” Roy said, straightening up. “What are you into?”

He was working on his bracers now, and Jason’s eyes darted helplessly to the ripple and swell of
his biceps before he met Roy’s gaze again.

Roy winked. “I can work with that, too.”

“Shut up,” Jason managed. “I was looking at the part that was moving.”

He was into Roy’s arms, of course. He was into all of Roy: the broad span of his shoulders; the
sharp line of his hips; the crooked angle of his smile. He could write poetry about the way Roy’s
hair fell over his neck or the place where his nose had been knocked slightly out of true by some
long-ago punch. He was suddenly fervently grateful he hadn’t, because if Roy had found that in
the notebook, Jason would simply have died again.

Roy grinned wider as his utility belt fell to the floor. “You can have any part of me you want,” he
said, and tugged his shirt off.

Jason swallowed hard around the sight of Roy’s pale, toned stomach; his broad chest, lightly
dusted with ginger hairs; the stretch and flex of him. “That just sounds like you’re volunteering to
be dismembered.”

Roy snorted. “As good as you are at dismemberment, I think I’ll skip that option.” He shoved his
pants down, leaving him in only a jockstrap. “Guess you’ll just have to take all of me.”

Jason swallowed hard, fingers digging into the blankets. He wasn’t sure if it was Roy’s words or
the sight of him nearly bare, but for a moment he was so overwhelmed by the hot surge of want
that he couldn’t speak.

“Deal,” he finally managed, his gaze dropping significantly to Roy’s jock.

Roy just smiled, hooked his thumbs into the waistband, and tugged the jock down.

Jason’s brain went entirely offline. Checked out, left the building, leaving Jason sitting on the bed,
staring blankly at a completely naked and half hard Roy Harper.

What did he do now? Did he go to Roy? Did he wait for Roy to come to him? Did he take the
towel off? Dying again was starting to sound like a viable option. At least he’d had practice at that.

Why, in all of the years he’d been plotting and hoping and dreaming of getting Roy, had he never
considered what he’d do with him once he had him?
“Jaybird?” Roy asked. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason heard himself say.

“Okay, because you haven’t blinked in a really long time and it’s kind of freaking me out,” Roy
said. He drew closer. “Am I going too fast? Do you want to stop?”

“No!” Jason said, too quickly, too loud. “No, I’m good. I just…”

Roy climbed onto the bed, straddling Jason’s lap. Jason fought the urge to shut down again as Roy
threaded his fingers through Jason’s hair.

“Baby,” Roy murmured, and Jason’s heart thudded hard against his ribcage. “Don’t stab me for
asking this, but…is this your first time?”

The only saving grace was that Jason was already blushing so hard that he couldn’t possibly get
any redder. “I’ve been busy,” he grumbled, looking away.

“Hey, you don’t have to justify it to me,” Roy said. His tone was light, conversational, and that
helped ease some of Jason’s embarrassment. If he’d been gentle, it would have been worse. “I’m
extremely flattered. As blazing hot as you are and you picked me? I feel like the prettiest girl at the
prom.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Jason said, even as his hands found their tentative way back to Roy’s waist.
Roy’s skin was warm and smooth under his hands, his sides expanding and contracting with every
breath. He was so alive.

Blazing hot. Roy thought he was hot.

“Okay, we can work on better pet names next time,” Roy said. As usual, he was clearly neither
bothered nor surprised by Jason’s petulance. “What do you want to do this time?”

Jason’s thought process got a little derailed by the promise of a next time. “What?”

Roy laughed and bent to kiss him. “What do you want, Jaybird?” he asked, his mouth still so close
to Jason’s. “Any fantasies you want fulfilled? I’m taking requests.”

Once again, Jason’s years of longing tripped and stumbled over the reality of Roy, so vibrant and
willing and waiting for Jason to tell him what he wanted. Jason opened his mouth and shut it again,
afraid something mortifyingly filthy would come out—or worse, one of his older fantasies, back
when he was just a kid and anything steamier than kissing and maybe a little heavy petting was
beyond him, when the shirtless hug Roy had greeted him with had starred in his dreams for weeks.

“...What do you want?” he managed instead.

Roy looked briefly surprised; then he smiled, and Jason’s breath caught in his throat. This wasn’t
the playful smiles Roy had been giving him up to now. This was something different, something
deeper.

“I’d like to get that towel out of the way, if that sounds good to you,” Roy said.

Jason nodded, and Roy rose up higher on his knees, bracing his hands on Jason’s shoulders and
lifting his weight off of Jason’s lap without actually getting off of him. It gave Jason room to
unwrap the towel from around his waist, and then there he was, stark naked and achingly hard,
with Roy giving his dick what he hoped was an appreciative look.
“Gorgeous,” Roy murmured, sending another thrill of heat up the back of Jason’s neck. “Can I
touch you?”

Jason managed to nod. “Sure.”

Roy didn’t go straight for Jason’s dick, like Jason had expected. Instead, he leaned in for another
kiss. While Jason tipped his face up to meet him, one of Roy’s hands slid from Jason’s shoulder
down over his chest, pausing to thumb curiously over a nipple and make Jason gasp into Roy’s
mouth. Those nimble, callused fingers made their leisurely way down over Jason’s ribcage, fanned
across his stomach, trailed through the coarse hair below it.

When his fingers finally curled around Jason’s dick, Jason couldn’t help the small noise he made,
muffled by Roy’s lips. He felt the curve of Roy’s smile against his mouth. “Hi,” Roy said.

Jason’s hand slipped from Roy’s hip to rest on his upper thigh. “Can I…?”

“Baby, you can do anything you want,” Roy assured him.

That was a very long list, but Jason started with reaching for Roy’s dick, hot and fully hard now
against his palm. Roy made a satisfied noise as Jason gave him an experimental stroke, pressing a
kiss to Jason’s ear.

“In case you were wondering,” he said, still touching Jason almost lightly enough to be a tease,
“you’re doing great.”

Jason snorted and told himself not to feel pleased. But it was hard to feel anything but pleasure,
with Roy pliant and writhing in his lap, his hot breaths coming out a little faster against Jason’s
temple, his hand moving on Jason’s cock. Touching Roy was almost better than Roy touching him,
especially when Roy was making it so crystal clear how much he liked everything Jason was
doing.

“So fucking beautiful,” Roy was saying, his voice low and coaxing. “Love your hands on me,
baby, love the way you touch me.” He nipped at Jason’s lip. “But can I try something?”

Jason had liked all of Roy’s ideas so far, but he still managed to retain a little dignity and not just
nod frantically. “It better not involve explosives,” he warned, forcing his expression into something
stern.

Roy laughed. “We’ll work up to that,” he said.

His tone left Jason only mostly sure he was kidding, and he pulled back a little to tell Roy in no
uncertain terms that explosives were staying out of the bedroom, when Roy spread his thighs and
shifted his weight, sliding even closer until he could press their cocks together and stroke them in
one talented hand. Jason’s protests died on his lips.

“Good?” Roy asked.

Jason clutched at him, needing to do something with his hands, needing to feel the supple heat of
Roy against his skin. “Good,” he managed.

Roy started stroking them in earnest, setting a rhythm much faster and harder than the teasing he’d
been doing before. Jason couldn’t bite back the embarrassing moan that spilled out of him, but Roy
just grinned and pressed a kiss to his cheekbone. “That’s right, let me hear you.”

The thought of attempting anything like dirty talk left Jason flushed and tongue-tied, but it didn’t
seem to matter. Embarrassed or not, he couldn’t stop the helpless noises he was making, the needy
little gasps and moans, and if the way Roy praised him and kissed him and stroked him faster was
any indication, that was good enough.

“Perfect, you’re perfect,” Roy murmured, kissing his mouth, his cheek, his neck. “God, look at
you. Are you gonna come, baby?”

Jason shook his head frantically, even though his toes were curling and he could feel his orgasm
threatening to overtake him. He squeezed his eyes shut. “No…no, I can last…”

“I know you can,” Roy said, his tone all temptation. “But I really want to make you come.”

Jason’s eyes flew open. “Fuck, Roy.”

“Go ahead, baby,” Roy coaxed, grinding against him, his hand moving faster. “Go ahead, let me
see you…”

Jason managed to hold out for a few more strokes—and then he was gone, spilling over Roy’s hand
as pleasure rippled through him. He was dimly aware that Roy was still talking to him, sweet and
filthy, but for a moment all he could hear was the pounding of his pulse inside his own head.

“...so fucking hot, so gorgeous, fuck you look beautiful like this,” Roy was saying when Jason
managed to tune back in. He had let go of Jason’s softening dick and was pumping his own
urgently, writhing and flushed in Jason’s lap, a picture out of Jason’s most treasured wet dreams.

“I can…” Jason offered, reaching for him with fingers that were still tingling, but he’d barely
touched him when Roy gave a soft cry and came. Jason watched, transfixed, determined to commit
the sight to memory.

Spent, Roy sagged in his lap and tipped his forehead against Jason’s. “Wow,” he said with a little
laugh. “You should have asked me out sooner.”

“You would have said no,” Jason retorted before he could stop himself.

Roy lifted his head, a furrow between his brows. “What?”

Crap. “Can you reach the tissues?” Jason said instead of answering.

Roy’s expression said he hadn’t missed Jason’s transparent attempt to dodge the question, but he
lifted himself up off of Jason’s lap with a groan and snagged the tissues off the nightstand. He took
a couple to wipe himself down and handed the box to Jason.

Jason set about cleaning himself off, wondering what happened now. Would Roy just leave?
Should Jason say something? Was he making things awkward?

Roy tossed his dirty tissues in the wastebasket and then sprawled on the mattress, his head on
Jason’s pillow like he owned it. He patted the sheets next to him. “Hurry up and get over here. I’m
a cuddler.”

Jason swallowed to cover his surprise and relief. “You know, somehow I feel like I could have
predicted that.”

Roy grinned at him, apparently completely happy to still be in Jason’s bed even though the sex was
done. Jason tossed his own tissues away and slipped under the covers. Roy immediately threw his
leg over Jason’s calves and his arm across Jason’s middle. “Hi.”
Jason felt his ears heat up. “Hi.”

“So, did it live up to your expectations?” Roy asked.

Jason blanched. “My expec—what?”

“Sex,” Roy clarified. “If not, I’m happy to try again. Just give me ten minutes.”

Jason made himself calm down. Roy didn’t know how long Jason had been pining. Roy wouldn’t
know, if Jason could just keep from being weird about it. “Well, I don’t have anything to compare
it to, so it can’t hurt to repeat the experiment. You know, for scientific purposes,” he said, hoping
he sounded breezy and flirty.

Roy laughed, which helped Jason relax even further. “You know I’m always in favor of science,”
he said. “You should see if you get the same results before you increase the sample size.”

Jason frowned. “What do you mean, increase the sample size?”

Roy shrugged, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “Well, you know, in case you wanted to try
having sex with someone who wasn’t already conveniently in your apartment. I mean, you don’t
have to. But I’d understand.”

“You think I decided to lose my virginity to you because it was convenient?” Jason said, mildly
outraged by the notion. “I’ve been waiting a decade for this, what the hell about that was
convenient?”

Roy blinked. “You’ve been waiting how long?”

But Jason’s attention had snagged on something else Roy had said, and it was too upsetting for him
to waste time being mortified by what he’d just let slip. “Wait. Are you trying to get rid of me or
something?”

“From…your own apartment?” Roy asked. “Go back to the decade thing.”

“Why do you want me to sleep with other people?” It came out more wounded than Jason had
intended, and suddenly he felt very young. “Was it…not good?”

“What are you—of course it was good! Quit dodging the question!” Roy said, clearly irritated.

“You first!”

They scowled at each other for a minute. Then Roy sighed and looked away, the irritation bleeding
out of his expression.

“I don’t want you to sleep with other people,” he said. “But I don’t want you to feel like…I don’t
know, like I’m tying you down.”

“You’re literally pinning me to the mattress,” Jason pointed out.

Roy glanced down at his own arm and leg like he’d just realized they belonged to him. “That’s…
beside the point,” he said. “I just…look, not to rub it in, but I have more experience here, okay? I’m
just planning ahead.”

Planning ahead for what? For Jason to dump him? To get bored with him? Jason opened his mouth
to yell at Roy—and then realized that that was exactly what Roy thought was going to happen.
That Jason was going to get bored of him and move on for some hypothetical greener pastures, like
everyone else had in the past.

He was so fucking stupid.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” he told Roy, and kissed him fiercely.

Roy’s brow was furrowed when Jason pulled back. “Jason—”

“No. Shut up,” Jason said, and kissed him again.

This time when he pulled back Roy didn’t protest, just searched his expression for a minute.
Whatever he saw must have convinced him, because the tension that had been in the arm slung
across Jason’s stomach suddenly eased.

“Okay,” Roy said. “Maybe I am stupid.” His thumb stroked the ridge of Jason’s lowest rib. “But
now it’s your turn. Go back to the waiting a decade thing.”

“No,” Jason said immediately.

But he could see Roy doing the math again. “Wait. We met at that concert, how long ago was
that?”

Jason squirmed. “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

A smile spread over Roy’s face of such utter delight that it eased Jason’s embarrassment by half a
degree. “Jaybird. Did you have a crush on me?”

“You took off your shirt and winked at me!” Jason snapped, seriously considering hiding under the
pillow. Or hitting Roy with it.

Roy burst out laughing and then kissed the tip of his nose, which was objectively incredibly
obnoxious, and yet Jason couldn’t quite bring himself to mind. Especially since he’d just seen
plenty of evidence that he wasn’t the only one with embarrassing insecurities.

“How are you this hot and this adorable?” Roy asked, still looking delighted. “It seems unfair. You
should leave some for the rest of us.”

“Don’t tease me,” Jason grumbled, but he let Roy tug him closer.

“I’m not,” Roy said, then paused. “Okay, I am, but it’s with love. Seriously, though, all this time?
You should have said something.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “When I was fifteen?”

“Okay, no, not then, but what about after Qurac? I would have run away with you wherever you
wanted to go. I did run away with you.”

“You were into Kori!”

“I was into both of you! I wasn’t subtle about it, either,” Roy said. “Hell, even before that, when
you helped out the Outsiders that one time? I thought Dick was going to kick my ass for panting
over his little brother.”

Jason blinked. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” Roy said. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, my life melted down pretty much directly
 after that, so things probably worked out for the best. But you totally could have made a move.
Basically any time in the past…” His brow wrinkled while he counted backwards. “Five years, I
guess? I’d have been into it, believe me.”

Jason stared at him. All of those years of waiting, of wishing, of worrying, and he could have just
asked? Without wasting half a decade?

For a moment he considered getting blisteringly, incandescently furious.

But then he looked at Roy, spent and lazy in his bed, and somehow he just couldn’t work up the
energy. What did it matter how long it had taken them to get here? They were here.

And Jason wasn’t wasting any more time. “Hey, Roy?”

“Yeah?”

Jason wriggled out from under Roy’s limbs and rolled him over onto his back. Roy let Jason move
him, laughing as Jason straddled his waist. Jason leaned in, pinning Roy’s wrists to the mattress
and watching his pupils dilate.

“I’m making a move.”

The smile that spread over Roy’s face was absolutely worth waiting nine years for.

“I’m into it,” he said.

End Notes

Jason and Roy first met in canon in New Teen Titans #20 (1984 series), but I've set the
Great Frog scene before that. The Outsiders scene is from the only other time they
interacted pre-Flashpoint, Outsiders #46 (2003 series). The prison escape is from Red Hood
and the Outlaws #1 (2011 series), and if the sequence of events reads like nonsense, well...I
was very faithful to the comic.

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