Chapter Text
Jay was seated at the dining room table, chewing the top of her pencil like the answers to the math sheet were hidden in the eraser. She had been taking a lot of placement tests the past few days, ever since Bruce started talking about getting her back into school.
That one had been the worst so far, leaving her stumped at every question. She was only a few months into her time at the manor, still scared that one wrong move would lead her back to the streets or worse. Finishing the worksheet before Bruce got home probably seemed more vital a task than it actually was.
She heard movement coming from behind her and turned to see Dick passing through the dining room, head down and texting.
“Do you know when Bruce is getting home?”
He didn’t look up from his phone. “Dunno. He’s your dad.”
Her face heated up embarrassingly quickly, eyes stinging in frustration. She spit out a quick, childish defense about who her real parents were. Bruce had made it so clear to her— the adoption didn’t mean anything, it was just what he had to do to be allowed to take in a young girl.
Dick looked up from his phone with a raised eyebrow, muttering something snide about the “crack heads” who put her on the street.
She gaped at him in disbelief, not understanding how someone could say something like that. Living with Dick Grayson for three years after this had long since worn down her shock.
“My dad is only in jail because he was trying to get money for us, and my mom died,” she defended, aiming to guilt.
A mean grin overtook his features. “Right… died how exactly?”
“She wasn’t— she wasn’t a crackhead, she just— oh, fuck you!” she yelled, storming off, wishing she weighed more so that her stomps would have more of an impact.
She heard a muffled snort from beyond her and wondered how someone could be so cruel. She aggressively wiped the tears from her face as she ran through the massive halls, but cried freely into her pillow as soon as she got to her room.
Her eyes burned, and her throat hurt by the time she heard a knock on the door.
“Jayyy,” he groaned, his face muffled behind the wood.
“What?” she snapped.
“You gonna tell Bruce?”
She scoffed and scrambled out of her bed to open the door. “That’s it? You just don't want me to tell Bruce?”
He looked down at her like she was ridiculous for suggesting anything more. “What? Do you want a heart-to-heart about our dead parents?”
She rolled her eyes, refusing to feel stupid for this. “You could at least be civil, asshole. We are technically siblings.”
Dick’s taunting face suddenly turned stony, and his voice cold. “I’m not Bruce’s son. You’re not my sister. You’re just another orphan living in this house.”
Her first meeting with Dick was something awkward and carefully orchestrated, but that’s usually the one that comes to mind most when she thinks about the beginning of their relationship.
-
Once a year, the Waynes (or rather, one Wayne, one Grayson, and one Todd) travel a couple of hours south to the lake house. It’s a tradition that Bruce hadn’t been able to let go of despite those few years when it was just him and Alfred, because then he had Dick, and with Dick, there was a reason to come back down here. Jay seems to like it too, even if she spent the past two summers she’s been with them reading up at the house while Dick socialized on the beach.
He didn’t think this summer would be much different, as it was currently just the two of them in the house, settling down for the few weeks that they would be there. To his surprise, she walks up to him in sandals and with a towel in her hand.
“I’m gonna go to the beach.”
He can see a blue strap from the bikini they bought last month peaking out from under her cover-up. He bought her a bikini— a very modest bikini, because he didn’t think she would be wearing it anywhere outside of the manor’s pool. Fifteen can’t be old enough to wear a bikini in public, right? She was twelve a second ago.
“Okay?” she questions when he doesn’t answer. She raises an eyebrow at him with a teasing grin.
It would do her good to go make fools friends while they’re here. He tells himself this as he smiles and nods, “Have fun.”
-
Dick is leaning back in a beach chair when she approaches him. His eyes are closed and covered with sunglasses, but he feels the shadow when she plants herself between him and the sun's rays.
“What,” he says without opening his eyes, though it’s not quite a question.
When she doesn’t answer right away, he peeks an eye open without moving the glasses.
Huh. She’s in a bikini. He didn’t think Bruce would actually let her wear that anywhere outside of the property line.
“Do you want to go in the water?” she asks, hugging herself slightly.
He looks to the shore and sees that there are other kids in the water. She’s shy. Unsocialized. She must be pretty anxious to be coming to him for support.
“Busy,” he says, continuing to lean back in the chair. He’s not going to babysit on vacation.
She scoffs and calls him an asshole as she walks away. He lowers his sunglasses and watches her go, starting to really wonder how Bruce let her leave the house in that.
He must be having a hard time looking past that scrawny twelve-year-old he first met. It doesn’t help that even until recently, she’s always wearing baggy hoodies everywhere, so it’s not like she’s been turning any heads.
Now, though, the dark brown curls are brushing her shoulders, and she actually has a body to fill out that suit. When did that happen?
But that’s Bruce’s problem. He closes his eyes and goes back to the sun.
-
She went back up to the house after a brief, failed attempt at having fun at the beach. A couple hours went by before Bruce told her to go back down and tell Dick he has to be home soon, because he’s not answering his phone.
The walk down from the house to the lake is actually pretty nice, especially when it’s dark and quiet. It’s the rapidly approaching voices of loud, drunk teenagers that she’s not looking forward to.
She practically begs him not to make her do this on account of Dick already hating her, but he says, “Of course Dick doesn’t hate you, Jay,” and she gives up on reasoning with him if he genuinely believes that.
So she’s looking down as she walks, watching her sandals slap against the concrete until they’re sinking into the sand.
It’s easy to spot Dick— he’s usually the life of the party. People gravitate towards him. He’s just that kind of person.
She knows when he spots her because he throws his head back, eyes rolling dramatically. He says, “What,” though it still doesn’t really sound like a question.
At least five other people look at her as she tries not to blush under the attention. She feels stupid coming down here in front of all of Dick’s lake friends as the little tattle tale. A girl with her thigh pressed against Dick’s calls her cute.
Jay doesn’t like this— the heat from the bonfire, the mosquito bites that her white tank top isn’t protecting her from, and the obnoxious look Dick is giving her. She moves through the mini crowd of people to get closer to him, not wanting to announce her message to everyone.
“Bruce said—” she starts.
“Don’t tell me what Bruce said,” he begs, but his tone is… light. A joking plea.
“But he said—”
“Nooope,” he drones, only stopping to drink from the plastic cup he’s holding. He must be drunk to be acting playful like this instead of brushing her off.
She crosses her arms. She hates it when he’s drunk. “Are you done?”
Dick stands up, looking down at her and grinning, but she can’t figure out why.
“Wanna find out?”
“What are—”
Her question turns into a yelp as he suddenly leans down and grabs her, hoisting her up until she has no choice but to fall over his shoulder.
Admittedly, she panics. She feels like she’s about to die as she screams and hits and kicks her captor. He seems unaffected as he starts making his way to the shore, plastic cup still in the hand that isn’t imprisoning her.
“Put me down, Dick, I’m serious! Please—” she half demands, half pleads as they near the water. She can’t see his face, as she’s stuck staring at his back, but she can imagine the stupid, smug look he must be wearing.
It doesn’t take long before he’s wading into the water, almost up to his knees in it, the blue denim of his jeans turning dark.
“You wanna go down?” he asks.
“No!”
“But I thought you said—?”
She begs for him to stop one more time, and he cackles. It’s a crazy thought to have in the middle of a panic— she doesn’t know why it matters, but she can feel that his hand is wrapped around the back of her thigh. Suddenly, it’s gone, and he’s trying to fling her into the water.
She’s actually quite proud of how she manages to cling onto him with her arms and legs, so tight that there is no way he could shrug her off. He seems to give up as he stops moving, only lifting his arm to finish off the last of whatever was in the plastic cup.
There a short reprieve— the quiet before the storm before he falls backwards, and all of Jay’s efforts were for nothing.
The water is actually pretty refreshing compared to the muggy summer air, but much like her humiliation, it soaks every inch of her.
Dick is laughing when she emerges from the water with a gasp. She can’t even see with her hair in her face and there’s water up her nose, and her jean shorts are soaked, and he’s laughing. She’s just so angry.
She doesn’t bother saying anything to him as she crosses her arms over her chest and starts her miserable journey back to the house, pathetically sloshing out of the water.
She doesn’t realize he’s jogging after her until they reach the pavement. She hears his footsteps but still ignores him.
He makes a frustrated noise. “Come on, Jay.” An apology? “It’s just fun, don’t be a bitch about it.” Of course not. He’s probably only talking to her to stop her from telling Bruce. He really doesn’t think he did anything wrong— he never does.
She stops and turns to look at him, cheeks burning with anger, adrenaline, and embarrassment. “You got my shirt wet.”
He looks at her incredulously. “So? So’s mine.” He spreads his arms out in case she couldn’t tell.
He looks fucking fine. His hair is slicked back and wavy from the moisture, his shirt is clinging to his body, which he’s certainly never shown any signs of being embarrassed about, and he’s even managing to make wet jeans look cool. He’s just one of those people, and he doesn’t seem to understand what it’s like not to be. In fact, he’s so out of touch that he doesn’t even seem to understand what water does to a white shirt.
She rolls her eyes so hard she might’ve strained something and uncrosses her arms, spreading them wide on either side of her torso.
His expression goes from annoyed to amused, a smile splitting his face. “Ohh!” he says through a laugh that dissolves into an annoying giggle. “Red— sexy!”
She scowls at the ground so he won’t see the tears threatening to spill from her stinging eyes.
She goes back to the house, and he doesn’t follow her.
-
Jay takes a long shower to get the feeling of the lake water out of her bones. She didn’t tattle to Bruce.
She’s seated in front of the vanity wearing pajama shorts and a T-shirt by the time Dick comes home, loudly swinging the bedroom door open. She glares at him through the mirror as she brushes her wet hair.
“Oh, so that kind of water’s fine—” he teases, throwing his hands in the air.
“Don’t,” she warns, too tired for this.
“Still mad?” he asks while hopping on one foot to get his soggy shoe off.
“You’re being a dick.”
“Well—”
“Don’t!”
He must be tired too, because he actually does stop, ending it with a quiet snort at her frustration. She keeps her gaze on the mirror and the brush in her hair despite the lack of knots. She’s not sure what else to do when he starts peeling off his wet clothes. He’s down to his boxers, and he didn’t bother to towel off, so his skin his probably cold and damp and sticking to the sheets when he flops belly first onto the top bunk.
And he left the discarded clothes in a wet pile on the floor. Which is annoying. He’s annoying. She doesn’t know why she’s thinking about the temperature of his skin.
After a few more minutes of pretending to mess with her hair, she swivels around to actually look at the top bunk. She walks the short distance across the room, stepping up onto her mattress to hold herself up by the edge of his frame.
“Dick?”
His eyes are still closed, but he makes a vaguely “what” sounding grumble.
“You should probably put a shirt on before Bruce sees those scratches.”
He doesn’t respond, but she can see that he’s grinning by the part of his face that isn’t planted in the pillow. His arm is also shoved under the pillow. It’s kind of defined. He’s not, like, ripped, but there’s more muscle there than there was three years ago. Obviously he would look different than when he was fifteen; he’s technically an adult now. She can even tell just by the way his back curves from his shoulder blades to the wet, dark blue boxers (which he’s going to regret falling asleep in). She’s not thinking about that, though; her eyes are mainly caught on the light red lines running down his shoulder blades. It was probably that girl sitting next to him. She was pretty, but—
Before she can go further into that, he squints one eye open and asks, “What?”
Her face burns, because that’s a fair question to ask the girl who’s staring at him while he tries to sleep… but he’s wearing his usual asshole smirk, like he already knows, but then again, he always smiles like that and he rarely knows much. She still blushes.
Sure, yeah, he's hot. Everyone thinks he's hot, because, well, he is. But also because he's flirty and charming with everyone, so it's okay that maybe she's been a little affected by his… charisma. Now that she's acknowledged it, she can just let it go to save everyone the embarrassment, but most importantly, not give him the satisfaction.
She says, “Nothing,” and goes down to the bottom bunk and tries not to think about how tall and skinny and blonde that girl is.
-
Bruce barely gave Dick a stern look about coming home half an hour past his curfew, so now he’s preparing to go out again. This time on a date. It’s not like she wants to go out anywhere, because she doesn’t have anyone to hang out with, but if she did, Bruce would never let her do the things Dick does. So she’s choosing to be annoyed about it.
Well, very quietly annoyed. She’s just sitting on the bottom bunk, reading “To Kill a Mockingbird.” It’s a summer reading book— not her first choice, but it’s okay so far.
Meanwhile, Dick has been standing in front of the mirror adjusting his hair for probably about an hour now.
It seems like he’s almost satisfied, so she says, “You missed a spot.”
He says, “Shut up,” but then stays for another five minutes.
“What happened between you and her brother?”
Pausing her reading, it takes a second to realize who he’s talking about. His date (the blonde)— her younger brother seems to be interested in Jay. He’s an easy kind of person to forget about.
“Oh. Nothing.”
“Really? Seemed like he was all over you,” Dick says, even though all the guy did was ask if she wanted to hang out this morning, followed by her quickly turning him down, but why Dick cares— Jay has no idea. “He wasn’t bad looking. For you at least.”
She ignores the dig. “He was okay.”
Finally, he stands up from the mirror and turns around to say, “You’re so picky. Have you even kissed anyone yet?”
“Sorry, I don’t want my first kiss to be some random dude at the lake,” she rolls her eyes, trying to put her focus back onto the book.
“Waiting for Prince Charming? Oh! Or marriage?”
“Shut up,” she says, trying to shut the conversation down. But she can’t help from defending herself, “It would just be so awkward with some random guy— why not wait til I’m actually dating someone? Then they can’t make fun of me for being bad at it. It’s gotta be, like, an inherently awkward first experience, right? Why would I risk it with a stranger? I mean who was your first kiss?”
Dick’s looking at her like she’s ridiculous. “I don’t know. Some girl.”
Jay huffs, “Ugh,” and falls backward onto the mattress. “You’re not helping.”
He laughs, genuinely amused rather than his usual taunting. “Do you want my help?”
What. She lifts her head to look at him, but he does not look like he’s kidding. “What,” she decides to say out loud.
He’s still just looking at her all normal, not elaborating at all, until he cracks a grin. “If it's that big of a deal to you, I can just show you how.” She still can’t tell if he’s serious. “Either way, just get it over with already.”
“Okay…” she says, slowly sitting up.
“Good,” he says, reaching for the doorknob.
“No! I mean… Okay. If you wanna…”
He lets go of the doorknob.
She scrambles to sit up completely, her posture straight over criss-crossed legs. He strolls over to the bed and half-sits on the mattress in front of her, one leg still planted on the floor like this is just a quick thing he’s going to do before standing up again, which is exactly what he does after leaning in and giving her little more than a quick peck before she even has time to get nervous.
Then he’s leaned back, already half standing, and woah... Dick’s face was just on her face. Okay, she knows that’s what kissing is, but still… Weird. And quick.
“That’s it?”
He scoffs, maybe even a little offended. “Yeah, here’s a pro tip: it won’t be much fun if you don't kiss back.”
“You caught me off guard!” she defends.
“You literally said, ‘okay if you wanna,’ how could I have—”
“Well, I wasn’t ready! Do it again.”
He sits back down with a huff. “Fine.”
He braces a hand just above her knee as he goes to lean in again. Maybe it’s because she’s more prepared, but she can actually feel when their lips press together, and actually kisses back with Dick’s annoying note in the back of her head. He doesn’t pull away right away, so she does it again, hoping it is actually the right thing to do.
His hand goes from her knee to her chin, tilting her head to the right, and plants another one. That’s three successful kisses by her count, so she doesn’t know why he goes in for a fourth until she feels his tongue slide across the seal between her lips.
Oh.
Well, now she’s back to unfamiliar territory, but her lips part before she even has time to think about it.
Dick’s tongue is in her mouth, and it’s way less gross than she thought it would be. In fact, it’s exhilarating, almost electric. She didn’t think it was even possible to feel this way about men, to want more. But here she is, feeling like her whole body is buzzing with excitement. She’s just trying to keep up with him before he remembers how totally out of her depth she is, so she follows his lead, sliding her tongue against his, scooting closer when he does the same. Their knees are almost overlapping, and she has a fleeting thought of wanting to be in his lap.
His hand has been on her face, but when he slides it around to cup the back of her neck and somehow finds a way to deepen the kiss even more, she follows his lead, putting a hand in his hair, and—
“Ah!” he jumps back, smacking the hand away from his head. “Dude! This took me like— oh shit, I’m gonna be late.” He grabs his phone and is gone by the time she’s done blinking.
She blinks again, and he pops back into the door frame. “Text me what Bruce is doing for dinner,” and he’s gone again.
She says, “Okay…” into the empty room.
-
On her sixteenth birthday, one month later, Dick makes a joke about her being legal, and Bruce has an aneurysm.