DEAD BY DAYLIGHT━━JASON TODD

007.

Jason raised his eyebrows, teasing. "Was it good?"

KJ couldn't help but laugh, scoffing a little. "We were sixteen with internet access. It was fine, if not a little awkward."

Jason gave him a look. Nothing menacing or threatening or challenging, but something in it made KJ concede—maybe it was that certain softness that he hadn't seen from Jason in a while as he relaxed back into his seat, cradling his coffee mug, reminiscing.

"Yeah, Jace," KJ murmured finally, hiding behind his coffee mug, "it was good. Consider sixteen-year-old me's world officially rocked."

Nodding, Jason wasn't really sure of what he was doing until he did it. They were the exact same height, down to the centimeter (there was a dingy wall in the foster center that they took over before moving into Wayne Manor that had their heights scratched into the expensive eggshell paint—Jason grew faster, but KJ wasn't always far behind. The inch-by-inch scratchings were definitely long gone by now, or maybe they got lucky and Bruce kept them as some little reminder that they were still kids.), so Jason found himself rising a little to nose at KJ's temple, KJ not doing anything to stop him, his touch starvation kicking in again.

KJ pulled in a sharp breath at the contact as the two just stood in the kitchen, too aware of their own presence and the proximity between them. Part of KJ did come to wonder what would happen if he gave in, let himself fall again. And then he began to wonder why he wasn't letting himself fall, anyway. He did say that it was the constant adjusting and having so much shit move past him without giving him the chance to properly observe it, that part was true. But he also realized that the one constant in his life, the one that wasn't having him constantly adjust to everything, was Jason. Given that he had come and gone, he was still there. He was like a weed (in a non-derogatory sense), to put it simply; he was always popping up in places where KJ would least expect it.

What pulled KJ out of his pool of thoughts was the soft kiss being pressed to his temple and it almost made him want to crumble. That. That was what KJ was afraid of. That was the thing that kept him from falling again. The thing no one really knew about Jason was how tender he could be. After a bad fight, he'd sit KJ down on the ledge of the bathtub and take his fucking time disinfecting and bandaging the wound on KJ's fist even though he looked ten times worse than some measly bruise that purpled KJ's knuckles. He knew to be careful because of the scar that traced his way up KJ's back because if it got hit the wrong way, it'd knock the wind out of him—almost to the point of him passing out, knowing how it'd still act up from time to time.

Jason knew him, as much as KJ wanted to think that too much time had passed and he wanted to believe that everything between them was dated and couldn't be referenced and brought back, archived for the greater good (the "greater good" in question being KJ's ever-fluctuating sanity.) He knew him.

And that was what got KJ to want to lock himself down again, to cave in on himself just a little bit more.

Jason had long since moved away but still kept himself close, fingers messing with the stray ringlets that curled against the nape of KJ's neck, watching as multiple thoughts and feelings flashed between his eyes. He didn't push, didn't budge, and KJ almost broke down. Jason was a good guy, and he didn't deserve the shit KJ was putting him through. But here he was, indulging in it like last time, ready to put on the brakes when he'd eventually have enough and snap back to reality and pull away again. But he just wasn't moving.

Slowly, and traitorously against his own will, KJ turned to look at Jason, and pulled him into a hug, arms winding around his neck and hand cradling the back of his head the way he liked. He could feel Jason sink into him, almost slump over and give up his body weight as if he was waiting for this moment to happen. And maybe he was.