[ he scowls when dick immediately threatens to take it back, leveling him a sullen glare that's ready to fight. its cut short when sizhui's brings a hand up to wipe at his eyes, even if jason ducks away from the doting attention. he blinks away the remnants of his frustration, his mouth twisted with protests and arguments crawling up his throat. sizhui doesn't know.
dully, he lets sizhui's fingers wrap around his hand, pressing the gift into his hand and closing his fingers around it, jason watching numbly, gaze stuck on the alleged birthday gift. sizhui wouldn't lie. dick wouldn't be so quick to be hurt, to rescind the gift otherwise. he doesn't know what to think of it. isn't really thinking when he lets sizhui drag him over to dick.
doesn't stop until they're both there. jason sniffs, not looking up from the present in his hand. wonders what dick thinks he wants. wonders why the hell dick even cares. jason hasn't made it easy.
around the knot in his throat and all this bullshit about if he wants it or not, he speaks up.] I want it. You gave it to me, so it's mine.
[it might actually kill him to admit he just plain wants it. he gently shrugs sizhui's hand off of him to pick at the seams of the wrapping paper, still stubbornly not looking up at either of them.]
[ The way his plan falls apart right before his eyes is ridiculous. He had trusted Sizhui to keep it on the downlow and let him leave before giving Jason the gift. Instead, it was pulled out the moment tension breaks out across the room.
There must be some irony to the fact that three fully grown men can be calmed at the sight of a gift. Right. He lets Sizhui tug them close but closes off anyway, crossing his arms again as he drops his gaze to the gift. Stupidāstupid. Jasonās going to hate it, probably attempt to throw it at him so heāll brace himself with a clenched jaw, heartbeat ricketing up as Jason lifts the edges of the wrapping paper.
Beneath is a slick black box. Elegant flush clasps are buckled on one side, sleek hinges on the other. When Jason opens it, heāll see a very recognizable item inside.
Dickās watching warily fingers digging into his upper arms, refusing to look at Jasonās expression and instead, keeping focused on the gift. ] Itāsā [ a collapsible bo staff, shrunken to its shortest length of just a foot. He takes a steadying breath.
He hesitates, then starts: ] It was Robinās. The parts were from the first bo staff. I remade it with Stu with what you left behind. [ Vague, because Sizhuiās here. Itās the original parts to his first bo staff that made him Robin, the first thing Bruce gave him as Robin, the first tactile thing that made him feel like he was in control. The only thing he didn't burn along with his suit.
Dick isnāt the sentimental type, nor is he the type to keep old, used things. It was only recently that he held a deep hatred for Robin and everything he stood for, but after taking the time and space to reflect, after Jason died, heās come to the realization that history is gruesome, whether it be his personal history or history between others. History is imperfect, but he can attempt to latch onto meaningful parts of it to fix the future with Jason.
The bo staff is fused with the pieces Jason left behind when he left Robin, completely reconstructed carefully, cleaned and polished from any dirt he had left behind. The grip is fashioned from strips of kevlar off-cuts used for Jasonās suit, sleek and smooth and wrapped neatly with supple leather around the middle. A āJā is branded into the bar. Dick gives a shaky exhale, feeling stupid. So stupid. Thereās no way Jason would want anything that had previously been hisābeen Robinās. Jasonās gone, moved on, and the last thing he needs is history haunting him. ]
I get it if you hate it. Just thought you might want what belongs to you. To Robin. [ Despite knowing better, despite himself, Dick lifts his gaze to look at Jason in an attempt to gauge any reaction, insides fluttering sickeningly with how vulnerable all this feels. Sizhui has single handedly ripped off a painful bandage. ]
[the hand on jason's withdraws first then sizhui lowers the other from dick's arm, he tucks the left behind his back, curls his right fingers around the wrist and stands there, unsure what else he's supposed to do now that they've reached this point. jason (quite obviously) wants the gift dick brought him if the way he's opening the paper is any indication, a task that has him staring despite knowing it's honestly none of his business.
whatever it is that can have all of them standing together like this must be important; dick hasn't withdrawn except into himself, which makes sizhui feel like the worst person in existence, but jason keeps right on opening the present.
and what's revealed isn't anything he would've expected; the box is striking in an indescribable way, though once it's opened, the bo staff inside proves more exquisite than almost any weapon he's ever seen. bichen might come close or perhaps zidian with its crackling purple lightning? but he's never seen any sort of staff this refined beforeā which means it's important, evidently, for whatever reasons he doesn't know.
for a brief moment, sizhui's gaze flickers from jason to dick, eyes so, so wide with surprise he can feel it on himself. his chest aches with a brewing storm of guilt and longing (and for some reason: relief), it makes him loosen a hand, reach around and up to press his palm over his chest, like the gesture might keep his heart from beating so hard. much to his dismay, that's not how things work, and it only makes his pulse pound harder, in fact. (can ribs break from a heart beating too fast? he's uncertain, but it sure feels that way.)
sizhui inclines his head, bites down on his cheek to keep from saying anything, regardless of desperately wanting to compliment how wonderful the weapon is. he doesn't have a clue how jason could react and gods forbid, if it happens to be negative, he do something else that ends up making the situation worse.]
[ the wrapping paper ripped off cleanly, discarded to the floor in favor of the pretty little box underneath. he didn't waste time opening it, but his breath sticks in his chest when his gift slides into his hands.
what's in his hands hardly needs dick's explanation, recognizable under the additions, and it fuels the most conflicting well of emotions in him. if anyone'd ever asked him if he wanted anything he'd left behind with robin, he'd have sneered no. this is something completely different though, a frankenstein of dick's and his stuff that hits hard.
almost as hard as the immediate recognition that this wasn't some last minute gift. it took time. it was something dick had to think through. that hits harder than he'd expect, that all this time he's been running from that shit, dick hadn't forgotten him. there's like no way he deserves this after all the shit he gave dick. more so after today, all the bullshit he said. blaming dick for shit that couldn't be his fault.
it's too nice, a freaking gorgeous staff before dick added all the fine details. there's awe in his expression, in his eyes as he turns it over in his hands, doesn't want to tell dick how fucking cool jason used to think he looked with his bo staff. so badass. the staff he'd train with at the tower had nothing on dick's. he itches to try it out already, but sizhui is right there. jason glances at him and while this probably doesn't mean anything, he doesn't want to inspire more questions. he looks away quickly from the rapt attention, feels awkward under it.
he thumbs over the J and when he lifts his gaze back to dick, his throat gets tight to find dick already watching him.] I don't hate it. [he's quick to say and what he hadn't wanted to say follows anyway, out his mouth.] I always thought your bo staff was so fucking cool.
[ The sound of his own heart hammering away in his chest is so loud in his ears. Heās tense, watching Jason open up the present, eyes lifting wary and unsure to look at Sizhui, whoās also watching raptly. God. Those flickers of emotion over Jasonās face and itās hard for him to read exactly what any of it even means. Thereāthe pain that he predicted, fascination with the bo-staff, that he also knew would be there. A new toy, right? Who could resist. Jason lifts it and grips it and Dick feels his mouth part with how good it looks in Jasonās hand. Hisāhis, refashioned and now Jasonās. Strong fingers wrapped around the leather binding and a calloused thumb sliding over the āJā branded into the slick material.
Fuck itās hard to breathe. Itās hard to breathe because he knows how much this staff means to him, because he knows how much thought he put into it, making sure itād be just right and flawless when he expands. He braces himself for the disgust that must set in afterwards.
Except Jason doesnāt hate it. His eyes snap back to Jasonās face, widened in surprise. A beat as he tries to figure out what to say. ]
IāOkay. Well itās yours now. [ Hardened eyes soften just a tad, concrete walls cracking in the face of that realization. Jason doesnāt hate it. A breath he had been holding falls out in a sigh as he looks at Sizhui. He still treads carefully here. ] I didnāt want it to be a big thing like this. [ He explains quietly, offered as information rather than blame. ]
[after jason removes the staff from it's cradle, sizhui isn't sure why, but he instinctively reaches out, takes the box it was settled in so jason can get a better feel for the weapon. doing this, however, means his hands at least have something to do rather than fight to stay behind his back. because aside from peeking toward dick every now and then, he can't keep his eyes off how perfectly the baton settles in jason's hands, the way he moves it between his fingers in silent admiration. jay likes it, doesn't he?
good, since it was obviously made for him, make no mistake. seems he isn't the only one taken, either. he spares dick the briefest sidelong glance, considers his open mouth, wets his own lips before forcing himself to look away, the blood whooshing in his ears all he can hear for that too long minute.
he exhales a breathless sigh, loosens his vice-like grip on the weapon's container and, albeit with reluctance, averts his attention to dick again following his comment.] I'm sorry, I shouldn't haveā [sizhui hesitates, lowers his head once more, considers what words would work in this moment. it is a big thing, he reminds himself, dark eyes darting upward, from dick to jason then back.]
...how far does it extend? [because jason should try it out. maybe not swing too much or try anything super intricate, but opening the bo staff for a moment, letting its full weight rest in his hands. sizhui suppresses another noise ā something more unexplainable that might not sound appropriate coming out ā then fixes his gaze on dick, patiently waiting for an answer. (goodness, when did it get so warm all of a sudden?)]
[he doesn't hate it -- that's a goddamn understatement. his throat is still tight, makes it hard to swallow and hard to get words out, but it doesn't get any easier when dick's eyes snap back to him, wide. his eyes get softer and jason looks away, looks back down to the badass staff that's his now. yeah, he gets it when dick says he didn't want it to be this big of a deal.]
Thanks, [ he says, quieter. the whole spectacle aside, it wouldn't have meant any less, though. no one's given him anything important like this, made for him like this. he can't help running his fingers over the fine details, the kevlar strips and the J and -- all of it. he still can't believe dick did this for him.
his eyes flick back up when sizhui apologizes and, fuck does jason have a lot to apologize for when dick leaves. shit to explain that'd he rather not. only fucking fair that dick got outed too.
sizhui's curious question has jason's mouth pulling into a smirk even while sizhui is looking at dick for an answer. like jay can't just show him. he steps back, mindful of sizhui's neat little apartment.] Oh, I can answer thatā
[and jason does with a cocky flourish that compliments the staff extending to it's full length. he rests it against his shoulder with a pleased smirk.] Don't get jealous, baby.
[ Dick doesnāt often make it so obvious that he sees these things so clearly, but the interest in Sizhuiās eyes is undeniable. Itās as undeniable as how good Jason looks with the weapon held in his hand, in its small, compact form. Thereās a curious raise of a brow when Sizhui asks how long it extends. In all honesty, thatās not quite the reaction he had expected. Most would have been questioning the fact that heād just gifted a weapon as a birthday present, but Sizhui just seemsāinterested.
And Jason looks actually somewhat pleased with it. Dick takes another breath, slow to inhale and heavy with relief as he exhales. He even lets his mouth soften, looking away from Jason for the moment he extends it, watching Sizhuiās reaction.
The staff extends just as it should, swift and clean, sleek in Jasonās strong grip. God. He looks away, suddenly finding the ground very interesting. Part of him pinches at the sight of Jason holding something so Robin. Another part of him is pleased that what he made is so fitting.
When he looks up again, thereās a hint of warmth in his eyes. ]
Youāre welcome. [ He pushes off the counter. ] Alright, I think Iāve stayed long enough. Sizhui. Thanks for inviting me in. Nice meeting you. [ A beat, because none of this turned out as bad as it did. ] Jason. If you want tips with that, you know where I am.
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dully, he lets sizhui's fingers wrap around his hand, pressing the gift into his hand and closing his fingers around it, jason watching numbly, gaze stuck on the alleged birthday gift. sizhui wouldn't lie. dick wouldn't be so quick to be hurt, to rescind the gift otherwise. he doesn't know what to think of it. isn't really thinking when he lets sizhui drag him over to dick.
doesn't stop until they're both there. jason sniffs, not looking up from the present in his hand. wonders what dick thinks he wants. wonders why the hell dick even cares. jason hasn't made it easy.
around the knot in his throat and all this bullshit about if he wants it or not, he speaks up.] I want it. You gave it to me, so it's mine.
[it might actually kill him to admit he just plain wants it. he gently shrugs sizhui's hand off of him to pick at the seams of the wrapping paper, still stubbornly not looking up at either of them.]
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There must be some irony to the fact that three fully grown men can be calmed at the sight of a gift. Right. He lets Sizhui tug them close but closes off anyway, crossing his arms again as he drops his gaze to the gift. Stupidāstupid. Jasonās going to hate it, probably attempt to throw it at him so heāll brace himself with a clenched jaw, heartbeat ricketing up as Jason lifts the edges of the wrapping paper.
Beneath is a slick black box. Elegant flush clasps are buckled on one side, sleek hinges on the other. When Jason opens it, heāll see a very recognizable item inside.
Dickās watching warily fingers digging into his upper arms, refusing to look at Jasonās expression and instead, keeping focused on the gift. ] Itāsā [ a collapsible bo staff, shrunken to its shortest length of just a foot. He takes a steadying breath.
He hesitates, then starts: ] It was Robinās. The parts were from the first bo staff. I remade it with Stu with what you left behind. [ Vague, because Sizhuiās here. Itās the original parts to his first bo staff that made him Robin, the first thing Bruce gave him as Robin, the first tactile thing that made him feel like he was in control. The only thing he didn't burn along with his suit.
Dick isnāt the sentimental type, nor is he the type to keep old, used things. It was only recently that he held a deep hatred for Robin and everything he stood for, but after taking the time and space to reflect, after Jason died, heās come to the realization that history is gruesome, whether it be his personal history or history between others. History is imperfect, but he can attempt to latch onto meaningful parts of it to fix the future with Jason.
The bo staff is fused with the pieces Jason left behind when he left Robin, completely reconstructed carefully, cleaned and polished from any dirt he had left behind. The grip is fashioned from strips of kevlar off-cuts used for Jasonās suit, sleek and smooth and wrapped neatly with supple leather around the middle. A āJā is branded into the bar. Dick gives a shaky exhale, feeling stupid. So stupid. Thereās no way Jason would want anything that had previously been hisābeen Robinās. Jasonās gone, moved on, and the last thing he needs is history haunting him. ]
I get it if you hate it. Just thought you might want what belongs to you. To Robin. [ Despite knowing better, despite himself, Dick lifts his gaze to look at Jason in an attempt to gauge any reaction, insides fluttering sickeningly with how vulnerable all this feels. Sizhui has single handedly ripped off a painful bandage. ]
no subject
whatever it is that can have all of them standing together like this must be important; dick hasn't withdrawn except into himself, which makes sizhui feel like the worst person in existence, but jason keeps right on opening the present.
and what's revealed isn't anything he would've expected; the box is striking in an indescribable way, though once it's opened, the bo staff inside proves more exquisite than almost any weapon he's ever seen. bichen might come close or perhaps zidian with its crackling purple lightning? but he's never seen any sort of staff this refined beforeā which means it's important, evidently, for whatever reasons he doesn't know.
for a brief moment, sizhui's gaze flickers from jason to dick, eyes so, so wide with surprise he can feel it on himself. his chest aches with a brewing storm of guilt and longing (and for some reason: relief), it makes him loosen a hand, reach around and up to press his palm over his chest, like the gesture might keep his heart from beating so hard. much to his dismay, that's not how things work, and it only makes his pulse pound harder, in fact. (can ribs break from a heart beating too fast? he's uncertain, but it sure feels that way.)
sizhui inclines his head, bites down on his cheek to keep from saying anything, regardless of desperately wanting to compliment how wonderful the weapon is. he doesn't have a clue how jason could react and gods forbid, if it happens to be negative, he do something else that ends up making the situation worse.]
no subject
what's in his hands hardly needs dick's explanation, recognizable under the additions, and it fuels the most conflicting well of emotions in him. if anyone'd ever asked him if he wanted anything he'd left behind with robin, he'd have sneered no. this is something completely different though, a frankenstein of dick's and his stuff that hits hard.
almost as hard as the immediate recognition that this wasn't some last minute gift. it took time. it was something dick had to think through. that hits harder than he'd expect, that all this time he's been running from that shit, dick hadn't forgotten him. there's like no way he deserves this after all the shit he gave dick. more so after today, all the bullshit he said. blaming dick for shit that couldn't be his fault.
it's too nice, a freaking gorgeous staff before dick added all the fine details. there's awe in his expression, in his eyes as he turns it over in his hands, doesn't want to tell dick how fucking cool jason used to think he looked with his bo staff. so badass. the staff he'd train with at the tower had nothing on dick's. he itches to try it out already, but sizhui is right there. jason glances at him and while this probably doesn't mean anything, he doesn't want to inspire more questions. he looks away quickly from the rapt attention, feels awkward under it.
he thumbs over the J and when he lifts his gaze back to dick, his throat gets tight to find dick already watching him.] I don't hate it. [he's quick to say and what he hadn't wanted to say follows anyway, out his mouth.] I always thought your bo staff was so fucking cool.
no subject
Fuck itās hard to breathe. Itās hard to breathe because he knows how much this staff means to him, because he knows how much thought he put into it, making sure itād be just right and flawless when he expands. He braces himself for the disgust that must set in afterwards.
Except Jason doesnāt hate it. His eyes snap back to Jasonās face, widened in surprise. A beat as he tries to figure out what to say. ]
IāOkay. Well itās yours now. [ Hardened eyes soften just a tad, concrete walls cracking in the face of that realization. Jason doesnāt hate it. A breath he had been holding falls out in a sigh as he looks at Sizhui. He still treads carefully here. ] I didnāt want it to be a big thing like this. [ He explains quietly, offered as information rather than blame. ]
no subject
good, since it was obviously made for him, make no mistake. seems he isn't the only one taken, either. he spares dick the briefest sidelong glance, considers his open mouth, wets his own lips before forcing himself to look away, the blood whooshing in his ears all he can hear for that too long minute.
he exhales a breathless sigh, loosens his vice-like grip on the weapon's container and, albeit with reluctance, averts his attention to dick again following his comment.] I'm sorry, I shouldn't haveā [sizhui hesitates, lowers his head once more, considers what words would work in this moment. it is a big thing, he reminds himself, dark eyes darting upward, from dick to jason then back.]
...how far does it extend? [because jason should try it out. maybe not swing too much or try anything super intricate, but opening the bo staff for a moment, letting its full weight rest in his hands. sizhui suppresses another noise ā something more unexplainable that might not sound appropriate coming out ā then fixes his gaze on dick, patiently waiting for an answer. (goodness, when did it get so warm all of a sudden?)]
no subject
Thanks, [ he says, quieter. the whole spectacle aside, it wouldn't have meant any less, though. no one's given him anything important like this, made for him like this. he can't help running his fingers over the fine details, the kevlar strips and the J and -- all of it. he still can't believe dick did this for him.
his eyes flick back up when sizhui apologizes and, fuck does jason have a lot to apologize for when dick leaves. shit to explain that'd he rather not. only fucking fair that dick got outed too.
sizhui's curious question has jason's mouth pulling into a smirk even while sizhui is looking at dick for an answer. like jay can't just show him. he steps back, mindful of sizhui's neat little apartment.] Oh, I can answer thatā
[and jason does with a cocky flourish that compliments the staff extending to it's full length. he rests it against his shoulder with a pleased smirk.] Don't get jealous, baby.
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And Jason looks actually somewhat pleased with it. Dick takes another breath, slow to inhale and heavy with relief as he exhales. He even lets his mouth soften, looking away from Jason for the moment he extends it, watching Sizhuiās reaction.
The staff extends just as it should, swift and clean, sleek in Jasonās strong grip. God. He looks away, suddenly finding the ground very interesting. Part of him pinches at the sight of Jason holding something so Robin. Another part of him is pleased that what he made is so fitting.
When he looks up again, thereās a hint of warmth in his eyes. ]
Youāre welcome. [ He pushes off the counter. ] Alright, I think Iāve stayed long enough. Sizhui. Thanks for inviting me in. Nice meeting you. [ A beat, because none of this turned out as bad as it did. ] Jason. If you want tips with that, you know where I am.