Chapter Text
The gala was bustling. A black tie event. Some important charity event of Bruce's that Jason begrudgingly respected, if only because Bruce would be the only billionaire to actually use that money for charity and not to line his own pockets.
So, he'd showed up. Alfred's fault. He could hardly ever say no to the man.
He hated suits. They were itchy and constricting in all the ways his armor was, but without any protection. Other than the bulletproof vest he had on underneath.
To make matters worse, Damian wasn't even here, lucky brat having escaped this time, so he didn't even get the entertainment of talking shit. No. He was stuck with Tim, and Dick, and Bruce. He hated watching that Brucie persona. Gave him the ick.
"Jayyyyybird, quit glaaaaaaring, you're scaring the gueee-eeessts..." Dick singsonged as he approached.
"Mrs. Miller asked if you were planning on assassinating someone," Tim agreed dryly from behind him. "Which is honestly a valid concern."
Jason was leaning back against a pillar to one side of the room--like he usually did at these things. Most people knew to ignore Bruce Wayne's mysteriously lost-and-then-found child.
"Mh. Might. That dude flirting with B is getting on my fucking nerves..." he muttered as he glowered at a man, Bruce's age, currently being a bit touchy.
Bruce didn't seem bothered. If anything, his Brucie Wayne persona was flirting right back. But Jason knew better. He could see the subtle tension, the way his old man’s hand kept the champagne flute between him and the other socialite.
Tim raised a brow, following his line of sight. "...Is that Senator Williams?"
Dick made a face like he'd bit a lemon. "Oh, god. It is. He's a pompous ass."
Jason grunted, his eyes narrowing slightly. That senator in particular was one of the worst of the lot. He'd heard the man speak of wanting to ‘get close to Bruce Wayne for personal, non-politics related reasons.’
Tim watched the two with a raised brow. "You'd think his wife would object."
"His wife probably wants a piece too," Jason muttered darkly, before he stood up straight. He adjusted his tie with a grumble.
"I'm going over there."
"Jason, wait--" Tim began, but it was too late. Jason was already moving before Tim could even get his words out.
"Oh boy." Dick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as they both moved after him, weaving their way through the crowd as Jason stormed over to the senator.
Jason approached with all the grace of a very angry bull, lightly shouldering one very offended CEO along the way. He made it behind Bruce, where he stood behind him a few feet, practically radiating do not touch my dad energy as he stared at the Senator.
Williams had been mid flirt ("and my, if I thought my house was impressive, I'd love to see the inside of your home. Perhaps over dinner?"), before stopping short.
"...Hm. One of your boys seems to have joined us," he said brightly to Bruce.
Bruce, who had been actively pretending to be oblivious to Jason's murderous aura (a skill honed by years of parenting young Robins), blinked and turned with exaggerated surprise.
"Oh! Jay, sweetheart—" (sweetheart? Dick mouthed in horror behind him) "—you’ve met Senator Williams?"
Jason gave a smile that was more teeth than warmth. "Not yet." His tone suggested he was about five seconds from introducing his fist to the man's face.
"Well, I don't think I've met this one either. This is the one who went missing all those years, right? Glad to have you back with us, son!" Williams offered a hand and an oblivious grin to Jason.
Jason just stared in response, his jaw twitching from where it was clenched.
Tim and Dick, who were both still standing on either side of Jason, both cringed.
Bruce chuckled awkwardly, the patented Brucie Wayne trying to salvage a social blunder chuckle he'd practiced for years. "Jason is…less of a people person," he said, his hand coming up to rest on Jason's shoulder. It was a warning, a silent cue to calm the hell down.
"Ah, one of those introverted types?" Williams asked. "No problem. Silent company is as good as any. Although, I'd love to continue our conversation about dinner...?" A light, twinkling smile at Bruce.
Jason's muscles twitched under Bruce's hand. Like a bull flicking off a fly. "Maybe you should just offer to suck his dick and get done with it," he muttered.
Williams blinked a bit in alarm at the blunt statement. “O-oh my, I–”
Bruce's grip on Jason’s shoulder tightened to a near-bone-crushing degree. His smile stayed perfectly, unnervingly pleasant. "Ahaha! Oh, kids these days and their wild humor!" He gave Jason’s shoulder a warning squeeze. Shut up or I swear to god.
Dick swooped in with his most charming Richard Grayson-worthy grin, gently steering Williams away by the elbow. "Y'know what Senator? I think the shrimp cocktail station could really use your input! Tim here was just telling me how much he wanted to hear about tax reform!"
Tim, still standing frozen beside them, blinked rapidly before plastering on a stiff smile. "...Yes...taxes...so fascinating..."
As the three left, Bruce dragged Jason to a corner of the gala with all the elegance of a rich man guiding his child for scolding could manage. Jason shrugged his hand off when they were away, frowning deeply and crossing his arms. "He was getting too touchy," he muttered.
"...I'm aware he was too touchy, but you didn't have to make a scene in front of half of Gotham's social elite," Bruce said, his tone low and stern. He gave Jason his 'disappointed parent' look, which was about as effective at it was when he used it on Dick or Damian. "You can't keep acting like a thug in these kinds of settings, you're a Wayne, you have a reputation to uphold—"
"--a thug? Oh, fuck you. Now you're bein' fuckin' classist?" Jason barked.
"I'm being realistic! This is Gotham–the city runs on social politics and 'networking',"--he used air quotes for the term–"you can't just go throwing punches everywhere you go because some pompous senator got handsy. You're a Wayne, you are held to different expectations. Act like it!"
It was a tone he rarely used with the boys anymore, but his patience was running out.
Jason stared.
And stared.
Then, finally? He rolled his neck and huffed. "Fine."
That was...strangely agreeable.
Bruce had expected an argument—something he'd been expecting from the start, honestly. He'd mentally prepared himself for Jason leaving, or some kind of biting retort. But Jason's agreement, so abrupt that it nearly took him off-guard, was…odd.
"...That's it?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "No rebuttal? No argument?"
"No." Jason suddenly looked...very calm.
Too calm.
He shrugged and motioned towards the senator. "Go back to flirting then. I won't interrupt."
Bruce stood there, staring at his second eldest. Trying to read him. He'd learned to read his sons' various tics, their body language…but even after all this time, Jason was still an enigma.
He still couldn't quite tell when he was bullshitting.
"...You're being too agreeable. You never just…acquiesce like this," he said, the wariness in his tone clear.
"It's like you said. I should act more like a Wayne, right?" Jason tilted his head. Raised his hands. "Ain't Waynes agreeable?"
The response was…a fair point. But it did nothing to soothe Bruce's suspicion. Jason just didn't give in this easily—even when he knew he was wrong, he'd argue for the principle of it.
Bruce studied him with narrowed eyes, looking for any sign of deception. "...You're plotting something," he decided.
And that decision was met with another shrug. "I'm just listening to your orders, old man," Jason said.
Bruce had two choices here—press the issue and potentially have another argument break out in the middle of this event, or just…drop it.
He exhaled through his nose.
"...Fine. Just—stay civilized." He turned to leave before stopping short and looking back at him sharply, jabbing a finger toward Jason as if he suddenly remembered something critical. "No pranks on the senator. Or anyone else."
Jason held up his hands again, watching as Bruce went back to the senator to try and clean things up.
…Jason was plotting something.
Because if he had to sit here and watch Bruce get fawned over by a bunch of pompous rich assholes?
Two could play that game.