When was the last time someone asked him for anything without just demanding it?
It was that more than the hand on his arm that made him stop, muscles tense under Dick's touch. He didn't pull away, though. He thought about it. It would have been easy, even if Dick wasn't concussed and recovering from what looked like a rather impressive beat down.
It was still weird, the whole 'taller' thing.
Huffing out a small, joyless laugh, he turned and let that grip on his arm guide him back to the table.]
Seriously, it's not a big deal. Just drop it. Eat your breakfast, Goldie.
[ Jason's determined not to let anything more than that moment of vulnerability slip, but at least he stays, and it relaxes most of the tension out of his shoulders. But he doesn't let go either, only belatedly realizing that himself, that he still has his hand on Jason's arm, thumb brushing instinctively against his skin, a gentle gesture of affection that just feels right. He could blame it on still being out of it, if Jason were to object to it.
He's not dropping it. He can't, and he's pretty sure that he shouldn't. In the past it's been a lot easier to let go, or so he thought, and lately that's been weighing on his mind. That he shouldn't have let Jason drift away from him like that, no matter how tough it was to keep him close. The apparent difference between letting Jason have his space and letting him think that everyone was giving up on him was never clear enough, was it?
Dick doesn't have much of an appetite, even though Jason's right, he should eat. ]
[The thing about vulnerability was that people used it. Used it to manipulate him, to use him, to betray him. He'd learned that being vulnerable resulted in pain at far too early of an age and it was a lesson that his life hadn't let him forget.
But for as well as the lesson had been beaten in to him -literally and figuratively- he was still unable to completely turn off his emotions. He'd never been able to and it had caused more than one fight between himself and Bruce. Garzonas hadn't been the first fight, but his death had been the first real accusation. It had hurt almost as much as being stripped of Robin and his desperate attempt to find some kind of connection to anyone had ended in Sheila Haywood using his vulnerability to earn herself Joker's good graces.
Later, the Pit had stripped away what little control he did have, so when Talia started to tell him all about how he'd never been mourned and how he'd been so easily replaced, the anger had just festered. Time and space had helped ease some of her skillful manipulations, but it was still so very hard to let himself just be.
But he'd reached out to Dick. He'd taken that first tentative step forward, showed his throat in a proverbial surrender to the alpha. He had to trust him, right? More importantly, he wanted to trust him.
He didn't pull his arm away from that gentle touch as he sat back down, though he kept his gaze firmly on his hastily re-wrapped bagel.]
....you said you missed me. Last night, when I was wrapping your ribs. You said that you were glad I was here because you missed me.
[His voice was small, but thick with emotion and the younger man cleared his throat and frowned down at his table, but he let Dick keep his arm.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
No worries ^_^ My brain also took a few days to reset.
When was the last time someone asked him for anything without just demanding it?
It was that more than the hand on his arm that made him stop, muscles tense under Dick's touch. He didn't pull away, though. He thought about it. It would have been easy, even if Dick wasn't concussed and recovering from what looked like a rather impressive beat down.
It was still weird, the whole 'taller' thing.
Huffing out a small, joyless laugh, he turned and let that grip on his arm guide him back to the table.]
Seriously, it's not a big deal. Just drop it. Eat your breakfast, Goldie.
no subject
He's not dropping it. He can't, and he's pretty sure that he shouldn't. In the past it's been a lot easier to let go, or so he thought, and lately that's been weighing on his mind. That he shouldn't have let Jason drift away from him like that, no matter how tough it was to keep him close. The apparent difference between letting Jason have his space and letting him think that everyone was giving up on him was never clear enough, was it?
Dick doesn't have much of an appetite, even though Jason's right, he should eat. ]
Maybe it is a big deal to me.
no subject
But for as well as the lesson had been beaten in to him -literally and figuratively- he was still unable to completely turn off his emotions. He'd never been able to and it had caused more than one fight between himself and Bruce. Garzonas hadn't been the first fight, but his death had been the first real accusation. It had hurt almost as much as being stripped of Robin and his desperate attempt to find some kind of connection to anyone had ended in Sheila Haywood using his vulnerability to earn herself Joker's good graces.
Later, the Pit had stripped away what little control he did have, so when Talia started to tell him all about how he'd never been mourned and how he'd been so easily replaced, the anger had just festered. Time and space had helped ease some of her skillful manipulations, but it was still so very hard to let himself just be.
But he'd reached out to Dick. He'd taken that first tentative step forward, showed his throat in a proverbial surrender to the alpha. He had to trust him, right? More importantly, he wanted to trust him.
He didn't pull his arm away from that gentle touch as he sat back down, though he kept his gaze firmly on his hastily re-wrapped bagel.]
....you said you missed me. Last night, when I was wrapping your ribs. You said that you were glad I was here because you missed me.
[His voice was small, but thick with emotion and the younger man cleared his throat and frowned down at his table, but he let Dick keep his arm.]