Chapter Text
Jason curled up in the hollow of a half-crumbling wall and struggled to breathe. It felt like a thousand pins and needles were stabbing him, over and over and over again, a prickling hunger that radiated all across his body. It hurt. It hurt so damn much.
He stifled the keen that wanted to crawl out of his throat, calling for a pack he didn’t have. Batman had already given him the lecture on getting hit with mind-altering substances, warning him that their effects would be stronger on him. Jason absolutely did not want to be found.
“Robin?” A subtle shift of air and the faintest sound that someone had landed in the alley. “Robin, are you there?”
Oh no. The only thing worse than being found by Batman was being found by Nightwing.
Jason huddled closer, biting his glove to avoid making any sounds, and tried to suppress his presence as best he could. It hurt, pain penetrating into his bones and wracking him with tremors, but it was better this way. He couldn’t hurt anyone like this.
He had never forgotten what he was. Jason might’ve thought that Robin was a shining star of hope, beaming across the sky—that Jason could help people instead of being the monster in everyone’s nightmares—but the cold, inescapable truth was that he was dangerous. He was a predator and humans were the prey.
A muffled whimper made it past his hand. Jason froze.
“Robin?” Nightwing’s voice was getting closer. “Can you come out, please? Robin?”
It hurt. Jason could feel his control slipping and clung to it as tightly as he could. It was like trying to plug a sieve—there were holes, growing wider, and he couldn’t stop them all.
Some of his allure clearly escaped, an incubus’ subtle incitement to bring its prey within grabbing distance, because Nightwing’s footsteps took on purpose as they headed unerringly towards him. Jason cursed inside his head and scrabbled—to get further in the wall, except his body wouldn’t let him move.
It’s right there, his instincts whispered to him. You’re so hungry. You need to feed.
No. Jason couldn’t. Jason wouldn’t. He was always so careful in his feedings, terrified that Bruce or Alfred would change their minds and kick him out, so cautious not to damage anything. Human minds were delicate things.
Jason knew that. He’d seen it. He knew exactly what happened when an incubus with no care or concern feasted on a human’s mind. His mother’s blank gaze haunted his nightmares.
“Robin?” Nightwing whispered, right in front of him. He poked his head inside the hollow, white lenses of his domino reflecting luminously in the darkness. “What happened?”
Jason had to sacrifice some of his control for words. “Get away!” he snarled as furiously as he could, but his instincts were screaming at Nightwing to get closer and he could feel his allure grow. “Stop! It’s dangerous!”
Nightwing stopped reaching inside, body ramrod still. “What’s dangerous?” he asked evenly.
Jason’s mouth trembled. He didn’t want to say it. Especially in front of Nightwing, who Jason tried so hard to live up to. But this wasn’t about him.
“I got hit with pollen,” Jason confessed, eyes going wet behind his domino. “I-I’m so hungry.”
Nightwing stared at him, expression indecipherable.
“Y-You need to l-leave before it’s too l-late.”
But it was already too late. Jason felt the last tendrils of his control slip and the full force of his allure billowed out. Nightwing was so far away. Why was he so far away? Jason was so hungry.
Nightwing leaned back when Jason reached forward, jaw tight. Anger, some part of Jason’s brain distantly bleated, terrified of the older vigilante’s rage and disdain. But Jason was too hungry to care. There was a human right in front of him and his bones were shattering with the urge to feed.
“This is a terrible idea,” Nightwing forced through gritted teeth. Jason ignored the babble of human words and kept reaching forward, crooning for the warmth he didn’t have. “Oh, fuck it,” Nightwing exhaled explosively, stripping his gloves.
He reached back.
The first touch of skin was heaven. Jason melted into Nightwing’s touch, reaching forward to drag them closer. There was a steel barrier around Nightwing’s brilliance, a wall Jason had no wish to climb, so he just slithered underneath and inside.
It was like he’d climbed into the sun.
Jason basked in the warmth, carried by a tide of liquid sunshine, searing but somehow not burning. There were pockets of darkness—frustration that he soothed away, tension that he melted, tiny pinpricks of fear he brushed aside.
There was a gasp and a strangled sound. “Oh, gods,” came reverberating with surprise, “I was not expecting this.”
There were flashes of curiosity that Jason pounced on, following them when they darted out of reach, giggling at the game. When he finally caught one, he peered into it. That was him!
Jason’s own joy flowed like rivulets, tangling with the streams of sunshine and gentling the flow. He felt like he could bask here forever.
“Gotta—gotta get you to the Batmobile,” voice grunted. Control tickled in and out as Jason tried to grab it. “Come on. Why’re you so heavy?”
That was fondness, a surge of it that wrapped around Jason like a hug. Jason flopped down, soothed by the warmth and inescapably content.
This was perfection.
He dimly registered the dull vibrations of an engine starting and a clipped status update, but then there were arms wrapping around him, mirroring the emotions he was tangled with, and Jason slipped easily into sleep.