Chapter Text
There is a man floating parallel to the old carpet floor of Jason's apartment.
More accurately, it's his downstairs neighbour, Daniil Nightingale, in all his 6'5, Cruella de Vil-coloured hair and dalmatian print jammies glory floating—and snoring— a foot and a half above Jason's floor.
What the fuck.
Jason glances at the clock he has mounted above the 32-inch flatscreen TV - 3:40 am - and back to the sleeping mountain of a man. Partly because he's still in his Red Hood gear and because he's pretty sure he's met Daniil as Jason before he's not keen on waking him up just yet to ask why on earth he's floating in the middle of his living room.
Silently, he tip-toes to his bedroom where he changes to his Pjs- Wonder Woman, always Wonder Woman- and returns to the living room to wake the man up and demand some answers.
Daniil is still there when he returns and Jason approaches him with caution, careful not to startle him awake too violently.
Jason clears his throat. Nothing happens.
He says softly, "Time to wake up."
Nothing.
He tries louder.
The man does not move. Seems that he sleeps like the dead.
Slowly and carefully, Jason shakes Daniil's shoulders. Unsurprisingly nothing happens again. Save perhaps the fact that Jason's shaking moved the man half a foot closer to the floor.
Huh. He can work with that.
Jason continues pushing Daniil towards the floor — it'll be easier, he tells himself, to wake him up if he's not floating — and lo and behold!
Daniil is now halfway through the carpet.
Fucking fuck!
Well, that answers how he got here.
With a final big push, Daniil's form sinks downstairs and Jason hopes he didn't just kill his neighbour accidentally.
He mentally notes to check on him in the morning to see if he's alright and then, perhaps, follow him around a bit because if he's a meta— Scratch that he's definitely a meta. Anyway, he should make sure Daniil is not in any danger because of it and that he is not a danger.
Yeah. That could work. No need to alert the Bat yet.
Dan isn't an idiot. He's known since day one that his upstairs neighbour is the infamous crime lord Red Hood. It's why he chose this apartment to begin with. Not that he'll ever tell the squirt or Ellie that. Nah.
He quite enjoys his 'parole' as Danny puts it. No need to get souped that soon after he finally got out. And got gifted a neat human body by the Old Time Fart.
Sadly, he's been threatened with extended soup time if he dares joins a gang — Red Hood's included— not only by the squirt but Ellie too and — don't tell anyone — Ellie he respects and sometimes even fears. Best clone sister a man could ever dream of.
Anyway. He can't join Red Hood in his maiming business but he can be his neighbour and friend. Plus, nobody said he couldn't date a crime lord and Lord, Red Hood is such a fine piece of ass. With mask or without.
Which leads Dan to the current predicament. Red Hood in his civvies is following him to work for some ancient's damned reason. He thinks he's being sneaky, hiding in Gotham's long shadows, tip-toeing around like an itty-bittie mouse, or well, bat.
Might as well play with him a little.
The café Danny approved of as a 'normal job for a human in his early twenties' — whatever that means— doesn't open for an hour more. Dan had been meaning to walk through the park for a while and enjoy the silence before rush hour starts but he's considering taking a more… scenic route instead.
He leads Jason around the shadiest fucking areas in the goddamn neighbourhood and makes a point to linger in alleys and actively seek out danger. It's not like anyone has the barest of chances to actually harm him but Red Hood doesn't know that; in fact, he's probably suspicious of Dan now that he thinks about it and well…
Never it be said Dan does anything halfhearted. Playing tag with his hot crime lord slash vigilante neighbour in the worst parts of Crime Alley included.
A couple of muggers cower the moment they lay eyes on him— good— and he continues his walk whistling a Humpty Dumpty song, hands slack in the pocket of his hoodie.
When the time his shift begins approaches he makes his way to the little book café that decided employing a war criminal is legit for its business development. Not that they know it, but the thought makes Dan smile.
Jason's face when he enters the Coffee Library and he sees Dan in his pink and brown apron is priceless.
"Oh hey, Jason, was it? What can I get ya?"
Jason stares at Daniil unblinkingly, eyes wandering from the little smirk on the man’s lips to the low bun he wears his dual-coloured hair in and then to — nope. Not gonna stare at his chest. Or arms. God those arms. They look so good in his uniform.
Nu-uh. Brain outta the gutter Jason!
“Hi,” he manages to croak out, silently berating his mind for betraying him. He had a plan and everything damnit! A plan, you hear that brain? His possibly-definitely meta neighbour is suspish as fuck. Wandering Crime Alley like that early in the morning! Given, he didn’t actually do anything other than walk and whistle punk rock songs but still! Suspicious!
Daniil cocks a single thick black eyebrow at him.
Jason clears his throat.
“Daniil, I didn’t know you worked here.” Good job Jason, way to make yourself a fool in front of the Person of Interest.
Daniil snorts, eyes glimmering in amusement. “It’s pronounced DaniEEL not DAHnil, but you can call me Dan, pretty boy.” He winks. “So, what would you like to order?”
Jason’s face feels uncomfortably hot all of a sudden. He swallows thickly. Stares at the blackboard catalogue on the wall behind Dan for a few seconds. “Spiced black tea… and an apricot croissant, please.”
“I see you’re a man of culture as well,” mutters Dan under his breath, punching Jason’s order in the machine.
“What was that?” Jason asks innocently.
Dan shakes his head. “Nothin’. Just pleased I don’t have to prepare some sort of caffeine monstrosity so early in the morning.”
“Not a fan of coffee?”
“Doesn’t agree with me, though my little brother loves it. Makes me pump him a glass of 12 shots of espresso every time he passes by. Drinks it black too. The heathen. ”
Jason huffs out a low laugh. “Sounds like your brother would get along great with mine ."
Dan lets out a world-weary sigh. “Promise me to never let them meet.”
“I won’t say anything if you don’t say anything,” says Jason in a conspiratorial whisper.
“Deal.”
And that’s the moment he realises he’s grown too comfortable in the other man’s presence. He’s supposed to be investigating, goddamnit, not sharing family titbits. Though, he gotta admit Dan seems remarkably normal for a man that levitated his way into Jason’s apartment in the wee hours of the morning and led him to the world’s most dangerous stroll through Crime Alley at 6 o’ fucking clock.
Fuckity fuck.
Dan was supposed to mess with Jason. Make him think he belongs in Arkham or Blackgate or whatever other Soup equivalent they have in Gotham. Ya know, impress him, the big bad Crime Lord. He wasn’t supposed to engage in small talk with the man, and more importantly, he wasn’t supposed to like it.
What a mess. He even called the squirt ‘his brother’ for fuck’s sake.
Oh well, when in Rome and all that shit.
He’s about to go to Jason’s table to pester him some more, on account of the cafe being empty and whatnot, when the door jingle thing chimes.
Dan curses under his breath.
Fucking rush hour.
Jason has been meaning to stay in the cafe for the bare minimum; eat his breakfast and drink his tea and go back to sleep until sundown because — phew — two hours is by no means enough to sustain his nightly activities, no matter what Tim ‘Never Sleep’ Drake claims. Instead, he’s been here for six hours already —has ordered lunch too— deeply engrossed in The Song of Achilles, his mission completely forgotten.
Well sue him, he’s been meaning to read this book for ages now and it just stared at him mockingly in all its blue and white glory from the bookcase across from him. What’s a man gonna do? Ignore it?
“Is the book any good?” Dan’s deep voice rumbles. He doesn’t wait for Jason’s answer and sits across from him, hands propped under his chin.
“It’s great.” Jason huffs a laugh. He memorises the page number and leaves it to the side. “Don’t tell me your manager told you to scare me off already.”
Dan hums and smiles. Jason thinks he can see too-sharp, too-long canines. “Well.. you’ve been here for six hours already. But no, Mrs G actually thinks you’re good for business. So, congrats! You can stay for as long as you like!”
“Hurray!” Jason says in a monotone voice and claps his hands once. “No, but seriously, it’s a great place for reading.”
“ Oh gee, I wonder why that is? It’s not like it’s literally named the Coffee Library or something!”
A peal of laughter escapes Jason’s mouth. Damn it. He likes the guy. Meta or possible goon or both.
“Speaking of which, how come a big guy like you—”
“Lives in Crime Alley and works a normal mundane job at a cafe?” Damn the guy is sharp. “I mean what would I do? Join a gang?” he scoffs. Perhaps Jason had misjudged him. Perhaps he really is just a normal-ish dude that happens to be built like a brick shit-house. “‘Sides Crime Alley rent is dirt cheap. And it’s not like anybody with half a brain would dare break into my place! I mean have you seen me?” He grins and yep, those are definitely fangs. “Gotta ask you back though, what are you doing in our pretty little corner in Gotham?”
Jason blinks once. Twice. He shrugs a shoulder. Might as well go with his cover story around Crime Alley. “Work for RH. Soup kitchens,” — Jason thinks he hears Dan say ‘ew soup’ under his breath— “protection, that sort of thing.”
Dan nods in understanding. "I see, I see."
"You… want an in with RH?" Jason tries and fails to pass as nonchalant. It would make sense to employ him in his crime ring if only to keep tabs on him better. Not because Dan's an absolute unit, no sire .
Dan snorts out a laugh in response. Shakes a dismissive hand. "Nah, I'll pass," he says and Jason can help but feel disappointed. "Not that life in crime doesn't sound absolutely irresistible, but I'd hate to disappoint my siblings. I promised to behave," he smirks.
"I can't tell if you're messing with me or not."
Dan shrugs. "The interpretation is up to you, pretty boy. "
He works for Red Hood! Hah! As if. But Dan can appreciate a good cover story and despite what his siblings might think of him he’s not one to unmask a vigilante crime lord in the middle of a busy cafe. So he plays the understanding Crime Alley resident and declines the offer for work despite knowing that it would be thrilling to do anything else than brewing tea and coffee for entitled Gothamites all day long.
And when he calls Red Hood a pretty boy… Well, let’s just say that the man in question can blush in such a pretty shade of red that makes his signature helmet seem almost obsolete. He realises at that moment that he’d love to see Jason blushing again.
Aw, fuck.
He likes likes him, doesn’t he?