Dp x Dc AU: Jason and Jazz have been dating for a while and... Danny presumes that because he knows about Jason being Red Hood that Jason knows about Phantom.
Danny got a text randomly in the afternoon from Jazz’s boyfriend. Which was inherently a strange experience considering Jason was typically dead asleep in the afternoon from all his ‘evening shifts’ and Jazz was in class. Stranger, the message just asked if Danny would be free to meet up today for a short chat. Jason doesn’t reply to Danny’s response of “Anything for my sister’s BOO <3.”
Normally, Jason would start launching into a rant about Danny’s coffee choice being too like his little brother’s when they met at cafes- right now Jason looks deadly serious.
“Look. I’ll cut to the chase of it all. I want to ask Jazz to marry me and well, your folks are shitty but it feels weird to not ask for permission.”
“...Okay?”
“So do I have permission?” Jason asks, a bit of a glare and Danny can see the RedHood’s famous attitude peeking out with the abundance of anxiety Jason must be feeling.
“I mean, Yeah! She loves you and I know she’s been subliminally messaging you to find your balls and ask her already.” Danny rolls his eyes and laughs. His brother-in-law to be sure was a strange guy, but he liked him all the more because of it.
Jason sighs in relief and his normal literature nerd, easy going and plucky ‘cool guy’ attitude comes back. They start chatting about the ring he bought for her, how they’re probably going to have to do a small wedding with his family members to appease his grandpa figure. Its all very cute and optimistic.
“Love it! She mentioned your grandpa’s rose garden before and that’ll be perfect for human family events before the big ceremony.”
“Big Ceremony?” Jason sounds unsure of where the conversation is going.
“Yeah, you know. Plus now that I’m thinking about it, it’s probably for the best that you asked me, the observants would totally turn this into like, an interdimensional faux pa or something if I don’t give them a heads up.” Danny laughs at the idea of it causing an incident, but he can see Jason straighten his shoulders and his eyes attempt to pierce through him.
“Danny. What the fuck are you talking about?” Jason looks more pissed than he looks concerned, and Danny is just confused.
“Cause... You Know.”
“If you don’t give me a real answer I’m going to-” At least Jason was taking deep breaths.
“Hey man, chill out! I guess Jazz keeps it on the DL but my night shift has-”
“Night shift? You’re an engineer.” Jason cuts him off and the fact sounds accusatory.
“And I’m the Ghost King? You knew this?” Danny relents, he hated saying it out loud cause it sounded lame, but he’s not sure why Jason is so up in arms all of a sudden. Jason looked like he might have an aneurysm and Danny knows his expression is declaring Jason is the biggest Dumbass in the world.
“Danny ...what the fuck are you trying to say to me right now?”
“That you and Jazz have to have a royal wedding in the Infinite Realms or my counsel and advisors will throw an absolute fit.”
Jason doesn’t reply so Danny decides to add “You know, ‘cause my title translates to the Family’s royal lineage and if you marry Jazz you’ll become a Prince. I guess you don’t technically have to have a big wedding but if you don’t it’ll just mean shit loads of paperwork and a huge fucking headache on my end. Which I can survive but... I’m sensing that you’re frustrated. Let’s call Jazz.”
“Let’s do that.” Jason sounds like he’s being strangled. Danny thinks it’s a bit dramatic but is excited to help Jazz wedding plan.
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Number 2 from the 50 cliché tropes and prompts
Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn't help but steal it
Buck never understood why he had lost so many sweatshirts and button-downs to past girlfriends. Nine times out of ten, they didn't even remotely fit their figure and they were only worn in the comfort of Buck's home anyways.
Then he started staying over Tommy's house more and more. He'd always come prepared–an overnight bag filled with an extra LAFD shirt, a pair of jeans, a pair of chinos, and two shirts, one with a collar and one without–just in case he needed to rush out in the morning.
This morning, he isn’t quite as prepared as he wishes he had been. Tommy’s in the shower after sleepily kissing Buck good morning and Buck promised he’d run Hercules–Tommy’s ten-year-old retired racing greyhound–outside before Tommy dropped Buck off at work. Thunder crashes outside and rain pounds on the roof, and Buck didn’t even think to bring a jacket.
He looks around the bedroom closet, careful not to invade the private space too much, but he doesn’t see anything that might help. He knows there’s an umbrella waiting beside the door, but he’s already shivering from the chill sneaking in through the closed windows and Buck knows he’ll need something to protect his skin.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a pullover laid neatly on top of the laundry pile. It’s similar to his LAFD one, but a lighter blue that matches Tommy’s on-duty uniform. It won’t keep him dry, but it’ll keep him warm and keep the water off of his skin which is all he has time to care about. He snatches it up and shouts to Tommy that he’s taking the dog outside even though he’s not sure he’s heard.
Before he gets too far, Buck pauses to get the pullover on. The first thing he notices is how much bigger it is on him. He’s not a small guy by any means, and he’s not much smaller than Tommy–at least he thinks–but there’s so much extra fabric that he has to bundle it up at his waist. He can also tell that the back doesn’t stretch taut against his shoulder blades and that the neckline slouches a little in the front.
It’s strange to wear something so unfit for him, but at the same time, Buck can’t help but feel giddy. He glances at himself in the mirror and feels small, but not in the way he usually does. It doesn’t make him feel inconsequential or overlooked, but like he’s protected and well-loved. It stirs inside of his stomach until the joy begins to bubble in his chest.
He notices that Tommy’s name is embroidered just over his heart, and he brings his fingers there to trace over the lettering. It takes everything in him not to whisper his name combined with Tommy’s last and he wonders if this was how his old girlfriends felt when they stole his LAFD shirts that had his name brazen on the back.
Where he expected to be a bit embarrassed at the claiming nature of it all, he can’t help but feel… powerful. Yeah, there’s something powerful about wearing someone else's name, like he’s screaming to the world that Tommy is off-limits because he’s Buck’s.
He’s Buck’s.
He’s too busy thinking about what exactly that means for him to hear the bathroom door open and a freshly showered and shaved Tommy emerge. Another figure beside Buck’s reflection startles him but Tommy’s reassuring hands slide around his waist. It’s strange how normal it feels to have strong, long arms wrapped around him and a broad chest waiting to hold him up as he leans back against it.
“You’re wet,” Buck says, feeling the dampness on Tommy’s unclothed chest. He’s in sweatpants like he’s ready to lounge around for the day, but the bare skin of his upper body is clearly on display where Buck’s body isn’t hiding it. He wants to pull away just so he can take another peek.
Tommy doesn’t seem to notice nor care that Buck is analyzing them because he’s too busy doing the same. There’s something in his eyes, though, that sends an eruption of warmth to Buck’s face. Tommy tugs at the extra fabric at Buck’s waist like he’s having the same realization as Buck did, and then he slides one hand up Buck’s chest to trace his name. He whispers each letter like a secret into Buck’s ear, piercing eyes never leaving Buck’s in the mirror.
Buck shivers, pressing back against Tommy and leaning his head back so that it plops on Tommy’s shoulder comfortably. Tommy finishes his name before dragging a finger to the neckline of the pullover and letting it hang there like a weight that keeps Buck grounded.
“You’re wearing my jumper,” Tommy points out like he doesn’t already know. Buck suddenly feels anxious, like he’s made a horrible mistake, and stands back up straight. He turns to look at Tommy as he speaks.
“Is that okay? I didn’t bring a jacket so I figured—”
Tommy kisses him before he can finish, and Buck can only hope it becomes a pattern.
It’s just as soft as their first kiss and every kiss they’ve shared since then, but it grows in passion second by second. Tommy is gripping the fabric at Buck’s waist like he’s deciding whether he wants to pull it over Buck’s head or leave it on his forever. Buck holds his naked shoulders, palms sliding down the hard planes of his chest then his abs, before sliding underneath the waistband of his sweatpants.
When a cold nose hits his hand, Buck jumps back, out of breath and startled. Hercules is staring up at them like he’s let them have their fun and he’s done waiting to go outside. Tommy swipes at his face as he chuckles and Buck leans down to pat Herc’s head.
“I’m sorry, Buddy. Am I stealing all of your dad’s attention?” Buck coos, and he can almost hear Tommy’s good-natured eye roll.
“Well, if Evan here is done distracting me, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to take you outside, huh?”
“Oh, if Evan is done distracting you? Like you didn’t just walk out of the shower half-naked and damp and looking like you wanted to drop to your kn–” Buck inhales deeply when Tommy glances down then back up and raises his eyebrows. “Alright, I’m out of here. Be right back,” he promises, pressing one last kiss to Tommy’s reddened lips.
“Mhm,” Tommy hums, watching him start to walk away.
“Do you want your pullover back?” Buck asks, because he figures that’s what he would’ve wanted to be asked.
“As far as I’m concerned, it’s yours now.”
It sounds a lot like I’m yours now, but Buck doesn’t dare ask. Instead, he takes Hercules out, ignoring the storm rumbling above him, and strokes his thumb distractingly against Tommy’s name over his heart. He guesses he’s Tommy’s now, too.
(now on ao3)
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