A plastic box gets shoved to his chest.
Only because he allows it, obviously, because the little gremlin of a brat is still several lifetimes away from being able to get a drop on him.
Though the demon spawn is also a picture of silence, lips pursed and shoulders tense where his fist extends to press whatever he bought on Jason’s pecs.
With a barely audible sigh, Jason peels that arm off to see what it was that demanded his attention so badly that the kid broke into one of the few safe-houses Jason thought was off the Bat-radar.
The answer is a thick box, covered with a glossy sleeve. On the cover are a group of five men piled on top of each other, composed artfully to look like a playful candid rather than an unfortunate accident. The only other thing on it is a logo stylized to look like a clock. Jason might be able to read where the lines form ‘SPF50’.
He sends Damian a blank look. The kid visibly heckles.
“Tt.” he starts, “This isn’t for me- I would like to emphasize that, for the record.”
Pause. Damian crosses his arms. “It’s Jon. He gave me an adequate birthday gift. It would be a dishonor to reciprocate with anything less.”
Jason replies to that with a hand gesture. What the hell does that have to do with him?
Damian looks at him like he’s rotten meat. Jason returns the glare twofold.
A frustrated groan. The kid almost swipes his arm back- like he was about to reach for his katana before realizing he’s out of costume. “Are you daft, Todd? I am asking for a favor. Name your price.”
“Yeah, Shrimp, I got that.” Jason bites back, “I’m just wonderin’ why the hell anythin’ related to this-“ he holds up the album, “-would be somethin’ I have an in with.”
Without missing a beat, Damian swipes back the album and pulls a card out from the middle to show him.
It’s a low angle selfie, cutting the pictured man off at the forehead. Stray locks, black with a blue-ish tint, fall just at the edge of the frame, and shadow a pair of striking blue eyes. Below that is a lopsided grin showing off a row of straight teeth. The rest of the picture is a swath of yellow- maybe a hoodie? Its laughably big though, dipping low enough to show the prominent curves of the man’s collarbones.
“This is why.” Damian says, before Jason could get a word in. “Your paramour, he’s Jon’s favorite in the group. He must be detestable if he has stooped low enough to romantically engage with you of all people, but nevertheless. Have him and his group sign this album and I will owe you one favor.”
“Huh.” Jason starts. Stops. Considers if he’s in the mood to start a fight. Sighs instead. “You’re outta luck, kid. I don’t know any of these guys.”
Damian’s eyes narrow. He steps forward in a stomp. “Don’t try and lie to me, Todd. Everyone has confirmed you are dating this idol. Agree to my terms before I am pushed to use force-Ow!”
Jason’s fingers moved to flick Damian’s forehead before he even registers that they did. “You can’t force me to do anythin’, Brat. I’ll send you back to your Mom.”
He flicks the other’s nose this time before he can respond, garnering another indignant squawk. “And two- just because you heard Blondie constantly yammerin’ about it doesn’t make it a public fact.”
Jason moves for the chin this time, but Damian has jumped away from striking range and looks a second away from hissing.
Jason would probably hiss back at him if he did. Something about this kid is just makes you want to mess with him.
But Damian seems to already be in retreat mode, sulkily skulking back to Jason’s fire escape with a deep scowl.
“Fine.” he says, right by the threshold of the apartment. “You prove yourself yet again useless. But just so you know Brown isn’t the only one talking- Father also suspects.”
And he’s gone just as Jason opens his mouth.
