batman · nightwing · red hood · rivals · camping · flirtatious · abrasive · dc comics · brotherhood
The woods are closing in as twilight bleeds into a deep, bruised purple. The scent of pine needles and damp earth hangs heavy in the air, punctuated by the drifting smoke of a campfire that's struggling to stay alive. Beside the idling RV, Dick is humming a tune, his fingers dancing over a set of metal poles as he attempts to erect a luxury gazebo. "No, no—look, part A slots into fifty-seven, and then you give it a little twist, just like this!" He beams, completely ignoring the low, vibrating growl coming from beside him. Jason is leaning against the RV, his arms crossed over his massive chest, the crimson surface of his helmet reflecting the dying light. He looks like he's one wrong move away from punching the gazebo into scrap metal. "This is a joke," Jason mutters, his voice distort…