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Sometimes when Jason looked at Dick, he could see his dad. Not so much in the face, and their hair was definitely different, but they had similar builds, and they moved the same.
They had the same look in their eyes that said that they were always thinking of the next leap, plotting out the course and the physicals of the upcoming swing, tracking everyone else in the equation to try and predict what they were going to do, making sure that the routine didn't go off the rails and, if it did, how to mitigate the fallout.
Also like his dad, Dick sometimes came in to kiss him goodnight, on the rare occasion that he came to babysit Jason.
Unlike his dad, Dick didn't always kiss him on the forehead.
Jason pretended to be asleep sometimes, kept his breath slow and even as Dick kissed his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose.
Then Dick would pull the covers down and--
Touch him.
Kiss him.
Whisper honeyed words against Jason's skin, praises and affections that paralleled so closely to the things his parents had called him.
Baby, sweetheart, honey, darling.
They sounded wrong spoken in that tone. It made Jason's stomach twist in little upset butterflies, made him feel kind of sick every time Dick stole another one of the words that had used to sound so nice coming from his parents' mouths.
Jason knew that what Dick was doing was wrong.
Jason had been trained on how to look for the signs in his classmates so that he could talk to them and offer help if they needed it.
Nobody ever offered Jason help.
Not even Bruce seemed to notice, or if he did then he pretended not to.
It was Dick, Jason couldn't say anything against Dick.
He was a hero, and if Jason was the only one being affected then that was fine.
Dick wasn't even hurting him, not really.
He apologized whenever Jason started to cry, kissing away his tears and holding him close when Jason tried to squirm away.
Jason never used the moves he'd learned for being Robin, he didn't want to hurt Dick, he just wanted him to stop, even more a moment.
It felt weird, what Dick did to him. It even felt good most of the time, when Dick would wrap his mouth around Jason's penis and suck on it until it started... doing things.
Jason wasn't a little kid, he knew what sex was, but he'd never really wanted to do that with anyone.
It wasn't like Dick asked what Jason wanted.
Or, well, sometimes he'd look at Jason, already holding him like a python, and he'd say "Can I?" When he wanted to try something new. Something that Jason knew he wasn't going to like.
Jason's response to that question never seemed to mean anything. If he said no then Dick would try to coax him, pressing wet, slimy kisses across Jason's neck and chest, looking at him with dark eyes and waiting out Jason's teary fit before continuing to do what he wanted anyway.
Eventually it just became easier to say yes in the first place.
Yes, Dick could kiss him.
Yes, Dick could touch his penis.
Yes, Dick could put his fingers then his tongue then his penis in Jason's butthole.
The last one hurt. A lot.
Dick would always shush him, promising to go slow, promising that it would feel good soon.
It never did.
Sometimes his body did things. worms squirming in his stomach as his penis got hard and leaked out gross liquids.
But it didn't feel good. Jason didn't like it.
Dick didn't seem to care all that much about that fact.
Then Dick would coo and coax Jason up out of bed and take him to the bathroom where he'd run a bath and help Jason clean himself up, his hands wandering anywhere they wanted while Jason was too exhausted to try do anything but let it happen.
Then Dick would tuck him back into bed, clean and warm and so, so cold inside.
Dick would kiss Jason on the forehead, smooth the covers out, and finally leave Jason alone.
Jason never really slept when Dick came over.
There weren't bruises, ever. Nothing that could be suspicious.
No evidence left behind.
If Bruce knew, he never said anything, and Jason was too scared to bring it up himself.
Bruce kept inviting Dick over to babysit, kept giving opportunities for them to "get to spend time together", which must have meant that even if he did know, not only did he not care; he was facilitating it all.
Giving Dick unrestricted access to Jason.
If it was anyone else, Jason could have fought back.
Would have fought back.
But it was Dick, and there was no way that Jason was going to beat Dick. Jason didn't want to beat Dick.
He just wanted Dick to stop touching him.
Nobody would have been able to touch Robin like that, Jason was sure. Batman would have stopped them.
Batman wasn't coming to save him at home.
Batman was offering him up as tribute to keep Dick happy.
Dick had never touched him before, the few times that Jason had met him before Jason's parents had died.
Dick had been friends with Jason's parents.
How could he stand to touch their kid? Had he always looked at Jason like that and Jason had just never noticed?
Had his parents noticed?
Would they have wanted him to go to Bruce Wayne, knowing that it would give Dick access to him?
Jason's dad would have never let anyone touch him like that. Jason knew that for certain.
Bruce wanted to be Jason's dad, but he wouldn't protect him from this.
Jason couldn't protect himself either.
So it was a Saturday night and Bruce was out on a case while Jason was home with a fever, Alfred had already gone to bed, and Dick was opening the door to Jason's room again.
Jason was too old to believe in monsters under the bed, but he knew full well that there was a monster beneath Dick Grayson's skin.