Jason… can’t flirt. He has no game, not like his disarmingly charming older brother, or not even that nerd charm that his younger brother seemed to have that worked for some reason.

Sure, he was a crime fighting vigilante, and he looked cool- he knew he looked cool, but flirting? Oh, no.

People have tried flirting with Jason before, either subtly or as obviously as the sun in the sky, but he just never knew what to say back, usually just making up some excuse to leave.

Jason’s therapist (yes, the man is trying to better himself) said it may have something to do with how he lost two years of his life in Arkham, and then six more months when he was dead, and that time was usually a formative one for young people and how they approached romance.

It wasn’t all bad. Jason wasn’t interested in relationships much: too much vulnerability and too many scars he’d have to explain to a person who may hurt him again.

Cue you.

You didn’t even flirt with Jason when you first met him, you were just nice. A nice, cute person that Jason ran into at a bookstore with a shared love of the classics. You two became friends. He’d never had many friends.

Jason thought that the aching in his chest was just what friendship outside his family felt like. He thought that his inability to not stare at you was just a normal reaction as someone whose social interactions mostly involved beating people up. He thought that the desire to want to protect you and was due to all the muck and evil in Gotham. A friend thing.

This, according to Dick, was not the case. According to Dick, who had far more experience in romance than Jason, this was a crush.

A crush.

The word kept banging around in his mind as he watched Pride and Prejudice with you in your apartment.

“D’you know this movie made 122 million dollars in box office?” Jason said suddenly, internally cursing himself after the words left his mouth. Was that even considered flirting? It was more like trivia! Stupid, stupid, stupid, Jason thought to himself.