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Dick loved Jazz. He really did. She was incredible—strong, smart, funny, and probably the only person on Earth who could keep up with him in a spar without wanting to throttle him. She got his jokes, finished his sentences, and punched him in the arm whenever he got too smug.
They were supposed to be perfect for each other.
So why was he in love with Dan?
Why had his wedding day been filled with flashes of ice-blue eyes and a voice that always sounded just a little too unimpressed?
Why did his stomach drop every time he thought about Dan looking at him with something almost like affection, only to turn away like it had never been there?
It was driving him insane.
And Jazz—God, poor Jazz. She was so good, so devoted, so present, and Dick? Dick was the worst husband alive.
He’d caught himself zoning out during dinner last week, staring at his fork like it was the most interesting thing in the world, because Jazz had mentioned something in passing, and his brain had gone straight to how Dan would never say something like that. Dan doesn’t talk that much. Dan doesn’t talk at all unless he had to.
Jazz deserved better. She deserved someone who wasn’t actively fantasizing about her brother at the worst possible moments.
And worst of all?
She had no idea.
He was a such horrible person
Jazz was losing her mind.
She was in love with her husband. She knew she was. Dick was amazing—bright and loud and brilliant, always moving, always there. He made her laugh, he made her feel seen, he made life fun.
So why was Jason the one she thought about late at night?
Why was it his voice that echoed in her head when she had a bad day? Why did she find herself catching her breath when he smiled, when he laughed, when he looked at her like she was something worth knowing?
It was awful. It was disgusting. It was—
It was fine. She’d bury it. She’d ignore it.
Dick loved her. She loved Dick. Everything was fine.
Except…
Except Dick had been distracted lately. Not in the normal “up all night on patrol” way. No, this was different.
He was off.
He’d started spacing out in the middle of conversations, looking guilty when she caught him. He’d smile too wide, laugh too loud, cover up whatever he was thinking with that performance of his, but Jazz knew him too well.
Something was wrong.
She wanted to ask, but she didn’t. Because if she asked, maybe he’d ask back. Maybe he’d say why are you acting weird too? Why do you freeze when Jason calls? Why do you look at him like—
No. No, she wasn’t going to think about that.
Everything was fine.
Things got worse.
Dick started overcompensating.
Big romantic gestures, flowers, expensive dinners, soft kisses on her forehead, murmured I love yous like he was trying to convince himself they were real.
Jazz responded in kind.
Lingering touches, doting smiles, playing the role of the perfect wife because God help her, she was going to make this work.
And in their desperate attempts to fix a problem neither of them had named, they didn’t notice what was happening right in front of them.
Didn’t notice the way Dick’s eyes always strayed when Dan was in the room, how his voice softened just slightly when they spoke.
Didn’t notice the way Jazz’s breath hitched when Jason laughed, how she leaned in just a little too much when he talked to her.
Didn’t notice that they were both drowning, clinging to each other in a sinking ship, hoping that if they just held on tight enough, they wouldn’t go under.
And it was only a matter of time before the whole thing collapsed.
It all came crashing down over brunch.
Dick had been jittery all morning, bouncing his leg under the table, stirring his coffee five times before taking a sip. Jazz had been the same, shoveling food into her mouth like it might stop her from blurting out something catastrophic.
They were a mess. A mutual, collective disaster.
And then—
"Jazz, I—"
"Dick, I—"
They both stopped, blinking at each other. Jazz swallowed, setting her fork down.
"You first," she said, voice tight.
Dick inhaled sharply. This was it. This was the moment he ruined everything.
"I'm—" He scrubbed a hand through his hair, bracing himself for impact. "I'm in love with someone else."
Silence.
A long, heavy, horrifying silence.
And then—
"Oh thank God," Jazz blurted out, nearly knocking her coffee over.
Dick blinked. "What?"
"I'm in love with someone else too," she said, her shoulders sagging like someone had finally lifted a hundred-pound weight off her back. "Oh my God, Dick, I thought I was the worst person alive, I was so scared to tell you—"
"You were scared?" Dick let out a laugh, giddy with relief. "Jazz, I have been dying inside for months. I was ready to take this to my grave!"
"Me too! I literally almost repressed myself into a coma!"
"Jesus Christ," Dick groaned, pressing his forehead to the table. "I thought I was going to break your heart."
"I thought I was going to break yours!"
They both sat there, laughing, light-headed, free.
A moment passed before Jazz smirked, leaning forward. "So. Who is it?"
Dick hesitated. And then, because there was no point in lying anymore—
"Dan."
Jazz's smirk vanished. Her eyes widened. "Wait—my Dan?"
"Uh." Dick winced. "Yeah?"
She blinked. Then blinked again. Then—
"Oh my God."
"What?"
"Oh my God, how could we not see it before?" she muttered, rubbing her temples.
Dick frowned. "Wait. See what? What does that mean?"
Jazz took a deep breath, and then—
"I'm in love with Jason."
It took a second for that to register.
Then—
"MY Jason?!"
Jazz shrugged, unapologetic. "Apparently."
Dick gawked at her. "No way."
"Yes Way."
"Oh my God."
"Right?!"
For a long, long moment, they just stared at each other.
And then—
They started laughing.
Deep, gut-wrenching, gasping-for-air laughing. The kind that hurt. The kind that felt like they were unraveling years of tension in one go.
"How did we not notice?" Jazz wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes.
"I have no idea!" Dick gasped. "I was so busy feeling guilty, I didn’t even think to ask why you kept getting all weird around Jason!"
"And I was so caught up in my own disaster," Jazz snorted, "I didn’t even see you staring at Dan like he personally invented the concept of breathing!"
They both dissolved into laughter again, until finally, finally, the weight of the past few months lifted completely.
Jazz leaned back in her chair, still chuckling. "So. What do we do now?"
Dick hummed, stretching his arms behind his head. "Well. We could get a divorce."
"Obviously."
"And then we could—y'know. Maybe—try something else?"
Jazz smirked. "Are you asking me if we should ask each other's brothers out?"
Dick grinned. "I mean. I feel like we kinda have to at this point."
Jazz snorted. "God, we are such disasters."
"Yeah," Dick agreed, still grinning.
They clinked their coffee mugs together like it was a toast and for the first time in a while didnt feel the overwhelming weight of lying to your patner.
Somewhat Inspired by EDA's beautiful art, Thank you, @demonic0angel , for being so ridiculously creative and talented that I can’t even sit back and enjoy your work in peace.
No, instead, you had to go and make me feel creative too, and now I have the unbearable urge to post things. I hope you’re proud of yourself.