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“I just want you to act like you care, Oscar,” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers as you stare at the man from across the room.

It’s just odd, how normal he’s been acting since the season ended. Since he lost the championship. You’d expected something from him, anger, sadness, any type of lashing out. That’s what you would have done. But it’s been nothing but a little bit of disappointment followed by resignation.

“I do care, do you think I’d be driving if I didn’t?” Oscar scoffs, shrugging his shirt on as he shakes his head, as if you were being the unreasonable one. “I fought and I lost, no need to beat myself up about it. I’ve got another shot next season.”

“And what if you don’t?” You ask, sitting up from your position in bed. Oscar has to be at the factory soon, hastily getting dressed, but you can’t let this go. “The car might not be as good. If it is, the team clearly favors Lando and you know it. What if—”

“Would you quit it already?” You’ve never heard Oscar actually sound mad before, never even dreamt of it being pointed at you. The closest you’ve heard him get was frustration. It’s obvious that his tone has taken you aback because he sighs softly, continuing to speak in his normal calm tone.

“I don’t want to think about all the ways next season can go wrong, alright? I can’t control that, just like I can’t control what happened with the championship. I’m not gonna stress myself out, that doesn’t mean I’m not upset. But being upset won’t change it.”

There’s only silence between the two of you for a few moments, charged and awkward, making you wish you could escape. Maybe you shouldn’t have pressed so hard, but it’s in your nature, to get mad on his behalf. 

“Alright,” You murmur softly, gnawing on your lower lip as you watch him finish getting dressed, grabbing his wallet and keys. “Okay. I’m sorry, I should have backed off sooner.”

“You’re my boyfriend, you’re supposed to be upset for me.” Oscar replies, making you smile softly, a gentle huff of a laugh escaping you. “We’ll talk more about it when I get back?”

You nod and he finally crosses the room, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth before rushing out the door, not wanting to be later than he already is.

Maybe you should start learning to think more like him.

♡ 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎:

Acts of service: He enjoys doing things for you more than anything, needs to do things for you in a way. He wants to feel necessary, like he has a purpose. He hates it when you do something yourself instead of asking him to do it, no matter how menial the task is. It’s rare that you do chores or fix something around the house, Jason always manages to get to it first.

Quality time: Enjoys just being in the same room as you, both of you doing your own stuff. A bit like a cat in this regard, not necessarily wanting attention but wanting your company. It calms his nerves more than anything else, having you around.

Physical touch: It’s been a long time since Jason has felt a loving touch, one that isn’t stilted or threatening or coming from someone who’s trying to hurt him. He’s against it at first, not letting you touch him in any way that leaves him vulnerable. But slowly over time you manage to break down his walls and he nearly does a full 180, surprising you with just how much he adores you touching him.

♡ 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎:

Clingy, which no one ever believes when you tell them. Soft when he knows he doesn’t have to be on guard, able to relax in the comfort of y’all’s home. Goes through phases of being overly quiet or overly chatty pretty quickly.

♡ 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌:

Always slightly on guard, never fully relaxed, even when he’s with you. Once the two of you are further into your relationship, he rarely lets go of your hand when you two are out, revelling in your touch now that he allows himself to have it. Aside from his obvious protectiveness, he’s very much the same as he is in private.

♡ 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐:

Almost always a home date, something comfortable and familiar.

Quiet nights in, curled up in bed and watching a movie after Jason gets back from patrol, both of you inevitably falling asleep in the middle of it.

Shopping. He doesn’t seem like the type, but both of you adore thrifting and shopping for books, things like that.

♡ 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞:

After a particularly bad patrol where, instead of going back to his own apartment, he ended up at yours without even realizing it, having acted on autopilot. You had always had a suspicion about who he was, smart enough to figure it out just a little bit into you two dating, that was one of the things he liked about you. But when you welcomed him in without hesitation, allowing him to lay in your bed without even showering first, just laying down with him and holding him, he knew he didn’t need anything other than you.

♡ 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜:

Baby and sweetheart. He calls you those more than he calls you by their name, whether he’s being sweet or teasing, he always uses those.

Caring but lazy, nearly crushing you with his body weight as he comes close to falling asleep with you held tight in his arms.

He always makes sure you’re okay before anything else, brushing your damp hair off of your forehead and neck, calloused fingers pressing into your lower back to soothe the tight muscles. 

Neither of you care enough to clean up immediately after, though you do end up regretting it sometimes when you wake up. It’s impossible to get Nico to move away from you once he’s fallen asleep, stuck in his hold until the next morning, though it is comforting even though you’d never tell him.

“So shy,” You murmur as you straddle Franco’s lap, grinning sharply as his gaze darts off to the side, his cheeks darkening with color. “Never done this before, baby?”

He swallows roughly, a sheepish smile crawling onto his lips as he shakes his head, still not looking you in the eyes, his gaze roaming all over the rest of your body, at the effortless way you move in his lap.

“No my—a coworker…paid for this.”

You laugh softly at the admission. “A coworker?” You tease, just barely brushing against his clothed cock, delighted by the cut off yelp Franco makes. It’s been so long since you’ve gotten to have some real fun with a client. You already know Franco’s going to be so good for you, you can see it in his eyes.

“What’s your name?”

He hesitates for a second, lashes fluttering as you feel his cock kick beneath you. “Franco,” He shudders, raising his hands like he wants to touch you before lowering them back down, nails digging into the leather of the couch. “What—what’s yours?”

“Just call me Bunny, baby.”

Franco whimpers, finally meeting your eyes and you coo softly. You don't get clients like him often, so shy and pretty, it almost makes you want to take him home with you.

“I’ll be gentle with you, okay?” It’s so easy to tease him, a ruddy colour appearing darker on Franco’s cheeks with each word that comes out of your mouth. “So sweet.”

Slowly, your hands move down, trailing down Franco’s arms to rest on top of his own hands. His gaze tracks your movements, lips parting as you move his hands to rest on your hips, thumbs brushing your bare skin. Franco curses under his breath, his hips moving ever so slightly, as if it took a herculean effort to keep still.

“You can enjoy yourself, Franco,” You murmur as you lean in close, breath brushing against his ear, your teeth nipping at the lobe. “Loosen up a little, hmm?”

His hands twitch as you speak, fingers digging into your flesh almost enough to hurt. A grin tugs at your lips as Franco listens, loosening up just the slightest amount, still taking effort to hold himself back. 

“Lindo,” Franco whispers, so soft you almost miss it. He groans under his breath at a particular movement, breath hitching when you repeat it, over and over again. He starts muttering desperately, though you’re not quite sure what he’s saying with it all being in Spanish, but his tone tells you enough.

Suddenly stilling your movements, Franco’s eyes finally shoot up to meet yours, wide and wet as he stares at your face. You don’t have it in yourself to deny him any longer, not with him looking at you like that, slowly continuing to grind in his lap, the bulge in his pants larger than before, twitching with every movement.

He’s such a pretty sight when he comes, jaw falling slack as his eyes slip shut, stray tears slipping from the corners as he crashes over the edge almost silently, save for a few whimpers as he catches his breath.

It’s the best sight you’ve seen in a while. Such a shame that you can’t stay to watch, though.

“Come back soon, baby.” You murmur in Franco’s ear, biting your lip as you smile, watching him go through the aftershocks of his orgasm, breath hitching and body tensing. Smoothing out the collar of his shirt, you pat his chest before standing up and slinking away, leaving Franco to deal with himself.

Quiet and calming, a steadying force at your side.

There’s always a glass of water sitting on the bedside, aspirin beside it in case you need it.

He’s concise, getting you into a warm and comfortable bath quickly, knowing you don’t like being so sweaty and messy. As you bathe, he’s busy getting you some light food to snack on before you inevitably fall asleep, mainly fruits and another glass of water. It’s the only time he lets you eat in his bed.

As you eat, diligently hand feeding him every few bites, he murmurs soft words against your temple, little praises he knows help you stay afloat, pressing gentle kisses to your skin every once in a while. It’s easy to fall asleep like that, with him still whispering in your ear, a smile on your face all night until you wake up the next morning.