☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Robert knows you’re teasing the poor guy after he told you a joke that he was for sure would be a hit with you being someone who can talk to animals.

“Giraffes don’t even like the smell of alcohol.” You continue, and Robert stifles a laugh as he takes the leftovers from your hands to take it out to the trash can, exactly what you were just about to do before Sonar walked in with a pep in his step.

Sonar scrunches his nose, eyes blinking at you, as if perturbed at your reaction to his brilliant joke. “What? It’s— it’s just a joke, y’know funny haha?”

Robert snorts, hands brushing along yours, taking the boxes and the coffee cup, revealing the ring around your finger that sends his heart aflutter.

Your wedding ring glimmers under the fluorescent lights of the break room, the golden band that’s identical to his. Robert’s mind still hasn’t gotten over the whirlwind wedding you two had, one day, on a random Saturday morning, he suddenly just had the urge to marry you. He woke up to you drenched in sunlight, sleeping soundly, lashes fluttering, mouth slightly agape as your foot twitches underneath the covers. He doesn’t know what made him want to elope with you suddenly, whether it’s your fingers weakly grasping at his bicep whilst you were still asleep, or the way you uttered his name so sweetly while dreaming of him. Whatever it was, Robert wanted to marry you right then and there.

He woke you up with kisses on your skin, and the way you groaned and waved him away despite clinging closer to him with your face pressed to his bare chest. He said the simple words, “hey, you wanna get married today?” And it woke you up better than a freshly baked croissant would.

You didn’t ask “what?” or “right now?” Instead, you smiled in that saccharine way, the same smile after he kisses you, the same hazy smile after he showed you how much he loved you. And your hands slid above his heart, the pads of your fingertips drumming softly against his flushed skin as you answered with an undoubted, “yes.”

A week and a half after the courthouse wedding with you in a white dress you had stored in your closet for years but never really found the occasion to wear it at, and with him in his best white button up that he probably only wore once, you two swore your love before a judge. Chase and Mal were the only witnesses, Chase because he’d throw a fit if he wasn’t invited, and he’s an important person in Robert’s life and yours. Malevola because she was the first to answer your very hasty text that said, ‘courthouse at 3pm, wear something nice.’ She did wear something nice, but she thought you were suing someone and that you chose her as your lawyer, she had a briefcase and everything.

The others came in late, and you two were already sealing the deal with a kiss. It wasn’t a grand wedding with thousands of flowers, or a buffet provided by a catering company. But it was magnificent, it was a proof of your love, it’s something you and Robert could call yours. Instead of hundred dollar bouquets and a wedding that would cost an arm and a leg, you two signed the papers in front of the people you care about and right after had a reception at a nearby burger place before coming home with Robert as he carried you inside bridal style like in the movies. The pictures from the whole event turned out nice and Robert is still in the process of placing each picture inside a photo album to surprise you with once he finishes it.

“Robertson?” His thoughts are popped by an intern with a clipboard in hand as she peeks over the doorway, looking anxious and fidgety.

“Yeah?” You and Robert simultaneously turn at the same time.

Robert is elated, like drifting on a cloud as a lopsided smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Chortling, you pat Sonar on his arm before sidling next to your husband. A title you’re happy and proud to call him as. “Which Robertson? Mister or missus?” Grasping Robert’s arm, you hug him, cheek pressed against his bicep as you grin at the intern before staring at Robert with that same soft smile you only show him.

“Either way it sounds like you two are in trouble.” Sonar teases behind you, plopping himself on your chair and eating the rest of the fries.

“No trouble at all.” She answers with a wobbly smile.

“You’re from HR right?” You ask kindly, trying to ease the poor intern.

“Yea–yes, they asked me to fetch you to sign some papers?”

The conversation goes in the back of Robert’s mind as he gazes at you through his fogged up mind that’s filled with you— your scent, your voice, and how your hands grip sweetly at his arm whilst the ring around your finger twinkles under the light. He really wants to come home with you, and it’s only one pm.

“Robbie?” Looking up at him, you tug at his hand gently, bringing him out of his stupor. “You okay, baby?”

“Y–yeah,” clearing his throat, Robert lets you lead him outside. “Wait, where are we going?”

Giggling, you intertwine your fingers with his as you follow the intern. “You weren’t paying attention, hm?” Brow raised, you nudge him teasingly. “HR said we need to sign some papers since we got married and that I need to sign something too because I legally changed my name.”

“You changed your name?” It seems that he’s still in the haze of the honeymoon you two spent two weeks in bed with the shutters closed and the phones turned off.

You squeeze his hand, laughing lightheartedly as the sound bounces off the corridor. “Yeah, my last name.” You stop abruptly, taking him by his arms. “Shit, did the potion wear off.” Feigning a gasp, you cup his face. “Oh no, the real Robert is waking up from my love potion.”

Robert chuckles, a grin spreading on his handsome face as he holds onto your hands that’s cradling his cheeks. “I don’t think I ever needed it, sweetheart.”

“Fuck yeah, my plan worked.” You answer with a grin, saying it softly as you lean up for a kiss right in the middle of the hallway.

“Oh, I’m a willing participant, Mrs. Robertson.” Uttering above your lips, you two hear a nervous cough from across the other side of the hallway as the intern stands there idly.

“Sorry.” Wincing, a tad embarrassed, you pull away and tug Robert away. “Please don’t tell your bosses about that.”

“I’ve seen worse HR violations in this place.” She mutters under her breath, opening the doors for you and Robert.

—

“So, where’s the wife?” Flambae asks above the clicking glasses and ear drum bursting singing from the karaoke.

“Headache.” Robert hides his giddiness behind the rim of his glass filled with Amber liquid.

Wife, he’ll never get tired of that.

“You’re already giving her a headache after just a month of marriage?” Invisigal adds, snorting over her beer. “I call dibs on her after the divorce.”

“There will be no divorce.” Robert’s brows furrow, shaking his head as he frowns. Just the thought of it squeezes at his heart.

“You know what they say, Robert,” Chase slurs, drink sloshing in his wobbly grip. “Happy wife, happy life. Marriage is easyyy.”

“How would you know?” Mal scoffs, taking a bite of her slider. “You’ve never been married.”

“Who said I was never married?” Chase narrows his reddened eyes at her, whilst the whole table silences from shock. “What? Surprised that someone actually managed to tie me down? It was a night out in Vegas back in—”

“Hello, room for one more?” You appear from behind Chase, materializing in front of Robert as colour suddenly appears to be brighter in his vision.

“Hey, Mrs. Robertson!” The whole table greets you, raising their glasses at you as you smile.

“Thought you couldn’t make it.” Robert’s smile is brighter than the stage lights as his hand extends for you to take. His eyes never leave your own, watching you go around the corner of the table over to him with that same sweetened smile.

“I toughed it up, I couldn’t miss this.”

“Alright, since you’re late,” Sonar raises his empty beer mug at you. “you’re buying the next round, Mrs. Robertson!”

Sighing, you shake your head with a subtle smile. “You guys look like you’ve had enough though.”

There’s a chorus of, “Nos” and shaking of heads. But Robert's attention is only on you as the yellow light of the bar shines just behind your head, blanketing you in a halo of light whilst you smile and banter with the Z-team.

—

“I never thought Chase could out drink me.” You groan, plopping onto the sofa with half lidded eyes and smelling like a bar. “That old man.” Muttering, you lift up your arms for Robert as he stands beside the sofa. “C’mere, Robbie, hug the alcohol out of me.”

“That’s not how it works, honey.” Nose scrunching, he chuckles, picking up your foot and taking off your heels for you gently.

You watch his hands, every movement of his lean and nimble fingers sends you in a tizzy. “Y’know I’m not too drunk.” You insinuate with a wiggle of your brows.

“You went into a stranger’s car when you thought it was mine. The other car was an entirely different make and color.” He replies with his eyes full of endearment, while he takes off the other heel, as gentle as the last one. “And you kissed Beef, you left kiss marks all over his fur.”

Sure enough, Beef walks in, smiling and wiggling his tail happily at you whilst his fur is covered in numerous kiss marks.

“Yeah, but I always do that. He said that he loves us so much and that we should stay home forever with him.” Pouting, your legs wrap around Robert’s waist, hooking around and pulling him in with the heels of your feet until he’s properly standing in between your legs that he has to put his arms on the side of your head so as to not fall atop you. He’s so warm, and he smells like your coconut shampoo as his russet hair dangles above you. “Baby, my baby boy, you need a haircut.” Fingers raking through his tresses, you utter your words in a sing-song tune whilst gazing at him lovingly.

“You gonna cut it for me?” You could see your tipsy self in his eyes that softens for you.

“Unless you want to be bald.” You poke his cheek, earning a gruff scoff from him. “I don’t think you’ll ever forgive me for that because you don’t have the head shape for it.”

“You never know, I could rock it.”

“Yeah, but I love your hair far too much. Where would I hold onto if I shave it all off?” Pouting, your warm hands finds his sides, sliding underneath his shirt as you run your palms all over his lean stomach. “Off, please.”

“Would you forgive me if I said no?” Robert tilts his head, pecking your forehead sweetly.

“Oh, you’re a killjoy.” Huffing, you decide to rest your hands on his sides instead, just feeling his warmth through his shirt. “But you've been awfully happy recently. Like…” you try to find your words through the fog of alcohol. “Like really in a good mood. Very very happy.”

“Am I not always in a good mood?”

“Sometimes you sulk. I’ve seen you wallow at your desk.” You squeeze his sides lovingly. “Now that I think about it, that’s what caught my eye.”

“I charmed you with my sulking, hm?” Humming, Robert perches between your legs, knees digging into the plush seat, resting there when the small of his back started to ache.

“Yeah,” you giggle, chasing his lips as he teases by leaning away from you, earning a deep pout from you. “C’mon, just a kiss, Robbie.”

“You wanna know why I’m in a good mood?” His head tilts, eyes gazing at your lips briefly before flicking to your eyes again.

“Yeah, because whatever it is I want to recreate it so you’re always all smiley and happy. I love it when you smile, Robert. You’ve got a pretty smile.”

“There’s one thing you can do to make me smile more.”

“Tell me.” You tug him by his belt loop, until he’s sitting on your lap, legs spread on your sides as he cups the back of your head, gazing into your eyes. “I’ll do anything for you.”

“You can always marry me again.”

The widest grin spreads across your face. “Done.”

Robert feels his heart skip a beat at your immediate response. His knuckles drags slowly over your cheek, gentle and loving as he hears you hum in content, feeling the rumble in your chest. “You’re the reason why, y’know? Why I’m in a good mood.”

“I figured.” You feel him shift his weight, and you already know what he’s planning before he does it. You don’t stop him though.

“I’ve never…really thought I’d love someone as much as you,” Robert says wholeheartedly, confessing, showing you his heart that beats for you. “more so get married.”

“On a whim, might I add.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, my name suits you well.” Robert makes his move, one second he’s in your lap, the next he has your back on the couch cushions as you look up at him whilst he looms over you with a lopsided smile. “There, better.”

“Much better. And good, because I’m never changing it. It’s mine now. I’m Mrs. Robertson forever and ever!” Your nose nudges at his temple as you feel him smile above your clavicle. Your fingers rake through his hair, while you’re both utterly blissed out.

“I don’t want you to give it back anyway.” Pecking your jaw, he rests his head right there over your heart, inhaling you in and letting your warmth ebb through him. “Just waking up right next to you every morning makes me happy, sweetheart, you don’t really need to do much.”

“But I’ll keep doing stuff that makes you happy though. Forever and ever and ever.” Giggling, giddy from the sweet moment, your legs wrap around his hips, locking him in place. Robert doesn’t seem to want to get out of it anytime soon. “I love you, Mr. Robertson.”

“And I love you too, Mrs. Robertson.”

A small vibration interrupts you as soon as you have finished scanning the content pages and settled on the chapter to read first, Dick’s name flashing in a text message.

Want to come to the park with us? Weather’s nice. Jason, Steph, Barb and Wally are coming.

Nothing sounds better right about now, but the guilt of pushing your work aside again would eat you alive. Dejectedly, you settle on a “Can’t, at the library :(“ and dive back into your book. The writing is better in this one, so you actually work through the chapter at a decent pace. The sounds of the library fade, replaced by the soft, low music your headphones emit, sealing the small bubble you sink into.

-

Jason’s frown is immediate when he reaches the park and fails to spot you amongst the others, the second cup of coffee he brought proving obsolete in your evident absence. He doesn’t even sit down, standing behind Dick while Wally shields his eyes from the sun to properly see him. “Why do you look more grumpy than usual?” “Where is she?” Delighting in the petulant tone in his younger brother’s voice, Dick can’t help but snort at the nigh pout on his face. “She cancelled. Something about library and studying.”

“She’s working on her paper,” Barbara explains, but Jason barely hears the end of her sentence, already turned around on his heals and walking away from the group.

–

The sight of a coffee cup being placed in your peripheral vision makes you look up finally. The faint twinge in your neck from being hunched over is evidence of how long you spent reading and making notes. When you meet Jason’s eyes, you take your earphones out. “What are you doing here?” He snorts at that and pulls out an empty chair to face you before sitting down. “What? No hello? How are you? Thank you for the coffee?” You have the decency to give him a sheepish smile while reaching for the cup.

 “Thank you. But I thought you were at the park with the others?” The shrug you receive is non-committal; meant to soften the significance of his choices and deter from any deeper meaning one could read into them. “I just got bored.” Lie. “I wouldn’t survive that without you anyways, not Dickhead and Wally at the same time.” Less of a lie.

He places a water bottle and an ibuprofen on the table next, and this time you are sure your eyes reflect your gratitude. “You’re my hero.” He grins with a wink and opens the bottle for you while you unpack the pill, swallowing it down with a few sips of water. “And now? You want to suffer here with me?” He takes out a book and holds it in the air for a moment for you to see. “Keeping you company.”

Though, arguably, Jason barely registers the words he was reading, using his angle as an excuse to subtly watch you work. Every detail, every new facial expression, ingrains itself in his mind. The way you frown when you are concentrating on something, or how you chew your lip when trying to figure out how to phrase a sentence. It is oddly endearing to catalogue these things, you the object of his very own secret studies. He’s almost caught when your eyes suddenly lift to him, just so able to look back at his book. You haven’t noticed, carrying on like nothing was amiss.

“Dinner when I’m done? I’m craving summer rolls from that place downtown.” He nods without missing a beat. “Anything you want.” With a smile, your gaze returns to your books, and his stays on you.

––––

Level 2: Teamwork

Dick plops down next to you with a groan, hand on his stomach and head tipped back in bliss after the dinner Alfred prepared. It’s a rare afternoon with everybody in the manor; Bruce having convinced each of his sons to come. You were there because you’re friends with most of the others… and maybe Jason refused to come until your name was mentioned. When Dick slides sideways to lean most of his weight against you, you playfully shove at him but ultimately settle down and succumb to your fate of being used as a human sized pillow.

Everybody gathers on the remaining couches, Bruce in his armchair, Tim on the floor, Damian at the far corner of one couch so to not seem like he enjoys spending time with his family for once. It’s a curious sight every time you witness this mismatched family and how they care for one another more than they like to show outwardly.

When Jason’s joins as well, having helped Alfred with the dishes, you pat the spot next to you and he readily settles there, thigh brushing yours.

“How about a game?” Steph suggests after her five-minute food coma. Dick perks up. “Monopoly?”

“I refuse to play Monopoly with you anymore,” Tim grumbles half-heartedly. You remember the last time. Dick’s a cheat, and he Monopoly Incident last year still haunts you. He makes a scandalized sound, hand on his chest. “Not my fault you landed on my hotel.” “You stole money from the bank,” Tim looks about ready to lunge at his older brother. “Did not.” “Did too.” “Did not.”

“We could play Uno,” you interrupt their spat, earning a few grateful glances.

Soon everyone is gathered around the coffee table. It’s a brutal game, you don’t remember a deck consisting of so many Draw 4s. Steph and Damian were arguing about rules, Dick was slipping cards up his sleeve when he thought nobody was watching, even Bruce cheated and somehow always had a card to avoid having to draw. In the middle of the game, you tap Jason’s leg so he can discreetly look at your cards beneath the table. When he frowns at the sight, two of your remaining three cards Draw 4s, you subtly take one of his number cards to switch out for one of them, a scheme taking its course. If Dick – who just proudly yelled “Uno!” to Jason’s other side – can play dirty, so can you.

Jason seems to read your mind; you can see the faintest upwards pull of his lips even if the others don’t. Maybe because you keep looking at– you shake out of your thought when it’s your turn, placing down your Draw 4 and then watch Jason do the same, Dick’s face falling. Everybody breaks out in laughter, glad to see Dick lose for once.

What neither you nor Jason sees is Bruce watching you with a soft smile behind his cards. He saw the whole exchange of cards, but he also saw your lingering look and the way Jason gravitates towards you. Even now he was leaning into your space, the gap between him and Dick much larger than the one between the two of you.

He’s just glad to see Jason finally find happiness in life.

––––

Level 3: Ease

The gala was loud, pompous, and obnoxious. At least those are the words you’d use if posed with the prompt “describe Bruce Wayne’s soirées in three words.” The only upside seems to be the excuse to dress up nicely, and the fact that no matter how miserable you were, you can name four individuals that are even worse off than you.

Dick was able to mask his gloominess rather well with a charming smile and a few well-placed words in a conversation. Bruce’s golden child does not need much sweet talking to woo his opposite. It helps that he has years of experience on the others in these matters. Tim was less successful but played the part of the future Wayne Enterprises CEO by taking to important business partners and sticking by Bruce’s side. Damian you spot next, he seems as brooding as ever but you suppose the years of being trained by the league in plenty of matters included decorum at events like these. He elegantly avoided speaking to too many people by finding excuses to walk towards somebody new, only to turn halfway through the crowd when he’s out of sight.

Jason has resigned himself to a corner, an untouched glass of champagne in hand, and a frown on his face that steers off anybody even remotely interested in talking to Bruce’s lost and them resurfaced second son. But when has that frown ever stopped you from approaching? With parts of your dress in hand so you walk faster, your heels clack against the polished marble while you snake around the people separating you from the sombre figure by the fountain.

“Dance with me?” You hold out a hand when you stand before him, glossed lips pulling in a bright smile. Everything in you seemed to ease in you now, coiled muscles relaxing while your anxiety ebbs in his presence.

Jason raises a sceptic brow, eyeing your hand. “I don’t dance.” “Please.” It’s more a whine than a plea. Nevertheless, it works. The victorious grin on your face when his hand takes yours and you lead him to the dance floor has his signature glare replace the frown. You laugh and let him pull you into position. When the song changes, you move, almost immediately stepping on his toes. “I should have mentioned I don’t know how to dance.”

“I know you don’t,” he adjusts you without much fuss, but by the third time he takes your waist and lifts you just enough to place your feet onto his. It might seem goofy to the people around you but that doesn’t matter right now. The faces fade and it’s just you and him dancing. Well, him dancing and you following along.

The trance you find yourself in — neither of you talking but the eye contact disgustingly intense as Dick will recount later — ceases when the song stops and Bruce is called to make a speech. Your face heats up and you step back again with a small smile, turning to the front to listen and entirely missing the way Jason’s eyes linger on you with a fondness in them either of you only read about in those classics you read.

––––

Level 4: Deep Deep Denial

Barbara’s laughter echoes through your apartment on a rare day you two get to spend alone together. The wine glasses have been filled for the third time already, and a mindless reality dating show has been your source of entertainment for the evening.

“I mean— what does she see in him?” You huff. “That guy is all fake tan, muscles that scream I avoid food to look shredded, and his brain lack basic levels of intelligence.” Barbara snorts, “and yet he’s the best catch there. A tragedy for modern dating.”

The episode comes to an end when Barbara turns toward you and pauses before the next starts automatically. “Which one of them would you be most willing to date?” “I’d rather cut off my own leg,” you take another sip from your glass. “But if I’d have to choose… Thomas seems alright. At least he has actual hobbies that exceed going to the gym.” Her approving hum and the sense of ease you feel are cut short by her next question.

“What is your ideal type then? I mean, I’ve seen the people you dated, and they never follow a certain pattern…” You shrug, “I guess it varies. I don’t have a dream person.” “Everybody has the ideal version of a person they’d date.” You shake your head in amusement. “Not me.” The deflection does not seem to satisfy the red head and she pouts dramatically. “Try.”

“Fine,” you relent and set down your glass. “I suppose… I mean if it’s a man I’d like him to be taller than me, dark hair preferably. The eye color isn’t important as long as they’re kind. I don’t like overly muscly, but I like strong, you know? Something about knowing he can lift me up easily but would also eat two pizzas in one sitting with me just hits the spot. I also can’t anymore with dim men. Just have an interest, read books, have a niche thing or whatever. Just be— “

“Jason?” That makes you pause. “What?” “You’re describing Jason.” “No, I’m not.”

The look she gives you makes every argument you have die in your throat. Yes, you are utterly head over heels for your best friend. At least that he was that is something you can admit. But admitting to your feelings out loud would make them real. Now, they were simple fantasies, a small crush that will disintegrate sooner or later, not love. Love would feel different, surely. Is it not to be exciting and full of butterflies. What you feel beside Jason is neither. It’s warm, comfortable, safe. But surely that’s because you see him every day and he’s kept you safe on more accounts than one.

“Hello?” Barbara asks a little louder, eyes crinkled with quiet laughter. “Are you daydreaming about your knight in leather armour with a red helmet?” “Shut up.” You hide your bashfulness in your glass, hoping the wine serves a distraction from the wordless admission to your feelings. A futile thing to try with a trained detective. “I knew it.”

“Even so,” you grumble and start the next episode. “It’s a one-sided crush, no need to dwell on it.”

“If you truly think that crush is one sided, then you are blinder than I thought you are, babes,” Barbara mumbles into her glass, too low for you to hear over the intro.

––––

Level 5: Acceptance

It’s a rare occurrence for you to be woken up in the middle of the night, but the window sliding open and a loud thud is enough to make you sit up in shock and clutch the nearest thing you have as a weapon. Arguably, there is better things to defend yourself with than a half empty bottle of water, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

The weapon reassumes its position on your bedside table when you recognize the figure slumped against your wall. His name is barely a breath that leaves your lips, almost inaudible over the rustle of the sheets when you scramble up. A second body threatens to crumble to the floor when the stubborn fabric tangles with your legs, but you catch yourself. “Are you okay? What happened? Why are you here?” Hands hover around him, unsure where to settle. The grin on his face filters through the mechanic rasp of the voice modulator. “Nice to see you too. I need your medical skills.” His breath was ragged and he peels back his jacket to reveal blood seeping through his armour, staining the black at his side an even deeper black. “’S not too bad,” your worried contemplation must have been written on your face in that moment, Jason quick to placate. “Just a stitch or two, bullet’s out.”

These situations were never easy to you. You’re not even remotely trained in these things. Your sewing skills were mediocre in the first place, but suturing? His stubbornness to insist you patch him up was a thorn in your side. “Alfred truly proves better at these than I do, Jason.” No answer is expected, the argument recurring and always shot down with a simple “I don’t care.”

“My non-existent medical skills will not always suffice,” you grumble but retrieve the medical kit you keep for him regardless. The injury is not too deep, and you work in silence. It’s almost mechanical by now. Stop the bleeding, clean, stitch up, clean again, bandage. The same procedure each time. 

The next time you look up, convincing yourself it’s to check on him, his helmet is gone and your eyes are met with tired blues. You quickly look down again. Fuck. “Don’t stare at me.” with the last stitch done, you clean the blood off and bandage the wound.

“Can’t help it.” If you were to describe the cadence of the words, you could not. It’s as if your mind draws a blank, blacks out, erases the details of the situation so it stays as fleeting as it feels in that moment. When you look up, his eyes are fixed on your lips and your heart speeds up impossibly further. Can this induce a heart attack? Is this why you feel so hot all of a sudden?

Deeply buried in panicked thoughts, neither of you registers the gravitational pull that forces you to lean closer. Maybe it’s your sleep-addled brain or his exhaustion, but in the moment neither of you truly cares for the reason. You feel his breath fan across your lips, the very tip of his nose brushing yours. Just a millimetre closer and your fates would be sealed. You would both give in to the feelings you’d long accepted in yourselves but denied in the other. The crackle of his helmet makes you flinch back, the moment gone as quickly as it arrived with Roy’s voice cutting through the silence. “Red? You okay?”

“Yeah.” If Roy heard the small crack in the word, he doesn’t comment on it (yet). “I’ll meet you in a bit.”

Jason is gone a few minutes later and you’re back in bed with your pillow pressed against your face. So much for sleeping eight hours.

––––

Stage 1: Surrender

Jason has been avoiding you for the past three days and you’re beginning to get fed up. With anybody else, you’d give them their space, maybe send them a text that invites them for a talk and asks if everything is okay. But this was so unlike Jason that your insecurity morphs into anger. To have the audacity to spend most days with you, eating your food, sleeping on your couch, and getting patched ip by you, just to ghost you now? Yeah, no way.

After Tim confirmed for you that Jason was at home, you march over to his apartment building, used your spare key to get inside and then for dramatic effect, knock on his door loudly until he opens. Before he has enough time to compose himself and potentially close the door again, you push inside and start to go off.

“I don’t know who you think you are Jason Peter Todd, but I want you to know that you messed with the wrong person. Who the fuck thinks it’s okay to just drop off the face of the earth like that. Leaving me on read? You have a death wish. I have to answer your texts in five minutes, or you break down doors, and now you think I don’t get to hold you to the same standards?”

Jason was just staring at you during your rant, admiring your hair, your nose, the way your eyebrows scrunch together when you get angry. He so rarely gets to see you angry, he wants to savor every moment of this. Only when you step closer does he realize it’s his turn to speak now.

“I’m sorry.” “Sorry doesn’t cut it anymore, I want reasons.” With your hands on your hips, you stare up at him expectantly. Did he turn the heater on? He’s sweating. His breathing is faster, in tandem with his pulse. You make him nervous. You *fluster* him. He’s screwed.

“I can’t tell you.” That earns him a scoff. “Please, what possibly could it he that you can’t tell me? You told me about the time you landed in a trash container after jumping off a roof and showed me the surveillance footage, but this you can’t tell me?”

“Yep,” he nods, trying his very best to seem nonchalant.

“Jason,” you warn him and then it’s two minutes of simply staring at one another. It feels like an eternity. An era. An epoch.

“I can’t tell you,” he breathes again. It’s not for a lack of trying. His brain simply refuses to put the adequate words together in a way that could make sense to you. “Jason, I’m not leaving before I don’t know what I’ve done. If I can fix this, just tell me how.”

“You haven’t done anything.” Your anger simmers into frustration, it’s like talking to a wall. You hate secrecy like this. Usually, what people declare none of your business is something you do not pry about. They have a right to their privacy. But if it directly involves you and affects your friendship, then you see yourself having the right to know what happened.

You are about to say something else when all your senses are enveloped by Jason. You smell his bodywash, feel his warmth, and taste the mint toothpaste you steal whenever you sleep over. It takes a moment for your brain to catch up with the situation and realizes that Jason Todd is kissing you. As soon as it registers, however, your hands are in his hair, and you eagerly return the kiss.

It’s messy at first, charged with months of pining and impulse control shattering above your heads. Then it softens a little, just slightly, so you can catch your breath.

“I crave you,” Jason whispers against your lips, and you swallow his words, breath hitching. This was more than an admittance of love, this was two souls reaching out to one another, desperate to intertwine and merge. To bind their fates together.

This was Jason’s way of saying he loves you, of confessing to need you, to be dependent on your stability, your presence.

Once you pull back, you seize the moment to simply look at him. His pupils were dilated and his cheeks flushed. He looked younger than he already was, and you can’t help but utter the words he’d longed to hear since he met you.

“I love you.”

The warm glow of bathroom light practically swarms towards his model-esque, greek-god-sculpted, sun-kissed body and face. Your god of a husband, who looks like he's just stepped out of Lloyd's Mamma Mia or a Hugo Boss men's cologne commercial hovers, by the sink in a loose white button up, tending to the hems at his wrists and the buttons on his blouse.

“It’s Jason,” you say, holding out his phone, smiling and peering into the ensuite. 

He halts buttoning, leaving part of his chest exposed in an easy loose V at the open collar, tanned chest catching the light.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Dick says softly, eyes tracking the screen on your hands as he takes the phone from you and answers it.

"Yeah,” he addresses jason casually skipping the niceties. 

“Sure thing, I’ll be there…

Meanwhile, you attempt to multitask. One hand, braced on the ensuite door frame to steady yourself, as you resume fighting your ankle strap. Your (literal) achilles heel every date night. You bring your knee up, try to reach at your ankles but struggle the one-hand manoeuvre with this ribbon-thin, flimsy buckle. You shift, try leaning your back against the bathroom's door frame... nope, your shoulder against the door frame? your try lifting your knee higher, but your mini black dress hikes up, pulling tight and you swear you hear fabric groan. You stop immediately because ripping this dress would make you put the devil in devil wears prada. Then consider shuffling back to the bed… Mmm, no. Bending down maybe?—

As you start to lower down, Dick’s hand meets your shoulder halting you. Your eyes flick up and you see Dick suddenly next to you, one hand steadying you for a brief second as he gently waves off your commotions. He mouths an I’ve got it, already tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder.

And he lowers himself to one knee before you.

“Bruce doesn’t need to—” he continues into the call, the cell clipped between his cheek and right shoulder. His face practically plush against your bare leg, breath faint and warm against your shin as he talks.

“Uh huh, yeah… an hour early, I got it. You’re one to talk since you’re always the late one, Jay,” he says playfully taunting at Jason through the line all the while focused on your strap.

Your hand grips the door frame, while the other holds onto his shoulder for balance (yes, the shoulder of the Greek God knelt before you) and between the wooden frame and Dick's deltoids, the doorframe never stood a chance.

His fingers caresses your ankle and he slots the teeny, tiny, metallic piece through the strap holes. And trust your husband to know exactly which hole! The strap of the velvet heel remains snug enough to support your ankle but not choke off your entire leg’s circulation.

For a man with big fingers and a thread-thin strap in said fingers, he's good with those hands. Probably, too good you think. Your probably jealous you think.

And when the pad of his finger touches the inside of your ankle and the cool metal of his gold wedding ring also slightly brushes your skin, all the nerves in your leg light on fire. You realise then as you tighten your grip on the doorframe that even 10 years of marriage couldn't diffuse the effect he had on you.

As Dick finishes, he doesn’t rise. With a knuckle to the tiled floor and still on one knee, he remains half-immersed in whatever Jason is saying when his attention shifts.

Up.

To you.

From where he’s kneeling, his gaze finds you as if he’s only just seeing you for the first time. You mouth a quiet thank you, and he only watches your lips with such focus like he's counting the syllables of your gratitude.

Looks like you held your charm for 10 pretty well too.

“Mhm…” he breathes into the phone. 

“Look, I’ll meet you by the manor and we can sort this out later. I gotta go.”

He ends the call before the last vowel leaves his lips. 

“Hi,” you say.

“Why, hi there,” he teases, looking up at you with literally shards of glitter in his cobalt eyes. “Who’s this beauty sneaking into my shower?”

“Please,” you giggle.

“Who’s the Greek statue in Tom Ford on my tiles?”

Dick beams and his dimples appear beneath the warm overhead light.

His hand trails over your calf as he looks up at you. Slowly, he lifts the leg he’d just finished tending to, resting your foot and heel gently against his raised knee. Yeah, disregard the heel from puncturing the Wayne-tailored trousers.

His softness makes you chuckle, until his head dips and presses a gentle kiss to your calf.

And for a second, or minute, you forget why you even have lungs.

The sight of him on one knee, with the warmth of his lips against your skin, nearly makes your knees give out.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, looking up at you again, chin resting on your bent knee.

“Oh, get up here,” you murmur, reaching for the undone tie hanging loosely over his chest.

He rises slowly, letting you pull him closer by the tie until he’s right in front of you.

And then you remember how to breathe when you kiss him.

His lips meet yours, pressing softly against your Charlotte Tilbury pillow talk–coated lips. He guides you back slowly until your spine connects with the edge of the doorframe, his arm braced against the wall beside you. You hold onto him, breathing in the familiar scent of mint from his shampoo mixed with the pang of wood and fresh, airy trace of his cologne, but pull back in case he missed it the first time.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips.

“For?” he says airily.

“The past 10 years?" you smile, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

"Oh, and the strap.”

He flashes that gorgeous smile. The thing about you is you never take anything for granted when it comes to Dick Grayson. And maybe that's the 10 year secret.

And the thing about him? Is he'll do anything for you, even if it means being on his knees 'bout it.

“Anytime, sweetheart," he says kissing the side of your temple.

"If you want, I’ll undo it too. You know..." he bites at your earlobe

"The 10 year anniversary special way.”

You laugh, leaning your head back on the frame, a fleeting memory of your wedding night garter washing over you. You kiss him just as deep as you did right after that I do. Then another feather-light peck stamping his jaw.

“Later.”

@ karaaeps

slice-of-life, plotless cutesy shit from my drafts!!!!!! lowkey scrap description practice i did on the train but i pinky promise there's so much more stories with plot and substance to come from me!

my darlings, i haven't been writing too much lately because yes, the university and work baggage is overflowing (get me outta here, bruce, i beg ✈️)

but! oo big but! i do have a series brewing...

so until i get a moment to polish those, you can get my unedited scraps as proof of my living breathing happy (but busy) body. and maybe, some sneaks soon ;)

soon soon so soon.

"you literally answered me."

"didn't."

you laughed quietly.

"i need to get up."

"no, you don't."

"i do."

"you've got nowhere to be."

"i have to use the bathroom."

"…"

his grip tightened just a little.

"jason."

"five more minutes."

"you said that twenty minutes ago."

"i don't remember saying that."

"you were awake?"

"no."

you couldn't help laughing again.

"you are impossible."

"so i've been told."

finally, he cracked one eye open, meeting your amused expression.

his lips twitched. "there she is."

"good morning."

"mornin'."

his voice was rough from sleep, making it sound even deeper than usual.

he studied your face for a second before reaching up and brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"what?"

"nothin'."

"you've been staring."

"i know."

"…why?"

"'cause you're pretty."

the words came so casually that your brain stopped working for a moment.

"…you can't just say things like that before coffee."

jason smirked.

"sure i can."

"you fight crime."

"i multitask."

you nudged him lightly with your shoulder.

"you are ridiculous."

"so are you."

you tried sitting up again.

his arms immediately pulled you back against him.

"…seriously?"

"i'm comfortable."

"i'm trapped."

"exactly."

"you've become a human weighted blanket."

"i'm hearing zero complaints."

"there are several complaints."

"liar."

you sighed dramatically, though the smile on your face betrayed you.

"…fine."

jason buried his face into your shoulder again with a satisfied hum.

"there it is."

"what?"

"acceptance."

"i accepted my fate."

"same thing."

silence settled over the room again.

it wasn't awkward.

just… peaceful.

outside, rain tapped gently against the apartment windows.

jason lazily traced circles against your side through one of his oversized hoodies you'd stolen weeks ago.

"you know," he muttered, "i was looking for this hoodie."

"no, you weren't."

"i absolutely was."

"you watched me steal it."

"i thought you'd give it back."

you looked over your shoulder.

"you've known me for how long?"

"…fair."

"i've claimed it."

"my hoodie."

"our hoodie."

he groaned dramatically.

"you've become a wayne."

"i'll start calling it 'our emotional support hoodie.'"

"i regret teaching you sarcasm."

"you practically invented it."

he laughed quietly, that alone made your heart melt. after another comfortable minute, he spoke again.

"…thanks."

you frowned.

"for what?"

"for staying."

the joking tone had disappeared.

his gaze was fixed somewhere on the blankets instead.

"you know… most mornings after patrol, i wake up expecting the apartment to be empty."

you turned around carefully until you were facing him.

his expression was softer than usual.

guarded, but honest.

you reached up and rested your hand against his cheek.

"i'm not going anywhere."

his eyes searched yours for a long moment.

"…promise?"

"i promise."

something in his shoulders finally relaxed.

he leaned into your touch almost instinctively.

then, with a tiny, almost embarrassed smile, he rested his forehead against yours.

"…good."

"you worry too much."

"i know."

"you know i like waking up with you..."

"i was hoping."

"i'm telling you."

another small smile.

"the apartment's a lot quieter when you're not here."

"so i'm loud?"

"you sing while making pancakes."

"i hum."

"you perform concerts."

"they're private concerts."

"they're not private if i can hear them from the bedroom."

you gasped dramatically.

"i've been exposed."

jason chuckled.

"i kinda like it."

"you do?"

"mhm."

"you'll never admit that in front of the others."

"absolutely not."

"good."

"dick would never let me live it down."

you both laughed.

the room felt warmer somehow.

jason reached over and pulled the blanket higher around both of you.

"one more minute?" he asked quietly.

you smiled.

"one more minute."

he nodded once, satisfied.

"…then coffee."

"and breakfast."

for just a little while longer, neither of you moved. the rain continued to patter softly against the windows, and wrapped up in blankets and each other, the rest of the world could wait.

you guys should totally give me more sfw ideas for this series 👀

also i js started posting on this acc too @cityafterdark so go check that out!!

©luvlypresley2026 - do not translate or copy in any way. ˗ˏˋ ✉ - @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger, @malewifefckr, @batmilani, @justanormalpersin, @batslilwhore, @j-blackout8, @foivetimesacharm, @vanillakirstein, @ablondehoe, @soggywhore, @maxcalore3, @lillie1320, @thecomethearted, @fireriyu

If there was one thing that she hated—it was being woken up. Or maybe it was the ways that she was woken up, like today: Roy’s cold hands finding their way up her shirt, the soft trail of goosebumps that they left as they make their path along her torso. She whined, not fully awake but not able to fall back asleep. 

“Good morning,” He murmured, warm breath contrasting with the cold of his hands, his forearms “I’m home.” He was pressing himself closer to her, burrowing his face into her neck, inhaling the smell of her caramel scented lotion. 

“You don’t live here.” There was no fight in her voice,  it was soft with sleep and her argument had no force behind it. Roy pressed a soft kiss to her jaw, before holding his face to her own—it was freezing and she shivered from the contact. “You’re still mad?” He situated his large hands across her chest, lacing together and forcing her closer until she was covered by him, enveloped into his cold. His breaths came were heavy, just slightly as if he had been working out prior to breaking into her home to harass her. 

“You’re freezing cold.”

“Warm me up, baby.” 

She was floating between sleep, wanting to untangle herself from him but unable to—that was why he was here, counting on her being too sleepy to push him off, relying on that liminal space between sleep where she wasn’t still mad at him, where she was vulnerable with him like she could never be when he was awake.

This was the side of her she hated—the version of her that held onto her anger. Roy understood that part of her, so innately that no matter how angry she had been prior, she would always wake up to him. Roy Harper always found his way back to her. “It’s just one little dog.” Roy’s low voice rumbled against her neck. 

“You know I’m scared of dogs.” Her anger was dissipating already, she struggled to stay mad at him. Roy was too earnest. “It hates me already.” 

“You scared her.” 

“It scared me!” She countered, knowing she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep after this, solidified in her assumption when Roy laughed “you’re scared of each other.” 

“That dog better not be in my living room.” 

Roy didn’t reply, which was her second red flag. The third was the way that Roy’s intertwined fingers tightened over her chest and he used that leverage to flip her over, ignoring her vague protestations as he did. Roy’s eyes had a mischievous glint, all too familiar confidence that he was doing something that she didn’t like, but wouldn’t get mad too mad at him for, pushing the limits. 

His hands pulled apart, slow and gradual slide down her torso and almost out from under her shirt, stopping just at her hipbones. She was glaring at him, his grin was wide, boyish and unbearably charming. She was daring him to try it.

Roy knew her too well, knew that she was all bluffing and bravado and pulled her onto his bare chest, slightly wet from sweat, she was glaring down at him and noticed how some his hair stuck to his forehead, smeared across, unruly, stuck to his neck, fanning across the pillow—everywhere.  “You ought to shower after working out.” How her own hair had been swept up with him.

“I know you love it, let me just—” His large hand cupped the back of her head, pushing her head towards his armpit and she shrieked, “no, no, no!” if he had wanted to, he would’ve, but he allowed for her to roll out off him and caught her when she almost rolled off the bed, not having realized how close Roy had been to the edge until there was nothing under her.

Roy pulled her right back, laughing as he did so and she was right back where she started, laying on his chest, frowning down at him. Then, with barely any time to orientate herself he had her flipped over and had positioned himself on top of her “Oof!” collapsing onto her chest, wrapping his arms around her torso and burying his face into the crook of her neck, right above her collarbone.

“You’re so heavy, you oaf!” 

Roy pulled back, touching his nose to hers “Say you’ll give her a try.” 

She sighed, feeling her legs fall asleep under Roy’s weight, knowing she couldn’t go back to sleep after this and desperately needing to shower after Roy had dripped sweat all over her, “And if I don’t end up liking her?” Roy’s eyes were alight with childish delight. He furiously shook his head “I’m not worried.” 

***

She was halfway under her jacked up car when Roy pulled up at the end of her driveway. She didn't need to look to know it was him, she could tell just from the sound of his truck, the purr of his engine that never sounded quite right.

From a distance, he saw the puppy curled up at her feet, looking up curiously at his truck, but not leaving her spot. Roy couldn’t help his grin as he pulled his e-brake up before hoping out of the older truck. 

“How’s that ‘try’ goin’?” Roy called, the puppy recognized him at that point, finally jumping up and running to Roy, jumping at his feet and barking. He knelt down, one hand between her ears and the other keeping him steady and keeping her away from licking his face.

He watched her wrench, catching the bolt in her hand and immediately pulling away as oil began to rapidly pour out. She moved her pan with the flow of the oil, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” the puppy had Roy’s hand in her mouth now, sharp puppy teeth digging in but not drawing blood. “Don’t rile her up!” She called, looking away from the oil just in time to see Roy pull his hand away, the puppy jumping after it. 

The oil began to slow to a dribble and she no longer had to move the pan in tandem with the flow. She watched it slow to almost nothing before placing the bolt back on and tightening, which allowed her to slide out from underneath the car and sitting up to watch Roy and the puppy jumping around.

Her hands were slick with grease, dusty and slightly covered in oil but she would wash them later, maybe after rubbing them allll over Roy when he inevitably said how right he was to bring her the puppy, something she became certain would come soon after watching the pair play together.

She wasn’t entirely sure she believed he had found her, that sensation had always been there--a gnawing, needling in the back of her head but it was growing more insistent.

No one had tried to claim her yet, it had been almost two weeks since Roy had brought her, 12 days since she had seen him last. With just a brief glance, he was unharmed, not limping, or covered in his own blood.

She would look more later, once they went into the garage and she had washed off the accumulated grime from both her irritating spark plugs and oil.

Roy was ignoring her, continuing to rile up the puppy and almost tripping over his feet running from her. “So this is where they get the name, Maligator?” She called, watching as the puppy had managed to bypass Roy’s hand, latching onto the side his sleeveless sweatshirt. 

“I think so!” Roy replied, trying to free his sweatshirt by picking the puppy up and holding her in the air, which just allowed her to better adjust her bite.

She crossed her ankles, whistling and immediately catching the puppy’s attention, who let go of Roy and wiggled out of his grasp, almost falling flat on her face with the speed she leapt away from Roy, who jogged right after the puppy, coming to a stop at her feet; looking too similar to each other. 

Roy dropped to a crouch, hand resting between the puppy’s floppy ears, boyish grin blinding her “She learns quick.” 

“No one has replied to my fliers.” She tried to sound disappointed, Roy leaned closer. Too close, she placed a palm on his forehead to push him backwards. Roy didn’t need to know that the puppy had grown on her, after the second day she had come to the conclusion that Roy had been right; they really had just scared each other. 

Roy had a flare for the dramatics, acting as if her gentle push had been a shove with the way he fell back and onto his ass, gravel digging into his palms.

She was laughing at the dark, slightly smudged print that she had left on his forehead.

“So, what are we naming her?” Roy ran a hand through his hair, pushing the strands back to avoid getting them covered in the grime she had covered his forehead with.

The puppy getting distracted by his dramatics and biting at his pant leg, she raised a brow “I didn’t say I’m keeping her—if no one claims her, then I’ll take her to the pound.” With that, she pushed herself up and tore the box that contained her new oil filter, setting the box to the right of her, where the cap that led to her windshield wiper fluid reservoir was. 

Roy was laughing now, “You’d take this cute little face to the pound?” She didn’t have to look to know that they were back to playing tug-o-war, judging from her playful puppy growls. She felt his hand brush against her calf.

She was twisting her old old filter off, setting it inside the box and dropping down to the new oil jug she had opened earlier, dipping her finger in and dragging it along the interior before wetting the new filter and twisting it back in before opening the cap to her oil reservoir “Don’t spill, don’t spill.” Came Roy’s taunting voice, her eye twitched and she leaned over, grabbing her funnel to pour. 

“I could’ve changed that for you.” The puppy was barking now, the sound of fabric tearing from behind her, “I needed to change my spark plugs, anyway.”

“I could’ve done that too.” Roy huffed and she could picture his childish pout, “What would I do then?” 

“Sit and look pretty, play with the puppy.” 

“Like what you’re doing right now?” She stopped before the jug was empty, pulling the oil stick out and wiping it clean before dipping the stick back in and testing the oil level, the deciding to add a splash more.

She listened to the sound of fabric shifting behind her, felt the heat of Roy’s chest before she felt himself press against her back, hand touching against her stomach , leaning down to whisper “Dibs on fixing your head gaskets when they blow up, again.” She elbowed him in the stomach and felt the rumble of his laugh against her back—completely unbothered by the force she had tried to put into the blow. “Dibs on fixing your third gear slip and—” She elbowed Roy again, setting down her jug of oil to dip out away from Roy. 

“I don’t wanna hear anything from you, Mr. Found On Road Dead.” She hissed, avoiding the puppy that had gone from weaving around Roy’s feet, to hers.

the funny thing about saying something out loud is that it solidifies itself by whoever heard it.

being caught off guard and saying something you’d never really considered before and it takes root in your life as your word is held against you. something about this whole situation reminded you of the fundamentals of primary school and the golden rules you were supposed to follow.

treat others the way you want to be treated.

think before you speak.

something must’ve gotten lost in translation because everything seems to be going to shit.

back inside of the house, jason is nowhere to be found.

you duck into his room, check grayson’s, and then ultimately decide to check back downstairs again. nothing. pulling out your phone to call jason when you run into grayson, walking right into him as you descend down the stairs.

“woah, slow down,” he holds your shoulders straight, “where are we going?”

waving your phone around vaguely, “i was looking for jason but i think he left?”

grayson nods, “yeah. he went on a liquor run with roy and wally.”

“huh,” nodding back, you hum, “liquor run.”

“yeah, it’s a pool party this time so guaranteed need a couple kegs and something strong for shots.” continuing while you walk with him to the now fixed window and shooing away barry and oliver who were standing way too close to comfort. “and whoever did this shit is gonna get their ass beat when i find them.”

“makes sense.” you barely reply, watching as people move around you but not really paying attention.

the last few days have been, eventful to say the least. then hal threw in that curveball that just caused another spiral of what you and jason even were. he apologized, yes, and of course you want jason. you’ll always want jason but you’ve spent so much time now on him, trying to get over him to no avail. weeks of your life distancing yourself only to get pulled back to him again.

saying yes to hal felt like more of an unconscious decision than you actually wanting to date him.

it’s probably mean but he threw you off when he suddenly asked you out and it almost felt like a sign. that you had options and that not being with jason wasn’t the end of the world even if it felt like it. maybe hal could give you some perspective.

it’s not like hal jordan is ugly by any means. you’ve seen him without a shirt and he’s insanely ripped, much like grayson is. he’s pretty too, the kind that would make anyone do a double take.

but in the back of yours mind you still knew.

he’s not jason.

“hey,” grayson suddenly says, “you keep zoning out on me.”

you turn to face him, “yeah, sorry.”

he shakes his head and points a finger at your forehead, “don’t apologize. what’s going on in that head of yours?”

with a heavy sigh and no patience left to lie, “i hooked up with jason again.”

grayson’s eyes widen, “oh, i didn’t need to know that—” he sighs, “uh, isn’t that a good thing?”

you nod slowly, “i think so.”

from behind the two of you, the party began to get bigger. glassing clinking and laughter ringing. roaring music as tim whispered something in connor’s ear and he clicked away on his phone. hal had already joined the crowd with his shirt crooked on his body and a hand clasped around a beer. the front door was opening and closing more than you could count and the bodies stacking inside were more than the previous ones you’d been to probably because it was one of the last one of the school year.

but jason wasn’t back yet.

someone bumps into you from behind and touches your waist to steady you from falling.

“oops sorry. ‘m a clutz.” laughing as she lets go of your side to get a better look at you. “wait, i know you!”

she smiles bright, her hair dark and beautiful. her eyes had the prettiest sparkle to them. you blink at the girl in front of you and exchange a glance with grayson.

“are you in my program?” you ask.

grayson cuts in, “no, this is donna. you met her at the last party.”

you nod slowly as the gears turn you recognize her face from spin the bottle. “oh, hey. sorry.”

“you were dating jason right?” a clear slur in her voice that told you’d she’d been drinking for a while before getting here, “ugh, i was talking to roy and he’s such a dog. both of them are honestly. i just can’t believe jason made that bet about you seriously. all my sisters are uber pissed and swore to keep away for at least another week.”

your stomach drops at her words and the creeping feeling of embarrassment takes form. though another form of jealousy crept too.

“you all heard?” you ask quietly.

donna nods immediately, “of course, everyone kinda did. but and of course roy is still up jade’s ass so whatever.”

she doesn’t notice how you’re demeanour shifts just barely. the creeping unease from everyone knowing your existence from a bet, no matter how much reassurance jason gave you. it was finally in front of you. you’d seen how you’re known to people you don’t really even know—as a joke.

twisting his head slightly, dick read how her words were hitting you before you’d even said anything yourself. he gestures to her hand quickly. “you’re drinking pink whitney?”

she shrugs and holds her cup up, “of course. don’t act like it’s not good.”

“never said that it’s just banned from this frat. too many bad memories.”

a distant shout makes grayson turn his attention that way again. when you turn too, you see conner with blood dripping down his neck and a face palming tim. the needle in conners hand is barely visible from where you were but you could see enough to know he was adjusting a new piece of metal in his lip, matching the other side.

he pierced himself and didn’t even seem fazed.

“for fucks sake,” grayson murmurs under his breath before putting hand up to both of you and storming over towards them.

“i told him not to do it,” tim sighs and shrugs while conner looks pleased with himself, already tonguing at the snake bite.

grayson grabs the towel and holds it to his lip himself, like the responsible guy he tries to be. “this is the last time you pierce yourself dude. just go to the fucking tattoo parlor across the street.”

beneath the paper towel, conner laughs but it comes out more muffled, “‘n pay sixty-five bucks? ya right.”

you’d probably been smiling at their interaction or just tuned out so much that donna tapped you again.

“do you want get a drink too? i’m basically out.”

glancing towards the front door once more, like it could bring jason back faster, you slowly nod. the two of you move towards the kitchen and donna starts talking about astrology and zodiac signs. she explains how her sign is compatible with most people but you don’t quite remember what her sign even was from how fast she talked. by the time she’s pouring you a drink in a solo cup and handing it to you, she starts talking about roy again.

“—he’s a dick. a real piece of work but when we’re alone he’s sweet. i don’t get it.” she sighs before gesturing towards you vaguely at how zoned out you were again, “but i’m sure jason is similar right? they are bestfriends.”

though you answer immediately, your blood warm from the alcohol already, “no. he’s actually really sweet in every situation. just kindhearted like it’s in his blood, i don’t know, it’s kind of infuriating.”

she nods along, “he keeps to himself yeah. just a real ass for making that bet over you babe. i’m sorry about that.”

grimacing softly, you sigh, “why’re you sorry? it’s not like you did it.”

“i mean, it just doesn’t make sense.” donna dramatically groans, “he’s in love with you! why’d do men do terrible things to the women they love?”

you down the rest of your cup and immediately regret it with a groan of disgust before shrugging, “it’s not love. it’s like a race of endurance. who can take more hardship from someone whose supposed to make their life easier.”

she laughs with her pretty teeth out, bumping shoulders with you, “you sound like you’ve had a lot of shitty boyfriends.”

“one was enough,” you genuinely laugh too before it simmers into something deeper, “and he’s not shitty and that’s the problem.”

she frowns, “oh babe, i know exactly what you mean.”

the front door continues to open and close, inviting new people in and letting others out. between the shuffling, the two of you slide onto the counter, legs crossed towards the other. that’s when a thought occurs to you again and it demands to be discovered. you gulp before you speak.

“um… did you really mean what you said earlier? that everyone heard what roy said?”

donna’s frown deepens before she nods, “the people around us and other sorority did.”

“who cares though? after you graduate, you’ll never gonna see these losers again.”

she jumps off the counter, “let’s go, show ‘em how hot you are.”

sipping your drink, you glancing towards the party through the doorway. you blink at her than down at your clothes that wasn’t meant for a party.

“nah i’m good in here.” lying right through your teeth like you were any form of good right now.

she rolls her eyes and drags you anyways, back towards the loud music. as soon as you’re back you see shots being poured by roy and wally. the two of them arguing over who had better taste in music while you walked over with donna. when you look to donna to tell her to ignore roy, she’s already got hearts in her eyes and you sigh softly to yourself.

“—all you listen to is fucking faye webster,” roy sighs, “i bet you listen to taylor swift too.”

wally gasps like he’s offended, “okay that’s where i draw the line.”

when roy opens his mouth again, conner drapes his arms around both of their shoulders, “both of you have shit taste, how’s that?”

as soon as roy squints at tim over conners shoulder. though tim only smiled tightly and tilts his head towards where you stood with donna. he catches donnas eye and he shoots her a stupid smile. the kind you recognize from him as the one he makes to women he wants to sleep with. you step slightly in front of her like a protective boyfriend or something even though you’d just met her. cause you know what roy is like and in the little time you’d known donna, you know how he makes her feel with so little words.

“have you seen jason?” you say with a tilt of your head.

roy shrugs, “he’s probably still being the keg inside.”

you frown, “you let him bring a whole keg in alone?”

“have you seen the man?” asking with genuine confusion towards you, “he’s fucking ripped.”

as if you even have to think about it, you nod and turn to go find him. donna’s already making her way towards roy before you can tell her anything. so you continue your way towards the garage.

music slowly getting quieter as you walk down the hall and into the laundry room. ignoring the people making out on top of the washer and dryer as you open the garage door and find it still open. and jason’s mustang still on. but he was nowhere to be found there. you circle the car and turn the corner to no avail still. jason wasn’t there. you turn towards the front door and still don’t find him. with an exasperated groan, you stomp towards the backyard door to try again at finding him because there’s no way he just left his car on right?

“you looking for something?” a husky voice calls out.

before you’d even touched the backward door, you spin on your heel to find jason there. blunt burning between his fingers as he leaned against his car.

“yeah actually.” as you approach him, “you.”

his face stays the same as he takes another drag. eyes not lifting from you and the same stoic look on them.

“so, you found me.” he says as he blows the smoke out. the grey clouding around him and the sour smell of marijuana radiating off of him. heady in the way that distracts you.

you nod like it means something and lean next to him. “you always seem to smoke in the same spot so if you were trying to hide, should try harder.”

jason sighs and stretches his shoulders, “i guess i’m getting predictable.”

the moment pauses as you try to decipher the meaning in his words. “i didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

his eyes meet yours as he pushes off the wall. “neither did i.”

making quick work to ash out his barely lit joint, he flicks it away as he pivots and moves to go back inside without even a glance towards your direction. something in your stomach twists. you frown to yourself before deciding to ask him.

“did i do something wrong?”

jason turns his head just enough to look at you. his hand still on the door as he pulls it open. the smile that he gives you barely reaches his eyes as that same exhaustion you’d seen earlier had returned.

“nah ma, you didn’t do anything.”

then the door follows behind him, leaving you in the cold air to think to yourself. just long enough to decide that you should go home and give the both of you some space.

space you knew would eat away at your sanity.

luckily, you’re not much of a drinker so waking up early wasn’t hard to do after last night.

getting to gordon’s presentation on his new paper was easier than your morning practicals, at least today. naturally as his assistant and amateur researcher, you’d been invited to attend the gala thrown by the sponsors.

by the time you arrived, the guests were set up and the audience was packed. gordon’s standing by the bar with some of the law professors, holding a darkened drink that was definitely bitter and pretentious. a select few men with their hair slicked back had gathered around where gordon stood. conversing and laughing in a pitch that exhibited more wealth than you’d ever known.

your heels were already killing you as you walked off the subway since they had to host this on the upper east side of town. you tug at your neatly arranged dress and step forward to mingle like you were supposed to. forced to talk to the people that funded gordon’s PhD and his years of research that every other person had found ridiculous.

the sound of your name being called made you turn towards it.

“when’d you get here sweetheart?” gordon smiled as he gestured you towards the rest of them.

he was always such a strong and respected figure that you saw him like a parent. since your first year, you’d taken classes with him and his years of extensive police work had drawn you in. gordon might’ve pushed you really hard like he wanted you to do well because he really did. in the back of his mind he knew you were brilliant and wanted to nourish it before you finally graduated.

that’s why you had a full year of research assistance under your belt thanks to him.

the men around him parted for you and you exchanged a gentle hello. “i just got here actually.”

he nods, “good. great timing. i’d like you to meet some people!” gesturing towards the people in crisp suits with swirling glasses. “this is clifford devoe.”

the name rang bells immediately from how poorly gordan talked about him in private to you. gordans eyes looked to you then to the man again, silently saying a thousand words. you fill in the blanks for him and offer your hand to clifford when he raises his to take yours.

“you must be the generous one the university appointed. it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

with your hand gently taken into his hand, the feeling of unease that radiated off of him was unmistakable. you hide the grimace that he caused when he repeats your name to you.

“hm, yes.” still holding your hand a moment too long. dragging his eyes over you before letting you pull away. “i’ve seen what you’d contributed to the study on adolescent rehabilitation and prison reform. truly sickening that we still debate the human nature of criminals.”

you’re sure you’re failing terribly at hiding your distaste now. “don’t you think it’s a little silly to attribute it all to human nature?”

from beside you gordan seems to purse his lips. though clifford scoffs and smiles small, “of course a young woman such as yourself would think so as if that’s some revolutionary thought.” laughing through his words.

the condescension was clear from his rude mouth. you could taste the bitterness he spewed.

you hum, “why of course a man such as yourself would believe no one is redeemable but him.”

from beside him, the black haired man in the suit catches your eye briefly before chuckling into his glass. narrowing your eyes at the shape of his eyebrows because they were just so familiar, the thick arches that mimicked wings. it reminded you of jason and his thick set brows that were studiously perfect without having touched them.

gordon clears his throat and nudges you softly before saying your name to change the subject.

“have you seen the completed poster with all the statistics? it looks really great, let me show you.”

before you can say anything else, he’s already been walking away, turning his head to look at you just to ensure you’re following him. with a polite and contrasting goodbye, you take your leave. feeling proud of yourself as

when you get to the poster, gordon’s standing there squinting like he’s got something bad to say. but he just shakes his head and points to the men you’d left at the bar, still conversing like no tension had ever raised.

“he pays for the damn project sweetheart, we can’t insult him no matter how much of an ass he may be.”

you shrug and sigh before mumbling. “at least not to his face right?”

despite the situation, gordan laughs. “yeah, at least not to his face.” patting your back and turning the both of you towards the poster. “now, did i tell you that they approved you as a peer-reviewed scholar once you’ve graduated?”

looking towards the statistics scattered across the large poster, you saw all the datasets you’d condensed. all the graphs and charts that you’d made and the spreadsheets that made you feel like you were losing brain cells. you didn’t think you’d get being a contributor to research paper on your record too. just being an assistant was enough. with a tilt of your head at the meticulous pie chart you made so long ago you forgot about, you hum.

“but i’m not gonna be here so how could i contribute anything anyway?”

he shakes your shoulder gently, the way the father would when he’s proud but doesn’t wanna say it with words aloud. “it won’t publish until october.”

that stopped your mind from thinking about anything else but what just came out of his mouth.

eyes widening as you turn to him. “wait, really?”

this would set you apart from other applicants in your graduate program and give you a better chance at getting into it.

he smiles with crinkles around his eyes and nods because you’d only been talking about this since you started. also because someone had already mentioned your interest to him.

“do i get any credit for that part of it?” a voice from behind you sound a d you turn to face it.

but you didn’t expect for it to be bruce wayne.

you blink at your friends dad that you’d only seen a handful of times before. now you recall how he was sat at the bar earlier, just his eyes visible and the realization of how they looked having distracted you enough. still you smile and lean forward to take his hand when he offers it.

“mr. wayne, it’s so nice to see you. i didn’t think you’d be here.”

his hand was firm and certain. righteous in a way that he radiated the energy even when you would just briefly see him.

“gordon invited me along with a couple business partners. it’s good to see you again. what’s it been? 2 years?” bruce gives a small smile while he places his drink on the table next to you. looking to gordon, bruce switches his gaze between him and the poster, “i’ve been thinking, you could go back as commissioner and implement these ideas yourself gordon.”

a snort escapes gordon as he shakes his head, “no way, and leave my cushiony tenure position?” laughing as he gestures to the poster. “you see the bridge in socioeconomic status and educational attainment? those positions don’t require degrees. they just need intelligence and compassion that comes naturally. you got a knack for those bruce.”

the two of them share a knowing glance before someone approaches gordon to ask about something with his focus group, taking away his attention. he excuses himself before he leaves you there with bruce. for a moment, it’s quiet while bruce watches the party, taking slow sips of his bourbon.

you watch with him, noticing how the people in this party were mostly the types who didn’t need to worry about these things. about the ones that are unfairly prosecuted or treated as villainous for trying to survive. no one in this room held that title the way you’d seen women and men alike being pressed. surveillance was created by them for them, to protect them.

that’s what made you want to get involved in gordon’s study. a chance to use theory and practice in a way that actually mattered.

“you think very loudly.” bruce suddenly says.

your head turns to his, still looking out at the people conversing and moving about. she’s trained over nothing and everything at once.

“my bad,” you laugh nervously.

he only shoots you another smile, “don’t be. your mind is brilliant and meant to think. don’t burn yourself out doing it too much. it’s a habit i’ve yet to get my sons to figure out too.”

sons. right.

nodding your head, you change the subject. “you know gordon pretty well?”

he nods too. “knew him back when he was still an officer. the man is a saint personified.”

distracted from the topic at hand, you try to stay focused, nodding along and silently staring at where bruce’s eyes were trained. though bruce is incredibly attentive, and he immediately notices how you’d been looking. fixing his watch that didn’t need any adjusting as he speaks.

“dick tells me jason misses you.”

nearly choking on your spit, you look to bruce again, forgetting to not look so surprised. “what?”

behind his professionalism, something turns warmer. “he’s taking academics more seriously. i’ve always told him he’s got the smarts when he puts his mind to it but i’m sure you’ve seen how shrugs it off.”

not knowing what to say, you nod him along.

“…he even applied for a couple graduate programs thanks to you and got into them all across the country.” lifting his glass and sipping.

“i didn’t know he applied.” you admit.

“it’s force of habit i guess,” he shrugs. “he didn’t even tell me when he got into gotham university. just started attending classes and brushed it off like it was no big deal which i assure you, it is.”

frowning at his fathers admission, “that’s kinda sad. he’s probably the smartest person i know.”

suddenly bruce smiles at you, his grin something more of fond remembrance. he adjusts his suit and sniffs just audible enough for you to notice. then his smile falls as he meets the eye of someone across from the room and they wave to one another.

“if you see my son, please let him know for me that his bike has been replaced. and that i need him to answer the phone when i call him.” touching your wrist softly and bidding you goodbye.

with nothing to say or actualize the fact with, you’d turned your attention back to the poster. the words swirling themselves until you’d forgotten what the last year collecting was about.

suddenly you’re glad there’s noone around to ask you about it, cause you’re not sure you’d know.

“dude just back that shit up on me.” grayson coos.

from in front of him, wally groans. “no dude, it’s not gonna fit in there anyways. just ask someone else to.”

“i’ll make it fit just shut up and do it.”

on the couch a phone rings. both of the boys ignore it and instead continuing muttering at the other. taking turns groaning as wally pushes the desk, hal shakes his head from the other side of the room.

“you guys know you could do this literally anywhere else.”

“and you could help, you know?” grayson sighs as he drops the horribly built ikea desk wally built. looking hal up and down, dick furrows his brow. “why are you even dressed like that?”

brushing off his shirt with absolutely no lint on it, hal smooths out the folds in his button up. grinning from ear to ear like a kid who’d won a prize. “I have a date.”

the boys all turn to look at him.

“oh,” wally lets the desk back on the ground, ignoring how grayson groans when it hits his foot. “a hot date huh? she got a friend?”

like perfectly horrible timing, jason’s walking into the living room. to grab his phone he’d forgotten that had unknowingly been ringing and buzzing. his eyes fall on hal on the chair immediately, trailing up his form with sharp eyes. dick clears his throat at the sight.

“your phones been ringing.” he simply says.

“yeah, i heard.” jason murmurs as he clears past hal wordlessly and heads straight to the kitchen as though he wanted nothing to do with him.

as though his very being annoyed him enough that he couldn’t spare him a glance right now. the sudden presence and departure of jason had thrown the energy of the room off for a moment, not because of him but how far hals discomfort radiated. wally takes a long look between grayson and hal before nodding towards where jason had disappeared behind the wall of.

“what’s his problem?” he sits next to hal on the couch, legs going up lazily on the coffee table.

hal opened his mouth to fill in the blanks, but grayson chimes in first, his eyes trained pointedly on hal as he answers wally. “his girl left him for some douchebag in a frat.”

awkwardly the air fills as wally nods. “right…”

“i’m gonna uh—” hal stands and leaves his cup on the table. “head out now. i’m picking her up and all.”

perched on the ikea desk, grayson nods with an expression that looks disapproving. “i expect you back around midnight cinderella. no hooking up on your first date.”

wally snorts, “hasn’t stopped him before.”

“shut up west.” effectively cutting through the tension again and reminding him who he was speaking about. “i’m serious, i’m putting the latch on after.”

the other two stay silent. hal nodding knowingly before grabbing his key and leaving them with a quiet goodbye. wally furrows his brows only minutes later as he contemplates. while the room drifts back into a silence and grayson leaves to check the kitchen only to find it empty, wally itches his chin.

“gray?” mumbling vaguely.

he hums in acknowledgment as he types away on his phone.

“is the girl he’s going out with jason’s girl?”

that gets him to look up from his phone and bring his hand out. hovering over wally’s forehead before flicking him with a sharp seething sound from his lips. grayson huffs.

“no shit sherlock. now stop straining yourself and get off your ass, get move this desk out of my living room.”

this entire situation was so fucked.

the night had hardly started and hal already fucked up in ways you knew jason would never. when he messaged you about confirming the date, he wouldn’t say where it would be. so instead, you opted to ask what to wear.

big. fucking. mistake.

never ask a man what to where to any occasion because they will give you false, misleading information and clearly hal jordan was no exception.

he told you to dress casual, something everyday, he said. thankfully you chose to wear a simple black dress otherwise you’d be entirely underdressed for this fancy restaurant he took you to. now he’s sitting across from you, flipping through the menu gracefully like he’s a food connoisseur. occasionally humming as he reads out the name of the dish to you.

“would you like the house caviar? it’s genuinely the best thing you’ll find in the tri-state area.” eyes twinkling beautifully under the romantic ambience lighting.

if it were any other period of your life, you might really, truly like him. the way he took charge and pushed to ask you out was hot. he found a way to wiggle into your life and he took what he wanted. hal was good looking, smart, and he had a good head on his shoulders. but somehow you found yourself looking into his eyes like they were interesting. found yourself staring at the orange illuminating his skin like it were the most familiar thing, and watching the flames flicker in his eyes.

staring at the flames that reminded you of him.

the warmth grew on your skin as his face morphed everytime you blinked and the love ached. your heart ached at the thought of him.

he touches your hand, “you okay?”

“huh?” you shut your eyes and look back at him quickly, shaking the distraction off. “sorry i missed what you asked.”

his thumb strokes the back of your hand soothingly. the action grounds you from the thoughts the swirled. “if you’d like caviar to try. the mussels are insane here too.”

shooting him a reassuring smile, you shake your head. “oh um, sure. whatever you’d like.”

“but would you like it?” he counters.

“probably not.” you answer honestly. “sorry.”

he smiles, “don’t apologize. it’s good to know though, next time i’ll take you somewhere not fish related.”

vaguely you nod and try to smile though you’re sure it comes out insincere. hal only frowns and squeezes your hand like he’d known you’d needed some reassurance to guide your thoughts.

“hey we can still go home.” suddenly he says. “i mean i don’t want to, shit i don’t care if jason mopes around and cries himself to sleep. i know what i want and that’s you.”

you blink slowly, letting his declaration find footing in your mind. technically he was right. you had these second thoughts because you weren’t even sure of this date would go ahead or if hal really did like you. it’s almost like he reads your mind when he tilts his head to look harder at you.

“—he doesn’t decide if we like eachother. i’d be damned if i let him get in the way of me and pretty girl just cause he fumbled her.”

the waiter comes by before you can speak through your parted lips and offers more wine. hal smiles and nods at the waiter, his warm hand still holding yours. it only occurred then that you were the one making this awkward, not him. the waiter pours your drinks and hal lifts his with his free hand, gesturing you to do the same. clinking the glasses, he swirls the cup and sips, his eyes trained on yours as you mirror him.

setting his drink back down and letting you take your hand back, hal orders for the both of you. part of you wasn’t sure how to feel, him taking that initiative to place an order of what you’d like to eat but also partially annoyed that he’d assumed what you’d like. or maybe he just did what he pleased. regardless, you were kind of glad he’d said something to the waiter cause the names of the dishes on this menu was absolutely insane. continually you look around the space, taking in the gorgeous lighting and the artwork that definitely costs thousands to maintain here. he watches your face while you stare at the tapestry behind him.

“do you like art then?”

you nod your head, still looking at the painting behind him. “i can appreciate it for sure.”

his eyes don’t falter, still staring at you while you’re looking around. “so can i.”

when you look to him, he’s got his head in one of his hands, smiling fainting with those dimples just deep enough to notice. he blinks at you, still giddy. “don’t mind me. i’m taking it in.”

you raise a brow at him. “taking in me or this place?”

“would it be wrong if i said both?”

heat rushes to his ears as soon as the words leave his mouth. it only makes you feel like imploding from how sweet he was being. fighting the urge to smile until he breaks into a soft laughter and you return the same. shaking your head and looking up the the chandelier hanging just next to you again. hal follows your gaze.

“you’ve looked at that chandelier at least eight times now.” this time looking with you like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“sorry,” you laugh. “i haven’t been anywhere this nice before.”

he tops off your drinks and leans his elbows on the table in improper etiquette. “don’t worry about apologizing. i’m not much fancy restaurant guy myself.”

pointedly, you eye him. his effortlessly handsome outfit and his crisp button up shirt. you narrow your eyes at him. “could’ve fooled me jordan.”

“hey,” he raises his hands in surrender. “i don’t even know what these forks are for. i usually like eating with the little one at home.”

a genuine smile returns on your face as you lean closer just as he’s been. “i’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be a sign of neurodivergence.”

“a fork?” he challenges. “you know what, you’re smart and pretty, i believe anything you say.”

lightly you smack his arm and shake your head, calling him stupid with no malice as you sipped your drink. after a couple more minutes, the waiter comes out with your food. as soon as you take a bite, you look up at him wide eyed and make a sound of approval.

hal smiles like he’s won the lottery. “yeah? it’s good?”

with your eyes still closed now, you shake your head and chew. “very good.”

pushing your plate to him, he laughs and takes a forkful to try. only seconds later moaning egregiously enough that the older people in the tables next to you have dirty looks.

“this, is better than sex.” he admits more loudly than he needs to.

“really selling yourself short there,” you laughed.

blinking he laughs. “i mean, sex is objectively good right. but if the girls not feeling it then it’s never good. as a man, i’m objectively not as good as this pasta.”

this only makes you laugh harder. “that still didn’t make any sense.”

your mind eases off of jason for a while as he presses you for information about school and your future. he listens so intently that it makes you feel respected and valued. though this doesn’t last long because you’re left thinking about jason again before you’re trying to shake it off to no avail. the comparisons were hard to ignore.

hal had ordered the caviar he was anxiously wanted you to try and reluctantly you’d made some excuse not to. hal shrugs and eats the rest while you’re not sure whether to be endeared or slightly horrified. but even this wasn’t an issue.

the problem was exactly that. hal jordan had no red flags for you to focus on. nothing for you to say so you could argue that you weren’t ready or that he was rude enough to warrant never seeing him again. he was quite the opposite of being crude. the date was far from terrible. he’d picked you up from your place and even came up to your floor to walk you down. flowers waited for you on the passenger seat once he got you there.

even after the dinner was over and hal had paid for the bill, he wrapped his coat around you and respectfully walked you of the building with a hovering hand. still unsure if he could touch you but not ready enough to ask to. he held the door open as he let you back into his car. drove you back to your apartment and walked you up the stairs all over again.

shamefully, all you could backtrack to was jason.

all you could imagine was the parallels to him at your front door, waiting for you to open it. now you were opening your heart to a boy you didn’t pay much mind to a month ago, no matter how physically attractive he was.

but hal had no problems to blame your inability to fall into to. no real issues to back up this feeling that he wasn’t yours because he isn’t jason.

you unlock your front door and push it open, standing in he doorway with the lillies he’d bought you. he stands behind you with his hands in his pocket and a sweet smile that should’ve made you melt, instead you felt like stone.

“thank you for tonight hal. i had a lot of fun.”

shrugging and nodding with that perfect, unfamiliar look on his face, he speaks. “i did too. i really hope i can take you out again soon, maybe something less fancy? this time i can cook for you?”

the thought only made you swirl further.

distant memories that felt closer than before reappeared. jason cooking in your kitchen with a soft hum coming from his throat as he chopped and stirred. him feeding you something saucy and cheesy before he kissed your lips to wipe the residue off. his hands travelling down your thighs while he pressed against you with his lame apron still on. his voice by your ear saying all the sweet things you’d ever wanted to hear. now you wanted to vomit.

you nod, looking into each of hal’s eyes and letting him lean in closer as he stares at your lips. the intention was clear and you felt frozen in place, but it translates as permission. as want as you stare longingly not at him but through him and imagine the face of the boy you love so dearly.

he leans further in and presses his soft lips to yours, deepening it as his hand came up to hold your head. though you don’t move from your place. you didn’t reach out to touch his head back or let go of the flowers. instead your grip loosened a little and you let your head go a little limp as he held you closer, though his lips somehow felt colder than the last ones you’d touched. then he pulls away, gasping slightly and smiling with his eyes closed in satisfaction.

“you’re so perfect.” whispering before he kisses your cheek and pulls away. “good night gorgeous.”

a shudder runs through you.

listening as his footsteps depart and you stand there with the flowers hanging low, petals facing the floor. after a minute you quietly slip into your house, a new sense of discomfort bubbling. you shut the door behind you and lean against it, flows slipping from your fingers and hitting the floor with a soft thud. a shudder runs though you.

you’re not sure how many minutes are spent like this, thoughts swirling you around and taking root in your mind. the thoughts of jason and unease guilt that you didn’t believe you should even harbour.

somehow you felt angry, not with hal, and not even with jason, but with yourself.

slow, hot years rush down your cheeks as you bury your head in your hands.

what the fuck were you doing?

the door shuts behind him with a thud, a soft groan on his lips as he slips his shoes off.

everyone should be asleep in the frat house now. it’s nearly 1am and he’s lucky grayson didn’t lock hal out. but there’s a light on in the kitchen, and something told him he wasn’t going to be let off so easily.

quietly hal creeps toward the kitchen, pulling off his belt as he approaches and leaves it on the table in the hall like he’d had a long day at work.

“how’s your date?” a voice grumbles.

hal nearly jumps, “jeez, fuck—jason? what’re you doing up?”

from the dining table jason grumbles again. dimly lit but just visible enough, hal spots a beer and a ashtray in front of him. “couldn’t sleep.”

stalking a little closer, hal turns on another light. “waiting up for me to get home i assume?”

“doesn’t matter,” he quickly answers. “whatever forget i asked.” getting up and throwing his beer out.

hal only stands there, watching him move and murmuring a quiet, “alright then…”

then jason turns around. he freezes in the doorway before he turns to hal, something on his face that meant he was serious. “just don’t… hurt her, alright?”

“you mean like you did?” crossing his arms across his chest as he blankly stares at jason.

“yeah,” jason agrees, his eyes shining with a soft sheen that told hal he was clearly emotional while he was out. then he resorts to threatening. “don’t do what i did cause i swear to god i’ll make you regret it jordan.”

though hal sees how he seemed defensive without any real malice. jason seems genuinely sad as though he’s realized what he done just as he was weeks ago, moping around the house. this time he only seemed defeated, and it didn’t seem worth it to keep dragging jason’s past along.

easing back toward the table, hal shrugs him off. “look man,” he sighs, “you don’t have anything to worry about.”

jason perks up a little as he look back up again. “what do you mean?”

“i mean,” shuffling his feet as he mentally prepares himself to reassure jason. “she seemed distracted the whole night. like she’s in her own head thinking about something else. it wasn’t until we got to her apartment that she—”

before he knew it jason was in his face, dangerously close. “you went to her home?” anger in his tone.

“i didn’t go into her home, i just dropped her off to her front door. no big deal. it’s not like we fucked or anything.”

his mouth opens and closes again like he’s going to ask him something but he doesn’t. instead he takes a backwards step and nods slowly. “right. good. you should be seeing her get home. it’s uh, safer that way.”

squinting his eyes like jason was entirely transparent despite how he tried to make himself seem, hal shakes his head. the tension falls from its rising crescendo and hal leans onto the table as jason anxiously taps his foot. the two of them unsure how to proceed from here. then grayson walks into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing at his eyes.

“you idiots whisper yell very loudly.” turning his head to hal to hone in on him. “didn’t i say be back earlier?”

“well you don’t lock the door.” shooting a cheeky smile that grayson doesn’t find amusing.

jason uses the opportunity to excuse himself and takes a bottle of water from the fridge. tugging on the drawstrings of his hoodie as he walks out. “night.”

the two boys return the sentiment and grayson turns back to hal, before jason is too far to miss their words. “how’d it go? you kiss her?”

from the staircase, jason stayed put there and held his breath. waiting for hal’s response to what he knew he had no right to be angry over. the milliseconds it takes him to respond felt like an eternity to jason.

hal chuckles quietly, “it went good. really good. i’m gonna take her out again next week.”

grayson nods expectantly. “you didn’t answer the second part.”

“yeah,” hal starts with a fond smile on his face, “i kissed her.”

letting out a slow, controlled breath from his nose, jason stares into the abyss ahead of him. at the dark unlit hallway that lead to his room and stalks towards it without thinking about it.

he doesn’t stay long enough to hear what his brother says and goes straight to his room.

your only lecture today was the most boring one to date.

students had fallen asleep on their desks across the lecture hall, theatre seating giving you great view to see exactly what everyone was up to. you were still distracted from the events that unfolded this the last week alone and how you’d done a date with hal only two days prior.

the thing is, you hadn’t told anyone about it yet. you hadn’t seen cassandra or grayson. you hadn’t even heard roy’s loud mouth in a week let alone seen jason.

now you were finishing up your notes and cross referencing it to the readings to understand what concepts overlapped. highlighting the theories that worked in contemporary cases and found something to discredit it for your final paper coming up. the professor spoke quickly as he went through the importance of ethics as a researcher. how you’d need to inform the participant of their role in your work and how they play an important part in pinpointing change.

how it was your job to be honest and responsible. to ensure you’ve spoke nothing but the truth to the people you’d involved. all you wanted now was to talk to jason. not that you’re sure what you’d say, just that his voice could ease your mind from everything else.

once the lecture is over, you’re the first one to leave. a sweet treat and coffee was in order for the fruits of your labour today—getting out of bed and going to a lecture.

the cafe air is always warm and inviting. the scent of arabian beans and baked goods drawing you closer to the counter. it’s a blessing that it’s located right at the edge of campus too, so when the library was too packed, you’d head here.

you take your drink and a house made brownie to head to the booth seat by the window. watching the clear blue sky and listening to the chatter in the cafe. you pull out your laptop and notebook, cracking your knuckles in anticipation for what awaits you and how much studying you needed to catch up on. no matter how hard you prepared, there was always more to do in university. plus, being a research assistant meant you’d have to push your work work aside to aid in a project.

though right as you open a new tab and click your pen, you see him.

jason walked into the store with his headphones on and his bag slung over his shoulder. he heads straight for the booth in front of you and ouuuu track his movements without making it obvious. though when he passes by your table, he slows down. his eyes fall over you as fast as he looked away, and you feel a sense of disappointment wash over you. then, he just slides into his seat and all you can see is his hair poking out the top of the booth from tall he is in comparison.

why were you disappointed that he didn’t really say hi, you’re the one who kinda ghosted him.

to yourself you blink. at the laptop you blink harder. no, you’re not being crazy right? why didn’t he reach out anyway? is this all justified to him like he doesn’t really even care? you guys have been studying together for a while now, and he always joins you so boyfriend or not, why didn’t he? aren’t you guys friends?

you’re standing up before you know it, grabbing your things and roughly shoving it in your bag. the reasoning had convinced you enough that he was the one being weird because he totally was. didn’t jason even say you did nothing wrong the other night?

“hey,” you say standing next to his booth.

he lifts his headphone from one ear, “uh hi.”

“why didn’t you sit with me?”

blinking as he pauses his music, jason slides his headphones off and gestures you to sit. quietly you do.

“i assumed you were busy.” he says as you sit.

“i wasn’t.” more timidly than you intended to.

he shrugs slightly, “it looked like you were.”

for a moment you still. maybe you were right. maybe he doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. but why won’t he just say it out loud?

jason fiddles with his headphones for a second before he decides the grain of the wooden table was more interesting. you however, weren’t amused. in fact, you were quite confused as to why he’d been avoiding you entirely.

“was it something that i said?“ plainly, you ask.

jason sighs and looks you in the eyes fully for the first time since you sat down. “we haven’t talked in days, what could you have said?”

“exactly,” nodding his sentiment along, “you’ve been avoiding me and i can’t figure out why…”

“i’ve just been busy.” he lies.

“liar.” you call him out. “we have the same classes.”

with his hands, he gestures slyly. “look,” not realizing how his tone gave him away. “you didn’t say anything wrong.”

“so i did something then.” you correct.

jason grumbles and says your name. “no, now you’re putting words in my mouth. we, you and i, we’re good. you don’t owe me anything ma. i just want you to be happy.”

the nickname makes your stomach flutter regardless. jason looks to his phone to a message from roy and sighs before standing up again.

but you’re thinking over the meaning behind his words. i just want you to be happy. you don’t owe me anything. where the hell was that coming from?

“i gotta go.” shoving his headphones into his bag and getting out of the booth.

“oh, already?” you try and fail to hide your disappointment.

he only nods, “i’ll see you around princess.”

then he walks off.

the meaning behind his words only swirled you more confused. the thoughts filling your mind and sending mixed signals throughout. his sudden cold demeanour had you thinking and overthinking, letting them sink through the fabric of your clothes and onto your skin like a brand you felt shameful wearing as it clicked.

fuck, jason knew.

—

“you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

grayson has always been terrible at hiding his actual feelings with you. he could hardly even mask it as he stretches his legs out for his run and shakes his head.

“you’re still in love with him. of course you are! you guys are both playing racket ball with my last couple of brain cells.” pulling his leg behind him into a deep stretch.

burying your face in the pillow on his bed, you try not to scream.

lucky jason wasn’t home according to grayson. he had gone up to the cottage to grab his bike apparently and decided to spend the weekend there so he wouldn’t be back until monday.

folding to lay his palms flat in the ground, he effortlessly continues. “i never liked the hal thing for the record. i’d prefer keeping you in the family.”

“gray, you’re not helpful at all.” you murmur from his pillow.

sighing, he stands upright. “alright. fine. you tell me then.” striding closer and ruffling you hair obnoxiously. “do you really love him?”

from the pillows you lift your head and look up at his watchful eyes, a arch in his brow that demanded honesty. slowly you nod.

“i think he made me understand what it means and i’ll always want him.” you admit.

grayson shakes his head at your response as you sit upright. “that’s not what i asked though. do you love him? because if you’re using hal to move on, that’s a disservice to both of you. hal and yourself.”

“not jason?” you raise a brow.

“nope.” he quickly answers. “that boy made his bed the first time he messed with you. everything else is fair game in my mind.”

that pulls a genuine laugh out of you. his honesty only making his statement funnier to you.

“aye, i’m serious. jason hurt you once, so i’m not sweating you trying to move on, even if it’s a little fast for you.” patting your shoulder softly as he moves back towards the door.

though a sinking guilt still held you, he made you feel a little better. “thanks gray.”

“anytime,” he smiles. “now you have no excuse to miss the party i’m throwing you.”

everything in your face drops, both in disbelief and shock. “for me? what?”

this only makes him smile wider. “ha, perfect keep that surprised face when everyone shows up. it’s not everyday someone gets into grad school like haven’t been gushing over it since their first year.”

before you can grumble his name or protest another party after last weekends where jason vaguely told you, “you did nothing ma.” grayson is already out the door. stomping down the stairs as his open door lets the sound of his voice travel.

“wear something nice please!”

the walk over to the frat house was obnoxious as the campus was packed. people gathered across the field with drinks and blankets, music and loud students celebrating their final days on campus.

there was no choice for you but to attend since grayson practically forced you to go.

opening the door to the house was where you saw just how much bigger this party was than he told you. loud music and synthetic smoke mixed to create a barrier that could make you feel intoxicated just by being there.

by the stairs, there was a group of people lounging and smoking. a huge bong between them and a couple joints being passed between the group. then there was people just standing near the door, lingering and talking. mostly flirting. in the living room was a game of spin the bottle and another group dancing to dancehall.

you hear your name being called just seconds before someone hands you a drink and you gracefully accept. grayson approaches you and eyes the cup.

“what’re you doing accepting random drinks when i made you a special punch eh?” wrapping his arm around your shoulder and walking you both towards the kitchen.

you laugh as he spins you by your finger and whistles at your outfit. “you actually listened and wore a skirt.”

gushing beside him is donna, roy’s arm lazily around her waist. “oh my god. you look so hot!”

taking in her attire you admire her. her black dress with sparkles that looked stars in a night sky. she was so effortlessly gorgeous.

“thanks.” you smile. “so are you. that dress is made for you.”

donna laughs and picks up a solo cup, handing it to grayson to pour as roy nods his head at you. then he whispers in her ear and grayson steals your attention once again bu handing you a full cup of punch that you just knew was 90% alcohol and 10% punch.

“this, my beautiful friend, is made solely for you.”

clinking his plastic cup with yours before taking a swig. reluctantly you do the same, taking a long sip of the drink made to inebriate you clearly. the taste made you wince and shake your head, hanging your tongue out of your mouth as you grimace.

“what did you put in this grayson?” you wince.

he laughs and rubs your back as you cough. “oh you know, seltzer, lime, vodka, don’t worry about it. it’s mean to get you drunk and let loose before you’re in that stuck up institution without me.”

“you’re in an institution right now.” you blink.

for a moment he thinks, then he shrugs. “whatever, did you eat yet?”

“uh. not dinner if that’s what you mean.”

he tsks at you and opens the cabinet, tossing a protein bar at you. you catch it and eye the bar before his face like you’d asked, why without saying the words. he gets it of course.

“cause i don’t want you puking at a party meant for you. so eat it please.” he kisses the back of your head dramatically and you could already tell just how drunk he was.

humourlessly, you let out a small laugh and shake your head. but you don’t miss when grayson catches roy’s eye. he tilts his head and mouths something that you would’ve missed if his distraction had worked. roy looks to grayson and shrugs, and his words you can make out.

i don’t know.

“girl,” donna snaps you out of your trance. “you look too good to stand around. dragging you out of the kitchen by your wrists.

you’re still sipping your drink as she pulls you over, needing the liquid courage to get you right to cope with this. she’s pulling you into the empty space and starting to dance a little while you rest your drink on the table. swaying her hips next to yours and humming thoughtfully to the song.

“come on!” she laughs and you can’t help but laugh too.

the liquid swirling you with more confidence as you start to raise your hands and let the beat thump through your body. slowly, you bring your arms up and up your body, swaying and letting your hair fall behind you. donna’s got her hands on your hips experimentally, moving you around and whooping. you play along and grind on her like she’s your man here. then you see stephanie and cassandra just lounging by the couches and you gesture them over.

they rise and dance with eachother, inching closer until all you could smell radiating off of everyone nearby was the intoxicating marijuana and alcohol that ruined you like no other.

but the name didn’t stick, and the blunt from between cassandra’s fingers made its way to your lips as she placed it there. smiling at you and loudly saying, “i’m glad you left your house smarty pants.”

you roll your eyes and blow out the smoke, the sensations intensifying as you grew more intoxicated. leaning closer to her face, you whisper yell, “why don’t you go dance with your girlfriend yeah?”

cassandra laughs and offers you another hit that you so gracefully accept, twirling as you take a long drag and pass it back over. she moves her way back towards stephanie and does the same in putting the blunt between her lips. you catch stephanie hollowing her cheeks and urging her closer, blowing the smoke right in her mouth.

you couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that rose inside you. what they had, you wanted so badly. you practically had it with jason, but now your here swirling in your thoughts because a smell and an action now attributed itself to him in your mind. slowly you sway over and slow your dancing, the thoughts filling you up in a way you hated.

a hand grazes your side and spins you to face them. a smile on his face that practically echoed his intentions.

“hey gorgeous.” hal greets you. “you look real good.”

you blink up at him, a little tipsy and definitely a little high. the cross fade making you open enough to lower your inhibitions. you smile back.

“hi hal, so do you.” letting his hands go around your waist so he could move with you slowly.

the people around you are grinding on eachother, but you knew well enough that that’s not why you wanted. instead, you move his hands that travelled lower and place them on your waist. he doesn’t even question it and lets you use him for support as you grabbed your cup and took another sip.

from the corner of your eye you see a girl touching up on a guy, his back turned so all you could see was the ripple of hard muscle under his shirt. but the way he moved was too familiar.

your breath hitched as you watched the scene unfold.

the redheaded girl dragged her hand down his chest as he turns to the side, one of his hands hovering over hers and the other flat at his side. she’s mouthing something close to his ear and he tilts his head to hear it. the air from the room felt like it was being sucked out as you saw his face. the girl giggles as jason whispers back, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest.

quickly you turn away and take a giant gulp. unknowingly you had been gripping at hal’s chest and he had just let you. his eyes followed where yours had led and he frowns slightly as you pull away to down your drink.

“you okay?” he suddenly asks.

you clear your throat. “yeah, i’m fine,” fake smiling to sell your words.

“don’t do that,” he rasps in your ear. “it’s okay to still love him.”

that takes you back and you look up to him, his hands still locked around your waist.

“what?” you quietly say.

he smiles like it’s the easiest thing. “you heard me. it’s not a crime to be in love. hell, he’s a lucky guy to have a woman as beautiful and driven as you.”

the implication made your face burn. he knew you’d been in love with jason all this time, but he didn’t want to make you feel bad about it.

your lips part as you rasp his name as though in apology. though hal just shakes his head.

“it’s okay, i’m fine. i knew you liked him all this time, i kinda assumed so when you declined the second date but i thought i could get you to understand there was more out there. more than him but part of me just always knew, it would always be jason.” smiling sweetly.

taking a moment to look into his eyes, you gauge his sincerity. hal only mirrors everything he said because he meant it deeply, and that somehow made it worse. you feel your heart twist.

“i’m sorry,” voice breathy as you purse your lips.

he just smiles and shakes his head, looking up to where jason was before he spins you around. “let’s dance over there yeah?”

feeling his energy shift, you frown and turn around anyway.

big mistake.

you could feel your heart breaking into couple dozen pieces. the girl had her hands in his hair as though they’d just kissed, and you’re standing here feeling like an idiot as she runs her fingers through jason’s hair.

suddenly this party didn’t feel so fun anymore. a small sigh escapes you as you abruptly turn back around to hal, hand touching his chest like you needed it to keep you sane. he clasps his hand over yours and tilts your head up at him.

“it’s okay,” he whispers close by your ear. “you can show him what he’s missing.”

before you could ask what he’d met, he lowers his face to yours and presses his lips against you. a gentle peck meant to prove something that you weren’t even sure you wanted to show. a muffled sound of surprise gets swallowed by his as he deepens the kiss, opening one of his eyes just to see if jason was looking. you feel him smile against your lips as your wide eyes watch his, looking past you to ensure that jason knew exactly what he meant by what he’d been missing.

jason never wanted to come to this party. he’d told grayson as much when called him and told him to stay longer at the cottage because he didn’t want him to bother you.

he was happy for you of course. the fact that you’d gotten into the school of your choice and got what you’d deserve was everything he could have ever hoped for. you were the one person he was sure deserved every part of this.

though jason couldn’t stay in those four walls any longer and not think about how close he was to having you again.

the memories rang like church bells on a sunday morning. there was no escaping it.

now he’s come back to the frat house to go rot in his room when he found that someone already made their way up here and stole his bong. entirely annoyed and grumpy over many different reasons, he made his way downstairs, still in his black tee and grey sweatpants like he didn’t belong there.

as soon as he’s met with the scent of alcohol, jason grimaces from the last time he’d been drinking and recalled the events. he moves his way towards the living room to get away from all the things mixed in the punch that’s was in the kitchen.

though only two steps into the living room, he sees you—dancing. a slight wick of sweat on your brow as you moved carefree, hands on your friends shoulders while her hands were in the air. the way you moved was intoxicating enough for him. the air tightened and the room quieted as he saw you there and jason felt himself moving closer without even realizing, just magnetized to you especially now.

he made it a point to see who else was nearby, watching stephanie take cassandra’s hand and dance closer. then he averted his gaze to the men by the wall and saw the one person he definitely didn’t want to see.

hal fucking jordan.

the blood in his veins boiled for reasons he didn’t want to voice. something tore through his skin like it wanted to break free and grab him by the collar. part of jason wanted to physically fight him, no reason than for how close he’d gotten to you. but you kissed him. or maybe hal kissed you. either way jason knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t kiss him if you didn’t like him or at least didn’t see it heading that way.

jason sighs lowly as he sees hal down the rest of his cup and make his way over to you.

maybe he should get to you first, he thought.

no, you’re happy. at least you looked happy.

he talks himself out of it just as hal touches your hip. still halfway through lunging at him, someone touches jason’s shoulder and he turns to see roy standing next to a redheaded girl.

“jason, my friend here said she thinks you’re good looking.” straight to the point, roy says.

the girl smiles sheepishly, “hi.” her voice hoarse like she’d drank too much already. inebriated enough to have no social awareness.

roy smiles and steps behind her, shooting a wink at jason before leaving them to it. jason cusses under his breath before she drags her hand down his chest.

“woah, you’re like really fit.” giggling as she traces her hands down his pecks.

laughing uncomfortably, he takes her hands gently off his chest. “uh, thanks. did you come here with your friends?”

she hums and leans closer to him, the heady scent of alcohol on her breath as she gets closer. “they don’t mind though. do you mind?”

he looks over her shoulder to see hal with his hands around your waist, speaking in your ear too intimately for his comfort. he tenses at the action but watches as you do the same, your hand at your side clenching and your nails digging into your palms. watching as you bite your lip, not in the way he loved when you wanted him to touch you, but as though you were uncomfortable.

jason turns his attention back to her as she loops her fingers through his belt loops and quickly grabs her hands.

“woah, woah.” still uncomfortably laughing as he presses her hands to her stomach trying hard to keep her away. then he lets her go. “easy.”

“what?” she giggles, running her hands up his back and through his hair. “you got a girlfriend or something?”

immediately he nods, “yeah actually i’m supposed to go meet her so.” he backs up and takes her hands off him once again.

jason looks left and right and spots roy watching from afar. a stupid grin on his face as he waves at jason. giving him an annoyed look, jason gestures him closer and he reluctantly comes. feet slow as he approaches like jason’s an animal that could pounce on him at any moment.

“hey you two,” he points. “you guys alright?”

jason’s scoffs, “yeah asshole. can you make sure she gets to her friends? i don’t think she should be alone this off drunk.”

the girl scoffs too, “i’m perfectly fine actually.”

he shoots her a look before looking back to roy. the girl waves him off annoyed and moves behind roy to text on her phone. though roy puts his hand over his shoulder and sighs.

“look man, i was just trying to help. i mean she’s moved on, i feel like you should too. get laid and get over her y’know?” gripping his shoulder tight with one hand.

“no,” jason shakes his head. “i’m perfectly fine how i am, thanks.”

“i don’t know dude. i feel like all this yearning isn’t healthy.” roy shrugs and sips his beer.

jason pulls his arm off of him and sideeyes roy like he’s personally offended him. “hal said they kissed, sure, but i don’t think she really likes him like that.”

“really?” roy says with a grimace on his face, pointing ahead as he stares. “are you sure about that?”

“what do you mean?”

heart pounding in his chest as he follows roy’s gaze to where you stood. reality felt like it had sped through fast and time was slipping from between his fingers. the music faded like a dramatic movie as he watched hal, kissing you.

his lips parted as he watched, mouth gape and his hands balled into fists.

his filthy hands touched your chin and pulled you closer while the other rested on your waist. he watched as he deepened the kiss and leaned closer into you, back arching slightly as your hand unclenched and opened in the air.

taking the beer from roy’s hand, jason abruptly turns. “you have my car keys no?” he suddenly asks.

roy stammers, pulling the keys from his pocket, “yeah but, are you okay? considering what you just saw—”

jason grabs the keys and walks away quickly. making his way through the crowd and out to the garage, shutting the door behind him shut.

it was clear to him now—you were happier without him around.

—

only the loud bass and the thumping in your chest could be heard from between you. parting from hal, your hand immediately went up to your mouth. cupping your lips and wiping them unintentionally as you blinked up at him.

“what was that for?” huffing as you stared at him.

“what? i thought you wanted him to know you’re okay without him too.” he furrows his brows.

horrified, you turn around to where jason stood and find him nowhere to be seen. you flicker your gaze over the crowd, over the people, over the dancing bodies and the smoke filled air—but nothing. jason wasn’t here anymore.

he was leaving again.

you push slightly as hal’s chest. “i know you mean well but, i didn’t want him to think—”

“shit,” hal interrupts, his hand at the back of his own neck rubbing soothingly. “i just assumed. fuck, i’m really sorry, i thought… i should’ve asked.”

you were sure you had tears in your eyes now. the thought of jason having to see you with someone else made you feel like your blood had frozen over.

you stammer as you back away from him. “i have to find him.”

in recognition, he nods. “yeah, of course. i can explain it to him if anything.”

but you’ve already run from the living room, storming through the crowd like a madwoman. pushing past the drunk people in the hallway and storming up the stairs to his room.

you put the door open and jason isn’t there. just as fast as you went up, you ran back down, heart thumping in your ears as you caught a glimpse of roy sitting on the couch with the same girl as earlier in his lap. you stride right over to them.

“roy,” you gasp. “where’s jason?”

immediately he sees the raw emotion on your face. the way the colour seemed to drain from it and how you seemed like you were about to throw up from the looks of it. his expression shifts from the flirty front he puts on into the friendly, caring one he only recently exposed to you.

he nods slowly. “he took his car keys from me and left. he didn’t say where though i’m sorry.”

the girl in his lap tilts her head at you, clearing sizing you up. “isn’t that the grump tall guy? girl don’t even bother, he said he’s got a girlfriend.”

the pang in your chest only tightens as you realized he didn’t even kiss this girl. he told her he had a girlfriend and you knew there was no one else. he was talking about you. and now he’s seen you seemingly making out with hal in his brothers frat and everything fell into place. like pieces of a puzzle that was horribly mixed up.

roy snaps you out of it when he speaks up.

“i parked in the garage if that helps.” his lips in a small frown like he were sorry.

you nod as you back away and head straight for the garage door. feeling tears welling in your eyes and a pit in your stomach as you inch closer.

what if he left already?

what if he’s come to the conclusion that this was all too hard to deal with and he was better off just finding someone new when he got one of those grad schools across the country?

part of you felt guilty now for ever even trying with hal when you don’t feel the spark you desperately craved from one person. but you kept telling yourself you should try. that jason was ignoring you because he had already decided for the both of you.

by the time you get to the door and push it open, you feel entirely sober by his car still there.

you sigh in relief as you get to the passenger seat and yank it open. sitting in the chair quickly and shutting the door behind you just to find jason sitting there gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing grounding him right now.

your name on his tongue was sweeter than it should’ve been on these circumstances.

“what’re you doing here?” he sighs. “shouldn’t you be in there?”

steadying yourself you purse your lips and bite your tongue. jason furrows his brows and tilts his head at you.

“hey,” making you turn to him still unable to entirely meet your gaze. “are you okay?”

you nod as your lip trembles. how do you tell him that you’re madly in love with him and even with a new, perfect guy, all you can imagine is jason.

his demeanor shifts at your inability to respond.

“did he,” jason starts. “did hal fucking hurt you?”

“no, jason.” picking at your nails and sighing. “he didn’t do anything wrong.”

then, slowly, he nods as if in realization. face slipping back to the same blank compliance as before. “right. he’s your boyfriend, sorry.”

“he’s not my boyfriend jason.” you snap. “god, you ignore me all week and then you make think you’re making out with some random girl.”

projecting like you weren’t the one kissing someone else. though that’s besides the point.

“hey, i wasn’t kissing anyone.” flickering his eyes over your face, taking in the way your skin paled. “i swear, i didn’t.”

“why not?” unable to hide the way your voice broke. “i mean i hurt you. i wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to write me off.”

that makes him scoff more harshly than he intended. “why would i do that when i have…” stopping himself. “when i don’t want them?”

his response only makes you feel worse though the way he was holding himself back from admitting the truth, it only makes you want it more.

“why not?” the words come out small.

jason furrows his brows. “why?”

“yeah,” you look at him, tears still glazing over your eyes. “why not?”

“because,” he stammers. “there’s no timeline on moving on. you can do whatever you want so i can also take my time no?”

“please, you’ve been avoiding me like a sickness and staring at hal like he kicked your dog.”

clenching his jaw, jason sighs heavily. “that’s not true.”

“isn’t it?” scoffing as you watch the side of his face. “you hate me and him and it’s my fault.”

groaning out your name like it hurt to say, “i don’t hate you. i could never hate you.”

“then why are you ignoring me?” you ask, interrupting him before he can do it to you. “and why aren’t you coming to class? or ever here when come to see grayson or hal—”

but that clearly pushed a button and jason snaps.

“because i can’t fucking stand him!” he raises his voice.

the sound taking you aback and a small scoff escapes past your lips as you watch him breathe heavier. nodding your head, you turn completely towards him in your seat and tuck a foot under your knee just to look directly at his face.

“you could stand him perfectly fine a couple weeks ago when he wasn’t going out with me.” crossing your arms as you stare at him.

his head shakes as he grips the steering wheel tightly. “it’s not that simple and you know it.”

“oh please, enlighten me then jason.” you press on, entirely over this situation and needing him just as badly as you wanted to hate him.

“you—” he starts and stops again.

you’re watching him as he shuts his eyes and lets out a deep exhale. suddenly he looks up to your side and trails his gaze over your face, lifting his fingers towards you like he’s twitching just to touch you.

in his eyes, you find the same adoration you’ve always loved, but now it’s accompanied by a bitter taste. he presses on.

“when i see you with him, i feel like i’m suffocating. like the air around me has been sucked away and i can’t do anything about it cause i did it to myself.”

parting your lips as you watch him confess what he’s hidden for weeks, you listen. brows upturning as he shakily breaths out your name.

“it’s selfish, i know. you’re your own person and i ruined us with all the lies. so you’re more than allowed to date other people. i just can’t… i—i can’t be around it. i won’t.” gulping as he looks at your hands in your lap now, wanting badly to hold them in his. “i know there’s too much baggage between us and i i hurt you but part of me thought we’d figure it out?”

his tone upturned at the end as though he’d contemplated within himself before voicing it.

“—is that why you’re leaving?” interrupting his thoughts and barely concealing the emotions that threatened to spill over. “because of me?”

something in his eyes seem to soften then, flickering and fanning out like all hope had dissipated.

his voice is quiet and unsure as he rasps. “what?”

“you don’t have to lie jason and you sure as shit don’t have to avoid me like the plague. i just wanted to feel wanted like a person and not a fucking prize.” slow tears slipping down your warm cheeks. “you never told me you were going to leave me though.”

taking a large gulp, he shakes his head. “i was never going to leave you.”

but you’re shaking your head. “i know you applied to grad schools across the country and i know you got it. i just can’t understand why you hid that part from me.”

furrowing his brows like he’s trying to understand where you got to that conclusion, he looks deep in thought. then recognition flickers behind his eyes and he leans closer, clasping your hands in his. staring into your eyes like he were sorry. you sniffle as he takes your hands and try not to sob at how royally you’d felt like you’d fucked this up.

“bruce told you at gordon’s event didn’t he? fuck, i wanted to be the one to do it.” he searches your face when you look down into your lap. though jason follows your head and tilts his. “i’m sorry. i said no more lies and i hid this.”

he leans even closer, enough to smell your perfume and the slight intoxicating scent of lingering weed illuminating between you. jason sighs and holds back his own emotions. “i feel like i’m always apologizing to you like an idiot.”

between quiet sniffles you find yourself leaning closer to him, searching unconsciously for comfort. you lean your head onto his shoulder.

“you’re not an idiot. i just can’t stand to lose you jay.” the quiet admission slips.

immediately he cradles your head there, leaning his own head on top of yours and gently touching your cheek. he whispers a small shaky noise that sounded to your name before he takes a shallow breath.

“you’re allowed to be happy. if he’s making you happy then i want that for you.”

you pull away to look at him, the motion evident all over your face now that he could see it again.

“damn it jason, i’m not fucking happy! i didn’t move on,” elevating your voice like you were speaking to yourself more than him. probably still more intoxicated than you felt. “i don’t love hal. i don’t, love anyone else but—” you cut yourself off.

the car suddenly feels a lot smaller. the doors seemingly doing nothing to make you feel closer to jason despite how close you say next to another. the silence stretched for what felt like minutes but was only seconds.

but jason, his eyes were glued to yours.

“you love someone else?” voice small as he carefully watches you. waiting patiently for you to fill in blanks he desperately wanted to be right about.

slowly, you nod as a tear slips down your face. “you jason. it’s you.”

his hands touch your face delicately. thumb grazing over the warm tear as he held you close. from how close you say now, you could see the tears welling in his eyes and the relief that flooded as he switched between your eyes.

“you love me?” breathlessly, he said.

unable to say anything through your broken tears, a sob breaks out as you nod. jason presses his forehead to yours and whispers your name, over and over like he’s counting his blessings.

“please,” he rasps, “please say it. i want to hear it ma, please.”

between sobs, you melt against him. tearing wetting your lashes and his skin.

“i love you jason todd. i love you so much that it’s causing me physical pain.” laughing a little at the end as he joins you.

“yeah baby? well, the feeling is mutual and i love you more than i’ve ever loved anything or anyone.” gazing into your eyes like it held the key to all of his prayers.

pulling you closer like there wasn’t a dashboard between you. all resolve crumbs as you climb over it and into his lap, straddling him tight. his hand grazes over you hair and pushes it back as he makes you face him, wiping the tear streaks from your skin. he shushes you as you sniffle.

“don’t cry baby, i’m not leaving. i’m never leaving you again. you hear me?” kissing your cheeks as you pull at his shirt. “i didn’t pick a school yet. i haven’t chosen one because i can’t breathe if you’re not close.”

you hum as you pull at his shirt again, tugging him closer and letting him lean you against the steering wheel. pulling his hair back to watch his handsome face smile up at you. your eyes flicker to his lips and he smiles brightly as he drops his hands to your thighs, kneading the plush there.

“you want something princess?” teasing despite the circumstances.

you can’t help but laugh and roll your eyes. “just kiss me already jason.”

“for you? anything.”

then he’s on you, pressing his perfect lips to yours. it feels like your floating over yourself as he deepens it, holding you tight against him as shops his tongue down your throat. you him into his mouth, moaning lowly as you hips mindlessly shift against him. jason groans and bucks his hips slightly, biting your lip to make the sweet sound slip past your lips and to his ears.

“baby,” he rasps against your mouth.

though you don’t part, instead you tug at his shirt and pull up the hem. jason gets the message immediately, letting you pull it up enough for him to take it off all the way. his shirt is off when you trail your fingers down his abs, touching the hard muscle that you missed like a pillow. you graze your fingers up and down while you kiss down his jaw, eliciting a gorgeous moan from him that felt like music to your ears.

fumbling with your skirt while you undid his belt, you could feel how hard he was beneath you.

“are you sure?” breathlessly he says while you nip up by his ear.

nodding, you moan against his skin, biting the love and kneading it with your teeth.

“yeah jay.” you rasp. “i need you.”

it’s enough to spur him further, hiking up your skirt as you push his jeans down with his boxers. you feel his hard length against your bare inner thigh, painfully hard and leaking in your need.

he’s moving to pull your panties down when you stop him, taking his hand and guiding him to push them to the side instead. urgency in your movements as you watch the realization in his eyes. jason only smiles as you guide his length to press against you. the message is clear as he nods and kisses you again, pecking your lips in little movements as though savouring you.

then you’re pressing down against him, mouth parting as you take him. seating yourself down as he holds you, guiding your hips when you try to take him at once. jason stops you before you try to let him all the way in. he sighs like he’s straining himself.

“breathe baby,” gulping as sweat wicks his forehead. “no rush. breathe. it’s all yours yeah? i’m all yours.”

you nod as you lean forward again, capturing his lips and lapping at him. he tightens his hold on you as you tilt your head, pressing him further into his seat as you begin to shift your hips. sinking further down against him, jason guides you there.

he doesn’t thrust up into you when you take him completely. instead, he parts from your lips, letting you breathe with a line of spit between you from how desperately you both needed eachother. jason groans lowly as you continue to shift your hips, dropping his head against the seat as praises escape from your lips.

“so good jay,” whining as you bounce against him. “you’re so perfect baby.”

jason returns the whine and bites his lip. this only excites you further, knowing how it pushes his buttons and turns him on. you know your man. grinding against him harder, you moan as he kneads your ass in his palms. little moans and words of affirmation as the signs of him losing himself made you want it more.

“i love you,” he moans helplessly, saying your name over and over. “god, i love you so much.”

“i love you too baby.” you whisper against his lips. “you’re so good. fuck, you’re so big.”

he makes another whimpering sound, his hips stuttering against yours as your movements only grew wilder.

“shit baby, don’t say that. i’m gonna lose it.” groaning as he throws his head back again, entirely lost in the feeling of you.

the peak was creeping over on you too. you could feel yourself there, sensitive enough to let go, but not enough to get him there first. hips moving in tandem with yours as he bucked up into you.

“good,” you sighed dreamily, smiling down at jason who’s just barely keeping it together. “i want you to let go.”

“oh fuck,” he moans.

he bites his lip so hard you think he’s gonna make it bleed. fingers digging into your thighs like an anchor. another whimpering sound that grew into a moan as he dropped his head to your chest. lazily grinding against you as he held you tight against him.

“please jay,” knowing exactly what you were doing. voice breathy and seductive. “i wanna feel it inside me.”

the response is immediately as he sputter and loses all semblance of himself. his hips buck up, once, twice, and he hold it deep inside you. letting go and painting you inside as he made swallow thrusts.

the feeling crashes over you too as soon as you feel it, crying out as he held you through it, guiding your hips still. he makes sure to rock you through your peak, lazily grinding as you gasped for air.

coming down while he kept you close, collapsed against his chest. melting into him while he caught his breath. jason sucks in a sharp breath and sighs. his spent leaking onto his lap and he didn’t care.

“i meant it.” he admits while you’re still reeling.

you hum quietly to tell him to continue.

“that i love you. that i’m never leaving you.” already kissing your dampened hair as he remained seated inside you.

“i meant it too,” you croaked, entirely spent. “i love you jason todd.”

the smile on his face could be felt through your hair, and he laughed as he tightened his hold around you. almost crushing but you couldn’t care less if you tried.

“so,” his voice still sounded unsure like he was gauging your opinion and didn’t want to overstep. “does this mean i can call you my girlfriend now?”

putting a hand to his chest to lift yourself, you look him in the eyes. squinting as you smack his chest lightly.

“i’ll kill you if you don’t.”

a slow smile creeps over his handsome face. the expression only makes you want to jump his bones again like he wasn’t hardening inside of you all over again. jason cups your cheek and pulls you in for another sloppy, wet kiss. slipping his tongue past your lips and biting your lip as he parts.

“good. cause i’m gotham u offers a good criminology masters program and i’m thinking of accepting it.” pressing his lips to your nose and to your forehead as you giggle.

then his word click and you gasp. “gotham u?”

he nods dreamily with his eyes half lidded, watching you. “well if my girlfriend is still going there then—”

“yes!” you shove him further into his seat, taking the turn to kiss all over his face. “a million times yes. don’t you dare,” speaking between kisses, “change your mind.”

he pinches your side so you stop and leans his forehead against yours again. either hand on the sea of your face like he was trying to memorize how you felt and brand it to his skin. jason stared lovingly into your eyes and you felt it, deeply.

for the first time in months, you felt love unconditionally and unapologetically reciprocated.

“i wouldn’t dream of it princess.” eyes twinkling as he stared at you.

looking into his eyes, the future didn’t feel so scary anymore.

"The cute regular. Their name. Maybe their phone number. Normal people stuff."

"I don't need their phone number."

"You watch the door every Tuesday and Thursday starting at 3:45."

"I'm observing foot traffic patterns."

"You're pining."

"I don't pine."

"You're doing something sad and longing. That's pining."

Jason was saved from responding by the bell above the door. 4 PM. Tuesday.

You walked in, and like clockwork, headed straight for the classics section. You were wearing an oversized sweater, jeans, and the same nervous expression you always had—like being in public was slightly overwhelming and you were trying very hard to manage it.

"I'm just saying," Roy whispered, "that's a person who looks like they could use a friend."

"They look like they want to be left alone."

"Or they look like they're lonely and don't know how to not be."

Jason hated that Roy had a point.

You approached the counter with your selection—Jane Eyre, a worn paperback copy—and set it down carefully, not quite making eye contact.

"Just this today?" Jason asked, keeping his voice gentle. He'd learned early on that you startled easily.

"Yes, please." Your voice was soft, almost musical. "Thank you."

"You've got good taste. Brontë's underrated."

You looked up briefly, surprised. "You've read it?"

"Yeah. The madwoman in the attic is basically a gothic horror subplot in a romance novel. It's great."

The smallest smile crossed your face. "I never thought of it that way."

"Most people don't. They focus on Rochester and Jane, miss the whole psychological terror aspect."

"That's... actually a really good point." You were still looking at him, and Jason realized this was the longest conversation you'd ever had.

Then you seemed to realize it too, because you quickly looked down, pulling out cash. "How much?"

"Six fifty."

You handed him exact change—you always had exact change—and took your book.

"Thanks," you said again, already turning toward the door.

"Wait—" Jason said before he could stop himself.

You paused, looking back nervously.

"I'm Jason. I, uh, own the store. I realized I've been seeing you twice a week for months and never actually introduced myself."

"Oh." You clutched your book. You practcally mumbled your name and if Jason wasn't so focused on you, he would have missed it.

"Nice to officially meet you."

"You too." You hesitated, like you wanted to say something else, then just gave a small wave and left.

Roy waited exactly ten seconds before saying: "That was painful to watch."

"Shut up."

"You like them."

"I don't even know them."

"You want to know them. That's the same thing." Roy grinned. "And they smiled at you. That's basically a marriage proposal in shy person language."

"You're an idiot."

"An idiot who's right."

Thursday

You came in at 4 PM, same as always. But this time, you looked more tired than usual, like you hadn't slept well.

Jason noticed because he was pathetic and noticed everything about you.

You browsed longer than normal, picking up books and putting them back, clearly unable to decide.

After fifteen minutes, Jason walked over. "Can I help you find something?"

You jumped slightly. "Oh. Sorry. I'm just... I can't decide what I want to read next."

"What kind of mood are you in?"

"I don't know. Something... comforting? I've had a long week."

Jason thought for a moment. "Come here."

He led you to a different section, pulled out a worn copy of The House at Riverton. "Kate Morton. Historical fiction, mysterious, but ultimately hopeful. Good for when you need something engaging but not too heavy."

You took it, reading the back cover. "This looks perfect. Thank you."

"No problem. That's literally my job."

You smiled again, and Jason's heart did something stupid.

"Can I ask you something?" he said.

"Okay."

"Why here? There are bigger bookstores, libraries, online shopping. Why come to a crime alley bookshop twice a week?"

You were quiet for a moment, considering. "It's quiet. The big stores are overwhelming. Too many people, too much noise. Here it's..." You looked around. "Peaceful. Safe."

"Safe?"

"Red Hood protects this neighborhood." You said it matter-of-factly, like it was obvious. "Everyone knows that. It's the safest place in Gotham for people like me."

Jason's throat felt tight. You had no idea you were talking to Red Hood. No idea that your safety was his personal mission.

"People like you?" he managed.

"People who aren't good at... people things." You clutched your book. "I have really bad social anxiety. Going out is hard. But I need books, and the library is always crowded, and online shopping feels impersonal." You looked at him. "Coming here is manageable. You're patient. You don't make me feel weird for being quiet."

"You're not weird."

"Most people think I am."

"Most people are idiots."

You laughed—actually laughed—and the sound was so unexpected and lovely that Jason wanted to record it.

"Thank you," you said. "For that. And for the recommendation."

"Anytime."

Two Weeks Later

You started staying longer.

Not talking, exactly, but existing in the same space as Jason. You'd buy your book, then sit in the reading corner for thirty minutes, an hour, sometimes two.

Jason would work on inventory, help other customers, and try very hard not to stare at you curled up in the armchair like you belonged there.

"You could sit with them," Roy suggested during another visit.

"They're reading."

"So read near them. It's called parallel play. Very soothing for introverted people."

"How do you know about parallel play?"

"I have Google and concerns about your social life."

Jason considered this. Then, feeling ridiculous, he grabbed a book and sat in the chair across from you.

You looked up, surprised.

"Is this okay?" Jason asked. "I can move if you want to be alone."

"No, it's..." You smiled shyly. "It's nice. Having company without having to... perform."

"Yeah. I get that."

You went back to reading. Jason opened his book. You sat in comfortable silence for an hour.

It became a routine.

You'd come in, buy a book, sit and read. Jason would eventually join you. You'd exist in the same space, peaceful and quiet, occasionally exchanging a comment about what you were reading but mostly just... being.

It was the best part of Jason's week.

One Month Later

"I brought tea," you said one Thursday, holding up a thermos. "I made too much. Do you want some?"

"You brought me tea?"

"Well, I brought tea. I'm offering to share it. If you want. You don't have to." You were already second-guessing yourself. "Sorry, that's weird—"

"It's not weird. I'd love some tea. Thank you."

You poured him a cup in the extra mug you'd brought, and Jason tried not to read too much into the fact that you'd planned this. Brought an extra mug. Thought about him enough to share.

"It's chamomile," you said. "I know it's kind of boring—"

"It's perfect."

You both sat in your usual chairs, drinking tea, reading in comfortable silence.

"Can I tell you something?" you asked after a while.

"Sure."

"This is my favorite part of the week. Coming here. Reading with you. It's the only time I feel... normal. Like I'm not broken for being quiet."

"You're not broken."

"I know. Logically, I know. But sometimes it feels like I am. Like everyone else got a manual on how to be social and I missed that day." You looked at your tea. "My therapist says I need to work on it, but the thought of going to social events or trying to make friends makes me want to throw up."

"So don't."

You looked up. "What?"

"Don't force yourself to be someone you're not. If you're introverted, be introverted. If you need quiet, take quiet. The world's loud enough already. Someone should get to be peaceful."

"That's... really validating, actually."

"I'm serious. You come here, you read, you exist exactly as you are. That's not broken. That's just different."

"Do you really think that?"

"I know that. I've seen every kind of person in this city. The loud ones aren't better than the quiet ones. They're just louder."

You smiled, and this time it reached your eyes. "Thank you. For understanding."

"Thank you for bringing tea."

"I'll bring it every week if you want."

"I want."

Two Months Later

You still came twice a week. You still brought tea. You still sat and read with Jason in comfortable silence.

But you also started talking more.

Small things at first. Comments about your books. Observations about the weather. Gradually, carefully, you opened up.

You told him about your job—data entry, remote, perfect for someone who didn't like offices. About your apartment, small and cozy, full of books and plants. About your cat, Mr. Darcy, who was an asshole but you loved him anyway.

Jason told you about growing up in Crime Alley. About loving books because they were an escape. About opening the store because the neighborhood needed something good.

He didn't tell you about being Red Hood. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

He liked being just Jason with you. The bookstore owner. The guy you drank tea with twice a week.

"Can I ask you something personal?" you said one evening, after the store had officially closed but you were still there.

"Sure."

"Do you ever get lonely? Running this place by yourself?"

Jason thought about it. "Yeah. Sometimes. But then I remember why I'm doing it. This neighborhood needs places like this. Quiet places. Safe places."

"You're really good at creating safe spaces."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. This whole store feels like a hug." You blushed. "Sorry, that's weird—"

"It's not weird. That's actually the nicest thing anyone's ever said about this place."

"I mean it. Coming here feels like coming home. You make it easy to exist."

Jason's heart was doing that stupid thing again. "You make it easy to exist too."

You looked at him, really looked at him, and something shifted in the air between you.

"Jason?" you said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Would it be okay if I—can I hug you?"

"You want to hug me?"

"You look like you could use one. And I—I'd like to. If that's okay."

"Yeah. That's okay."

You stood up, crossed the space between your chairs, and carefully wrapped your arms around him.

Jason hugged you back, and you were warm and soft and you smelled like tea and old books, and he thought this might be the best moment of his entire life.

"Thank you," you whispered.

"For what?"

"For being patient with me. For making this place. For letting me be quiet without making me feel bad about it."

"You don't have to thank me for basic decency."

"It's not basic. Most people don't get it. But you do." You pulled back slightly to look at him. "I really like you, Jason."

"I really like you too."

"Even though I'm awkward and weird and can barely handle social situations?"

"Especially because of that. You're genuine. You're kind. You're exactly yourself, unapologetically." He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "That's not weird. That's brave."

"I don't feel brave."

"You leave your house twice a week despite anxiety. You talk to me even though talking is hard. You exist in a world that's not built for quiet people and you do it anyway. That's brave."

Your eyes were shining. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

You kissed him, soft and careful, and Jason thought that this—this quiet moment in a bookstore in Crime Alley with the most introverted person he'd ever met—was worth everything.

When you pulled back, you were smiling. "I've wanted to do that for weeks."

"Me too. I just didn't know if you... if I..."

"We're both disasters at this, aren't we?"

"Completely."

"Good. I prefer it that way." You settled back into your chair, pulling your book into your lap. "Can we just... keep sitting here? Reading?"

"For as long as you want."

"Forever might be too long."

"Forever sounds perfect."

Six Months Later

You'd moved some of your books into the store's back room.

It had happened gradually. You'd leave one book, then two, then a whole shelf's worth. Eventually, you'd brought a blanket, a mug that lived in the kitchen, slippers that stayed by Jason's reading chair.

You hadn't officially moved in. You still had your apartment. But you were there more often than not, existing in Jason's space like you'd always belonged there.

"I need to tell you something," Jason said one evening.

You looked up from your book. "Okay."

"It's... big. And you might hate me for not telling you sooner."

"I won't hate you."

"You might."

"Jason." You set down your book. "Whatever it is, just tell me."

"I'm Red Hood."

You blinked. "I know."

"You—what?"

"I've known for a while. A couple months, maybe?"

"How?"

"You have the same voice. Same mannerisms. Same way of moving." You smiled. "Plus, you're both obsessed with protecting Crime Alley, and the timing of when you 'step out' always matches Red Hood sightings."

"And you're not... scared? Upset?"

"Why would I be scared? You're you. The suit doesn't change that." You stood up, crossing to him. "And I'm not upset you didn't tell me. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready."

"You're amazing."

"I'm patient. There's a difference."

Jason pulled you into his lap, and you settled there like you belonged. "I love you. I should have said it weeks ago, but I was scared—"

"I love you too." You kissed him softly. "I have for a while."

"Even though I'm a vigilante?"

"Even though. Especially though." You rested your forehead against his. "You protect people like me. People who can't protect themselves. How could I not love that?"

"People like you are the reason I do this."

"That's really romantic."

"I have my moments."

You kissed him again, and Jason thought about how far you'd both come. The quiet reader who could barely speak above a whisper. The bookstore owner with a violent alter ego.

You'd built something together in the quiet spaces. Something real and gentle and perfect.

"Hey," you said.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for making the world a little quieter. A little safer. For people like me."

"Thank you for existing exactly as you are."

"Even when I'm too quiet?"

"Especially when you're quiet. The world needs more quiet people. More gentle people. More people like you."

You smiled, settling against his chest. "Read to me?"

"What do you want to hear?"

"Anything. I just like your voice."

So Jason read to you, and you listened, and outside Crime Alley went about its noisy, chaotic business.

But inside the bookstore, there was peace.

There was safety.

There was love.

Quiet and gentle and perfect.

You eventually did move in officially, though it was hard to tell when it happened since you'd been gradually taking over Jason's space for months.

Mr. Darcy the cat also moved in and immediately claimed Jason's favorite chair.

You still came to the bookstore every Tuesday and Thursday, even though you lived there now. Some routines were too important to break.

Jason proposed with a first edition of your favorite book and a handwritten note inside that said: "You make the world quieter. Marry me?"

You said yes by nodding, too emotional to speak.

The wedding was small. Just Roy, Jason's family, and a handful of close friends. You barely spoke during the reception, but you smiled the entire time.

Your vows were three sentences long, spoken so quietly Jason had to lean in to hear them:

"You make me feel safe. You make me feel understood. You make me feel loved."

Jason's vows were longer, but they boiled down to the same thing:

"You taught me that quiet is powerful. That gentle is strong. That love doesn't have to be loud to be real."

And it was real.

So, so real.

Bruce Wayne:

For the upper echalion, Burce Wayne’s galas are the height of the season.

For you, it's a bit dull four hours in.

You danced until your feet hurt.

You don’t really want to drink as tonight is one of Bruce’s designated ‘Brucie Wayne’ nights.

So you make small talk, wonder around, and ponder if going to the bathroom again would look weird, just for something to do.

A crash is sounded over where your husband is ‘supposed’ to be and you can feel the blossoming of Alfred's headache across the manor.

You laugh lightly at the women you are with saying something about, “My circus my monkey.” before walking into the frey.

“Darling! Perfect timing.”

Dear lord, why did you get up?

In front of you a supposedly drunk Bruce Wayne is attempting to climb onto the chandelier. 

After about a moment of thought you shrug and begin to assist your husband onto the chandelier.

Tabloids, Alfred, and personal dignity be damned, you were bored.

And whatever happens it will be a lot more interesting then yelling at him

So up he goes, much to the enjoyment of your husband and the surrounding bourgeoisies.

The chandelier swings back and fourth, with your husband laying upside down from it.

If this ever gets back to Dick, he's going to be pissed.

Bruce actively achieved the thing he always wanted to do as a small child in front of the elite of Gotham.

“Come on Bruce! Add some more weight!” A drunk man responds.

In a move much too fluid for a drunk man, Bruce picks you up to the whoops of the crowd.

“You’re a dumbass.”

Bruce shrugs, “It was a slow night.”

“You’re going to drop me. How did you even manage-?”

The kiss was sudden and everything youd been missing this evening.

After finally getting the chandelier to stop, Bruce puts you down and follows you to the door only to stop once and slide the drunk man from earlier 50 bucks.

“Bruce!”

He laughs. The real one for just a second, “You looked like you were watching paint dry. It was killing me, so I decided to spruce it up a bit.”

Clark Kent

“And no X-Ray vision!” You ramble as you steer Clark towards the corner of his farm home.

He huffs, “It wounds me that you think I would cheat.”

You hum, “Of course. Thats totally not what happened last time.”

“You never said I couldn’t listen for you.”Clark quips.

“I said you could listen, not track my heartbeat!”

“I do that all the time. It’s hard to turn off.”

“Aww-” you smile at him before turning him to face the corner of the wall, “Now count to 120, and no cheating, fly boy.”

“Yes Ma’am” Clark replies, “1, 2, 3, 4, -”

Hide and seek has become a beloved tradition in your relationship.

Clark uses it as a training exercise while you just think its a fun activity to kill some time.

Over the course of your relationship, its gotten significantly hard to avoid Clark.

But this time you've got a plan.

Pa Kent told you about an old hayloft that they haven’t used in over a decade.

Its perfect, far away and surrounded to try and hide your heartbeat within the cows, high up so Clark would have to look around, and covered in hay so you have a built in camouflage.

Willing to risk, life, limb, and you allergies: you climb into the loft and prepare for alot of ‘mooing’ from the cattle in the matching fence.

You don’t hear anything for a very long time. 

Almost thinking you got away with it until you hear him whistle as he walks through the cows.

True to form the reason it took so long is that he saw the cows trough was empty and decided to fill it to make it easier on Pa Kent.

The sound of the cow feed hits the metal trough with many dull thuds.

“I gotta say, sweetheart, you almost had me this time. But one thing you should know is that Pa cannot keep secrets.”

Clarks boots stop just under the hay loft.

“He ratted me out?”

Clark laughs, “Not on purpose, he was afraid you'd get stuck.”

“Ye of little faith.” You pop up from your spot covered in hay and dust and a bit of bitterness.

“Ma gave him what for, for ‘ruining our fun’” Clark laughs.

You move to sit on the edge of the loft before deciding to swing upside down to meet him halfway.

Now face to face with him you lose yourself in the crystal blue of his eyes before quickly shaking yourself out of it, “I knew I always liked her.”

He smiles back at you, “Do I get my rewards now?”

You nod, “I suppose. Even though you cheated… again-”

Clark cuts you off by pulling you in.

The fake anger on your face melts off the moment your lips meet.

He pulls away just barely and lightly wipes your lip.

You kiss his forehead.

“I love you,” he whispers.

You smile and run your hand through his hair, “I love you too… for a cheater.”

“I didn’t cheat!”

“Tell that to Ma.”

Dick Grayson

“You are the only man I know who wants to hang out at a playground for fun.” You laugh as you're being excitedly dragged to the neighbor park.

“It is gorgeous today, and a playground is basically an outside gym.” Dick responds, refusing to dull his enthusiasm.

You are pulled past a group of small children, “I think that nine year old would disagree.”

He scoffs, “Who are you today? The fun police.”

He stops and places his hands on your shoulders and moves you one step to the left leaving you standing right next to the monkey bars.

“No,” You reply, “Just vaguely concerned about your thought process.”

Dick swings up the monkey bars with ease, “This is genius.”

As if timed by the gods a soccer ball rolls up to your foot.

“Ma’am! Can you throw it back?” A small child asks from across the field.

You grab it and toss it in their direction.

“I bet they think your a genius too, sir” You laugh.

You watch Dick do pull ups.

One

Two 

Three

Four-

Okay, you're bored.

You pull yourself to the top of the bars and sit across from him.

“Legitamently, is there a reason you wanted me to come along?”

Dick continues his work out but flashes you a mock offended face, “It would be weird for an adult without a child to come to the park alone-”

“HA!”

“-AND don’t pretend I had to drag you here. I catch you watching me work out at home all the time-”

“HEY”

Dick laughs, “Sticking to one syllable words now?”

“I’ve got a few more for you, Fu-”

“My dear! Trying to swear at a playground.” He huffs pulling himself into a handstand above the monkey bars facing you, “Think of the children.”

The soccer ball comes flying back somehow landing perfectly in the gap between the bars between you too.

“SORRY MAAM.”

A different child runs towards you, “Are you going to kiss?”

Both you and Dick turn to face the small child and reply together, “No?”

“Oh” the kid huffs then yells back, “I told you they weren’t dating!”

You scoff and turn to laugh with your boyfriend at the out of pocket comment when (still in a headstand) he moves forward one rung, then another in your direction.

You lean back, “What are you doing?”

He looks at you like you just asked why the sky was blue, “trying to kiss you”

“Are you threatened by a group of children?”

Dick rolls his eyes, “Shut up and kiss me, asshole I'm getting lightheaded”

“Some world class acrobat huh-”

He kisses you fast, cutting off your quip.

In the distance the kids cheer, “I told you so!”

Jason Todd

*Thunk*

*Stomp Stomp*

Jason’s Back!

“Doll! how many times do I have to warn ya. You gotta lock the windows at night.”

You lean in the doorway of the living room and watch as he tosses his jacket onto the coat rack.

“Jay, you always come in that window. I doubt anyone else is going to climb up 6 flights to break in through that” you point to the middle window “window. It basically has your name on it.”

Jaso walks back to the window and closes the lock with a thwack, “This is gotham. I’ve seen robbers scale much higher buildings.”

You laugh, “Those ‘higher buildings’have alot more expensive stuff than your Jane Austen collection and my assortment of various trinkets and collectables.”

Jason shakes his head fervently, “No they don’t”

A huff bubbles up from your throat, “Does your book collection cost more than I thought-”

“This apartment has you in it.” He says.

His tone is steady.

There's no doubt or humor in his wording.

If anything he's offended at your flippant response.

“You are the most valuable thing in Gotham. So… I need you to lock the window.”

You blink.

The smile slips from your face.

"Jason..."

He looks genuinely confused.

"What?"

As if he hadn't just said something that made your heart stop.

A sigh, you glance over at the window you shrug in resignation, “I’ll try, but if you lock yourself out-”

“I can get in, doll.”

A Week Passes

Jason did lock himself out and almost broke the window lock in the process.

So, back open it goes. 

Much to Jason’s chagrin.

He asks you to close it

You explain the almost broken lock.

So… Jason comes up with a plan.

He didn’t want to scare you too badly, just enough to let you see what he was thinking about the safety of the apartment.

*Thunk*

*Thunk*

That damn woodpacker.

It's been hounding the window all night.

You walk over to the window to show it away and before you can register it.

A body in a black mask tries to swing his way into the apartment.

Moving on reflexes alone. You push with all your might and swing him back hard enough that he loses his hand hold.

You grab the bat Jason leaves against the window frame and wind back-

“WAIT”

Jason takes off the ski mask.

Almost deciding to follow through anyway you scream, “YOU SON OF A BITCH”

Jason’s uncontrollable laughter starts and you swear you almost wind the bat again.

But rather than making your boyfriend you go to slam the window shut.

“Doll! Hey whatcha doin!”

So, you lock the window.

Fully expecting him to make it in after a while.

But he doesn’t

He just kinda swings there.

You decide to check on him after about 15 minutes.

The window opens with little force, “You done?” 

“I was just waiting for… a lead” He grumbles.

You look up and realize the problem.

After pushing him, his foot got stuck in the fire escape.

You begin to hysterically laugh in return

Jason nods, “Yes, yes, I’m an ass. Can you help me down? I’m starting to feel like shit”

You laugh one more time before saying, “One sec,”

Pulling him by his black turtleneck, you swing him into a kiss.

You pull away after a second with a sigh, “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Eventually, you get him down (much to your older upstairs neighbors' annoyance).

After that, you leave the lock on and Jason promises to never prank you again.

Tim Drake

“I don’t think Bruce made that to be used that way!” You yell.

You’ve walked into many different situations in the batcave.

But your boyfriend strapped to a table upside down while working on the back of the batcomputer is something new.

Tim shrugs before verbalizing, “If it works it works.”

The steps you take further into the batcave are slightly wet with each step as you grow closer to your boyfriend, “You look like a superspy who is about to be threatened with a laser.”

Tim laughs as he continues to work on the machine in front of him, “I’ll never tell you where she is! I’d rather die.”

You stand just below him and replay in a terrible attempt at a villainous accent, “Be ready to die then, Timothy Drake.”

In the midst of your banter, Tim drops the wrench he is using.

It clatters on the ground with an ear shattering ring. 

“You know…” Tim says looking dejectedly at the fallen wrench.

His hair sticking up from his upside down position.

“I’m beginning to think this isn’t the best way to accomplish this.”

“Hmm” You hum as you grab the wrench and hand it back to him, “You think?”

As you attempt to hand him the wrench he playfully grabs your wrist and pulls you up with him towards the top of the cave.

“On the brightside-” He says, ignoring your yelp of fear as you shoot up towards the stalactites on the roof of the cave, “I’ve been wanting to show you this.”

Through a hole at the top of the cave leaves a small ravine with bioluminescent algae lighting up what should be an entirely dark spot with a faint green glow that reflects of the rock walls and the water it grows in.

“It’s gorgeous” You say pulling yourself free from the table.

Tim nods.

“How did you find it?”

Tim shrugged, “Got bored.”

“Can you get off of there so I can kiss you please,” You turn watching your boyfriend relax in his upturned position.

Tim laughs, “Why can’t that be accomplished when I'm like this?”

Tim grabs your arm and pulls you towards him.

“Becuase it weird and I’m worried your going to black out”

He scoffs, “Please, I’ve done handstands longer than this.”

You yield, allowing yourself to be pulled in.

The kiss is only known by you and the light of the cave.

Damian Wayne (Aged-up):

Damian’s premed lectures are long.

Like four/five hours long.

But you walk to dinner on Thursdays.

So you wait and wait… and wait

While you wait, your mind twists and turns as you look at the large blooming crab apple tree sitting in your school oval.

Climbing that would be ridiculous.

But the time moves slowly and eventually you yield.

Climbing up was easy, climbing down?

Not so much.

Luckily, it was comfortable and you had alot of time to kill.

If Damian finds you stuck in a tree you will never hear the end of it.

This thought doesn’t arrive in your mind until about three minutes until his lecture lets out.

You make it down about half way when you hear, “Ya qalbi”

Oh no… think fast

“Beloved?”

Damian appears below your tree and you feel a push on the back of your foot.

It swings you almost in a full circle before you become face to face with your boyfriend…

Kind of.

You laugh at the unimpressed look on your rightside up boyfriends face, “Huh, fancy seeing you here.”

Damian’s eyes shoot up towards the obvious trail you made in the tree marked by broken branches and the scratches up and down your arm.

“Was this really pertinent?” He asks.

“Of course, I… wanted to feel like a fruit bat.” You smile, “They sleep upside down you know.”

‘Hmm.” He hums, “I don’t believe I’ve ever interacted with a bat with so many sticks in its hair.”

Damian grabs a loose flower that somehow got stuck in your hair on your journey.

He then moves onto a twig.

He slowly unwraps the knot around the stick before gently pulling it out.

You grab the flower adorned stick and delicately place it behind his ear.

You lean forward for a kiss when Damian pulls away, “You are going to fall.”

You roll your eyes and kiss him anyway.

“You would catch me.” You say after as he attempts to remove you from the tree.