freak on a leash

Being stranded on the side of the highway in Gotham city in the middle of the night could be one of the worst scenarios anyone could possibly imagine, a million different things that could happen but you didn’t really have a choice. Your beloved car, one that restored from literally barebones, broke down on you, engine sputtering and dying on you, thankfully you were able to pull off to the side of the highway before it gave out completely.

You called someone you knew, a mechanic that helped you through the restoration but she wouldn’t be here for an half hour at least, and you couldn’t leave your baby here by herself, in this city? Goodness not! So here you were, waiting beside here patiently as the street lap above you flickered every few minutes, watching as cars pass by, hoping your friend will pop out of one of them.

Then a bike slowed down, enough to just pass by, pulling in right in front of your car. You almost think you’ve gone crazy, the way the leather jacket stretched over the man’s back, helmet a dark enough red that it looked black until he steps into the light, it too much like him.

“I have a gun.” You warn as he turns to face you. Black shirt under the jacket as he holds his hands up defensively, taking a few more steps to stand right under the light, slowly moving his hands to grab his helmet, there’s a click of a advance mechanism that you’re all too familiar with and then, the light graces his face.

Jason’s aged, not much but, of course, it’s been far too many years since you’d seen him. And if not for his unique white hair strip, the scars the dig deep into his cheek are far too recognisable, the ‘J’ accompanied by newer shallower ones he’d accumulated in his time away from you.

He watches you back as you profile him, your face, your posture, the way you carried yourself has changed. Life had obviously had taken its toll on you, you’d matured in the way your face was set, a blossom of pride in his chest as you follow what he’d thought you years ago, with the gun and it’s probably the same one he gave you.

“Just me, sweetheart.”

Jason’s voice goes down like a glass of whiskey, deep and smooth but burns all too close to your heart. He tilts his head to the side, gauging your reaction, mistaking your surprise for caution. You avert your eyes, looking back at your car, hand moving off the gun to smooth down a nonexistent wrinkle on your jacket.

You nod, one quick dip of your chin, allowing him to come closer to you, gentleman as always. You watch as he walks back a moment to drop his helmet back onto the bike as you survey your surroundings again, looking for watchful eyes or jittery bodies.

It’s been a long time, a little longer than half a decade, even in a city as small as Gotham, it was easy not running into him, especially when he avoided you religiously. Sometimes, when you felt a conspiracist, you could swear you saw a certain vigilante with a taste for the color red in your proximity, following you like a guardian angel in the night.

The time you had with Jason was phenomenal, the best of the best. No matter how broken he was, or you were, the two of you worked. Even when secrets came out, you were with him, a stubborn stick in the ground that didn’t budge in the toughest storm, you stayed with him. But his mind got to him, when the dangers got too apparent, when he realised the way his identity could hurt the one good thing in his life, he broke things off, no matter how you tried to make him understand.

After that, the city went back to being its same glum self. The streets were back to feeling grim and lifeless, bookstores lacked luster that he brought. He’ll always be the one that got away, the one you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with.

He avoided you with all his might, did everything not to associate himself with you. But he always lingered. Flowers that appeared out of thin air on days he knew were too tough for you. Gifts on every birthday that sit on the windowsill as a constant reminder, special edition of your favourite books being shipped from an ‘anonymous’ benefactor.

“Why are you standing here? It’s not safe.”

His voice snaps you out of your head, your eyes flying back to him who’s walking to you in slow steps, like he’s trying not to spook you. It’s not long before he’s standing in front of you, unintentionally imposing presence that made your chest tight with emotion.

“Not leaving my car by herself.” You whisper finally, Head craning up to look at him. The light was hitting him in a way that deepened his scars, but his eyes twinkled all that same, just the way they used to years ago “Stubborn as always.” He mutters under his breath as he shakes his head in disapproval. He looks down at your car, the one you’re standing guard for, jutting his chin in its direction. “What’s wrong?”

“The coolant system broke, it’s leaking.”

You cross your arms around your chest like it’ll shield you from the extended heartbreak you’re going to experience from this interaction. You watch as you walks past you, close enough that his jacket brushes yours, and to your car. He moves quickly, popping the hood of your car, leaning down to look into the contents of your engine.

You watch his shoulder move as he works, the jacket spreading across his back does nothing to hide the muscular frame underneath. He’d finally grown into his body, moving with more grace than you remember. It somehow felt like he was taller, or maybe your mind was exaggerating your vision, biceps and thighs definitely larger than you remember, consistent with what you’d expect for Red Hood.

You watch as Jason comes to the same conclusion, just nodding his head in agreement.

“Someone I know is coming to help me out.” You call out to break the silence, the sound of a vehicle crashing somewhere in the distance echos as he looks back at you. You watch as he, not so subtly, glances down at both your hands, obviously noting the lack of a wedding ring. Which is odd, since he probably already knows that you aren’t in a relationship, haven’t been in a solid once since him.

“Take my bike back home, I’ll wait here for him.”

You scoff, loudly and dramatically. If there was one thing about Jason, it’s that no one gets to touch that bike of his. It’s tuned to his exact specs, something he doesn’t think anyone else is capable of driving. But now, after all these years of avoiding you, breaking your heart, he’s offering for you to drive off in his bike?

“Her.” You correct. “And why aren’t you…” You pause for a moment to conjure the right word. The moon gleaming weakly through the dark clouds above is a sign that the vigilantes are going to come crawling out of their caves, literally. So why wasn’t Red Hood out terrorising bad guys. “Working?”

“I was riding down to Bludhaven to help Dick with something.” His reply is smooth, ever patient as he straightens up, closing the hood of your car but still lingering around it, mimicking your stance as he crosses his arms too, looking like a stand off to any bystander.“Convenient.” You comment.

There’s a deep sigh in your chest at the subsequent silence. What exactly are you two supposed to talk about? “Fuck it.” You mutter as you uncross your hands and dive into your jacket pocket, pulling out a cigarette packet and…shit. The only lighter you have is the one you got as a couples set when the two of you were still together, you thought it was an amazing gift, two lighters that match up when next to each other to depict both sides of wings engraved on them.

You make a split second decision to pull it out anyway, not missing the slight change in Jason’s posture, the way his eyes widen slightly, shoulders getting just a tab bit more rigid. Your finger runs over your name engraved on its bottom before you flip it open, bringing it to your mouth to light to cigarette nested between your lips.

Jason was a smoker, had been for a long time, and years ago, you weren’t. You had just thought that the lighters was a nice thing to have even though you didn’t smoke. But after the break up, you found one of Jason’s packs lying around your place and you had an itch, you lit one, maybe to feel closer to him somehow, but it soon became a proper habit, like for most people in Gotham.

“Those things will kill you.” Jason quips up, something you used to tease him with. you hold the cigarette between your pointer and middle finger, pulling it away to blow smoke into the night sky. Your eyebrows scrunch involuntarily, the words leaving your mouth before you can think twice about them. “So does flinging yourself at villains.”

“It did.” Jason jokes as the tip of his lips twitches, his eyes cast down to the pavement, expression as something you couldn’t quite decipher. He looks back up to watch utter horror pass on your features, a soft gasp when you realise what you said. “Shit—I didn’t meant to.” You say too quickly, genuinely apologetic.

“‘S alright.” Jason shakes his head softly, he knows you’d never make light of his previous death, something it too a long time for him to open up to you about. You open your mouth to apologise again, but he dismisses it with another shake of his head.

The same silence from before settles again, now you can’t even look him in the eyes. You’re smoking the same brand that he used to, the same one he had to change out of because it reminded him of you too much. His half of the lighter pair sits comfortably in the drawer next to his bed, something he doesn’t carry around for the risk of losing or damaging it, something he takes out to reminisce, give him a moment to relive how it was before he fucked it all up.

“How’s…Artemis?”

You utter out impulsively, regretting it immediately. Artemis was Jason’s ex, before the two of you dated, and there were always rumours that Red Hood had gotten with her again over the years. However ‘healed’ you were, you never could resist looking up the tabloids. And for fucks sake, why on earth are you asking him that?

The question catches him off guard too, you were never insecure in your relationship all those years ago and you knew Artemis was just a friend, a coworker, whatever label you want to slap on it, but just that. After you…he could never even consider someone else. It takes him a moment to get his gears, side of his lips now threatening to stretch into a smirk.

“Just be direct, c’mon. Ask me if I’m single.” Jason clocks his head to one side, a twinkle lit behind his eyes.

Just as you were about to roll your eyes, a familiar car approaching steals your attention as you wave to your friend. Jason watches as you walk past him as the car pulls up right behind yours, a smile stretching across your face in greeting that he didn’t get. Jason turns, slow steps back to his bike, just hoping you’d stop him…ask him to…stay?

“Who’s that?” Your friend asks as she gets out of her car, eyeing the man she’s never seen before as he walks back to his bike. You look back at him, watching his figure receding into the darkness, not looking back. You take another drag of the cigarette, blowing out the smoke and taking a moment to soak in the interaction before you answer.

“Someone I used to know.”

ᯓ★'s P.S. notice how the first half of this is better? yeah i wrote that aaaages ago, i did my dialogue thing and forgot about this and now filled in the rest so i apologise if the flow of it is missing and its not that great

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← ゛masterlist ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆

"What is it, babe?" You moved back slightly when you felt him halt his movements.

"I'm really sorry to interrupt our..." He paused to clear his throat and subtly look between you two. "Generally speaking, our clothes are not made out of metal, right?" He finished his sentence, eyes squinting at your shirt as if trying to make something out.

"Yeah? Although, if its fast fashion we're talking about, I'm not entirely surprised if they add mercury into our clothes," You joked, looking down briefly to your shirt to see if there was anything out of place.

"Why the question? One of your conspiracy theories?" You chuckled at your boyfriend's sudden interest at the topic in hand. Eager to resume your earlier actions, you placed your hands onto his broad chest — fingers lightly playing with the front of his dress shirt.

"It's not a conspiracy when its true," He replied, nose flaring. Before you could react, his fingers found the hem of your shirt. You let out a startled yelp when he swiftly removed them.

"What the— Why'd you take my shirt?" You frowned, hugging your upper body out of instinct when the cool air met your skin. "And where are you going, mister?"

There was a fleeting silence as Clark disappeared into your shared room. You huffed, confused why your boyfriend was acting oddly all of a sudden. Not long later, a faint rustling could be heard — resulting your eyebrow to shoot up. A sigh left you before you joined your boyfriend and headed to the room.

"Sorry, baby. Need to check on something," He murmured in reply while taking out one of your much older clothes from the wardrobe.

"So...?" A hand went to your hips as you patiently waited for his answer, standing just a few feet away from him.

"You need to stop buying from whichever shop these clothes come from," He firmly said, glancing up briefly before removing all new clothes you bought recently out of the wardrobe.

"Okay, you're starting to freak me out. Talk to me," You walked over to softly massage his shoulders while he was still kneeled on the floor.

"I am sure you are aware of my impeccable eyesight " He started off, earning an amused snort from you.

"Okay and...?"

"What I'm trying to say is that, the only reason why my X-ray vision didn't work while I-" He cleared his throat, catching himself before accidentally exposing himself. "It's not working as well after seeing your clothes which could only mean one thing."

You mouth went ajar when the pieces of the puzzle finally fit. Your flicked your finger onto his forehead when you caught on to what he initially used his powers for.

"First of all, that's very perverted of you." You stated with a playful scowl. "Secondly, you could propose the idea to your editor. Go deep dive and expose the industry!"

"I- Wow- Did not expect that coming out of you," He chuckled, lips now curled upwards as he gently rubbed his forehead to soothe the spot you just flicked.

"Oh honeyyy..." You drawl out the term of endearment used. "Have I never told you how much my friends and I would literally get side track on our conversation and do an extensive search on a random niche topic that piqued our interest?"

And that was how the pair of you ended up spending the rest of the night — cozy in bed while researching whether there were actual reported cases of lead found in clothing.

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