but you were going out for dinner with steph and cass which meant no good to begin with, and paired it with the ‘endless mimosas’ the restaurant you were going to was offering, jason was preparing himself for the worst outcome possible. he was not looking forward to bailing you out of jail, again.

an hour into the evening and he was already bored to death. no movie or TV show was fulfilling the hole in his heart that formed when you left him behind. he was being dramatic, but god did he miss you already. and if the night couldn’t get any worse, he had to climb through the window.

"aren’t you supposed to be out on patrol?" jason mumbled without sparing him a glance, voice so void of emotions.

"damn, what got you sulking this bad?"

but jason could only grunt in response as he continued to watch ahead at the stupid reality show playing on the TV that was providing him the tiniest bit of entertainment.

"where is she?" asked damian, settling inside the apartment and closing the window behind. he looked around, trying to find anything that could hint to jason’s visible despair, but your shoes were by the door, your pictures were still on the fridge, and your perfume lingered.

"out."

"oh," he said. he couldn’t lie that he was disappointed, after all he came to see you, not his idiot brother. he didn’t want to go back out there, the night was looking boring and bruce could easily handle himself. if not... well, he was grown enough to.

damian wanted to know more, especially why you were out so late without your boyfriend because everyone knew that you had jason wrapped around your finger so much he’d go everywhere—really, everywhere—with you. it wasn’t unusual for you to run errands alone or hang out with your friends by yourself, but at least it explained why jason looked… like that.

jason made space for him on the couch, silently inviting him to stay. "don’t sit with that on,2 he nodded to his costume. "she washed your clothes from last time, they’re in your room."

it wasn’t really damian’s room. it was more like a spare room that you used half as storage half as your studio, which then turned into a makeshift bedroom for damian whenever he wanted to stay over for the night.

jason was quick to animatedly agree when you proposed to go bed shopping for his brother because ever since damian, like the little shit that he was, accidentally and casually fell asleep at your apartment more often than not, jason had been sleeping on the couch. a hard and uncomfortable second-hand couch you picked up from the side of the street.

it was only fair. you couldn’t let the kid sleep on the couch, the poor boy needed a healthy night of sleep so instead he spent the nights in your bed, while jason laid asleep on the couch with the most visible frown on his face, a frown that lingered even when you’d wake him up the next morning for breakfast. it was fine, jason reassured himself, he didn’t care if you teased him, he got to hear your giggles first thing in the morning.

damian dragged his feet to his room and changed out of his robin costume before walking back to the living room. he sat on the couch, on the opposite end from jason, and stared ahead at the TV waiting patiently for your return. 

the apartment was quiet apart from the sound coming from the TV, not a single word was uttered from either of them since.

damian tried, he really did, to enjoy whatever jason put on the TV but it was the most idiotic thing he had ever seen and truly couldn’t stand hearing another second of it.

"how can you enjoy this idiocy," he complained, getting up from the couch. "can’t believe she’s still with someone wh–"

his words stopped as a pillow hit the back of his head. he didn’t turn around to give jason a nasty look, he didn’t have the energy for it, all he wanted was for you to come home soon so he could spend some time with his favorite person. but he would never admit that. so instead he continued to his room and closed the door behind, isolating himself.

he was right, it was some absurd show that only aired at night because nobody would voluntarily watch something like this, he wasn’t really paying attention to the program in front of him before, but a minute later jason sighed and turned the TV off. time seemed to pass ever so slowly in his eyes. an hour and thirty minutes, that’s how much has passed. he had already texted you to see how the night was going but when no response came after five minutes, he had to add a ‘please don’t be in trouble’. and then you didn’t answer again and he prayed you were okay because the last thing he wanted was to sound like a desperate man.

he might have fallen asleep at some point because his mind was groggy and confused as he blinked his eyes open from the noise you were making. finally, he thought. 

you were fighting with the strap of your heels by the door, growing impatient by the second as it wouldn’t want to come undone, though you could easily blame that on your slightly inebriated current state. jason couldn’t take his eyes off of you, you looked so beautiful with a pout on your lips before meeting his gaze and switching it with a smirk, happily hurrying towards him. 

"hi baby," you whispered, sitting down next to him and cupping his face between your hands. "oh, you’re so warm."

you didn’t leave him time to greet you back or say anything else that you were already peppering his face with kisses, not a single one landing on his lips. every time he angled his face so he could feel his lips on yours, even just one small, quick peck, you simply had other plans. "wait–mmph–baby." there, at last.

"you’re so pretty jay," you said giggling. "my pretty boy."

jason was blushing now, hard. he loved when you got like this, always so eager to show him how much you loved him even though it always got his whole body blushing like a teenager who just got his first girlfriend. he was glad now the only light in the room was dim enough to not let you see his ears growing red by the second and his pink cheeks, because if you could see how gone he was you wouldn’t have stopped teasing him. 

you were so lost in admiring his face that when jason tapped your thigh and nodded behind you, you pouted out of confusion. what was so important for him to stop your affection?

so you turned around in the direction his gaze brought you to, and a gasp left your lips, immediately jumping off the couch, arms open wide. "oh my baby, come here."

damian stood confused and half-asleep by the corridor, rubbing his eye trying to process what was all the noise about, but then he felt a body crash into his, startling him even more. he instinctively tried to pull away, never keen to accept affections from strangers. 

"wha–" his words died on his tongue as a kiss landed on his forehead. he blinked rapidly, stunned by the sudden gesture. you pulled away slightly, giving him enough time to realize that it was just you, with a lopsided smile, smudged lipstick, and a lovesick look in your eyes that would have made damian roll his eyes with disgust if it came from anyone else. 

"i love you so much, dami," you cooed. you pulled him back in your arms, mumbling some nonsense about how cute he looked and how squishy his cheeks were, to the point where you couldn’t help but swing him left and right in your arms.

meanwhile, behind you, jason was sneering from his spot on the couch, ready to tease his brother for the red tips of his ears and his face covered in your sheer kiss prints. and unbeknownst to him, the same smirk damian was sporting was a mirror of his own, as Jason was covered too and blushing like an idiot.

It didn’t matter how many times he reminded you not to wait for him to return from patrol, you always tried to stay awake. I can’t sleep without you next to me, you had said, the bed’s too cold. And part of it was true. Ever since he moved in, you had gotten used to the dip in the mattress next to you, the warmth radiating off his body as he laid sprawled and hogged all the blankets. It was like your body only managed to relax if he was next to you.

Jason loved it, of course, being someone who could bring you comfort, being some sort of anchor for you. He would look forward to coming home and falling asleep next to you, so much so that if he could have, he wouldn’t even leave you for patrol to begin with. But the city called, and he had to do something about it—get rid of the scum of the streets to keep Gotham safe, to keep you safe.

Slowly, he closed the window and drew the blinds, just in time before the sirens in the distance rang and threatened to wake you up, though their sound was now so familiar it almost lulled you both to sleep on most nights. 

As quietly as his heavy boots allowed him to, he walked towards the bathroom but he paused again when he reached the door as he heard you shuffling in your sleep. He peeked over his shoulder to find you still sound asleep, just now shifted in a starfish position.

With a soft smile on his lips, Jason let the door click behind him as he rested against it, taking a deep breath in, helmet still on his head. His whole body was aching and started to visibly bruise already, some cuts and scratches definitely needed more attention than usual.

Groaning from the pain, he rid of his leather jacket and tugged his kevlar armor off his body, dropping both somewhere haphazardly in the corner of the bathroom floor. He rolled his shoulders and tilted his neck, wincing a little at the stiffness that settled in.

He let his eyes wander over his body under the dim bathroom light, fingers grazing over the purple splotches darkening over the skin on his ribs and the multiple bleeding cuts that stupid idiot inflicted him. He got lucky they weren’t deep enough to need stitches.

"Jay?" your voice came soft from the small gap you opened the door to. The light caused you to frown and squeeze your eyes shut before adjusting them open again.

Jason didn’t answer you, he simply stood there, half his gear still on and his red hood helmet resting by the sink and facing away from him. It took a while for you to take him in whole—the soft light washed over his hair damp with sweat, streaks of fresh and dried blood on his torso. And if you looked closely, you could see the white in his knuckles as he tried to stop his arms from trembling in frustration. He avoided your eyes like the plague, staring right at where his hands gripped at the counter’s edges, hoping that the guilt burning in his heart would disappear.

"Sorry," he whispered, voice rough at the edges. "Didn’t mean to wake you up."

You shook your head at his apology, knowing very well that no matter how quiet or loud he was, your body was always alert for his return and like clockwork, though half-sleeping, you would wake up. 

Ever since he confided in you of his nightly affairs, you grew accustomed to his atypical entrances, especially after the countless scares he gave you when you still lived alone in your apartment.

He never hid from you that he found it amusing whenever you would gasp and toss in his arms as he settled under your blankets after a night of patrol, chuckling in your neck some half-assed apologies. "I’m desensitizing you," he had said, which only made you roll your eyes. But it worked, at least a little bit.

Familiar or not, you couldn’t help staying alert because you worried every single time that one night he would need help, actual help, and his own cleaning and patching up wasn't enough. What if he came home after getting shot, what if he got hit too hard and was internally bleeding and didn’t know? What if it was the last time he’d come through your window? 

You moved towards him, slowly, giving him room to push you away if he needed to, because sometimes all he wanted was to be alone and you understood that. But he didn’t move, he stood there trying to hold himself together by the sheer force of will that remained.

"Hey," you murmured. Your hand gently cupped his jaw to coax his head up. "Look at me."

Jason shut his eyes tightly, leaning into your touch before, reluctantly, lifting his eyes to meet yours. And in that moment, you had to draw all the strength you had in your body to not break down with him.

His green eyes were wide, wounded and glassy, holding back the tears that have been threatening to spill for a while now. He didn’t look like your Jason, broody and grumpy and smart-mouthed. He looked young, the little kid who was left to fend for himself on the streets young. The same kid who was the magical boy wonder once, was again filled with the same sorrow and grief that consumed him, all that anger, all that resentment, all that fear, too.

"Do you wanna–"

"No. I– not tonight," he shook his head and whispered, his breath stuttering as his words stuck in his throat. His jaw clenched and darted his gaze to the ground again. "I’m sorry."

Your heart tightened in your chest, but you didn’t push any further, though you couldn’t bear seeing him so broken, so helpless. You stepped closer until you were in his space, cupping his face in your hands and turning his head until it was in your direction again. A small tear ran down his cheek and you were quick to wipe it away with your thumb.

"Come here," you cooed, hand cradling his head to bring him closer, while your other rubbed up and down his back. He let his head drop onto your shoulder as his arms wrapped around your middle, fingers gripping tightly at your shirt. "I got you, Jay."

You didn’t know how long you stood there holding him in your arms, but now his breathing had slowed and no more of his tears were dampening the exposed skin of your shoulder.

Goosebumps rose on his skin as your fingertips grazed over the healed scars on his back. Some were newer than others—raw and skin constantly breaking with Jason’s muscles flexing, others sunken and white, deeper cuts you remembered stitching to the best of your abilities. All engraved in his skin just as they were in your memory. 

You could tell he was getting cold, the faint tremble of his hands and his seeking for your warmth giving him away. After all, it was winter, and your heating didn’t work that well and he was almost entirely naked. Placing a soft kiss to his shoulder, you parted just enough to meet his gaze. 

"C’mon, let’s get you in the shower," you said softly, fingers brushing away some of the hair that stuck to his forehead. He nodded, but didn’t move from your hold, almost afraid you’d be gone, like you’d disappear and never come back if he stopped touching you.

You pecked his lips in a chaste kiss, soft and gently, the corner of his lips, then his cheek and slowly down his jaw. His brows furrowed when you went to crouch down in front of him. He didn’t realize he kept his boots on and he grimaced thinking of all the dirt, the blood, he had brought in. If it was any other night, you would have scolded him and he would have grinned at the scrunch of your nose.

But you didn’t say anything and instead your fingers worked fast on his laces before you nudged his foot, signaling him to raise it so you could take his boots off along with his socks. 

"My god, your feet stink," you murmured under your breath.

"They’re my secret weapon," he said softly, voice thick and hoarse from his crying. 

You smiled and rose back on your feet, your hands wandering over his arms and rubbing up and down in a reassuring, warming motion. You were glad he was starting to calm down, glad he was finally finding peace again.

Jason leaned back onto the counter, watching as you started the hot water, your hands reaching under the faucet to feel the temperature getting tepid on your skin. 

He wanted to ask you to join him, or at least keep him company by sitting on the toilet while he showered because, truthfully, tonight he was scared of being alone.

Then it hit him all at once, that you never lied when you told him you knew him better than himself.

As if you read his mind, you started taking off your own shirt, tugging it up and over your head, messing up your hair in the process. You didn’t realize he had moved closer to you until you were face to face with him, a faint smile painted on his lips as he tentatively brushed away the strand of hair that fell in front of your eyes. 

You reached for his belt, but his fingers wrapped around your wrist, sending chills down your spine, thinking you had done something wrong and were back to square one.

"I can do it," he whispered, losing his grip on you, scared of his own strength. But his touch was soft, barely there, and his own mind was playing tricks on him that even a small caress of his could hurt you right now.

You both stood there, naked in front of each other with clothes bunched up in your hands. It wasn’t awkward, but you could see the extent of his injuries like this—purple and blue hues decorating his legs among the greens that were begging to fade. He rarely came home like this. Whatever happened tonight must have left him with something bigger than some physical damage to deal with.

Your free hand reached for his clothes and chucked them all in the laundry basket by the door, your foot nudging the boots next to it to push them out of the way. 

As you took his hand in yours, you guided him towards the shower, glass doors fogged up already by the steam. Jason unconsciously stared at you and tracked your every movement, careful and pointed like you just caged him in a trap to deliver the final blow. But as the hot water hit your bodies and your face softened in pleasure, he knew he could finally let his guard down because in your presence—because it was you—no evil could ever come near him.

He let himself bask in the feeling of the warm water running down his skin, his tense muscles finally relaxing, and he closed his eyes, his hair now wet falling flat right on his forehead. 

"Is it too hot?" you asked, voice soft as not to startle him. He shook his head slowly. You hummed too in acknowledgement. Jason could hear you move around in the shower but despite his curiosity, he kept his eyes closed, too relaxed to worry.

You took your shampoo bottle and squeezed some out in your hand before you gently started washing his hair. He lowered his head just enough so you wouldn’t be on your tiptoes, arm unconsciously wrapping around your middle to keep you secure. As soon as your hands reached his scalp, he relished in the feeling of your fingertips massaging it, suds of shampoo sliding down his neck.

It was so mundane, so simple, yet overwhelmingly intimate how you were taking care of him, like you always did, but this time Jason was filled with emotions he never thought could exist. You were in his arms, washing his hair and working your magic into allowing him to just be Jason despite the burdens of the night, melting everything away with one simple touch.

And for the first time that day, he felt good. Loved. Loved for who he truly was, the boy under the mask who thought didn’t deserve his second chance at life until you came along, turning his world upside down. You taught him how to be human again because no matter how long it had been, he still felt out of place like he didn’t belong in his body. But your patience, your resilience, your ability to love unconditionally, your ability to believe in him, made all the pain he had suffered worth it. If it took him dying to finally understand what it meant to love and be loved, so be it.

Jason didn't realize you had stopped washing his hair until he heard the click from the cap of your body wash being opened. It was your body wash, not his stupid 3 in 1 alpine musk you always teased him about despite having grown fond of it by now, it was your nauseatingly sweet, sugary, sticky scent that filled his nose. 

You squeezed some on his very own loofah and started scrubbing down his shoulders, down his arms, across his torso. He must have looked ridiculous, standing in the middle of your shower, letting his tears fall from his eyes a second time that night with suds and soap all over his body.

"Jay? What’s wrong?" you worried, hands now frozen mid air.

"Nothing, it’s nothing," he reassured you, shaking his head and sniffling away the tears that kept threatening to spill down his cheeks. But you knew him better than yourself and when his eyes met your worried ones, it was like you broke a dam. The thought that you held even an ounce of concern for him, that you chose him, love him despite all his flaws just made his heart clench.

"You’re crying," you pointed out, voice soft barely above a whisper, still full of pure worry as your hands reached to cup his face. His lashes were wet with a mixture of tears and running water that cascaded down his face and you wasted no time brushing it away. "Did I hurt you? Wh–"

Jason cut you off by laying his head on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist tightly, hoping that through his silence and tight hug you would understand that you could never hurt him. Not even intentionally. And that all this was a result of an overwhelming amount of emotions he wasn’t used to deal with.

He didn’t move and neither did you. You lost track of time, it could’ve been five minutes or even thirty that you spent with his arms wrapped around your middle while warm water poured against your naked skin. Your fingers ran through his hair, cradling his head in your hand.

He could feel your light kisses on the side of his head, his shoulder, warmth engulfing his chest every time your lips would make contact with his skin. He almost fell asleep like this, feeling content, feeling like what happened tonight didn’t make him a monster. He wanted to stay in your embrace for the rest of his life. 

It was only when he could feel the steam annoyingly stick to his skin and the ball of his feet hurting from standing for too long that he pulled away from the crook of your neck to look into your eyes.

"Let me take care of you now," he breathed, a downturn smile on his lips as his hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. 

You wanted to protest because you didn’t need to be taken care of. This should've been all about Jason. You weren’t the one who was hurt, aching, or had been crying after having probably the worst night of your life in a while. No, it was Jason who broke down in front of you, who now couldn’t say ‘I love you’ without it catching in his throat despite wanting to show how truly thankful he was for you, because not a day went by that he believed he didn’t deserve you. You were too good for him, always patient and understanding of everything he went through. 

So he resorted to showing you in the way he knew best. Silently. And you let him, if it brought him peace, with no rush, even though your fingers started to prune.

When you rinsed the last of the soap from your body, you reached behind him to finally shut the water off, silence filling the room. You both took your time wrapping each other and drying off with your towels as you walked back into your bedroom to pick your pajamas.

Jason stood a few inches too close to you, casually bumping into you as he waited patiently for you to finish getting ready for bed. Then you felt a small tug at your shirt, shifting your attention to him and you were sure the blush adorning his cheeks wasn’t left off from the hot shower. He was growing impatient, more tired and he would never admit out loud that he wanted to lie down in bed, with you in his arms, safe.

You hid the smirk painting your lips from him and took his hand in yours, fearing he might close in himself again, and guided him towards your bed. 

There was something about him, lying under the covers facing you, that made him look so small despite his size, so himself, and so unapologetically beautiful.

Your hand cupped his cheek and he leaned into your touch with a sigh before turning to press a kiss into your palm.

"I love you," he whispered into your skin, "so much you can’t even begin to imagine."

His hand kept yours in place as his lips rested onto your palm for a second longer before peppering kisses down your wrist and bringing you closer until you were flushed to his chest.

Jason nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and his arm rested secure around your middle with his hand sprawled on your back, your bodies fitting perfectly against each other like the perfect puzzle piece.

His eyes burned from having cried too much, but it didn’t matter as sleep started to quickly take over him. And just like that, his breathing became even and his grip on you loosened, and you hoped he was conscious enough, in that blurred line between asleep and awake, to hear your voice telling him that you knew, that even though he rarely outwardly said it, you knew he loved you. Because he told you in all the small things he did without realizing it, and because he was here, with you, allowing himself to strip naked of all those walls he built around his heart to feel alive again. 

the party had long ended, the alcohol was still buzzing through your system and bruce somehow  had never looked this good. his jacket was missing, shirt slightly unbuttoned at the top, the bottom partly out of his dress pants, tie sitting around his neck untied, hair a complete mess. but the best part of him was that gold band shining on his ring finger under the elevator light.

your daydreaming was interrupted as bruce hooked a finger to the fallen strap of your party dress, slowly bringing it back onto your shoulder. his head rested on the elevator wall and with a loving gaze matching yours, his eyes traveled down to your neck, smirk quickly turning from love to lust.

his fingers trailed over your shoulder and slowly moved his hand to wrap gently around your neck, calloused fingers rough against your hot skin. he gave you a gentle squeeze, just enough to get your chest all warm and fuzzy, and pulled you closer to start devouring your lips.

it was sloppy, hot, wet, and charged with the teasing game you decided to start playing earlier; tongues fighting for dominance and teeth clashing, his hand moved at the back of your neck and kept you flushed to him, squeezing whenever you tried to pull away to breathe with the right pressure to make your knees buckle. he tasted so sweet, almost saccharine, that you couldn’t stop kissing him, and you couldn’t help but whine when the elevator rang and bruce pulled away to lead you out and into your room. thank god it wasn’t far.

bruce pushed the door open and swiftly closed it behind him before shoving you against it. his mouth trailed down your neck, leaving wet kisses on his wake. your hands roamed his body, feeling hazy as you dug your nails into the skin of his shoulders to bring him impossibly closer to you. a small fuck left his lips before resuming on biting and sucking into the side of your neck, leaving red marks behind.

lost in the moment, you gasped at the unexpected change of pace when he grabbed at your arm and threw you on the bed with vigor. you tried to turn around and face him, to be more comfortable to undress yourself, but he pushed you back down onto the mattress with his large hand covering almost the whole small of your back.

“god, you’re so fucking hot like this,” he whispered while pushing your dress up to your hips. you giggled, teasing him by wiggling your ass in the air, knowing your tight short dress was now exposing your white ruined thong. but your snickering didn't last long. one of his hands came in contact with your ass, a harsh slap echoing through the room, sure of the red print left behind.

“my wife,” he said placing one knee onto the mattress, “my beautiful fucking wife” as his other knee followed. the surface dipped slightly under his weight, feeling his body against your back when he leaned forward, his hands coming to rest by your head.

you grinded on him as much as you could, bare ass now making contact with the hard on in his pants and grinding. the sensation paired with the comforting weight of his body on top of yours was driving you insane, alcohol enhancing your lewd thoughts.

you wanted to beg him to touch you, have his hands on your body, do something about the ruined white lingerie you had put on just for him. you didn’t manage to utter a single plea that his carnal desire had already matched your silent desperation and he couldn’t hold himself back from taking you just like this. 

bruce removed himself from atop of you to unzip his pants, fumbling slightly with his belt for the alcohol put him in a dazed state. he never thought it was possible to ever crave you this badly, this intensely, but you were his wife now and you looked divine, goddess-like, fully dressed in white, with a shiny rock on your finger, and his last name engraved inside. and it was all turning him on even more.

pants and boxers lowered enough to free his aching cock, he brought two fingers to your core, spreading your wetness around before moving aside your thong string to tease your entrance. your moans were muffled by the duvet underneath you, but that didn’t stop them from making his cock twitch in anticipation and push his fingers further inside of  you.

you called out his name in pleasure, in plea, to stop teasing you and just stuff you full of his cock, but your cunt was squeezing his fingers tight and he couldn’t stop looking at the effect he had on you.

“bruce, please i need you,” you whined.

and he slowly pulled his fingers out, getting a taste of your sweet arousal before stroking his cock, tip red and leaking. he lined up with your cunt and rubbed himself through your wet slit, your mouth falling open in a silent moan as he slowly slid himself inside your dripping wet cunt until he bottomed out. 

bruce held you in place, your ass in midair, and started slamming into you—slowly and rough and with deep strokes, his hand keeping your back firmly arched into the mattress. you felt too fucking good he could cum inside you right now, yet your screams had him going harder, enjoying this feeling for as long as possible. 

his pace quickened and you cried out against the bedding, the rapid slapping noise of his body dominating your sounds. he palmed you softly with his free hand before smacking the round of your ass, which had you letting out a staggered moan. you sucked in a deep breath as he leaned down to press his lips next to your ear, "luckiest man alive. i get to have you like this for the rest of my life." 

he raised back on his knees and pumped his hips hard, grabbing and kneading at your hips and your backside. the perfect view of your body as you took him whole, cunt squeezing him with each stroke, made him wither. his increased speed faltered with each pulse of your walls around his cock and it took him only a few more to come undone.

you whined as he filled you up with his cum, your orgasm coming not long after as he pushed his load deeper and deeper inside of you until he guided you down flat on your belly with his hand. you were half-crushed under his body weight, but you couldn’t care less, you were on cloud nine.

as he kissed along the back of your neck and ran his fingers softly up your arm, he removed himself from you and you hissed at the empty feeling. bruce stood up by the edge of the bed, cock already half hard again watching your spent body. you turned around and plopped yourself back on the mattress, admiring the man in front of you, sweaty and panting, with a soft smile on your lips.

“you ready for round two? because we’re gonna go all night,” he bit at his lip, ridding of his wrinkled shirt. and you knew he really meant it when he picked up the discarded tie from the floor.