The Girl Who Cried Todd

Not many things made Jason happy. Granted, when he wasn’t throwing a tantrum, not many things made Jason unhappy as well. Jason just moved with the flow, and things that happened just happened. That’s what trauma does to a person.

So when Jason is unhappy, he usually becomes angry, and the anger that Jason would feel is explosive- hot blinding rage. And when Jason was happy, well, he felt like he was on cloud 9, and any outsider would be able to tell that he was being very unusual.

Jason’s ego had been boosted since the day you confessed that you found his body attractive, and Jason was definitely happy. He found himself whistling and humming during the day. Your reactions also made Jason ecstatic. Jason had become comfortable with wearing more comfortable clothing. Tight short sleeve t-shirts were his go-to, but he also had added white tank tops to the mix. Sometimes when he was feeling particularly confident, he would go shirtless.

Jason had made it a point to flex his body at you every chance he would get. He would reach for the spices in the overhead cabinet a little bit too far, or he would grip his glass a little bit too hard just to flex his forearms and biceps. The best was when he was sitting or standing next to you, and he would reach across to your other side, putting his body in your way as much as possible to get something he didn’t need. Jason noticed you would take a small but sharp inhale, and then get flustered and red afterward.

But his absolute favorite moment was when you were leaning against the sink sipping water. The layout of his kitchen was that the refrigerator stood next to the sink. He had a devious idea when he saw you there, unsuspecting. He approached you with a devilish smirk on his face, and he trapped you with one arm on the far side of the sink so you couldn’t escape, his body just inches away from yours. The other arm, he opened the fridge and grabbed a soda, popping off the tab with just one finger, and without breaking eye contact, started gulping it down. You looked up to him with wide eyes, your face becoming red. And then he left you there.

***

You weren’t stupid, you knew what Jason was doing. Part of you regretted confessing to him because he was teasing you so much, but another part of you was truly happy that he now felt comfortable enough around you- and hell, maybe even around himself- to be able to show exposed skin.

Another part of you was ridden with guilt. You shouldn’t be sexualizing your best friend this way.

Being able to read people and their body language or microexpressions is not the same as reading someone’s mind, and it is definitely not how it is portrayed in the media. Body language analysis has been proven unreliable again and again, and even cues as to when someone was lying have been debunked. At first, you thought you could read someone’s mind when you saw their actions.

But Dick Grayson always held eye contact when he spoke to you. He would smile when you told him about your day and listen to you intently, truly engaged in conversation. He would give you lingering soft touches and kiss you randomly when you went out together. He would shower you with compliments and make you feel wanted and loved.

Based on his actions and his body language alone, you would never guess that he would ever cheat on you. Which is why since then, you made it a point to not trust in your supposed people reading skill anymore. It didn’t matter if all evidence showed one thing. You could never really tell anyone’s intentions. Maybe they had an internal conflict, or maybe it was a subconscious thing.

Or maybe they were just extremely good liars.

So despite always noticing that Jason would look at you longer than necessary, sometimes unprompted, and that he would leave lingering touches- you knew that he was not conscious of these actions. Anyone would be able to see and come to the conclusion that he was in love with you.

But they didn’t know Jason the way you did.

You noticed actions, but it didn’t mean you knew what the intention behind them was.

Jason had always looked out for you, and you knew he loved you- but probably not in the way other people thought he did. Emotions are complicated, and you knew better than anyone that they were not just simply black and white. The both of you cared for each other, and are just affectionate with each other, it didn’t have to mean that either one of you was in love with the other.

That’s what you kept telling yourself as you tried so hard not to lick your lips every time he did a pull up, or squeeze your thighs every time he wore the gray sweatpants. One time you had to actually hold in a moan when you caught a whiff of his scent when he stretched his arm behind you on the sofa and the both of you were close together watching TV that he had finally plugged in.

Oh, his smell. A sweet caramel with leather, oak, and bourbon. His musk was dripping with pheromones and you had to resist the temptation to turn your head and take him all in.

Oh, to take him all in.

You couldn’t focus on anything when he was around, let alone your cases. So you decided to do some apartment hunting.

You stayed at Jasons’ way longer than you had intended. The days flew by when you were with him, as well as tagging along with him for his antiquities job and also having him help you gather evidence for your own case, before you knew it, you realised you had been there for about three months already.

Three months of teasing from him. Of being in such close proximity with him. Admittedly, you may have delayed moving out. Jason reminded you again and again that you could stay as long as you wanted, and a part of you was scared to be alone again. But you had reached the absolute breaking point of sanity.

You had stopped making your cocktails because you were worried what you’d do or say to him if you got remotely tipsy. Luckily, after another week, you found the absolute most perfect apartment where you could immediately move in and make yours.

“I found a place,” you informed Jason. It was 9 at night, and he was getting ready to leave, putting on his jacket and boots.

“Oh?” he questioned, “Where?”

“Dillon Avenue”, you smiled, “Got a view of Robinson Park.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, then walked towards you until you had to look up at him. “Couldn’t stay too far away from me, huh?” he whispered mischievously.

“It’s a nice, spacious place for a good price,” you refused to give into his antics. “3 bedrooms, a balcony-“

“What do you need 3 bedrooms for?” He interrupted and continued on with his patrol prep.

“One will be my bedroom,” you explained, “Then I’m making one room my office, so all the mess will be concentrated there. And the third will be a guest bedroom… for when you sleepover.”

You gave him a cheeky grin.

“You giving me the keys to your apartment, Sunshine?” he breathed, staring down deep into your eyes with an intensity you couldn’t place. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“No!” you denied a little too defensively, “I mean, no. You opened up your home to me when I was in need. I wanted to do the same for you. You’re welcome to come over anytime you want. You get a pair of keys, too.”

His eyes softened. “Thanks, Sunny. You really didn’t have to. I enjoyed having you around.”

“Well, now that I’m out of your hair, you get your place back,” you laughed awkwardly, trying to diffuse the sudden intense gaze he gave you. “You can now invite your lady friends over.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Lady friends?”

“Oh, you know,” you rolled your eyes and turned away, “Chicks. Babes. Whoever you pick up.”

“Why do you think I’m picking up girls?” he asked, incredulous at your statement.

“Well- you’re a hot-blooded male, aren’t you?” you pointed out. “Unless you’re into guys, as well. In which case, I should add- hunks or-”

“Are you picking up guys?” he demanded back, crossing his arms. You noticed that he looked irritated, but you couldn’t figure out why. You just wanted to ease the mood.

“No!” you exclaimed, “But that’s because I’m busy and I have absolutely no time for just any man-”

“But if you weren’t busy then you would invite guys over?” he grit, “You’re a hot-blooded female, right? Recently single. Now that you’re not stuck with me you can fuck whoever you want.”

You looked at him in surprise. Jason had never spoken to you that way before. You saw how his eyes seemed to glow in anger, how his jaw clenched, how he was restraining himself. The madness bubbling up that he was trying to push down.

Dick told you once that Jason wasn’t the same person anymore. It was almost as if the pit buried a portion of itself inside him, lurking beneath the surface and waiting until he exploded. You didn’t see what he was talking about then. But now, you understood.

“Jason, I-”

“Forget it,” he turned away and put on his helmet. “Keep your keys. Wouldn’t want to walk in on you and some random guy going at it-”

“I’m not fucking random guys!” you yelled at him, still keeping a tight control on your shadow.

“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” he walked towards the balcony, “Do whatever you want.”

Then, he left.

You waited until morning for him to come back, your boxes ready from your whole night of packing. You couldn’t sleep. The sun rose, and it was already late morning, but no sign of Jason.

You sighed and started moving your boxes to your car and drove to your new home.

***

It had been two weeks since you moved out from Jason’s apartment. Two weeks of radio silence from him. You were losing control of your shadow, darkness enveloping your new home. Meditating worked for a while, but you found the best way was to pour your whole self into your work.

You broke into Eriksson’s home in the end, taking Jason’s advice from so long ago. It was around three in the morning when you managed to hack into the security system of her house using a ‘borrowed’ device you bribed from Tim. You creeped into the dark house, your footsteps soundless on the persian rugs. You managed to find her home office on the second floor, across what you assumed to be her bedroom.

Her desk was littered with paper. Documents marked with Triton company’s header. Shipping schedules, company bank statements, and other useless information. No laptop. You quietly huffed in frustration. She seemed like the type to do work in bed.

You peeped into her bedroom. She was sleeping soundly, her blond hair a mess on the pillow. Beside her on the nightstand was her laptop. Using your shadow, you engulfed the whole room in total darkness so that if she woke up, she wouldn’t be able to see two inches in front of her. But you navigated the darkness expertly. It was a part of you, after all.

You snatched the laptop and brought it with you back to her study. Inserting a thumbdrive, you silently thanked Tim again. You needed to get a nice gift for that boy. After about five minutes, you put back her laptop on the nightstand and left the house, not leaving a single trace of yourself behind.

Back home, you scoured through the downloaded information of Erikkson’s laptop and grinned to yourself. Everything you needed was there. Cobblepot had transferred money from an offshore account under multiple random shipment payments. A few extra thousand dollars here and there were insignificant for a multi-billion shipping company. But those thousands accumulated to a few million across the different accounts.

Not only that, but Erikkson was stupid enough to keep her emails with Cobblepot as well. But you knew this wasn’t enough. He would willingly throw his faithful accountant under the bus. No, you needed to catch Thorne red handed.

You jumped at the metallic clang outside your window and reflexively stood and turned towards your balcony. A knock against the glass. “S-Sunny… God, please...”

You immediately recognized the muffled groan and sped to help. Jason was in his full Red Hood gear, helmet and all, leaning against the sliding door of your balcony. You slid it open and he tumbled inside.

“Jason!” you gasped, trying to catch him before he fell. He was heavy, and you struggled to guide him toward your sofa.

You could hear his heavy breathing through the helmet when you removed it. His eyes were closed shut, and beads of sweat formed on his face. His hair stuck to his forehead and he was pale.

“No… no…” he gasped, “Please, oh God no…”

He was thrashing about, trying to get up but failing.

“Jason, lie down,” you insisted, “What happened? What should I do?”

“Not real… No, please-” he was cut off by a sob, and then he started to break down in wails. You had never seen him like this before, ever.

You grabbed your phone and called Dick.

“Hello?”

“There’s something wrong with Jason!” you panicked.

“So he’s at yours? I’m on my way right now. Make sure he stays there,” Dick stressed and ended the call.

Jason was gasping for air now, and you recognized a panic attack. “Hey, hey, breathe,” you tried soothing him, but it was as if he couldn’t hear you.

“Please- I can’t- I can’t do this without you,” he choked.

You felt helpless amongst Jason’s ramblings as you waited anxiously for Dick to arrive. You tried your best to talk to him, to comfort him, to get him to drink water- anything. But nothing got through to him.

Ten minutes later, Dick arrived in his Nightwing suit and rushed to kneel at Jason’s side.

“What is that?” you grabbed his wrist to stop him. He was holding a syringe full of clear liquid.

“He got hit with Scarecrow’s toxin. This is the antidote. It’s okay. It won’t hurt him,” he explained.

Yes, of course. This was Dick. He may have been an asshole, but he wouldn’t do anything to Jason. You nodded and let go, watching him inject the needle into a vein on the back of Jason’s hand.

You waited. And waited. A minute passed by.

“It’s not working,” you hissed at Dick.

“It needs time to travel through his body,” Dick said calmly, “Give it another minute.”

After a few moments, Jason’s breathing started to ease. He wasn’t hyperventilating anymore, and his ramblings and muttering stopped. You pressed your fingers at his jugular, noting his pulse slowing down to a steady rhythm. You sighed in relief, noticing Dick doing the same.

“What the hell happened?” you turned to Dick. It was the first time you saw him since the break up. He looked a little sullen, a stubble present, reminiscent of how he looked when you met him at the diner all those years ago after Jason’s death.

“He was reckless,” Dick answered, “Scarecrow was experimenting again, and he released his gas at a bar. About twenty were inside. He was there first, but asked for backup on the open channel we all have access to. I think he was expecting Bruce or Tim. But I showed up instead.”

Dick looked at you a little guiltily before continuing. “I had a couple of air filters on me. New ones that Bruce made in advance since he knew Scarecrow was experimenting again with smaller molecules. I tried to give him one but he ignored me and said the filters in his helmet were enough. I didn’t even have time to argue before he charged inside. I followed after him and saw that he was already hit hard by the toxin. I also already had the antidote on me, but he rushed off, shouting and yelling incoherently. I had to let him go, at least, until backup arrived because the people inside the bar were already attacking each other. A couple of minutes later, Bruce and Tim arrived. I started to look for him, then you called. I rushed straight here as fast as I could.”

“Oh, Jason, you idiot,” you whispered to him, brushing aside hair that fell on his forehead. He leaned into your touch, frowning deeply and letting out a small grumble. You stood up and turned to Dick, who was already on his feet.

“Thank you,” you said. “For helping.”

“He’s my brother. I love him, even if he hates me right now,” Dick replied, a sad look across his face.

“How did you know where I stayed?” you inquired, “I forgot to mention it.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I always keep track of the people I care about.”

“Right,” you averted your eyes, “I need another favour. Could you help me carry him to the guest room?”

“The guest room?” he asked, confused.

“Yeah, I have a room ready for him,” you explained. “Just- come help me.”

Dick obliged and did a complicated maneuver that resulted in him fully carrying Jason on his back in a military carry. You led the way to the guest room and Dick put him gently down on the bed. The both of you exited the room, with Dick reassuring you that Jason will be fine in the morning. You led him to the kitchen and gave him a glass of water. He sat at the dining table, his domino mask off. Then, you found yourself in an awkward silence with Dick.

“So you two aren’t together?” Dick broke the silence.

“What?” you blurted, “Why would you think we were together?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “I thought after we broke up, you went to stay with him and… you know…”

You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at him. “And what?”

“And you guys found out about your feelings for each other and got together.”

“Dick,” you took a deep breath to calm yourself down. “In case you forgot- actually, scratch that. You definitely forgot that you and I were in a relationship-”

Dick visibly cringed at that.

“-but I didn’t have feelings for Jason when I was with you,” you continued. “I loved you. I don’t know why you thought that I wished you were him.”

“Think of why and how we got together in the first place,” he exasperated, “When you texted me to come over that night, why were you drinking? What were you thinking about? Why did you ask me to come?”

“Fine,” you admitted, “I was missing Jason that night. And it may have started like that. But, Dick. I wasn’t trying to replace him with you. You were there for me, you brought me out of that deep dark hole I buried myself in, and I was feeling that attraction for weeks before it happened. And that period of time when we weren’t really together but kept on flirting, and sneaking away? I loved you for you.”

“You never wished that I was him?” he whispered the question as if he was afraid of the answer.

“Never, Dick,” you instinctively reached for his hand. “Did you think that the whole time we were together?”

You felt guilty all of a sudden. To find out that he was carrying that thought and insecurity with him the whole time.

“I guess I did,” he chuckled humorlessly, “But please, tell me the truth. Was there any part of you that thought being with me was the closest thing you could have to being with him?”

You blinked at his words, and pursed your lips. He was right again. But before you could open your mouth to answer, he said, “See? That hesitation? I’ve seen it a million times when we used to talk about this. And you know, what? I thought it was fine. Really, I did. I knew you genuinely loved me, but I also knew that we would never have been together if Jason never died. And that doesn’t excuse what I did to you. I hurt you, and for that, I’m really sorry. But I just knew deep down that it was always going to be the two of you. And when he came back and you guys started hanging out, I could see you slipping further away from me. I wasn’t supposed to be in the picture.”

“Was that why you kissed her?” you asked, and you realised that it didn’t hurt you at all when you said it out loud. “Because you thought that I was going to leave you for Jason?”

“God, no,” he shook his head, “It was a mistake. Kori and I… we have a complicated history, and I never should have maintained that much contact with her while I was with you. That was my own doing. And don’t get me wrong, I may have thought all of that about you and Jason, but if I hadn’t fucked up the way I did, there was no way in hell I was going to let Jason steal you from me.”

“But you did fuck up, Dick,” you told him, “There’s no going back to how we were before. I’m sorry that I never realised how anxious you got about my feelings towards you, and I’m sorry for saying this now, but I am completely over you. But… I forgive you. For hurting me.”

“Thank you,” he smiled. You noticed his eyes darted from Jason’s room and back at you. “But also, why aren’t the two of you together?”

“Ugh, Dick!” you rolled your eyes at him.

“I saw the way you looked at him,” he pointed out, “You love him.”

“I’ve always loved him, you know that,” you stated.

“I should have been clearer. You’re in love with him.”

You took a gulp of water to avoid answering.

“It’s okay,” he said, “I mean, we broke up months ago, and I hurt you badly. It’s fine to get over me.”

The guilt you didn’t realise you had slowly ebbed away at Dicks’ words.

“You’re right,” you nodded, “I think I’m in love with him.”

“Why haven't you told him yet?”

“Well, considering we got into a fight and haven’t spoken for two weeks, I don’t think telling him that was on top of my list of things to do,” you snorted.

“So that’s why he’s been moodier than usual,” he sighed, “What was the fight about?”

“Honestly, I don’t even know,” you tried to recall, “I had just found my new place and told him that once I’m out of his hair, he can start bringing girls back home-”

Dick burst out in a guffaw. “Why on Earth did you say that?”

“It was a joke!” you defended yourself, “I don’t know why he took it so badly.”

“Because maybe he’s in love with you, too?” Dick smirked, “For someone who can supposedly read people, why didn’t you think of that?”

“Because I learned that no matter how people act, you still can’t know what they’re thinking about,” you looked away.

“What do you mean?”

“With you, based on your body language alone, I would never have guessed you’d do what you did,” you murmured, still looking at anywhere but him. “I’m afraid that despite his touches, his teasing, his microexpressions, his feelings for me are not what I think they are.”

“Basically, I gave you trust issues,” he sighed, “I’m so fucking sorry, darling. And I know it’s stupid of me to ask this of you, but trust me. Jason is and always has been head over heels in love with you. I was selfish. And whatever he said about me was right. I’m narcissistic and manipulative, even if I don’t realise it. I loved you, I did. Even now, I don’t think I’ll stop caring about you. But Jason? There’s no way that I can ever beat the love he feels for you.”

Your breath stuttered at his words. You should have felt angry or bitter at what he said, because he essentially told you that he didn’t love you with everything he had, that there was a love more than what he felt for you. But instead, it gave you a sense of closure. It made you feel less guilty for falling in love with his brother just shortly after you broke up with him.

“Thanks, Dick,” you smiled at the person whom you once thought you were going to marry. “I think I’ll always care about you too, just in a different way.”

“Friends?” he got up and opened his arms.

“Friends,” you nodded and gave him a hug. “And thanks for helping with Jason. I’m gonna look after him now.”

“Okay, I need to make a move and debrief with Bruce, anyway,” he put his domino mask back on. “See you around.”

With that, he leapt off your balcony.

You went into Jason’s room to check in on him. He was still sweaty, and looked extremely uncomfortable in his armor. You pursed your lips in contemplation. Would it be inappropriate to help take it off? Maybe just the outer layers?

The bed dipped as you sat next to him. First, you took off his boots, holding your breath in fear of his stinky socks. But then you remembered how he would put baking powder in his boots and always aired them out. You discovered that his feet did not, in fact, stink.

Then, you went to his hands and peeled off his gloves. At this point, you started huffing as you tried your best to shift him so you could take off his leather jacket. Once you got it off, you looked over at his thighs where he had guns and his pouches strapped around them. You bit your lower lip.

Oh, the many times you stole glances at him while he put on his thigh straps. You went to take off his knee guards first, putting off the inevitable. The grey pants he wore were meant to be loose and light for ease of movement, yet you could see his powerful quads beneath them. The straps were accentuating his muscles, as if they were teasing you. Take a closer look, they seemed to say. Slowly, you snaked your hands around his thigh strap, feeling for the clasp and making sure to only touch the straps and not lay a finger on his thigh, but as you went around, you had to inch your fingers between him and the bed, pushing inwards because you now realised that the straps unbuckled from behind his thigh.

Click. Finally, you got one strap off. You unbuckled the top of the strap from his belt and carefully set aside the heavy holster. One down, one more to go.

Once you successfully took off his straps, you gave yourself a silent pat on the back for surviving a close encounter with Jason Todd’s thunder thighs. Pleased with yourself, you proceeded to take a wet cloth and wipe his forehead. His brows were still frowned, and you could see his rapid eye movement behind his closed lids. Jason still murmured from time to time, but nothing coherent that you could decipher.

You wondered about what he saw. You knew the fear toxin made people hallucinate to the point of harming others. At least he wasn’t that far gone. You had an idea that it involved you since he kept calling out to you and ended up in your apartment.

You smiled to yourself. You didn’t give him your exact address, yet he still found you, which meant he had been keeping tabs on you. Maybe he wasn’t that angry with you after all.

There wasn’t much you could do to help him now, so you dragged a chair into the room and forced yourself to stay up to make sure he was okay.

***

You groaned at your stiff neck. You had fallen asleep on the office chair and it was already 10 AM. Jason had shifted that night, and now he was sprawled on his belly and snoring softly.

You decided to get up and head to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. You had no idea when he would wake up, but you had to keep yourself busy and distracted, so you made pancake after pancake after pancake.

There was a tower of pancakes when you heard shuffling inside the guest room and the door clicked open. Heavy steps patted through your apartment, making their way toward you. You were still facing the stove, your heart thundering against your chest. You weren’t sure why you were nervous, and you weren’t sure why you didn’t want to look at him.

You froze. Jason had wrapped his arms around you from behind and buried his face in the crook of your neck. You noted that he was shirtless, and you breathed him in. He still smelled like leather and gunpowder and bourbon.

“Are you okay?” you worried.

He nodded into your hair but didn’t say a word. The both of you stayed there for a little while more, until-

“I thought I lost you,” he whispered. “I got hit by the toxin, and I thought I lost you.”

That explained why he was calling out to you the whole time. You were thinking of something to say, but your words failed you, so you just leaned back into him and tilted your head to rest against his.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“And I love you, too, silly,” you smiled, covering the fact that your heart was racing because you wanted him to mean it the way you meant it.

“No, no. I love love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time," his voice rough, breaking, like the words were being torn straight from his chest.

"And when I came back and heard you were with Dick, it—" he let out a shaky breath, his hands clenched at his sides. "It fucking broke me. But it didn’t matter, because more than anything, I just wanted you to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with me."

He took a deep breath and laughed- empty and hollow. "But—fuck. I want you. I want you so bad I can’t think straight. I want to wake up to you every morning, to come home and find you asleep in our bed, curled up in my shirt. I want to hear your laugh fill up the silence, to spend every damn moment of my life finding ways to make you smile. I’d put my fucking hand in a blender if it made you happy. Do you know how hard it is? Every time I’m with you, every second—just stopping myself from reaching for you, from touching you? Even if it’s just your hand, even if it’s the smallest fucking brush of your fingers against mine—I ache for it. I ache for you." He shook his head, like he was drowning in everything he was trying to say. His voice dropped lower, hoarse and desperate. "I want to grow old with you. I want to see every version of you—every year, every change, every soft and quiet moment that no one else gets to have. I want to see you in my clothes, wrapped up in my scent, knowing that you’re mine. I want to show you off to the world, but at the same time—" he exhales sharply, "I want to keep you all to myself. Just once, I want to be selfish with you. Just once, I want to take what I’ve spent years pretending I didn’t want." You felt his throat bob- he was that close to you. He was shaking, like he was barely holding himself back. "You don’t get it, do you?" his voice was softer now, almost like a plea. "My happiest moments—every single one of them—are with you. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and because of that, I want to protect you. To give you the whole fucking world. To treat you the way you deserve to be treated. To make you happy in ways no one else ever has." Another pause. Another deep breath. "I want to devote myself to you." The words slip out, unguarded, exposed, raw. "I want to be yours, in every way that matters. I want to carve out my fucking heart and it didn’t matter if you threw it in the damn garbage disposal. If you don’t want me the way I want you? That’s okay. I’ll still be here. I’ll always be here. Because that’s what you do when you love someone this much. You don’t stop, you don’t run, you don’t take it back." His breath was uneven, like he’d just lay his soul at your feet, waiting for you to step on it. "I love you. And I don't think I'll ever stop." You were shocked beyond words as if your brain zapped. It was all what you wanted to hear, and more. Way more. You slowly turned around, Jason lifting his head up from your neck and loosening his hold on you, his hands down to your waist.

You faced him and rested your hands on his bare chest. Looking into his eyes, you saw they were brimming with tears.

“Jason,” you simply said.

“I know,” he sighed, “I know that was inappropriate. But I couldn’t hold it in anymore. After last night, how I was convinced you were hurt and I was about to lose you, I just had to. I had to let you know or else I’d lose my mind. I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again.”

He made to move away from you, but you stopped him by gripping his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“You were with Dick. I had to respect that,” he explained, “And after, well, you were vulnerable and heartbroken. I couldn’t just dump all of that on you.”

“Dick and I ended things months ago,” you stated.

“I didn’t want you to think I was being opportunistic,” he shrugged, averting his eyes. “Kind of a dick move.”

“Oh, Jason,” you put your hand to his face. He was slightly confused, but leaned into your caress.

“Please don’t give me any pity,” he begged softly, “I don’t want any of that. It makes me feel even worse.”

“I love you too, you idiot,” you smiled.

He, however, frowned. Perplexed.

“I had a talk with Dick last night-” you began but was interrupted by Jason.

“Dick was here?” he frowned.

“Yeah, you don’t remember anything?” you asked.

He shook his head.

“Well, you came stumbling into the house from the balcony, absolutely out of it. Your heart rate was through the roof and you were burning up and you were sobbing and- and wailing,” you recalled. “I didn’t know what to do, so I called Dick and told him you were here. He gave you the antidote and helped carry you to the room.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” he apologised.

“No it’s fine- that’s not the point,” you continued, “We had a talk about, well, about you. And I realised then that when I first got together with him, I thought that I wanted to distract myself from losing you. But then last night he made me realize that he was the closest person to you without actually being you. It made me feel guilty, because even though I loved him, it was for the wrong reasons. I wanted to love you through him, if that makes sense. So when you came back… it was very confusing. Don’t get me wrong, I did love him, but not the same way I love you.”

“You… love me? Like, love me, love me?” He repeated.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed him behind his neck to kiss him.

You heard his surprised gasp, felt his split second of hesitation before he started kissing you back. Slowly, passionately, but fiery hot and desperate. His lips were chapped, and the both of you struggled to keep in sync with each other, often accidentally bumping teeth.

“Fuck, Sunny,” he broke it off and leaned his forehead against yours, breathing hard. “You’re killing me.”

“What’s wrong?” you pouted.

“I’m still wrapping my head around this,” he chuckled, “I’m just so unbelievably happy that I don’t know what to do. Can we pause and take it slow? There’s a mountain of pancakes I’m spotting.”

“Of course,” you nodded, “I’ll make you coffee, too.”

The both of you had breakfast in comfortable silence, often stealing glances at each other and then grinning.

“So tell me what you’ve been up to,” Jason broke the silence, “How’s your investigation going?”

“I broke into Erikkson’s house,” you answered, “Copied her laptop into a hard drive. I was just going through all her records, but there’s still so much.”

“You find anything?”

“Something,” you nodded, “but I’m not sure if it means anything. Some of the accounts don't add up. For example, a shipment would cost a certain amount based on the invoice, but the amount transferred under the invoice number is a few thousand dollars more. There are quite a few of those.”

“Do you think he’s using Triton to launder money?” Jason leaned back in his chair, expression serious.

“Even if he is, I don’t know how to link the money back to Cobblepot,” you sighed. “We need to catch them both together. Or catch a conversation with him and Erikkson.”

“It’ll be difficult. He’s very careful,” Jason paused. “But maybe we’ve been focusing on Thorne too much.”

“Well, considering he’s the subject of the investigation…”

“I meant,” Jason rolled his eyes, “Why does he want Cobblepot’s support so much? He has more than enough money to fund his own campaign. And we know Cobblepot needs him to bring in contraband, but why does he want to get his hands dirty? What can Cobblepot do for him and why is he essential for Thorne winning the elections?”

“So instead of tailing Thorne,” your eyes widen in realisation. You stood up and started to pace the room, piecing it all together. “We should be keeping a close eye on Cobblepot instead. Try to find out what exactly he’s planning and how he’s been pulling the strings.”

“There’s my girl,” he grinned at you proudly.

And hell, you blushed at that.

“Tomorrow night,” you said, finishing up your pancakes. “I’ll make some arrangements. Could you be there for backup?”

“There’s no way in hell I’d let you go there alone without me,” he rolled his eyes.

“Which means,” you walked slowly towards the dining area, then sat on the table right in front of him. Leaning in close, you said in a low voice, “We have some time today.”

You heard Jason’s breath stuttering at the close proximity, his pupils dilating. “I can’t stay long, sweetheart. I gotta go and get my earful from Bruce. I’m sure he would want some bloodwork done, too. See how effective the new anti-toxin is and all that.”

“That’s okay,” you smiled softly. “I’ll meet you tomorrow night for the mission?”

“You can count on me, bab- uh- Sunny,” he stumbled on his words.

You leaned back with wide eyes. “Jason?”

He avoided eye contact. “Yeah?”

“Were you going to call me ‘babe’?” you teased.

“No,” he looked at you in defiance. Then, he stood up, now towering over you and leaned down at you, tilting your chin up with his hand.

“I was going to call you ‘baby’. Is that okay?” he whispered, eyes boring into yours.

“Y-yeah,” your breath hitched. “That’s okay.”

He was closer now, whispers of his lips against yours, yet he never closed the gap to kiss you again. “Does that mean you’re mine now?”

Fuck, the way he said that. The way his voice broke, the whisper breathiness of it- the rawness of the question.

“Yes, Jason. I’m yours,” you whispered back. Your eyes fluttered close, expecting his lips to claim yours. But then, his heat was gone, and he was walking back to his room- tense and stiff.

You didn’t see or hear from him again until it was time for your meetup.

***

“This is not what i agreed to,” Jason’s voice crackled in your ear through the piece. “I don’t understand why you need to wear that while I have to be outside.”

“Because,” you smiled while trying your best not to move your lips, “It’s the required uniform.”

You were holding a tray of tequila shots, wearing a tight fitted leotard with a bustier that pushed your boobs up and fishnet stockings. Completed with stilettos, you walked confidently, sensually, nodding at customers.

You’ve been to the Iceberg Lounge only once, almost five years ago. The club was dark, with sections lit up by pulsing ice blue lights. The dance floor was crowded- a dj wearing a balaclava stood at the turntable. The air was heavy with smoke.

“What the hell are you doing here?” a young man with a white suit and black lapels approached you with irritation. “Aren’t you here to replace Sonia?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you looked down meekly. Sonia received a phone call saying her grandmother in Columbia was sick and she was needed back- the one way flight already paid for.

“Then get your ass to the first floor! Mr Cobblepot has important guests. Quickly,” he rushed you.

“I’ll get your ass beaten up,” growled Jason in your ear. You chuckled to yourself.

The first floor was quieter, more intimate. Only VIPs and invited guests were allowed up because that was where Cobblepot entertained and overlooked the bottom floor. It was like a large balcony covered by glass to block out the music. Plush seats and lounge chairs faced the balcony in a semicircle. You saw the silhouette of the top hat, and set your eyes on the target.

“-can you believe it?” Penguin guffawed to his guests- other notable but minor crime lords from different sections of Gotham, all working under him. “The man is the CEO but refuses to get his hands dirty!”

“Stuck up, prick,” one of them said, “He ain’t got what we got, Ozzie. Born with a silver spoon an’ all that.”

“He thinks he’s such a good boy,” Penguin continued, “But he still comes crawlin’ to me to- who are ya, beautiful? Where’s Sonia?”

He looked at you suspiciously, his hooked nose scrunched up. “Sonia had a family emergency. I’ll be your server for tonight, Mr Cobblepot,” you purred, adding a slight breathiness to your voice, and bent over to offer him drinks, making sure to push out your breasts a bit.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jason hissed. So he managed to get into the CCTVs for visual. Too bad it had no audio, or it would have made your work so much easier.

Cobblepot looked at you with his beady eyes, not hiding the lust in them, and licked his lips vulgarly, dropping his view to your chest. He smirked and took a glass. “Well, you can tell Sonia to work downstairs next time. I want you up here now.”

“Sonia was a lookah, but she didn’t have the assets didn’t she?” another man chuckled.

“Do you think he’d still like your assets when he’s drinking through a straw?” Jason fumed.

You held in your smile. Jason never acted possessive or jealous before- he couldn’t have without revealing his feelings for you. You knew he had the overprotective streak, what with him punching Dick in the face- but this sort of jealousy? You kind of liked it.

After serving drinks to the others, you circled back to Cobblepot and half sat on the armrest next to him. You caressed his shoulder and leaned into his ear to whisper, “Anything else you need from me, Mr Cobblepot?”

He put his arm on your thigh and started rubbing it up and down. You had to try hard not to recoil from his touch.

“I’m going to cut off his hand,” Jason grit.

“Nothing for now, darlin’. Just stay closeby. Here- stand right here,” he gestured for you to stand in front of him, slightly to the side, giving him a full view of your ass in the leotard. You clenched your teeth. Disgusting, despicable man.

“Sunny,” Jason growled, “I swear to fucking God, he is going to die before the night ends. Get his fucking keycard quick and excuse yourself- or this place is going to turn into a crimescene.”

You understood Jason’s frustration, but you haven’t found the right opportunity to pick his pocket yet.

“Anyway- the fucking CEO wants my connections. He thinks it’s easy winnin’ mayor. He doesn’t realise I own Gotham. Me. My dirty cops, my dirty judges-”

“Do you think it’s wise to speak of that with, ah, strangers in the room?” a quiet voice spoke out from the corner. He had a different accent from the rest- not a Gothamite.

Cobblepot let out a booming laughter. “This beauty? Nah, you’re not gonna spill a single thing from this room, aren’t ya, beautiful?”

Then, in a show of dominance, he slapped your ass.

You heard Jason’s stream of curses in your ear, but you were counting backwards from 100 in multiples of seven. You had to reel your shadow in. You breathed in deeply as you mentally meditated, almost forgetting to reply.

“Of course not, Mr Cobblepot,” you winked at him. “You pay my rent after all.”

Penguin laughed again at that, sparkle in his eyes at your playfulness. “Get us more drinks, darlin’.”

You smiled coyly, then proceeded to the bar. In your ear, Jason was still muttering threats of decapitation, flaying, medieval torture-

“Jason, calm down,” you whispered, “I thought of an opening. I’ll be out soon.”

“Fuck that,” he said, “Get out now. I don’t want you near them. I’ll shoot all of them down and blow the door to his office open if I have to.”

“Jason,” you hissed as you poured more whiskey into glasses, “I can handle myself. You know that.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he grumbled.

“You’re cute when you get all jealous and possessive,” you teased, an attempt to defuse the situation.

“You’d better think the same when I’m covered in their guts,” he seethed in pent up rage.

“No, I wouldn’t think you’re cute then,” you hummed, “I’d think you’re hot.”

“So you’re telling me,” he said slowly, “That you’d get turned on if I were to lose control?”

You nearly spilled the whiskey you were pouring. It was the first time Jason had flirted with you directly like that.

“I saw that,” he chuckled, his deep voice rumbling in your ear.

“Stop teasing,” you scolded, “You’re distracting me.”

“Oh, I’m distracting you?” he scoffed, “I have to watch you walking around in that ridiculous uniform and not be there to let everyone know who you belong to, and I’m distracting you?”

“My, my, Jay,” you toyed with him, already done with the drinks and walking back up. “I didn’t know you liked this outfit so much. I can keep it on later when we get back and show you a real distraction.”

Jason swore.

Now that all the cards were out on the table, you definitely enjoyed teasing and flirting with him. Even though you shared nothing more than just a kiss. Even though he insisted on taking it slow- which you fully respected. You wondered how slow exactly Jason wanted to take it, because you didn’t know how long you could resist touching him.

With your plan in place, you took a deep breath. Sauntering towards Cobblepot with your back straight, you served him the tray of drinks- but not before accidentally tripping on the lush carpet, propelling yourself forward, spilling the drinks all over him.

The whiskey glasses crashed to the ground in glittering pieces. Cobblepot swore, but didn’t move. You had accidentally fell forward and was now bent over his lap, ass out.

“Oh my God, I’m so so sorry,” you scrambled, then basically straddled him as you tried to dab the cloth you had on his suit. During the commotion, you nimbly felt for the keycard in his breast pocket and swiped it without him noticing, hiding it in the cloth.

“You’re lucky you’re sexy,” he growled at you.

Suddenly, you felt a burst of pain in your skull. One of his men- the non-local- had fisted your hair and threw you to the floor. You winced at the pain on your palm, the shards of broken glass cutting into them.

“You clumsy little bitch,” the man shouted. He was in his forties, with graying hair on the sides. He would have been handsome, if it weren’t for the remnants of a burn on one side of his upper face that singed off his eyebrow and mutilated his ear.

“I’m-I’m sorry-” you made your lower lip tremble, tears spilling.

“He fucking laid his hands on you,” you heard Jason in the earpiece. His voice was calm and cold.

Oh, great.

A sting across your face. The man had backhanded you. You felt the tendrils of your shadow begin to slip out, but you forced yourself to reel it in. You couldn’t do anything. You stifled your power.

In your ear, Jason let out a dark chuckle.

You quickly got up to your feet and excused yourself.

You didn’t bother to pick out the glass from your skin. You had to get in and out of his office quick before Jason lost his shit. You head towards the back, where Cobblepot kept his office secure.

“Jason?” you whispered.

Silence.

“Jason, I’m heading towards his office right now, do not, I repeat, do not, do anything rash. Don’t ruin this for me,” you commanded. You found his office. A large sleek ice blue door- the only one in the dark hallway. Next to it was a rectangular scanner. You put his card against it. A single beep, and the door opened.

“Jason, answer me,” you hissed.

“Let me know when you’re out,” he simply said. Nothing more.

You sighed. Now was the hard part. The Penguin’s office looked like an extension of the club outside with blue neon light fittings that ran along the walls and sleek white desk with a computer. On the desk were books, papers, ledgers. You took out the small flash drive from your cleavage and went to insert it in the USB port.

You look through the paperwork on his desk, then widen your eyes in shock. No fucking way was he this careless.

The first ledger you opened contained details of all the transactions he made to Triton Shipments, dating back to when Thorne announced he would be running for mayor. Another ledger detailed his weapons business. The flash drive had about thirty seconds left to download. You gathered all the books and papers and rifled through his drawers. You found another flash drive, and you slipped that into your cleavage as well.

The download was done.

“Jason, I’m heading out now,” you told him. He had been suspiciously quiet the whole time. Another five seconds passed, and then suddenly the fire alarm rang. The music stopped, and you heard shuffling of feet rushing out. That must have been Jason then. You quickly walked back to the staircase, mindful to not bump into Cobblepot, but when you glanced at the VIP lounge, they were all gone. Probably the first to evacuate through a VIP exit.

Effortlessly, you joined the crowd on the ground floor and walked out the main door. You crossed the street and made the turn towards Jason’s car where he was supposed to wait for you as the getaway. You walked up to the passenger door, but noticed Jason wasn’t inside.

Groaning, you leaned against the locked door. “Jason!” you demanded, “Where the hell are you?”

“Coming back soon, baby,” he replied, slightly out of breath. “Just finishing up some business.”

That couldn’t be good.

About three minutes of tapping your heels against the tar road impatiently later, you saw Red Hood casually strutting back toward you. He took off his helmet when he got closer.

“Where did you-”

He crashed into your body and caught your words with his mouth, fisting your hair while he kissed you heatedly. It ended as unexpectedly as it had started, and he put his forehead against yours, panting.

“Get in the car,” he breathed.

Wordlessly, you nodded and entered.

You noticed his knuckles when he drove, bruised and bloody. You didn’t ask what happened.

***

Jason had to restrain himself while the elevator made its way to your apartment floor. His body was still shaking from the rage and adrenaline he felt earlier.

The way everyone in the club was staring at your ass lecherously as you walked in your high heels, the way they were talking about you. Fuck, the way Cobblepot dared to lay his stubby, disgusting fingers on you- he thought that was torturous enough.

The possession he felt was nothing compared to seeing you with Grayson, seeing you all those years ago before he died. It was as if that agreement the both of you had that morning activated something deep inside him. A primal, feral need to mark his territory.

Yes, Jason. I’m yours.

But when he saw through the cameras- the way that bastard had hurt you- he was biting his knuckles to stop himself from storming inside, guns blazing. The raw need to protect, to avenge took over him.

But it was all over now. When he sounded the alarm, he waited for the asshole to come out. Dragged him soundlessly to a nearby alley. He didn’t care that he could have been caught, he didn’t care that someone may have seen him.

The man was pulp after he was done with him.

He was still trying hard to contain all that emotion when you unlocked the door, but he was hanging on by a thread.

The next thing he knew, he had you against the door, writhing.

“I thought- I thought you wanted to take this slow,” you gasped as Jason started leaving a trail of small wet kisses down your neck. He savoured the salty taste of your sweat, the scent of light vanilla of your body lotion.

“I can’t stop myself,” he groaned in your ear, “I just- I need you. I need to touch you. To make you feel good. To make you mine.”

His hands were everywhere. Gripping, squeezing, pulling you close as if he was afraid you were going to disappear. And a part of him was actually afraid.

He went back to your lips, prying your mouth open with his tongue, then started to nibble your ear while his hands roamed everywhere. It was as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch and where he wanted to kiss.

His breathing was ragged. He could feel how tense his body was. And you were moaning so delicately against him, still wearing that stupid uniform that he wanted to rip off. He felt you grind against him, not surprised that he was already excruciatingly hard.

He needed to- fuck he needed to take you right then and there.

He ripped open your bustier, and heard a small metal clang to the floor. He glanced down and saw two flash drives. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t have any pockets,” you shrugged.

Fuck.

He threw the leotard to the side and your tits fell out. Beautiful, soft, supple- everything he had imagined. And that damned cute mole at the top of your breast. He nipped on it.

Your hands were in his hair, pulling gently. He gripped at your waist, hands sliding down to your centre but- that stupid fishnet stockings were still in the way.

He paused.

“Jason?” you breathed in question.

He dropped his forehead to yours, and his entire body shuddered.

“Not like this,” he rasped, “Not when I’ve been starved, waiting for years.”

He took a deep breath and stepped back, looking down at you. Your eyes were still questioning.

“I should be on my knees for you,” he stated plainly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And then, he dropped down in front of you.

He heard you suck in a sharp breath.

His teeth grazed against your skin, and he caught your fishnets in his teeth.

And ripped it apart.

Discarding the remnants, you were bare for him now. He looked up at you, a fucking goddess he revered. Something must have shifted in his eyes, because yours had softened and he felt you cup his face. Moments passed in that position, and he had to remind himself to breathe.

“Let’s get you to the bedroom,” he stood up and guided you to your room without taking his hands off you. Slowly, he spun you around so your back was to the bed and he pushed you lower and lower into it with his kisses. You ended up sitting down and your hands started to roam his body, up his abs to his chest, then down to his jeans to unbuckle his belt.

Jason savoured every touch, his skin tingling. Now he was fully naked, his cock so unbearably hard and leaking at the tip. He smirked when he saw you eye it and subconsciously licked your lips.

You reached for it, but with all the willpower he had, he caught your wrist and stopped you.

“No.”

“Jason,” you fucking whined at him, “I want to taste you.”

“No,” he patiently stated. His exterior a vast difference from what he felt inside. “I want to take things slow. I want to burn every second to my memory.”

He gripped your chin to angle it up at him. “I want to worship you.”

He gently pushed you back, gesturing you to lie down on the bed. Then, then he started his work on you.

He left a trail of burning kisses down your neck, sucking both the tips of your nipples, down your stomach. He licked your sweat, memorising your taste, he breathed you in, memorising your scent, he brushed his lips against your surface, memorising the silky softness of your skin.

Jason knew you were a mess. You were already wriggling, your hands gripping the sheets and releasing, flying to his hair, his face, his back- silently begging him to hurry the fuck up.

But, no. Jason was going to take it slow.

He reached the apex of your thighs, your pussy bared and wet and ready for him. So fucking beautiful.

But he didn’t touch you there. Instead, he kissed and licked at the crook of your thigh, his hands caressing your curves.

“Jason, please,” you begged.

Jason ignored you, and then went further near your center. But not there. Not yet.

He kissed and sucked on your pussy lips, avoiding where you wanted him the most. And then, he flattened his tongue, and let out a long, deep, torturous groan as he licked from your hole up, stopping right before your clit. Your taste. Fuck it all, fuck everything, and fuck the world- because your taste was everything he ever needed to survive..

“Fuck!” you moaned.

“I don’t deserve you,” he told you, still giving you tiny licks. Teasing. “I should never be allowed to say your name. I should never be allowed to touch you.”

You whimpered.

Jason closed your eyes and again, took another long deep breath. He was shaking with want, with need. His cock was so fucking painful, and all he wanted to do was to slam into you and relieve himself of the ache he has felt and suffered for so long.

But Jason was going to worship his goddess like she deserved.

“But I will,” he concluded, “And no one will dare stop me.”

He flattened his tongue against your clit, giving you deep, hard, strong strokes of his tongue. You cried out loud, begging and sobbing.

He continued his excruciating pace, slowly drawing out your pleasure to the surface.

“Jason!” you choked, “Please. Oh, God. Please.”

He indulged you this time, slowly pressing his finger at your dripping entrance. You moaned out loud when he pushed it in and began massaging you from the inside at the same brutal pace of his tongue. Hard, slow, long, and drawn out.

He inserted another, and God, he felt your pussy clench around him.

He swore his dick was going to fall off. He had never felt this turned on in his entire life. He was so close to coming right there and then just from eating you out, without touching his cock for a second.

He heard your breath quicken, your pussy clenching tighter and tighter around his fingers. So wet, so warm, so fucking tight.

“I’m gonna- Jason- I’m gonna-”

You didn’t have to finish the sentence. Jason knew what you needed.

He quickened his tongue on your clit, and started finger fucking you hard, hitting that spot he found that made you gasp and shudder. The grip of your fingers in his hair was almost painful, but Jason savoured it. Savoured every time you touched him.

Your touch could burn him alive and cover his skin in blisters if it meant being able to give you this much pleasure and watch you come undone.

Your pussy clamped down on his fingers, and you screamed. Screamed in a high pitch plea, that dissipated into a silent ‘O’. Your muscles were fluttering around him, your back arched off the bed. He had to use his other arm to keep your hips down and flushed against his face so he could help you ride out your orgasm properly, prolonging the pleasure.

Your thighs were shaking uncontrollably.

He eased up on his tongue, slowed down his fingers, as you came down. With a final lick that made you twitch, he took out his fingers and straight away put it in his mouth. Closing his eyes, he felt like he was starved for your juices. Fuck, he wanted to just drink you up.

You were breathing hard, panting, depleted, eyes closed in the post-orgasm haze.

Your eyes flew open, and Jason grinned at you. He was kneeling in between your thighs on the bed.

“Where in the hell did you learn how to do that,” you angrily stared at him.

He chuckled at you.

“I’m serious,” you narrowed your eyes at him, “There must have been many before.”

“Jealous, baby?” he quipped. “Good. Now you know how I felt tonight.”

You rolled your eyes at him. He crawled up toward you, hovering over you. He rested his cock on your pubic bone.

He was leaking so much precum.

Without warning, your arms shot down between the both of you and you gave his cock a squeeze.

“Fuck!” he jolted. He was so desperate to come.

“Fuck me, Jason,” you begged, “I need to feel you inside me.”

Jason nodded silently, and lined up his head against your entrance, now wetter than ever after your orgasm.

He paused, straining.

“What’s wrong?”

“I- fuck- I feel like I’m so close, the moment I push inside you, I’m going to come already,” he laughed humourlessly.

“Then come already,” you said, coaxing him. “And then after, you can fuck me again.”

“Jesus,” he groaned. “Fine. Fine.”

He slowly pushed. He knew he was shaking, using every drop of his discipline to not ram into you and start pummeling until he came.

But he was patient. He pushed, and pushed. There was a little resistance as he stretched you, but you were so wet that it went in smoothly.

He bottomed out, and you shared a long moan.

You felt like heaven.

“Jason,” you whimpered. He could see your bottom lip trembling. “Jason, you’re so- fuck, you’re so- I feel so fucking full.”

“I know, baby,” he gasped. The pleasure was so intense, he saw stars, and he hadn’t even started moving yet. "I'm gonna- I’m gonna move slow, okay?”

He slid his cock out, and pushed it back in, hitting your deep spot that made you cry out and clench around him.

Fuck, he wasn’t going to last long.

He quickened his pace slightly, appreciating the way your tits had started bouncing with the movement. He grabbed a palmful of your breast and kneaded, making you shut your eyes tight and drop your jaw open.

He already felt the warmth building, the pleasure making his toes curl.

“Baby,” he rasped, “Fuck, baby. I can’t-”

He was lost. Lost in you.

All he could hear was your loud screams because now- and he didn’t even realise it- he was drilling into you.

Building, and building, the dam was about to burst. And then, you did it.

“Jason,” you whimpered again, voice shaking.

He roared as he pumped you full of his cum, claiming you, marking you from the inside. And he continued to fuck you as he felt you come a second time, contracting muscles pushing his cum out as he fucked it back in.

And then, he collapsed next to you.

In a daze, he pulled you close to his chest, willing his heart to stop thundering.

“Fuck,” you breathed. “Jason, that was-”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you looked up at him.

“I came inside you,” he gulped. “Now you have to get a pill.”

“That’s not a problem, silly,” you laughed.

His chest clenched. “No. I heard the side effects are bad. I don’t want you to feel like shit because of me. I’m sorry.”

“Jason, it doesn’t affect me so badly, don’t worry,” you reassured him, “Just. Shut up. And let’s savour this moment.”

He agreed.

He buried his face into your hair, relishing this moment of peace and calm before either of you had to move and face the world.

“You’re wrong, you know,” you whispered.

“Hmm?”

“You deserve this,” you continued, “You deserve everything good in this world. I don’t know if I’m that for you, but-”

“You’re everything and more,” he insisted.

“I’m just saying, you don’t have to be so selfless all the time when it comes to me.”

“Oh, Sunny,” he whispered into your ear and nuzzled in closer, “I’m horribly selfish when it comes to you. I would watch the world burn- fuck, I would burn the world when it comes to you.”

“Jason-”

“I am taking everything,” he threatened, “Because you are mine. I am taking all of you and making you mine. The light, the dark. Your fucking shadow. You belong to me.”

Jason was falling asleep already, mumbling his threats and violent promises.

Having your best friend back was a type of happiness you never knew you could ever experience. Especially after grieving him. There were no words to describe the way you just wanted to cling on to him, scared he would be taken away from you again.

The week went on with the both of you spending almost all of your waking time together. You had burgers during your stakeouts, listened to comedy podcasts, and you even taught Jason how to use your camera. You hadn’t noticed how much you were devoid of laughter until you started spending time with Jason and laughing until your stomach hurt.

There was definitely a pull, and you noticed the looks Jason had given you. You wondered if this was okay. You knew he had a crush on you from before, but you didn’t expect for him to still like you right now. You didn’t want to lead him on. You couldn’t lead him on.

You were with Dick, after all.

You sighed loudly.

“You okay there?” Jason asked from the passenger seat, mouth full of french fries. You couldn’t find much illegal activity from Thorne’s phone, as you suspected, but you did get to know of his accountant. It made sense for Thorne to have a personal accountant to deal with the money flow. Now the both of you were staked out of Mrs. Eriksson’s house.

“Oh- sorry,” you hadn’t noticed that you let your shadow grow. You closed your eyes and reeled the darkness in.

“No, you don’t have to do that,” Jason protested, “We’re staking out in the car at 12 AM. Some darkness would be a great cover.”

He was right. You let yourself go.

“What’s on your mind?” he prodded.

You bit your lip in contemplation. Should you bring it up? Or should you just leave it be? Jason was a smart, grown, adult man. He didn’t need to be told the obvious, right?

What was the obvious anyway? That you didn’t have feelings for him before he died? That wasn’t true. That you got together with Dick in order to replace the emptiness he left? How did you feel about him now, that he was back?

“Dick said you used to have a crush on me,” you said.

“That damned snitch,” Jason cursed.

“To be fair to him, you were dead when he told me,” you assured, “Plus, it’s not like I didn’t know. You know I can read people.”

Jason shifted in his seat. He was wearing a long sleeved gray Henley that did nothing to hide his muscles. Unlike Dick, Jason rarely styled his hair. He let the fringes of his straight dark hair down in front of his eyebrows and would occasionally push his hair back with his fingers.

“Yeah, I know,” he was running his hand at the back of his head, messing up his hair further, “Yeah, I had a crush on you. So what?”

You turned towards him and leaned closer, trying to catch his expression in the dark. You tried his method of intensity, piercing his eyes with yours. “How about now?”

You saw the minute details of his microexpressions. He blinked once, his eyebrows drawn together, his eyes darted to the left and you noticed he clenched his jaw. Finally, he smirked and looked at you again.

“You’re the one who can read people. You tell me.”

You could have said that you noticed the way he tries his best to not reach out and hold your hand, the way his eyes dart from your eyes to your lips from time to time, how he couldn’t stop looking at you, how he licked his bottom lip when you leaned in close. You could have said that all that points to at least some level of attraction, and maybe even more. You could have said that maybe you caught yourself doing those things too.

Instead, you said, “Anna Eriksson’s light switched on.”

You both turned towards the house and waited. Anna Eriksson was a wife and a mother of two. She exited her town house and unlocked her car, her long straight platinum blond hair held high in a ponytail.

“Finally, some action,” Jason said excitedly.

You tailed her dark sedan expertly until it slowly came to a stop beneath a complexity of overpasses in southwest of Old Gotham heading to Tricorner Yards. You drove a few blocks away further down the road and turned into an alley and parked the car. You could still see Eriksson from the zoom lens of your camera.

“I wanna see too,” Jason whined.

“You should have brought binoculars,” you rolled your eyes. “Really, aren’t you all a family of vigilantes? To think you’d be more prepared.”

Eriksson was leaning against her vehicle. Dressed in an all black pants-suit and smoking a cigarette, you thought she looked pretty cool.

“Oh, another car is coming,” you told Jason.

Another black sedan arrived and stopped right in front of Eriksson. You started snapping pictures.

“Who is it?” Jason demanded.

“Fucking hell,” you swore in surprise. The short, bald and overweight man who wore the tophat was known to anyone in Gotham. “It’s fucking Cobblepot.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Jason crossed his arms. “Kinda anti-climactic to be honest. Such a predictive plot.”

You ignored Jason and kept snapping photos. Oswald Cobblepot, the wealthiest criminal of Gotham City wobbled towards Eriksson and passed her a briefcase. Jason was right that it wasn’t surprising because it probably was not Cobblepot’s first play in politics. The exchange itself was brief, where Cobblepot said a few words to Eriksson who was nodding intently. Then, both of them left.

After tailing Eriksson back to her house, you called it a night and drove away.

“I wonder what the deal is,” you pondered out loud.

“Probably if Thorne becomes mayor, he would have Cobblepot’s funding in exchange for immunity in the underground,” Jason answered.

“But why Thorne and not Hill? What does Thorne have that Hill doesn’t?”

“Control over Gotham’s largest shipping company?” Jason offered.

“That may be it. We need more evidence,” you concluded. “Drop you off at yours again?”

Jason was staying in an apartment in East End on Kitt Street. You haven’t been inside, and he has not invited you in. You didn’t ask.

***

“Stake out with Jason again?” Dick’s voice made you jump.

You had just reached home and Dick was still in his Nightwing suit sans the mask.

“Yeah,” you walked over to him, “Found out Cobblepot is sponsoring Thorne.”

“Kinda expected, huh?” he smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist. “We found some blackmarket items at Dixon Docks the other day in Triton shipping containers. You think that’s related?”

“Definitely,” you agreed, “Just gotta get evidence. But enough about work, how are you?”

“Better now that you’re here,” he leaned in to kiss you.

“You’re all sweaty,” you half-complained as he started down your neck.

“You didn’t complain the first time,” he smirked, “Or the second, or the third, or the-”

“Okay, I get it,” you giggled.

He kissed back up to your lips and settled on a slow, gentle pace. He broke the kiss and said “Get in the shower. I’ll be there soon.”

Your eyes widen at his command and you immediately head to the bathroom and took off your clothes. The water temperature was just right and you stepped in and sighed, washing off the fatigue of the day. A pair of hands snaked around your waist from behind and Dick got wet with you.

He pressed himself against you and you could feel his hardening cock heavy on your back.

“Dick,” you whimpered, grinding your ass on his length.

“Nuh uh,” he teased, “Gotta clean you up first.”

He reached for the body wash and started lathering up soap on you. His strong fingers gently rubbed and slid on your body, down your tummy, in between your legs. “Dick,” you whined.

His fingers parted your lips and found your clit, immediately circling and putting just the right amount of pressure. He knew your body almost better than you knew yourself. All the times he experimented with you and pleasured you meant he knew which buttons to tease and which to push.

“Need- you,” you panted at him.

“Hold onto the wall,” he instructed. You pressed both your palms against the wet tiles and bent over. His hands were placed on your hips to give you support. You trusted that he would not let you fall. This wasn’t the first time you had shower sex with him after all.

“Fuck,” you moaned when you felt him fill you up to the brim. You were familiar with his cock, and how he liked to still inside you after the first push, to get you adjusted to his size but also to tease you. You got yourself ready for what was to come.

He slid out, and with the strong grip on your hips, he fucked you hard back on his cock, forcing the air out of your lungs. You never had time to scream when he was like this with you, because he would pummel into you relentlessly. All you could manage was eyes rolled into the back of your head, and an open wide ‘O’.

In no time at all, you came, and he still fucked you while you got down from your high before pulling out to finish on your ass. The water immediately washed away his cum. Dick was a silent lover, the only sounds he made were soft and quiet moans, a few gasps, and a small groan when he came.

You lost your grip and almost collapsed back onto him.

“You okay there, darling?” he held you up by embracing you in his arms.

“Mmm,” you hummed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckled and kissed your temple. “Let’s get you all dried up and tucked in.”

You laid on his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Your eyes were droopy.

“I’ll be going on a mission for a few days,” he informed you. “Leaving tomorrow night.”

“Oh,” you responded, slightly disappointed. “Batfamily or a team thing?”

“Team thing.”

Your chest squeezed.

“Will she be there?”

“Not sure.”

Liar.

“Jason will be there, though,” he added.

That surprised you. “Oh? How come?”

“I asked him if he wanted to do something with the others that didn’t involve Bruce or Tim,” Dick explained, “He agreed. I think it’d be good for him, don’t you?”

“The fact that he agreed means that he is trying his best,” you agreed, “I’m so proud of him.”

“I think spending all that time investigating with you helped him,” Dick said, “Like it was the first step to getting out of his rut, you know?”

“He didn’t even seem like he was in a rut when he was with me,” you wondered back, “I mean- I knew that he was struggling in general with the whole guilt and self-loathing. But I didn’t know he was completely cut off from everyone else.”

“Not completely,” Dick sighed, “But he might as well have been. He tries, though.”

You smiled. Jason always tried his best at anything. “How long will you be away for?”

“Just three or four days. We’re going somewhere south this time. Nothing too big. Bane sighting, so just a recon for now unless we hit something big.”

“Looks like I’ll be on my own for a while, then,” you thought out loud, “I think I’ll just send in my first round of evidence and report to my client. It’s just Thorne’s accountant that is linked to Cobblepot for now, so if they want a deeper investigation linking back to Thorne, they’ll have to wait a little longer while I figure it out.”

“Try not to stir up the pot too much with Thorne, please,” Dick insisted, “I know you can take care of yourself, but I also know you don’t want any attention. It’ll be harder to do future jobs too if everyone knew who you were.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you conceded. You were getting sleepy again. “I’ll figure it out without exposing myself. Considering that I’m high in demand right now means that I should start laying low.”

“They should pay you more,” he stated. “Sleepy? Goodnight, darling. I love you.”

Your eyes closed as you mumbled back a reply.

***

The days that went by were uneventful, but that meant that you had time to sit back and reset.

Dropping off the evidence and report at a different locker from the first, you now had to wait a day before Dick and Jason came back from their mission. You usually dealt with being alone well, but for some reason you felt a tension in your shoulders. This usually happened when Dick was on a mission that lasted more than a couple of days, and especially if she was involved.

Unpleasant memories gnawed at your mind, so you forced them away by reorganizing your case files, your liquor cabinet, and your wardrobe. These were basically the only things you had in Dick’s apartment. You didn’t get attached to things, so the clothes you owned were just the essentials based on occasion- for when you needed to be professional, for when you needed to dress up, for when you needed to seduce, and for the everyday casual. You noticed a lot of dark colors. Navy, midnight, dark brown. Those were the colors you felt most comfortable in. Muted, and in the shadows, where you felt like you belonged.

That was how you kept yourself busy until both of your boys came back. You were anxious and on edge even worse than before, your gut making you feel uneasy. Intuition was one of your strengths, and that made it easier for you to tell what other people are thinking.

Dick had texted you before he returned, a ritual of his. He would always let you know when he was on the way home, safe. A portion of the tension was relieved, but you still felt like a rubber band stretched and waiting to snap.

It was sunset when you heard the familiar jingle of keys muffled behind the door. You stood up from the sofa and straightened your clothes, ready to greet him.

When you saw his face, you gasped.

“Dick! What happened?” you rushed to your partner. He had a large bruise forming on his left cheekbone, spreading to his slightly swollen eyes. “I thought you said it was just a recon.”

He averted his eyes from yours as he closed the door. You went to the freezer to get an ice pack you always kept handy and went to press it on his face.

“I’m fine, really,” he tried to awkwardly smile.

“It’s not everyday you come back with a bruised face,” you worried, “Who managed to hit you? Bane?”

“No,” he couldn’t meet your eyes again. He took the ice pack from you and sat down on the sofa. You took a seat next to him.

“Then?” you persisted. “Tell me.”

Dick closed his eyes and sighed. “Jason did.”

“Jason? What do you mean Jason?” you questioned, perplexed. “Jason punched you in the face?”

He turned his head away from you. It was obvious based on his body language that he was extremely uncomfortable and was hiding information from you. You didn’t need to be a pro to tell that.

“Yeah.”

You blinked. “Dick. I want to hear everything.”

“Yeah, I know,” he replied quietly, “You should know.”

Silence.

“Well?” you probed.

“It was, uh, after the mission. Everything was done and everyone had packed. We were at HQ,” he began, still speaking quietly and averting his eyes. “I was in the living room with Kori. We were just talking.”

At the mention of her name, you now knew where this was going. You felt a heat creeping up your neck and settling in your cheeks, burning. Your heart started racing. Your chest tightened until it started to hurt. Suddenly, all the memories you wanted to push away came flooding back.

Her touch on his shoulder. His eyes lighting up at his phone. You mistaking his phone for yours and seeing her messages. You crying, him apologizing. Nothing has happened between us, he promised. They’re just text messages. We’re just good friends. She’s hardly even on Earth these days.

You bit your lip and turned away, eyes brimming with tears you did not want to let fall.

“…one thing led to another, and,” he continued, “We kissed. Only for a moment. It was less than a second, I swear. Jason walked in on us and he just- he flipped. He grabbed me and punched me in the face. Said a lot of nasty things to both of us. Roy had to break it up, or things would have escalated.”

You remained silent, not knowing how to respond, not knowing what to even feel.

“Darling?” he turned toward you this time to look at you. You were staring straight ahead. “I promise, it meant nothing. It hardly even counts as a kiss. Nothing happened after. I didn’t even say goodbye to her, I haven’t said anything to her after I left.”

You turned to him, now feeling something. Heat, and anger. How dare he.

“It was just a short kiss?” you asked.

“Yeah-“

“But it would have been longer if Jason had not interrupted,” you stated.

“W-what-“

“But it would have possibly led to more than just a kiss if it weren’t for Jason,” you monotoned.

“I… I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Then, Dick Grayson,” you stood up, “We are done.”

You stormed off to your room, Dick following behind you.

“Darling, please!” he called, “Let’s talk about this. Please.”

You grabbed your phone and sent a quick text to Jason.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you said coolly. You opened your closet and reached for your backpack.

“Where are you going?” he asked, eyeing your overnight bag.

“That’s none of your business,” you fumed, walking past him toward the door. “There are so many things I want to say to you right now, but I am not in the right mind, and I will end up saying things I will regret.”

“I deserve everything you say to me.”

“You self-pitying bastard!” you turned and roared at him, “How dare you use your own guilt on me. You manipulative piece of-“

You stopped in your tracks, trying so fucking hard to reel in your shadow, to control yourself. You counted backwards. Dick knew not to disturb you at this state.

With one last deep breath, you left.

***

coming over. be there in 30.

Jason had not expected that text from you so soon. He knew you would have found out eventually, because if Dick had the nerve to lie to you, then he would be the one to tell you. It must have been difficult for Dick to tell you the truth, Jason thought. But Dick must have weighed out his options. His older brother knew that lying would have made him looked worse because there was no way Jason was going to keep you in the dark about something like that.

He was worried. Any other man who was in love with you would have been happy to hear that you were coming to them teary and heartbroken by your boyfriend. Any other man would have taken advantage of your vulnerability.

But Jason genuinely did not want you to feel that kind of pain. He wanted to protect you, he wanted you to be happy. You were his best friend. Which was why he was so fucking angry with Dick. How dare he.

He waited outside by the road for you and saw your familiar black sedan pulling over. The next thing he knew, you were in his arms, sobbing into his shirt. He placed a hand on the back of your head, and the other on your waist.

“I know, sunshine, I know,” he whispered to you. The both of you just stayed there in that position for a while. The streetlights were on, and the working class were heading home for the day. Some stared, but quickly averted their eyes when Jason glared at them.

Once you calmed down a little, Jason guided you up to his apartment. “It isn’t much,” he said, anxious about you seeing his tiny place.

It was a single bedroom, with a small battered up sofa and an unplugged TV on the floor. The kitchen area consisted of a single stove next to a small sink with overhead cabinets. One lone fridge stood next to the stove, and a circular dining table with a plastic chair was placed in between the kitchen area and the living room. He hadn’t invited you in this whole time because he didn’t want you to see the sorry state of his current home.

“I haven’t had time to properly get furniture or like, decorate or anything,” he continued. Not like he thought that you were going to judge, but Jason was proper in that sense, where he felt like his guests needed to be comfortable. He did eventually want to do some interior designing, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to put in effort into a temporary space. He eventually would want to move to a bigger apartment.

“It’s fine, Jay,” you sniffled, moving towards his sofa to sit down. Jason gave you a glass of warm water and sat down next to you. “Thanks. Sorry to barge in on you like this.”

“You can barge in anytime, you know that,” he nudged you with his shoulder. “So, come on. Talk to me.”

You looked at him with large watery eyes, and a trembling lower lip. Jason’s heart broke for you.

“He told me why you punched him,” you started, “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“I would have done more,” he grit. Roy shouldn’t have stopped him.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“You already know what happened.”

“Not all of it,” you bit your lip, “He said that you were cursing at them. And Roy had to break it off.”

’You piece of shit, Grayson. What is wrong with you? Who do you think you are where you can do anything you want?’ Jason had said to a guilty looking Dick who was massaging his face after the punch. Starfire was next to him, silent. ‘Your whole Golden Boy persona was just to fool everyone around you, after all, huh? No wonder Barbara left you.’

‘Jason-’ Starfire had interrupted.

‘And you,’ he turned towards her. ‘You’re supposed to support other women, not sabotage them and tear them down.’

‘Don’t bring her into this, Jason,’ Dick defended, ‘You know her customs are different.’

‘Bullshit. You don’t get to use that as an excuse anymore. You’ve been here for what, a decade already? You know how we are. You can feel how we are. Time to stop fucking playing dumb, you’re not fooling me.’

‘Jason,’ Dick angrily stepped up to him, ‘Take a walk.’

‘How about you go fuck yourself, you cunt,’ Jason shoved him back, ‘Do you have any idea how long it took for her to trust anyone? Do you have any idea how much of a fucking asshole for you to be in order to hurt someone like her? You’re a fucking sham, Grayson. You’re a narcissist who manipulates people into doing whatever the fuck you want them to.’

‘What’s going on here?’ Roy had stepped in.

‘That’s what you did, didn’t you?’ he went on, ‘She was grieving, and one day she was crying and I bet you swooped in just to fuck her-’

‘You going to tell her, then?’ Dick had smirked. He had fucking smirked at Jason. ‘Isn’t this the perfect opportunity for you? You wanted her all along, right? So you’re going to tell her so she can finally see you as her knight in shining armor? Because whatever you did wasn’t working, trying to sweeten her up by calling her- what was it? Sunny, and Sunshine-’

Jason had it, then. He looked at Dick straight in the eye and-

“I spat at him,” he told you, omitting the rest. “Roy had to stop us then.”

“You didn’t,” you gasped. “Oh Jason, you really didn’t have to.”

“It just happened,” he said honestly, “Everything that happened, it was just instinct to me. I couldn’t let him get away from hurting you.”

You stared at him, and then tackled him into a bear hug.

“Jason, you’re the best,” you said into his chest. “I’m so glad I have you.”

Jason’s chest tightened with longing.

“I know, Sunny. I’m pretty awesome.”

You giggled.

Jason loved making you laugh.

“Could I stay here for a while?” you looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Just a week or two. I’m going to talk to the landlady and see if my old place is still available.”

“Stay as long as you like,” he smiled, caressing your hair.

“I’ll take the couch.”

“What? No. You take the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“I can’t take your bed,” you rolled your eyes at him, “This is your place. You’re doing me a favor.”

“I’m not letting my guest-” he booped your nose, “take the couch.”

“I’ll just sleep here then and you can’t do anything about it,” you insisted stubbornly.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Jason stood up without warning, and then grabbed you by the hips, lifting you up and throwing you onto his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“Jason- what the fuck!”

“I’m doing something about it,” he chuckled.

“Jason, put me down!” you slapped his back.

He carried you to his room and-

“Put you down? Okay,” he threw you onto his perfectly made king sized bed. He stood looking down at you with his hands on his hips and grinned triumphantly.

You pouted at him. “Fine. How about we both take the bed.”

Jason’s heart skipped a beat. “What? No.”

“There’s plenty of space for the both of us!” you argued. “And we used to have sleepovers all the time.”

“That was before!” he argued back, “We can’t share a bed now.”

“And why not?” you demanded.

“It’s inappropriate. You’re a girl, and I’m a guy.”

“It’s only inappropriate if you’re planning to do something inappropriate. Which you aren’t, are you?”

Jason felt heat in his cheeks and silently cursed himself for acting like a school boy.

“Of course not!” he huffed.

“Then there’s no problem, is there?” you gave him a smug look.

Jason silently scowled at you. “Fine.”

“Great, now I call dibs on the bolster.”

Jason didn’t bother arguing with you, because whatever you wanted, he knew he couldn’t say no.

***

In truth, you didn’t want to be alone.

It was funny how you were so used to being alone, and have always found comfort with your own company. Yet this time, the loneliness scared you. You didn’t want to be alone anymore, and Dick doing that to you triggered a kind of fear that you didn’t know existed.

A long time ago, Jason had made a joke about how sharing a room with you meant he could get better sleep since you made it dark and he didn’t need blackout curtains. You realized now that everything he said to you was a way to make you feel better about your shadow, even if you didn’t show any insecurity. He found little ways to let you know how much better it was with your shadow.

After dinner, which was just instant ramen and eggs that Jason had overcooked, the both of you watched a movie on your laptop in bed. Jason had fallen asleep halfway, and you suddenly felt bad for imposing on him. He must have been tired from the mission. You put your laptop away and layed next to him, attempting to fall asleep as well.

But there you were wide awake, suddenly hyper-aware of your own looming darkness around you and Jason’s back facing you. Dick was not your first, but he was your first serious partner. You really loved him, even then as you lay heartbroken.

Fighting back tears, you tried concentrating on Jason’s steady breathing.

He was breathing. He was alive. This time last year you were still mourning him, trying to move on by clinging onto Dick.

Was that what Dick was to you? Were you with him just so you could have an idea of how it would be like if you were with Jason?

Then why did this hurt so bad?

You woke up the next morning to Jason still sleeping next to you. His slight frown that was ever present relaxed slightly while he was asleep. You used to do this last time, too. Whenever you had sleepovers, you would observe him. How his lips were slightly parted, how he would bundle up in the sheets like a burrito. He hadn’t changed in that aspect.

Small scars littered his face, more than before. His eyelashes were slightly longer and darker, as were the circles under his eyes.

He stirred. You quickly turned to lie on your back.

“Hnggh,” he stretched and yawned, “Oh, you’re awake. Mornin’. Sleep okay?”

“Mhm,” you nodded and moved to get up, “How about you?”

“Not so good,” he rubbed his eyes and looked at you, “Someone was snoring super loud.”

“I do not snore!” you hit him with a pillow.

He laughed.

You cooked breakfast this time, scrambled eggs on toast while Jason waited. While you were eating with him, you asked, “Hey. Do you think you can come with me to Dicks’? I told him to pack up my stuff. It’s not much, but I’d like the company.”

***

Jason noticed you were biting your nails as you drove to Dicks’.

He felt bad for you in your anxious state, the interior of the car much darker than outside. He would have to keep a cool head while he was there, because it wasn’t about him. He was only with you for moral support.

You unlocked the apartment door with your key and turned the knob.

“Baby!” Dick approached you but paused when he saw Jason. “Oh, you’re here too.”

Jason raised an eyebrow.

“I told you not to be here, Dick,” you groaned. “Did you even pack up my stuff?”

“I did,” Dick followed you into your room, “But I wanted to talk.”

Jason let you and Dick have some space, but hovered closeby to make sure you were okay.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you shoved a box into Jason’s arms. “Could you help carry a couple of these? It’s not much, I promise.”

“Sure,” he mumbled back as you stacked another box on top.

“You can bring these to the car first?”

He glanced at Dick. “You going to be okay on your own?”

“I can take-”

“I know you can take care of yourself, but that’s not what I meant,” he said sternly.

You paused. “I’ll be alright. Thank you.”

He left and loaded the car. He walked back to the apartment.

“-you know how I felt about you. How I still feel about you,” Jason overheard Dick. He entered the apartment quietly to watch the two of you talk.

“No, I don’t. I have always felt insecure about her and you knew that. I always suspected that you guys weren’t actually over,” you put a box on the counter and crossed your arms at Dick, lips trembling.

“I’m really sorry that I made you feel that way,” Dick replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “But we were there for each other. We both mourned together. That’s not something I shared with anyone else.”

You turned away and glanced at Jason for a moment, who gave you a small encouraging smile.

He hated seeing Dick touch you the way he was.

“And I cared for you and stayed with you,” Dick continued, “Even though I knew that it wasn’t me that made you stay. Even though I knew the whole time you wished I was Jason.”

Jason saw a flash of anger in your eyes, and you slapped Dick’s hand away.

“Richard John Grayson,” you fumed.

Jason recognized the change of aura even though he had not felt it in years. Suddenly, the room grew dark, as if an eclipse were happening right outside.

“How dare you insinuate that I was thinking of another man while I was with you,” you growled, “How dare you think that I stooped that low. That you think I have no decency and dignity to do that to you, when you were the one who kept on running behind my back.”

Behind you, a darkness grew and grew, distorting the lighting in the room in impossible ways. Dick took a step back from you. This was what scared everyone else away from you.

But to Jason, this was one of the most beautiful forms he saw you as. A dangerous, powerful dark queen. He stared in awe at you, his heart racing because he forgot how much he loved seeing you like this. It was as if he had fallen in love with you all over again for the very first time.

Then, Jason remembered where you were, and he knew you would regret it if you were to accidentally cause any harm to Dick.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he stepped in, “The car’s all loaded and ready to go.”

Your eyes snapped back at Jason, and then darted towards Dick. There was a slight panic on your face before the room was bright again.

***

There was a specific kind of anxiety you felt when you feared judgment coming from someone you love, and whose opinions matter to you. You noticed that Jason had been sneaking worried glances at you as you drove back from Dicks’, and even as you both carried your things up to his apartment.

Was he wary of you now? You had lost control of your shadow for a moment when you were angry at Dick. Jason had snapped you back to reality, but you saw the look on his face. Eyes wide with shock and worry.

“I understand if you don’t want me to stay here anymore,” you said when the both of you finally put all your things down in Jason’s apartment. “I have money and I can find a place to stay.”

Jason crossed his arms at you. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” you hesitated, looking anywhere but his piercing gaze. Suddenly the peeling paint on the walls felt more interesting. “You saw what happened. I understand if you don’t want that kind of danger around you.”

“That kind of danger?” Jason repeated before realizing what you meant. He sighed and walked toward you, skipping past the boxes on the floor. Towering over you, he lifted your chin up with a finger. “Do you think I’m afraid of you?”

“You looked like you were…”

You saw his frustration. “Tell me, amongst the both of us, who here has actually hurt Dick?”

You blinked at him.

“You have this- this darkness, right? Do you think getting beaten to death, resurrected in some weird magic cartoonish toxic waste looking pit and then brainwashed wouldn’t affect me and make me have some kind of darkness as well? Between you and me, I have caused way more destruction than you have. Way more. Do you really think I’d be afraid of you?”

“Well- but- you don’t have this uncontrollable power that could hurt the people you love at any time!” you argued.

“Sunny, listen to what you’re saying!” he responded incredulously, “I literally tried my best to hurt the people I love. You have been trying your best to protect them. Haven’t you?”

You avoided his piercing gaze by looking away. “I guess.”

“So don’t be silly,” he booped your nose, “Put away your things and stay as long as you want. Make a grocery list to stock up the fridge, and maybe help decorate the place a little, huh?”

“Yeah, okay,” you smiled sheepishly at him. “But I don’t want to stay for long. Just until I get somewhere more permanent. There’s only one bedroom and you snore.”

“I do not!” he huffed as he helped pick a box of your clothes to bring to the room.

“Jason?” you called out. “Thank you.”

He shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”

The days flew by and you found it hard not to enjoy this new routine that you and Jason had built. It wasn’t dissimilar to Dicks’ as Jason also went out at night for patrol. The only difference was that he didn’t have a day job, which made you question how he could afford his bills and rent.

“I have my ways,” he simply replied when you brought up the subject. It was dusk on the eighth day you were there and he was armoring up for the night, double checking his weapons and gadgets.

“Are you still doing illegal nightly activities?” you asked.

“We’re a family of vigilantes,” he managed to give you a roll of his eyes before putting on his helmet. “Everything we do is illegal.”

You approached him and placed both your palms on either side of the shiny red metal helmet that were littered with scratches and scuff marks. You could hear his crackled breathing through the built-in voice changer.

“You know what I mean,” you said, rubbing off a mark where his brow should be.

A pause. “Yeah, I have some arrangements with some contacts. But it’s nothing that can harm anyone. No drugs or trafficking or anything. Some smuggling of rare goods. Antiques.”

“That’s good,” you smiled, “I’ve dabbled in some black market antiquities myself.”

“You have?” you heard the surprise in his mechanical walky-talky like voice.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, “For a client a couple years ago, and only for a few months. I enjoyed the research, but I find that investigating interpersonal relationships and people was more fulfilling. Which is why I try not to take cases that want me to help take down someone’s competitor. Unless it’s a whistleblower type, then it would be my number one priority.”

“How honorable,” he joked.

“Shut up, Darth Vader,” you laughed, then without thinking, tip-toed to place a peck on the cool metal. “Stay safe, Jay.”

He didn’t reply immediately, and the only thing you could hear was his breathing. The silence made you anxious. Perhaps you shouldn’t have done that?

“Good night, Sunny,” he finally said, and then left through the balcony.

***

It was 6 in the morning on the eleventh day you were staying at Jason’s house when he returned from his night out. His shoulders and neck ached, and he didn’t know whether he wanted to eat or sleep. But the thought of getting under the covers with you by his side helped him with his decision.

He climbed down the fire escape and jumped onto his balcony, avoiding the new potted plants you had gotten him just a few days ago. He slid open the door and started to take off his boots at the same time before pausing at the sight of his dining table.

You were asleep with your head rested on your crossed arms on the table, papers scattered everywhere. He made you promise that night before he left that you would sleep early and take it easy with your work, but since the published article and the following public statement from Thorne, you heard back from your client to go harder.

He took off his helmet and threw it on the sofa. Approaching you quietly, he tip-toed to the dining table and smiled softly. He contemplated carrying you to the room, but he knew he couldn’t pick you up without waking you up.

“Hey there, sleepy head,” he softly whispered and put a hand on your back. You stirred awake.

“Jason?” you mumbled, lifting your head up and blinking. “What time is it?”

“Just after six,” he answered. “Go to bed. Come on. I’ll join you in a sec, too.”

You nodded and yawned, then stumbled to the room. Jason held back a chuckle when he saw you sprawled on top of the sheets.

He washed up and looked at his own reflection in the foggy mirror. He frowned at the hideous scars on his body. Mostly old, some new ones. A bruise was forming across his left rib where he got punched the day before. He quickly put on his shirt, trying his best to hide his ugly body from you.

***

Your neck was stiff when you turned to your side and saw Jason sleeping soundly next to you. He was on his back, his head turned away to the other side. You watched as his chest rose and fell with every breath. You smiled to yourself when you remembered he had woken you up and made you sleep in bed. You needed to move out soon. You felt bad for taking up his space.

As you were watching him, you noticed out of the corner of your eye that his shirt rode up slightly, revealing his tummy that you knew were hard to the touch. You frowned at the faint scars that littered his skin. You had always liked that about him. Scars on a man was so badass, and you knew Jason was very very skilled at fighting. Those scars showed experience in hand to hand combat with multiple weapons and tools, something you respected.

Your eyes trailed down to his sage green shorts. It wasn’t your fault, you were just following his happy trail in that direction. Your eyes widen and you blushed at what you were seeing. Was… was he hard? No. Not fully. But still, you could see the loose fabric of his shorts stretch out and form the silhouette of his bulge. Your heartbeat quicken and you felt a familiar warmth at the base of your stomach.

Men often got hard when they slept, and contrary to popular belief, it sometimes did not have anything to do with spicy dreams. As their body phased into the rest and digest state, their heartbeat slows, their breathing deepens, and well, they get erections. So now you found yourself breathing hard through your nose at the sight of Jason’s chub, his semi-boner, his leaning tower of-

You closed your eyes.

You had a crush on Jason before, yes, but that was before your sexual awakening. You never had dirty fantasies of him. Just holding hands and kissing in the cinema. And when you were hanging out with him, perhaps you had forced those thoughts away since you were with Dick and would have felt bad for thinking of his brother that way.

But now there was nothing stopping your thoughts from running wild. You opened your eyes again, but looked upwards instead, to his neck stretched out and bare to you. Subconsciously, you licked your lips at the sight of his jugulars, the curvature of his well-developed SCM muscle that made you want to litter little love bites on-

You got ahead of yourself for the first time regarding Jason. And now that you have, you knew there was no way your overactive imagination was going to calm down everytime you looked at him.

You spent the next couple of hours outside on the sofa with your legs up and stretched, switching back and forth between reading a dirty novel to scrolling on your phone. Around 4 in the afternoon, Jason woke up and took a seat next to you with his own book and phone. You curled your legs to make room for him to sit, which he did, but then he took your calves and pulled your legs to rest on his thighs.

You tried hard to read the paragraph you were on. ‘His chocolate brown eyes burned into hers as she watched him crawl between her legs-’

Suddenly you felt the skin of your lower legs burn as Jason rested his forearms on them to read his book. You peeked at him from above your novel and saw his messy bed hair and frown and oh, God he was looking at you.

“What’re you reading?” you quickly blurted to cover up the fact that you were staring at him.

“Middle Eastern history,” he replied, “You?”

Oh, no. You hadn’t thought this far. “Oh. Just a novel.” You hid your face behind your book again.

You felt Jason shift closer to you. “Ooh, a romance novel?”

“Yes.”

He was leaning nearer to read the synopsis at the back. You quickly closed the book and glared at him.

“What’s wrong?” he chuckled, “I just wanted to see what it was about.”

“You wouldn’t like it anyway,” you crossed your arms.

“Or, you don’t want me to know you’re reading smut,” he grinned.

“Am not!” you huffed, putting your knees up in a fetal position, but with your back leaning against the sofa arm.

“I think I saw the word sexy and breathless there,” he teased, reaching out to grab the book from you.

In panic, you threw the book across the room. Jason’s eyes widened in shock at where the book landed. Then he looked at you. And then he burst out laughing.

“So it was smut!” he guffawed.

“Shut up!” you yelled.

He rested his chin on top of your knees and watched you. “Aww, you’re blushing!” he teased again, “No, no, don’t cover up your face, you’re cute when you blush!”

That made you blush even harder. You peeked at him through your fingers and saw that he was still resting his head on your knees with a massive grin on his face. “Don’t call me cute!”

His grin turned into a soft smile. “But it’s true.”

Now you felt like it was your eyes that were being burned into by Jason’s blue ones. His stare had always been so intense, even back when you were teens.

The both of you suddenly were staring at each other for what felt like eons. Suddenly you felt awkward, and you broke eye contact.

“Anyway,” you looked away and got up to a proper sitting position, causing Jason to resume his as well, “What’s for dinner? Wanna go out? I feel like going out.”

You couldn’t bear to be in close proximity with him any longer. You felt like you were going to explode into flames.

“Oh, finally leaving the rabbit hole of old corruption cases, are you?” he retorted.

“You can’t blame me, Jay,” you pouted, “Didn’t you read what they said! It was so infuriating. I would have preferred if they came up with a lie instead.”

After sending your client the photos of Thorne’s accountant meeting up with Oswald Cobblepot, the article made the front page of Gotham Gazette, the author under a pseudonym. The relationship between a well known criminal and the mayoral candidate’s accountant was reported along with the photo you took. There was an uproar on social media and a press conference. Two days after that, another report.

Thorne basically didn’t bother to cover anything up but denied it with a smirk on his face, ridiculing the journalist. Whoever wrote that he had said, has been skulking old internet forums full of conspiracy theorists- and probably has seen one too many YouTube videos on Photoshop. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were a Flat Earther. However, I must express my disappointment in Gotham Gazette. I thought they were a proper news source and not a tabloid magazine.

Along with his smile, charm, and wit, his statement won over everyone again. The next day you received another text promising even more money if you get concrete evidence, bank and witness statements, audio or video recording, or official documents from legitimate sources incriminating Thorne.

“I get it,” Jason nodded, “And the offer for help is still up.”

Jason had suggested breaking into his home.

“I know. When the time comes, Jay. Not now. I still need to piece some things together. And his security is tight. We might need another method.”

“Just let me know when, and I’ll drop everything to help you,” he said seriously. Before you could protest, he continued. “All this Middle Eastern reading makes me want shawarma before going out tonight. I have a… business meeting.”

“Antiquities?” you asked.

“Yeah, some stone inscription.”

“Can I tag along?” you inquired excitedly. “I need to take a break from the cases and come back with a fresh perspective. Only if you’re okay with it. I know there’s probably some hierarchy thing going on.”

“Hierarchy thing?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you’re the boss man aren’t you?” you poked him. “You can’t just bring some girl to a business meeting.”

“Because I am the boss man, I can do whatever I want,” he shifted towards you and booped your nose. “And you’re not just some girl.”

You looked away to hide the creeping blush again. What was wrong with you?

“Anyway, sure you can tag along.”

“Yay!” you got up and grinned. “Let me find something to wear.”

You dug through your box of clothes and found black tights, a form fitting black jersey jacket and a black mask that covered your mouth. This was what you usually wore when you had to sneak around.

“Uh,” Jason scratched his head, “No. Wait, turn around.”

You obliged.

“Yeah, no,” he stated, “That material is too thin. Do you have a kevlar vest or something?”

You frowned and went to dig up your old kevlar vest from another box.

“Perfect!” he clapped, “No, hold on. Here.”

He forced you into his oversized black hoodie over the bulky vest. “Now it’s perfect.”

“Jason, I look so chonky!” you complained. “Why can’t I be cool and stylish like you?”

“Because my outfit is already bullet-proof,” he said smugly, “You need to be protected just in case. Now stop pouting and wait here while I change.”

After the both of you got ready, he took you down to another alley into a garage he bought and revealed his 1969 Chevrolet Impala.

“We’re not taking your bike?” you asked, slightly disappointed. You sat in the passenger seat and heard him turn on the engine, the loud rev making you jump.

“We have precious cargo,” he explained.

“Oh, right! The slab,” you facepalmed.

“That, too,” he smirked, “But I was talking about you.”

***

You noticed that Jason changed his body language when he was in Red Hood mode. He stood up straight with his head held high, asserting dominance in the way he walked and moved. You would be lying if you didn’t think it was hot.

“As promised,” the tall and slender man with olive skin and dark facial hair said with his heavy accent. “6th century Byzantine inscription.”

He opened a heavy duty black metal briefcase that showed a gray stone slab with carvings on its surface. You were next to Red Hood, who took a closer look and nodded at you to come closer.

Upon better observation, your eyes widen. No… It could not be.

“Is your consultant satisfied?” the man asked.

Red Hood had introduced you as his consultant in Middle Eastern antiquities for a second opinion. You nodded at him curtly.

“Yes, she is satisfied. As am I,” his distorted voice agreed, “Here is four hundred thousand. As promised. You did well, Malik.”

“Thank you, sir,” he nodded, taking the duffel bag of cash that Red Hood had handed to him.

The both of you exited the dark building where Malik was running his business next to a dodgy law firm and got into the car.

“Jason!” you immediately squealed as he turned the engine on. “How much are you selling that for to the auctioneer?”

“A Byzantine slab would go for eight hundred, probably,” he shrugged.

“Jason, that’s not a Byzantine slab! That’s the ancient Sabaean alabaster stone inscription from the third century. Its last known location was at an auction in Paris, but it originates from The Awwam Temple in Yemen-”

You didn’t finish your sentence because you had noticed Jason’s body language. He hadn’t reacted to you at all. “You knew what it was.”

“Of course I did,” he said. And even though his whole head was covered, you knew he had that smug smirk on his face.

“And you let Malik think it was Byzantine,” you stated, “Because, of course. If he had an inkling of what it was, the price would have went up.”

“You knew what it was too, and you let Malik believe it,” he shrugged, “Proud of you, Sunny, my little con artist.”

Jokingly, he patted you on the thigh to commend you. It was only a few seconds, yet your heart had started racing.

“Who is this auctioneer? Does he know what he’s getting?” you quickly tried to distract yourself.

“Harry Willowman,” Jason replied, “He thinks he is getting a sixth century Byzantine slab, and he is going to try to get away with buying it for less than what it’s worth.”

“Willowman,” you repeated to yourself.

“You know him?” Jason made a right turn into a large estate.

“I’ve dealt with him a few times in the past, but it was a while back. I don’t think he would remember me.”

“Would it be bad if he did?” he inquired, driving the car to a stop in front of the large mansion.

“We’ll just have to see.”

It was weird, going up to a mansion and ringing the doorbell, as if it wasn’t three in the morning, as if you weren’t wearing a kevlar vest underneath the atrociously large hoodie, and as if you weren’t accompanied by the six foot something vigilante wearing a red motorcycle helmet.

You were greeted by the butler, because of course these people had butlers, and the interior really did remind you of Wayne Manor in its classical finishing, but this place had many more things.

From vases and pots, to paintings and tapestry, to old cabinets and random statues of forgotten Gods and Goddesses, the hallway into Willoman’s office itself already looked like a museum. The butler, an old man about sixty years of age, led you up the marble staircase to the second floor and knocked at the first door, the largest.

“Come in,” said the muffled voice behind it.

Red Hood entered first, and you followed behind him.

“Red Hood,” Harry Willowman acknowledged, “And you brought company.”

Harry Willowman was an Englishman in his mid-forties, and was wearing a beige waffle sweater and khaki slacks. His salt and pepper hair was styled back, and he was as handsome as you remembered.

“This is my associate. She is my consultant during exchanges to make sure items are what they say they are.”

Harry leaned forward from his leather chair to get a closer look at you and frowned. “Have we met before?”

“No time for introductions. Here’s your slab.”

Red Hood set the case on Harry’s heavy wooden desk. Harry proceeded to click the locks open. “Ah, my Byzantine-”

You noticed the way his eyes sparkled just for a moment when he saw what was inside.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, “This is a beautiful Byzantine specimen. I shall offer you eight hundred for it, like we promised.”

“Ah, but you see, Mr Willowman,” Red Hood protested politely, “We agreed eight hundred for a Byzantine inscription.”

“And you brought me a Byzantine inscription,” Harry acted confused.

Red Hood turned to you and nodded. You knew what he meant.

“Red Hood will take no less than two million dollars for the third century Sabaean alabaster stone inscription,” you said curtly.

Harry raised an eyebrow at you, and proceeded to laugh. “My dear, you don’t think this is the inscription from Awam Temple? The script here is clearly Koine.”

“I am not your dear,” you snapped, “And Koine is a Hellenistic script. As you can see here, it is clearly Middle Persian, or more specifically Sabaean. Some Parthian scripture has Hellenistic influence, but Sabaic specifically, since it is derived from ancient Aramaic, utilizes mater lectionis- a common variable in Semitic languages. Not Hellenistic.”

Harry stared at you in wonder, but then his eyes narrowed, and a smirk appeared on his lips. “I couldn’t recognise you with that ridiculous outfit you have on, Jade. Whatever happened to the tight leather?”

You clenched your jaw. “Two. Million.”

“Downings,” Harry called to his butler, “Fetch our friends here four of those bags, will you? Turns out one of them is an old associate.”

The room was suddenly tense. You could almost feel Red Hood next to you, coiled up and ready to spring.

“Jade The Judge,” Harry recited again, “What a surprise. How did you get her out of her little hiding hole, Red?”

“I don’t make comments about her outfit,” Red Hood snarkily replied.

Harry laughed. “No, Red, you don’t get it. You didn’t see Jade when she was in her prime. What was it that people used to say? When Jade The Judge walks, darkness follows. People used to be terrified of her. But I was completely infatuated. She left as swiftly as she arrived. But we used to have some fun didn’t we, Jade?”

You felt an icy cold shiver run down your spine in disgust. It was before Dick, when you were still mourning Jason.

You noticed Red Hood’s fists clench.

Before anyone could say anything, the butler arrived with four briefcases, struggling to juggle them in his arms.

“You’ll find that every dollar is accounted for,” Harry explained, the mischievous twinkle in his eye still ever present. “Because I know you will have my head if any small amount is missing.”

You picked up two briefcases, and Red Hood picked up the other two. Without saying any goodbyes, the both of you turned and left the room, but not without hearing Harry’s voice in the distance calling out to you. “I’m looking forward to more leather tights, Jade!”

The ride back home was silent. Jason drove into the garage and parked, taking off his helmet. The both of you walked to Jason’s apartment, and upon entering, you took off your mask, the hoodie, and the uncomfortable vest.

Before anything else was said, you quickly blurted out. “We did.”

Jason turned to you with his eyebrows raised. “Hmm?”

“Harry and I. We slept together. A few times. It was a long time ago,” you shuffled your feet. For some reason, you felt like you were a deer caught in the headlights of a car. You didn’t know why you were confessing this to Jason, and you didn’t know why you felt such shame doing so.

“I wasn’t going to ask,” he came up to you and smiled softly.

“I know, but you were thinking it.” Tears were brimming. “It was before Dick, when I was mourning you still. I was in a very dark place, and I was reckless for the sake of being reckless.”

Jason then frowned. “Does he know your real identity?”

“Oh, God, no!” you shook your head furiously, “I had my mask on, or it would have been in the dark.”

“Why are you telling me this?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” you looked down at your feet. “I figured I might as well get it out of the way.”

“Well, thank you for telling me,” he replied. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you forced a smile. “Go shower first. I need a drink.”

You downed a shot of vodka and took a long, deep breath. After a while, you heard the shower turn off in the room. You head to the shower.

You opened the door to Jason’s room and was greeted with him shirtless with only his sweatpants on. He was drying his hair with his towel, but droplets of water fell onto his skin, running down his body. You gulped and blushed before saying “Oh my God! I’m so sorry!”

Jason’s eyes widen when he realised you were there. “Sunny! No! I’m sorry. Fuck! Let me put on a shirt real quick.”

He rushed to his closet and put on his shirt, but not before you caught a glimpse of his toned back muscles flexing with movement. Fuck.

“I’m really fucking sorry,” Jason said.

“What? Jason, no. I’m the one who intruded. I’m sorry, I know you’re shy,” you exasperatedly tried to calm him down. But Jason looked like he was in pain.

“No. I know how fucking disgusting my body is. You weren’t meant to see it. Sorry.”

You were shocked into silence. He was standing in front of you, but his head turned away.

“Jason,” you gently approached him, “Who told you that?”

“No one,” he denied, “But I know how I look, and I don’t want you to have to see that shit.”

“Oh, Jason,” you sighed. “I don’t find you disgusting at all.”

“You don’t have to be nice,” he grit, “I saw you looking.”

Suddenly, you felt the familiar heat creep up to your cheeks. “I- uh, I. I was looking. Yes. I was. But not because I think you’re disgusting. I was- uh. I was… admiring…you…”

“What?” he frowned.

“Look,” you gathered your courage and pierced his eyes with yours. “I’ve seen your scars, yes. And the way I see it, your scars means you are a skilled fighter. All those lessons learned. All that experience. I wish I had your skills. But I just have this stupid shadow. So I respect it. I respect your scars, and your body, and you.”

Jason was still quiet. You could almost see the gears in his head turning as he contemplated on your words.

“And,” you decided to come out with it. “I think. That. Your body. Is. Superhotorwhatever.”

Now you were blushing furiously, but was still watching Jason’s expressions. His frown subsided, and then the corner of his lips twisted upwards in a smirk. “You think I’m hot?”

“Ugh, I should not have said that,” you groaned and turned to walk away.

“No, no, tell me more about how you like my body,” Jason laughed.

“Stop!” you whined, “I’m going to shower.”

“Wait,” he stopped you in your tracks. “Thank you. Really. I wouldn’t have believed you if you hadn’t been blushing.”

“Go away!” you ran to the bathroom and closed the door on Jason chuckling at you.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, processing the day, the night, and the feelings that you felt since the day before. You groaned to yourself when you hit the realization.