#day3

Punctuated by the gentle turning of pages. The soft scrape of paper as you read the book within your hands. 

Settled comfortably on your couch, a blanket sprawled across your lap. 

And at your feet by the end of the couch, your faithful dog Bennett laid. Curled up and resting. His ears twitching with each rumble and roar of lightning that crackled from above. 

Bennett had been in your life for well over a year now. 

For almost as long as Jason had been in yours. 

Jason. 

Your sweet boyfriend who you had met all by chance. A crossing of paths that almost never was. 

It was strange to think about. 

It almost felt like those things you would read between the pages that lined your shelves. 

But it happened. 

And it was real. 

In times when you never thought he’d show. When you thought he would flake out on you, like so many of the men you had been with before.

He didn’t. 

He always showed. 

And he kept showing up for you. 

Again. 

And again. 

Considerate and kindly. 

You peeled back each layer around his heart before it soon became yours to keep. Yours to cherish. Yours to protect. 

There were boxes still strewn about the apartment. Yet to be unpacked. 

Boxes that contained his belongings. 

A symbol that your lives were intertwining more and more together. 

Bennett’s head lifted at the faint clink at the door, the jangle of keys as the door knob turns. 

Lifting from his spot, he moves to the door as it opens. 

“Hey boy,” Jason’s voice carries through the air, as you plop your book down on your lap. 

Turning slightly to watch, as Jason kneels down to scratch at Bennett’s ear fondly, as his tail wags. 

“You’re back early,” it was barely 11 when he had walked through the front door. 

“I had Dick take over the case for me,” he replied, words soft as he lifts his gaze to meet yours. “Besides, it was quiet tonight” 

At the very least. 

Quiet by Gotham’s standards. 

“Well I’m happy to have you,” you said with a smile. 

Moving slowly as he pulls his shoes off to place them by the door, hanging his jacket up to dry upon a hook. 

He leans down to press a kiss upon your temple, feeling his lips curl up. 

“You having a nice night so far?” He mumbled against your forehead. 

“It’s better now that you’re here,” Humming softly in delight, eyes fluttering closed. 

His eyes glance up at the clock on the wall, pulling back slightly. You whine ever so softly, missing the sweetness of his kisses. 

He leans back down to catch your lips with his. His chapped lips gentle as they move against yours. Lingering for just a few moments more.

Before pulling away once more, “I’ll be right back,” He moves towards the kitchen. 

Flicking the kettle on as the gentle clink of cups can be heard. 

And just as quickly as he had left, he was soon settled by your side once more, a steaming cup of tea within his grasp as he handed it to you. 

Blinking in surprise you tilt your head towards him, “How’d you know I was wanting a tea?”

He only shrugs as he replies, “You normally have a tea at this time” 

Saying it as if it were only natural he knew.

As though it were obvious. 

An unmissable detail. 

But to you. 

It meant everything.

It was another he showed he cared. 

It was another reason you knew he loved you. 

Considerate and kind all at once. 

Making your heart melt once more. 

“You keeping tabs on me or something?” you teased. 

“Something like that,” his eyes softened as he gazed at you. 

He settles by your legs, as he lifts them only to rest them on his lap. While Bennett jumps onto the couch beside Jason, nestling himself by his side. 

You pluck the book left in your lap, only to extend it to him, batting your lashes sweetly. 

Knowing he wouldn’t say no.

“Do you think you could read it for me, you know, while I drink my tea?” 

Letting out a soft chuckle, he takes the book from your hands, 

“As if I could say no to you”

Cheekily you remark, “Ohh, wouldn’t go giving that information out so willingly. Unless you want your family to know you’ve gone soft”

“I think they’d understand”

He lifts the book and starts to read. 

Words enter the air, soft and rich. As decadent as the sweetest honey. 

While the wind blows and the rain hammers down. 

In here you are at peace. 

In here there is comfort. 

Calm. 

In here.

You are exactly where you want to be. 

Soothed by Jason’s presence. 

And overcome by his endless love for you. 

Hope you enjoyed this little fic. Just a bit of comfort and fluff with Jason Todd (also I’m picturing a German Shepard for Bennett but really the cute dog could be any breed you like, the name is based off of Pride & Prejudice) ♥️ and the start of me dabbling in a bit of domaystic

The first time Levi makes a second cup of tea, it almost doesn’t register to you at all. You could easily think it’s another soundless evening that’s part of the rhythm that’s somehow been arranged here, in his apartment, in his space, where everything has its place and nothing exists without intention, least of all tea.

Levi, with his sleeves pushed up, is moving through the kitchen, the kettle already coming to a boil before you’ve completely sat on the couch. You look at him, chin in your hand, and you don’t think anything of it when he takes two cups instead of one. You think, maybe he’s just cleaning them as your eyes drift back to the television.

He doesn’t say anything when he sets one of them in front of you. You look down at it, then up at him. He’s already turned away.

“Thanks,” you say, a little unsure, fingers wrapping around the warmth anyway. 

He hums, barely acknowledging it. You don’t question it.

,

The second time it happens, you definitely notice.

Definitely not right away at first—but halfway through the motion, when he reaches into the cabinet without looking and pulls out the same two cups again, like it’s muscle memory now. You sit up a little straighter, watching him more closely this time.

You hadn’t asked. You don’t always drink tea when you’re here. Sometimes you forget. Sometimes you’re distracted. Sometimes you just sit beside him and you exist together in silence. 

But he still pours two cups and sets one in front of you without a word. Steam spirals from the surface. You stare at it for a second longer than you should.

Is this… new?

“Drink it before it gets cold,” Levi mutters from the kitchen, not even turning around.

You huff softly under your breath. “Bossy,” you murmur, but you lift the cup nevertheless. It tastes exactly the way you like it. You don’t comment on that either.

.

Eventually, the whole thing becomes habitual.

You come over, take off your shoes, make yourself comfortable in your usual spot, and before you can even think about asking, before the thought even forms, there it is—a second cup. Waiting. You don’t even remember the last time he didn’t make one for you. 

The thought drifts through your mind one evening as you really watch him this time, how he measures everything without looking, how he times it just right, how his movements are always sure. He doesn’t ask if you want tea. He just makes it, like you belong here enough that it doesn’t need to be said out loud.

You don’t know what comes over you, but you think you fall a little harder for him.

.

Tonight, it happens again.

You barely make it through the door before he’s already in the kitchen, already reaching for the kettle. You lean against the wall this time, arms loosely crossed, watching him with a small tilt to your head. He doesn’t look back.

“Staring won’t make it boil faster,” he says flatly.

You smile a little. Caught.

“I’m not staring,” you lie easily.

He doesn’t respond. He probably doesn’t believe you. You watch him reach for the cups. He takes two. You want to say something, but you hesitate just for a second. You don’t want to make it weird. The words slip out anyway.

“You always make two.”

Levi pauses just for a second—a pause that would be barely noticeable to anyone else—but you see it, the smallest hitch in his movement before he continues like nothing happened. “You’re always here,” he says, like that’s enough explanation. Is it really that simple? 

He brings the cups over, places one down in front of you on the counter like he always does. You pick it up, feeling the warmth seep into your skin. Levi guides you toward the couch with a tilt of his head and you both sit down, close enough that your shoulders almost touch.

Neither of you say anything else. You don’t need to.

Because the tea is already made. And there are already two cups.

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