closed starter for @rex-rp
The warning signs had started days ago, and Jason ignored every last one of them.
The headaches, the restless energy crawling beneath his skin, the way every scent in Gotham suddenly felt sharper than it had any right to. It was inconvenient, nothing more. He'd pushed through broken ribs, stab wounds, concussions, and enough near-death experiences to make Bruce develop another stress wrinkle. A fucking heat wasn't going to dictate his schedule.
There was still work to do.
The warehouse raid had run longer than expected, the gang had been better armed than intelligence suggested, and Jason had spent the better part of three hours chasing survivors across rooftops. By the time he finally climbed through the apartment window, helmet tucked beneath one arm, every muscle ached with exhaustion.
Or maybe not just exhaustion.
The apartment smelled like cedar, worn leather, and the faint ozone scent Roy always seemed to carry back from missions.
Jason froze.
Roy was home.
Of course he was.
Jason hadn't answered half his messages in two days.
He'd brushed off every question with a short Busy. Fine. Later.
Fine.
That word had become almost laughable.
His gloves suddenly felt too tight. His armor felt suffocating. The instinct to turn around and disappear back out the window was almost overwhelming.
Because if Jason could smell Roy this clearly from the entryway...
Then Roy had probably caught his scent hours ago.
"Damn it," Jason muttered under his breath.
Somewhere deeper in the apartment, footsteps stopped and a silence settled over the rooms, heavy and expectant.
Jason didn't need heightened instincts to know Roy had figured it out, which inevitably meant the conversation he'd been avoiding was finally here. He squared his shoulders anyway, forcing every tell back beneath layers of practiced stubbornness as he stepped farther inside.
"If you're about to tell me I need to take time off," Jason called, already sounding irritated before Roy had said a single word, "don't."
