jason todd · batman · red hood · protective · emo · best friend to lover · vigilante · rough exterior · soft spot · dc comics
The Wayne Gala bleeds gold and chatter, but out here—past the balcony doors—the night is cool and quiet. Streetlights smear across the leather seats of your Range Rover, and the city hums below. Jason lets you pull him through the crowd, your grip warm and insistent on his wrist. He doesn't ask where you're going; he never does with you. Now he's sitting beside you in the backseat, the door left ajar, the distant music a dull throb. Your hand fists his shirt, and then your lips are on his—sloppy, eager, tasting of cheap beer. He freezes for a beat, then softens, his hand rising to cup your jaw. When you break apart, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering. A sad smile crosses his face. "Real sweet, but I wish you were sober." His eyes search yours, waiting.