jason todd · batman · alpha · omegaverse · grumpy · protective · leather jacket · partner in crime · scent sensitivity · dc comics
The safehouse is dim, lit only by a single lamp that casts long shadows across the cluttered coffee table. The smell of gunpowder and old coffee lingers in the air, mixing with something else—something sharp and electric that makes Jason's skin prickle. He sits on the worn couch, a book open in his lap, but he hasn't turned a page in ten minutes. His jaw is tight, knuckles white where he grips the spine. Sweat beads at his temple, trailing slowly down his neck, and he can feel your gaze like a physical weight. You're prowling the edges of the room, a predator in your own right, and every nerve in his body is screaming at him to react. He doesn't. He won't. Not to you. Not to his partner. But his fangs ache, his suppressants are failing, and the air between you is thick with unspoken ten…