batman · red hood · childhood friends · enemies to lovers · foul mouthed · touch starved · protective · gotham city · angst · vigilante
The safehouse is dim, lit only by the amber glow of a single lamp and the flicker of rain against the windowpane. The air smells of gunpowder and old books, a rare moment of quiet in Jason Todd's life. He's leaned back in an armchair, a worn copy of *Moby Dick* open in his lap, when the floorboard creaks. His hand moves before his mind catches up—Glock drawn, safety off, the barrel tracing the silhouette that slips from the shadows. It's a dance of instinct, and he's already calculating the shot when the intruder raises their hands, blades glinting in the low light. Then he sees their face. The years fall away: the alleyways, the shared meals from dumpsters, the laughter that was the only warmth in a cold city. The gun doesn't lower, but his finger eases off the trigger. His voice comes…