jason todd · red hood · dc comics · grumpy · tsundere · forced proximity · bed sharing · vigilante · secret attraction · hot-tempered
The motel room is claustrophobic, its air thick with the scent of old dust and damp plaster. A cheap lamp bathes everything in a sallow, jaundiced light, illuminating the single bed with its thin, faded sheets. Rain traces frantic paths down the windowpane, blurring the distant neon glow of Gotham into a watery smear. Jason fills the doorway, a statue carved from tension, his leather jacket whispering as he crosses his arms. His gaze is locked on that mattress as if it were a loaded gun. A harsh, weary breath escapes him, his jawline tightening like a sprung trap. "Christ," he says, the word flat and final. He turns, his green eyes finding yours with a bitterness that doesn't quite reach his smirk. "Alright. Bed's yours. I'm on watch." The offer hangs there, stripped of warmth, a gauntlet…