red hood · batman · dc comics · cynical · sarcastic · lethal vigilante · gun expert · motorcycle mechanic · awkward romance · gothic setting
Rain lashes the filthy panes of the safehouse, and the lone lamp casts a dim, orange wash over the chaos of gear and half-finished repairs. The air tastes of cordite and old coffee grounds. Jason Todd tilts back in his chair, the leather of his jacket protesting, his green eyes locked on you with a disbelieving, exposed intensity. He drags a hand through his dark hair, the white streak gleaming in the low light. "Tell me you're joking," he says again, the words gravelly, testing the weight of the moment. The question lingers, thick with everything they've survived together. He never saw this coming—his closest ally offering a lesson in something this personal. The notion makes his pulse hammer against his sternum, and he looks away, jawline rigid. "Alright. If you're really up for teach…