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Jason would like to say that the broken leg barely slows him down, but he’d be a lying jackass if he tried. None of them are any good at being benched, and Jason knows he’s not actually the worst at it out of his family (that excellent honor goes to Dick ‘I’m an acrobat so I just don’t have to use that limb’ Grayson), but after the first week it starts to really feel like he is. He’s got crutches, and he can more or less get around the house, but Roy starts to give him worried looks if he stays on his single working foot for too long, and grudgingly he admits that underneath the slight haze of the good painkillers it does start to hurt if he tries anything he shouldn’t.
That, and pretty much his whole world consists of their bed and the couch in the living room, and comfortable as he made sure those two pieces of furniture are, he’s sick of not being able to move. Sick of not being able to do anything really strenuous in the gym even though he can, thankfully, reach it. Sick of it being a struggle to reach Roy’s sub-level workshop. Sick of having to send other people out to do the footwork that he wants to do himself.
Solving cases and finding clues in pieces of paper and data files is something that gets tiring fast when he can’t take the next step and actually go out and catch the bastards like he wants to.
Roy’s… good about it. They’ve both been injured before, but this is the first time it’s really compromised and Jason knows he hasn’t been the best patient. In fact, he’s sure that he’s been a stubborn, irritating ass of a patient. Not staying still like he should, not being real interested in more than sleeping close, since just about anything involving his lower half (where all the fun shit is) tends to hurt long before it can get anywhere interesting. He’s grouchy, and he’s aiming his frustration where it’s not deserved, and thankfully Roy gets it.
Apart from one swat to the side of his head when he made a particularly bitchy comment anyway. Well, that one he deserved. He deserved more, actually, but Roy is patient and continues to be more than Jason really thinks life owes him.
Between the increasingly boring casework, and the mindlessness of whatever movies and shows his remote-wandering take him to, he reads. If it didn’t come with so much frustration, he might actually be glad for the excuse to work through some of the books that he’s obtained but never actually worked through. Mainly, alternate language versions of some of his favorite classics. He’s always been better with spoken language as opposed to written, but he can do pretty well most times. Or at least stumble his way through it with the laptop pulled up to a translator, learning what he doesn’t already know.
Roy finds him like that one night, coming back from tracking down a suspect with a smile and a soft kiss to his forehead as he passes. He’s on the couch, stretched out along its length and with his back supported by a pillow and the arm of it, and he gives a grunt of welcome and barely looks up from his chosen book.
“What’s that?” Roy asks, as he steps up to the side of the couch and peers over. Interest apparently caught by the glimpse of the book, even as he starts to strip out of his gear.
That, Jason looks up for. The first look at the green of Roy’s eyes, and his smile, still makes his chest flutter a little bit. He clears his throat and looks back at the book, giving a small shrug.
“German,” he answers, slightly evasive.
He hears Roy’s bow clunk against the ground, followed by the rattle of his quiver and then the more cloth and kevlar sound of the top layers of his costume. When a hand touches his shoulder it’s bare, and when Roy leans into the arm, breath brushing his ear as he presses another kiss to Jason’s temple, the shoulder he can see out of the corner of his eye is bare too. He’s probably shirtless; the vest covers a little further than the edge of what he can see.
“Yeah? You read German too?”
“Mostly.” He turns his head and Roy immediately meets him for a kiss, lips soft and chaste against his. Jason can’t help but ease into it, giving a soft sigh and leaning into the touch, the book dropping down against his chest.
Roy lingers, fingers clasping his shoulder over the thin fabric of the shirt he’s wearing, warm and comfortingly solid, even with everything going on. Then, when he eventually pulls back a couple inches, murmurs, “What’s the book? If you don’t mind?”
Jason hesitates for a second, berates himself because Roy would never mock him for literature choices and besides he pretty much already knows Jason’s tastes, and then answers, “Pride and Prejudice. Working through some of the books I haven’t gotten to yet.”
He can feel Roy’s surprise more than he can actually see it at this angle, but before he can start to bristle there’s the rub of a cheek against his. “What’s it sound like?”
“German.”
Roy snorts and slides the hand on his shoulder down his arm, squeezing his bicep for a moment and then just loosely holding onto him. “Any good?”
He shrugs again; just a little, so he doesn’t dislodge Roy’s position. “I like the book. German doesn’t really change it; few odd translations here and there.”
Roy shifts to the side, moving on his knees until he can sit down at the base of the couch, smiling up at him. He is shirtless, but the boots and pants are still on, along with the gun strapped to his thigh. As Jason watches he reaches back and pulls the tie from his hair, shaking his head to let the long red locks fall down across his shoulders.
“Read to me?” Roy asks, with a backwards tilt of his head and a smile.
Jason pauses. “Sure, I guess.” He lifts the book, skimming down the page until he finds his place and then starting to speak, translating as he goes.
At least until Roy reaches up and takes his arm, tugging lightly to get his attention and sliding fingers across his wrist when he looks down. “In German?” is the murmured request, accompanied by another smile.
He blinks. Frowns a bit. “You don’t know German.”
Roy leans his head back into Jason’s waist, eyes closing as he relaxes against the couch. “Nope. But I like the sound of your voice.”
Jason’s glad that Roy’s eyes are closed, because it means he doesn’t see the way he blushes. He snorts to cover it up, twisting his fingers to touch Roy’s wrist in turn, rubbing a thumb into the base of it for a moment before tugging free so he can go back to holding the book.
“Alright. German, sure.”
Roy gives a pleased hum when he starts, and Jason sneaks a look down at the gentle arch of his neck and the peaceful look to his features. Well, maybe he can deal with the leg a while longer. Maybe.