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Jason could never really enjoy the "thrill of saving the world". He enjoys waking up in the morning knowing he's safe, that everyone around him is okay and that no one has been hurt, enjoys hearing people praise him and his partner, Flame, over a recent criminal they'd stopped, enjoys hearing Leo talk about how hot his alter ego Static is when he's fighting a villain and stopping their evil schemes. He is relieved to know his partner isn't hurt and enjoys the moments they have after battle the most.
But he's never enjoyed the actual fighting. Jason finds that fighting is built into his every vein, an instinct now that Jason is scared he could never live without, but Jason landing a punch never fails to feel wrong, and neither does being punched back. Fighting requires complete apathy, but Jason finds he can never seems to be able to get that.
He always finds himself waiting for the after moments after battle in the dark where both Static and Flame know no one would see them.
They're standing in the second floor of an abandoned building, only the two of them surrounded by endless dust and wooden boxes and broken glass, and they're standing next to one another with nothing but fighting gadgets and the first aid kit paramedics always give them after a fight.
"You okay?" Jason turns to his partner, looking straight at his eyes. They're darker due to the bad lighting, a black void compared to the usual chocolate brown he's used to seeing. He finds that he loves his partner's eyes in the dark.
Flame grins. "Yup. You were looking really hot—" he lights up his hand, "—out there." The shorter guy distinguishes the fire easily. Jason rolls his eyes but smiles, looking his partner up and down to check for any injuries (only to check for injuries, he tries to convince himself). He notices his partner's hands, his usually white gloves red and small cuts littering his hands.
"Holy shit, man, what happened to your hands?"
His partner looks at his hands, looks at Static, then shrugs. "Prob'ly hurt them when I fell for you." He winks.
"This is serious!"
The other boy lets out a laugh, showing Static his palms. "What, you gonna homoerotically cure my wounds?"
Jason holds Flame's hands, eyebrows furrowed as he stares at them. "Nothing hot about having an injured partner." he says before lightly pulling him to a nearby table where Jason opens the first aid kit. He's never really been that skilled at cleaning up other's wounds, but he tries.
He opens an alcoholic wipe and places it gently on a cut on the right of his partner's hand. His partner hisses and backs up.
"You asshole! That hurts."
"Have you never cleaned a cut before?"
"Nope, just let me bleed to death," he says, holding his hand close to his face. Jason doesn't know whether to sigh or laugh. He goes with a weird mixture of the two.
"C'mon, it's not gonna take long," he says once he stops.
His partner sighs dramatically and says a quick "You're so annoying" before placing his hands in Static's. Jason places the wipe again, and Flame hisses again, but Jason holds onto his hand more firmly, trying to support him and make sure he doesn't let go.
"I'm forever gonna hate you for this," Flame announces.
"You just said this would be homoerotic."
"You were right. Nothing hot about this."
Jason smiles a little before placing a small kiss on his partner's other hand. His partner places a soft kiss on Static's lips, Jason quickly reciprocating. Jason separates and reminds his partner why they're here in the first place.
"This is boring. Kissing you is funner," the other guy announces but lets Static continue fixing him up. The second Jason finishes, his partner connects their lips again, as if not wanting to waste a second. Their masks bump for a second, making them separate.
"Your mask always gets in the way," Human Torch whispers as he places his lips on Static's again, the edges of their masks bumping into one another again. His partner gently places his hands around Static's hips as Jason places his on his face, pulling him closer.
The masks make it hard to kiss. Jason has never wanted to reveal his identity more in his entire life.
"Your mask is so annoying," the other boy whispers, talking in between kisses. "Can't I just rip it off?"
This isn't the first time his partner asks. They've been working together for almost a year, and the black haired boy has asked every single time since they'd met. Sometimes it's jokingly, a quick one liner about how he'd look hotter with the mask off or a purposely shitty sonnet about how he doesn't need to hide behind a mask. Sometimes it's more serious, with a small "Please tell me" after battles or "Can you at least think about taking it off?" in between kisses.
His brain tries promising him that it's better this way, because it could potentially put his partner's life at risk even with the mask off, because Jason hasn't revealed his identity to anyone for the past six years and someone he's only started working with eleven months ago should not break that rule, because he'd risk the world again and again and again and again for his partner and revealing their identities would only make him more willing to do so, would only make him more vulnerable to his own emotions. He remembers that his partner has risked his life for Static before. His partner trusted and cared for Static so much that he had faced death for him.
Jason's mind tells him it isn't worth the risk. Jason tries to listen.
It feels like Jason's always known his partner but also doesn't know him at all. Jason always tries to convince himself it's fine.
And suddenly he's parted with the Human Torch and placing his hands at the strap under his own chin, taking permission by whispering a "Can I?" as he watches his partner's eyes widen.
"Are you gonna—"
"Can I?" he repeats.
"Yes! Please- yes, fuck. I never thought you'd-" the boy's hands instinctively go to his head, as if he were used to running his hands through his hair, and Jason could notice the small black curls threatening to escape his mask, and Jason watches as his partner stops talking, takes a deep breath, and places his hands on his own mask.
Everything feels intense. Jason knows what he risks in sharing his identity, and he starts doubting himself, but he knows he wants this more than he's wanted anything ever in the past twenty-two years.
Static and Human Torch take off their masks.
And when Jason can recognise the face in front of him, a face he's known for years, he almost laughs. He almost laughs because he should've known, should've known he would fall for this asshole twice. He wraps his arms around the shorter boy, whispering "I love you, I love you, I love you" on repeat.
"Jason," Leo whispers, sighing as he wraps his arms around him.
"Leo," Jason whispers back, and they separate enough only to look at each other before they start giggling like children.
Jason looks at his best friend, his curly black hair and dark eyes and cocky grin and his shitty fireproof suit and he can't believe he couldn't figure this out sooner.
"Masks aren't in the way anymore," Leo said, grinning.
Jason places his lips to Leo's again, and they're both smiling, and this time there's no mask that gets in the way, no secret identity to hide behind. Jason kisses Leo and finds himself falling for both sides of him just as he always has, and when they pull away, Jason grabs Leo's hand and places a soft kiss where cuts litter his skin.