Work Text:
Jason grinned to himself as he snuck into the bathroom.
He had swiped what he needed from the kitchen when Marinette wasn’t looking. An excellent feat of stealth if he had to say so himself, because that woman was surprisingly observant.
He had his shower, giggling to himself every few moments as he pictured her face. First, she would go completely deadpan and prepare to berate him for defiling her ingredients, but as soon as she would open her mouth, she would giggle. Then she would fight for composure but then her nose would scrunch up as she would start laughing again.
He was aiming for tears. Snorts at the very least.
With a rush of anticipation, he dried off and got dressed. He was just about to stuff the banana into his pants when his phone went off.
He sighed before answering. “What?” he snapped.
“Arkham breakout.” Was the only answer he got.
He rolled his eyes at Bruce’s Batman voice and his fucking drama. “Fucking fine. I’ll be there in ten.”
He hung up, tapping the phone with a bit more force than necessary.
He looked at himself in the mirror. So much for fun.
“Jason?” he heard Marinette calling from outside the bathroom and he saw his own eyes widen in panic.
The banana was still in his hand. How the hell would he explain that?
He threw it into one of the drawers and slammed it shut just in time for Marinette to open the door.
“Did you get a call from Bruce?”
“Yeah, yes. I gotta go.”
She gave him a gentle smile. “Just take care of yourself, okay?”
He gave her a sweet kiss. “I’ll do my best.”
…
Marinette was in the shower, getting ready for the day.
Jason had come home in the early hours of the morning.
The fight had apparently been more drawn out than it had been hard, and he had gotten away with no more than a cut on his hand that barely needed a band-aid.
He still made a production out of it, crying and moaning dramatically as she cleaned it.
Drama queen.
She opened the drawer to get her hairdryer and stopped short.
Why the fuck was there a banana lying next to her hairbrush?