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Jason Todd finds you sniffling over your phone one night.
It's nearing the ungodly hours of the morning when he finally returns, lugging himself over the fire escape and cracking open your window.
He's got one leg in your room when he freezes. You. Your form, on the bed—curled up, sniffling, shaking—you’re crying, he realises, and that gets him moving faster than you could acknowledge that he’s back.
You startle at the feel of his hands wrapped around your shoulders, dropping your phone in surprise. “Redh—Jay? What’s—”
“Talk to me.” Jason says, voice crackling through his vocalizer. He still has the helmet on, and the way he practically shoves himself into your view makes your head spin.
“What’s going on, Jay?” You croak, “How was patrol?”
He shakes his head, moving to your side, hovering over you less. “Talk to me, honey, c'mon. What happened?”
“No, it’s—” You sniffle, “Was just on the phone, waiting for you.”
“Y’know you don’t gotta do that, baby,” he grunts, and you shoot him an unimpressed look. You've been over this; he knows you do it because you want to. “Phone got you crying? S’there someone I need to talk to?”
You huff out a watery laugh, “God, no, I was watching some videos. Got me emotional is all. S’ shark week.”
He crosses his arms. Under his helmet, he’s probably giving you an unimpressed look as well. Eyebrows arched and everything. The thought makes you giggle, “Honest, baby—here, lemme show you.”
As you reach for your phone on the floor, Jason removes his helmet, shrugs off his gear. (There’s little to no scratches on him tonight, you note.) He’s about to take his shirt off when he sees you eyeing him impatiently, patting your thigh.
“Outside clothes, hun.”
You pout at him.
He sighs, and relents. His feet shuffle against the carpet as he moves to curl against you on your side of the bed. You scoot over a little to make space for him, eagerly tapping through your phone to show him the wholesome dog videos you were watching.
“Lookit this guy,” you urge, “saved his owner in a robbery, can you believe it? Almost got hurt in the process, too.”
Jason huffs, sounding half-relieved and half-amused. “Yeah?”
“Yeah! And this little guy—” you swipe to another video, “Look, Jay, isn’t she so sweet? I could cry!”
“Mhmm, I bet,” he says.
When you glance at him he’s already watching you, a faint smile on his lips. You feel your cheeks flush.
“What, not gonna make fun of me?” You joke. Jason looks utterly offended.
“Never,” he murmurs, “y’know I’d never. Not like this.”
“Aww,” you bump your shoulder against his, fighting the giddiness that threatens to consume you. You love this man. “Special treatment for the special occasion?”
Jason‘s body shakes as he huffs a laugh into your neck, “For my special girl, yeah. Y’still hurting?”
“Mmh, not anymore.”
“Want something warm?” He asks, leaning further into your side, “I can make you hot chocolate…”
“The way Alfred makes them?” You quip, perking up.
“Yeah, sure,” He says, “or I could go grab something for you, if you’re craving anything.”
“In the middle of the night? I don’t know if anything would be open, Jaybird,” he pinches you when you poke him, but sighs affectionately as you burrow into his side. “Plus, you’re plenty warm yourself.”
“Y’know I still gotta go shower, hun.”
“Aww, boo.”
There’s a chuckle that makes you smile, and Jason presses his nose to the top of your head, inhaling your scent. Setting your phone aside, you turn to face him fully. He doesn’t get a chance to sass you when you press your lips to his cheek, then nose, then jaw, trailing kisses all over.
A warm blush dusts his cheeks when you’re done, and he can’t meet your eyes when he asks, “What’s this for?”
You grin up at him, “Gotta thank you, Jay.”
“Oh yeah? What’ve I done?”
Eyes rolling playfully, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer for another kiss. Jason meets you halfway, his own hands settling around your waist.
“Welcome back,” you murmur against his lips, “thanks for coming home safe and sound, Jay.”
He grins, almost shy, entirely boyish, “For my special girl, always.”
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