Chapter Text
Gotham in the early hours has a certain charm.
For example, there's a supermarket open at 4 a.m. on a random Tuesday. However, any resident of the dark city knows that nothing good comes of 4 a.m. in a city teeming with criminals.
That's how we find Jason, in a black hoodie, gray sweatpants, and looking like he'd just gotten out of a fight. Which, honestly, would be the least far-fetched possibility on a night in Gotham.
He was pushing a shopping cart, with the same expression he usually wore when running over criminals: absolute concentration, furrowed brows, and a demeanor that clearly said, "I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing here."
On the other hand, Shu was the complete opposite, walking upright, completely calm, and looking at a totally impromptu shopping list on his phone. Dressed in simple pants and a simple hoodie, nothing out of the ordinary.
"Jason, we don't need six bags of rice," Shu said, without looking up from his phone.
"Yes, we do," Jason replied. "One to keep us company, one in case of emergencies, one in case it gets burned, one in case the world ends—"
"Jason"
"...Two in case the world ends."
Shu sighed, looked down from his phone, and cleared out all the bags of rice, leaving only one on the cart. "One."
"What if we want more rice tomorrow?"
"Well, we'll just come back and buy another bag."
"That sounds dangerously optimistic for Gotham."
The cart's wheels squeaked slightly as they moved down the quiet aisle. At this hour, the supermarket's lights, white and creating a buzzing noise, were quite intense. Generic, low music played, occasionally interrupted by commercials. There were only four other people besides the couple:
The cashier with a vacant stare, a guy struggling with the coffee machine, another guy whose cart was filled with nothing but cartons of cigarettes.
And a guy who had just walked in a few seconds ago.
Jason looked around and sighed.
"I don't understand how we ended up here," he muttered, complaining.
Shu glanced at him before turning his attention back to the refrigerators. "You said you were hungry."
"You said there was nothing in the fridge," Jason retorted.
"And you said, 'Well, let's go to the supermarket then.'"
"... I don't see your point here."
[...]
They stopped in front of the cereal aisle.
"Why are there so many brands?" Jason asked, genuinely offended, as he pushed the cart. "Who needs thirty versions of the same cereal?"
"People like having different options to choose from." Shu grabbed a box of cookies and put it in the cart.
Jason picked up a box with an exaggeratedly cheerful picture. "This one has a raccoon on it."
"We're not going to buy cereal just because it has a raccoon on the box."
"But look at it, it's a raccoon with a spoon."
Shu took the box in his hands. A brightly colored raccoon was grinning, holding a spoon in its paws filled with the colorful, flaky cereal.
"Sugar Loops! The new cereal flavor that will drive you crazy!"
Yeah, but with diabetes.
Shu put the box back on the shelf, grabbed a simpler one, and put it in the cart.
"This one's better."
"But it doesn't have a raccoon holding a spoon."
"But it does have fiber."
"Are you telling me you chose fiber over a colorful raccoon?"
Shu stared at him for two seconds. "Yeah."
Jason watched him for a few seconds, then chuckled and started the cart again.
"You're cruel, you know that?"
As they moved along, Shu added a few more things to the cart and some cooking essentials: vegetables, pasta, milk. Jason, on the other hand, added completely unnecessary items: spicy chips, an energy drink, cigarettes that earned Shu's glare, and chocolates that were clearly not meant to be shared.
"Is that for you or me?" Shu asked, pointing at the chocolates.
"For me..." Jason paused. "Well, for us. But mostly for me."
"Jason."
"What? I'll share... maybe."
Shu shook his head, but didn't remove the chocolates.
When they reached the checkout a few minutes later, the cashier looked at them, then at the cart, then at Jason, and then at Shu.
"Did you find everything you were looking for?" he asked automatically, scanning the items.
Shu nodded politely. "Yes, thank you very much."
As the cashier did this, Jason leaned slightly toward Shu and murmured, "If he asks anything weird, you answer. I'm unintentionally intimidating."
"You're not intimidating," Shu replied quietly.
"The guy in the back looks like he's about to run away at any moment."
"He's carrying six energy drinks and a frozen pizza; he's running from himself."
Jason chuckled.
At 4:25 a.m., they left the supermarket with two bags heavier than they needed. Jason looked at the dark Gotham sky and then at Shu; it was almost dawn.
"Okay," he said. "I admit that..."
"It was a good idea."
"I know."
"But I'm sleepy."
"Same here."
Jason arranged the bags in the trunk of the car with far too much seriousness for someone who had just argued ten minutes earlier about cereal.
"I still think the raccoon one was a better investment," he muttered.
"And I still think one spoonful of that cereal would give you diabetes," the albino replied, climbing into the passenger seat.
Jason looked at him for a second too long.
"You know what the worst part is?"
"What?"
"That you say it so casually, it automatically makes me feel like I'm wrong."
Shu turned to look at him, tilting his head slightly.
"It's called common sense."
"Well, don't talk to me like that at 4 in the morning," he growled, finally starting the car.
The drive back was quiet, but not uncomfortable. With Gotham half asleep, streetlights flickering, streets almost empty except for a few people who were awake at this hour, They gave a false sense of normalcy in the city.
Jason drove with one hand, the other holding a cigarette. He would sometimes take a drag and stick his hand out the open window, blowing smoke out.
Shu looked out the window, resting his cheek against the glass.
"When we get there," Shu's voice filled the car, "put your things away properly."
"I always put them away properly."
"Last time you left the vegetables next to the cleaning supplies."
"That was just a mix-up."
"Jason, lettuce doesn't go next to the detergent."
Jason made an offended sound. "You know, I don't survive every day in Gotham to be judged for how I organize my refrigerator."
[...]
They soon arrived at Jason's apartment. Small, simple, and although messy, not a complete disaster like people usually expected. The kitchen light came on, revealing the true battleground: the kitchen.
Jason put the He put the bags there and stretched, cracking his back, while Shu took off his shoes and carefully removed the items from the bags.
Jason watched as his boyfriend arranged everything in a certain order, without rushing, without getting too stressed. As if his world, unlike Jason's, wasn't about to explode.
"You know?" Jason leaned against the wall. "At this hour I'm doing much less... domestic things."
"I can imagine."
"And yet, this is better."
Shu didn't answer right away. He put away the milk and closed the refrigerator door, then looked at him.
"I like being here," he admitted simply.
Jason remained still. As if those words had hurt him more than any blow.
"Hey," he tried to joke. "That was a little too honest."
"I haven't slept in hours. My filter's down."
Jason chuckled and went over to help. Well, "help" was a bit of an understatement, because he only ended up holding a bag while Shu did everything.
"Why did you buy this?" Shu held up a bag of gummy candies with questionable shapes.
"Existential craving."
"At 4 a.m.?"
"Emotional emptiness doesn't sleep, Shu."
Shu put the gummy candies away in the pantry without asking anything else. When everything was put away, he looked at the clock.
"4:54."
"Perfect time for making questionable decisions," Jason replied.
"Eat or sleep?"
"Sleep."
"And my snack?"
"I'll cook you one later."
Jason grimaced. They moved to the bed, Shu lay down on his side, on top of the sheets, clearly tired. Jason turned off the hall light and plopped down beside him; not exactly on top of him, just close, covering them both with the blanket that was lying nearby. One side.
Then silence.
Comfortable silence.
Jason rested his head on the pillow, closing his eyes.
"If someone had told me my ideal early morning would be buying rice with you..."
"Do you regret it?"
"Not a bit."
Shu rested his head gently on Jason's shoulder, carefully.
"I'll cook you something decent later."
"That sounds promising."
"With the one bag of rice we bought..."
"I love you even when you rub it in that you're right."
Shu smiled calmly. Jason sighed, putting his arm around the albino's shoulders.
Gotham left them alone.
At least for a few hours.
(Yes, I just changed the entire introduction. The last one didn't quite convince me.)