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The light is dim in the apartment, but only because the landlord is too much of a cheapskate to either fix the lights or replace them. It seems that Prime doesn’t mind it too badly, though. Jason’s never seen him complain about the place, even though it might be just as bad as the apartments in Gotham. Might.
The view isn’t any better either, still, at the very least the sky in this part of Metropolis isn’t plagued with thick smog or constant rain. The wallpaper is peeling and Jason would be plain stupid if he hadn’t noticed the build up of mold in the corners of the room when he initially let Prime convince him to visit.
Then, there was also the lack of furniture present. The man had already been living here for a couple of months but there had barely been any change in the amount of furniture before Jason began to visit regularly (sometimes it was better to get as far away from the bats for a little while than to pretend they didn’t exist when the buzzing of his phone became loud). In fact, he almost let a snicker escape his lips when he’d seen that all Prime had was essentially a mattress, a duffel bag full of clothes and his suit, and boxes full of comic books. When Jason pointed this out, Prime simply replied that those were already the essentials and that was all he really needed.
Anyway, Jason had concluded that if Prime kept insisting he should come over, he couldn’t keep pretending the apartment was fine the way it was. Call it instincts or urges or whatever, but something in his brain nagged at him to do something about it.
It was also getting a little awkward for him to keep sitting on the small bed(?) right up close to Prime. Especially when he could see the guy sneaking glances from behind whichever thin paged comic book he was pretending to read that day. Ignoring the constant spikes of curious-alpha in his scent was also getting harder to do. Jason wanted to keep his distance from him as much as possible.
Convincing Prime to get more furniture had been easy enough and the various secondhand shops nearby had certainly helped. The once empty space of the studio apartment began to look nice and lived in at some point. Although Jason hadn’t remembered when exactly it had started to feel that way.
Jason exhaled sharply from his seat on the couch, frustrated at his own meaningless thoughts.
Since when had he cared so much about the apartment anyways? It wasn't even his.
“What?” Prime interrupts. His head slightly tilts as he asks the question, just like a dog would if you whistled or held a ball in front of it.
Jason was hesitant to reply, because whatever he did say would likely not satisfy the curiosity of the man on the other end of the couch. But saying anything was better than having Prime annoy him for the next hour as he tried to figure out whatever Jason was thinking about.
Seriously, the alpha was relentless.
“Nothing,” Jason tries, looking off to the side a little.
Prime was always bad when it came to tidying up, and a stray piece of plastic on the floor from one of those bags he kept his flimsy comics in looked really interesting right now.
Prime actually pouted at that.
“That’s no fair!” He accused, fully placing his comic down flat on the little coffee table, right next to where Jason’s feet lay on top of it.
“We’re partners now! No secrets, remember? That’s one of the most important parts about being in a team, you know. The fans don’t like drama as much as you think they would, even if I personally think it makes for a better story.”
Weirdo, Jason thought.
“I can tell you’re being a little judgmental. Was it something I said?”
What an even dumber question, briefly makes it's way through Jason's mind.
“It's always something you say,” Jason points out, and despite not wanting to acknowledge this fact, it’s more in a playful manner than anything.
Prime only smiles goofily in response, but not in the usual way he does when they’ve successfully rounded up a bunch of bad guys or when people are cheering for Superman when he saves the day in Metropolis.
No, his smile is soft. It’s personal. It’s a this-smile-is-reserved-for-close-friends-and-pack-only type of smile.
And Jason?
Well, he hasn’t had any friends or been part of a pack in a while. He’s not sure how to feel about the sudden closeness between him and Prime. Jason’s not a person who casts his weaknesses out in the open and he’s especially not one to get close to someone he can openly admit is much stronger than he is.
Prime’s an alpha. He’s dangerous, unstable, and known for not handling difficult situations in the healthiest way possible.
But it’s not like Jason is any better.
He’s not like any of the other bats in Gotham. He’s not like Batman or Nightwing. He’s not someone you can fall back on as a teammate. He’s an unreliable partner and time will only serve to further prove it. If someone were to ask Nightwing, he’d definitely say the Red Hood would be at the bottom of the list of people you should go to for assistance on a case.
Which, in retrospect, stings. Even if Jason tries his best not to let it affect him because they don’t even know each other well enough for Jason to feel bothered by what Dick thinks of him. But Dick was his brother and former packmate, so of course it hurts when someone’s family doesn’t really trust them.
Jason has had his fair share of situations that may be frowned upon by others, namely Bruce, but he doesn’t regret the amount of lives he has taken in the past, not for one second. And maybe that’s the obvious distinction between the things Jason has done and the things Prime has done, because at least the alpha is trying to make up for his past actions.
Both have made choices considered unsightly or distasteful by regular standards. Both also exist outside of the realm of what many people consider to be normal as well.
They’re different and, in the few ways that matter, similar.
They’re unruly, destructive, packless, and people have probably said that they’ve both made mockeries of the respective symbols that they adorn on their chests more than once.
Jason doesn’t behave like how people usually expect an omega to and Prime neither behaves like a typical alpha. Jason’s headstrong, he can be aggressive, and he rarely presents with any omegan tendencies to nest or comfort. Prime can be needy, requires constant reassurance (even if he never admits it), and allows Jason to take charge in their partnership during difficult cases. Where it counts, anyways.
Their personalities complement each other well and are perhaps a large contributing factor as to why they work so well together, much to the surprise of Jason. And to the chagrin of one particular Red Robin.
Maybe their relationship becoming so intimate shouldn’t have originally come as a surprise to Jason.
In all honesty, Prime was easy to hold a conversation with, even if some of the things he said were strange and his overbearing nature grew irritating at times. It was refreshing to talk to someone other than a bat who made it their personal mission to point out Jason’s mistakes.
Though, they had gotten into a lot of arguments when they first began teaming up and part of the reason they had even started working together was because Prime was so annoyingly insistent on the idea that the Red Hood had to be his partner, despite Jason constantly deeming that no, two known killers partnering up does not seem like the best idea in the world (His words didn't drive Prime away like he wanted them to, they actually only made him stick closer to the omega).
It was silly, but Jason had gotten used to being followed around by the alpha, and then the next thing he knew, they had suddenly known each other’s civilian identities and were ordering burgers to eat back at Prime’s apartment in Metropolis after an exhausting takedown.
Both identities had been hard to explain at first, but it didn’t change much in the long run. Not even the fact that Jason was an omega. Jason still came over and Prime still helped him on certain cases. They still talked as they ate and they still read alongside each other when they found the time.
They were friends.
And Jason should just let himself enjoy it, because Prime is weirdly pleasant to be around and there’s no turning back from where Jason’s unofficial official spot is on the couch.
It also brought him a kind of satisfaction to see his former packmates scrunch their noses in disgust when they caught the scent of the alpha on his suit and knew that they couldn’t do anything about it, lest Jason accuse them of treating him like an innocent omega that needed to be saved by a bunch of alphas.
Speaking of which, Jason didn’t mind at all that Prime was an alpha. He noticed it when they first met, as the man chose not to wear any patch or take any scent blockers. But Prime didn’t treat Jason any differently because of his designation, so Jason would allow for the same respect in return.
If Jason felt Prime’s nose linger a little too long above his neck as he flew them into Metropolis, he didn’t mention it. And if Prime heard a rumble or two escape Jason’s throat as he drifted off on the couch on certain days, well no one needed to know.
Like just then, Prime had scooted a little closer to Jason and Jason had leaned a little more to the middle of his seat.
Like just a second ago, the apartment had begun to smell like a combination of pheromones from an extremely pleased alpha and the subtle tones of a relaxed, content omega.
Jason breaks the silence first.
“…I was just thinking, your place looks kinda different now.”
Before he inevitably says something idiotic, Prime glances around the apartment, almost as if he’s not the one who lives there. Jason follows suit, tracing Prime’s view with his own eyes until, of course, they eagerly land back on Jason’s.
“In a good way or a bad way? Because it’d be super cool if it was in a good way. Then I could totally brag and say the Red Hood said he liked the way my apartment looked.”
Jason pretends to debate his question and lets out a hum as he looks once more to the side and then again to Prime.
“No,” he says, just to tease him.
The reaction is instant. Prime pouts again, already in the process of opening his mouth to most likely say another dumb thing.
“…then you could say Jason Todd liked the way that your, as in Clark Kent’s, apartment looked,” Jason finishes. He doesn't add on the present detail of Prime not having any other friends to tell, or that Prime isn't allowed to use his actual name.
At this, Prime lights up and his scent spikes stronger this time. Excitement and surprise quickly flood the room. He moves over to Jason carefully, like they’ve broken a stalemate of some kind, and the alpha has deemed Jason safe to approach.
“Do you really mean that?” Prime pries, his eyes wide like a child’s might be.
Jason lets out a laugh.
“Sure,” he says offhandedly, although his brain is a little buzzy.
Prime beams.
Jason knows he should stop while he’s ahead, yet he instead offers his wrist and hovers it over Prime’s right cheek.
Prime’s eyes go impossibly wider and he scans Jason’s features for a sign of approval, making Jason sigh and stick his wrist in Prime’s hair.
If Jason smells like Prime all the time, it’s only fair Prime smell like Jason sometimes too.
Prime goes slack, like what Jason is doing is a natural, reoccurring thing. He rubs his head against Jason’s wrist, matching the movement of the omega’s hand and unknowingly chasing Jason’s cinnamon-y scent with his nose.
Jason thinks it’s cute or something to that effect but saying it out loud would only feed into Prime’s ego.
The moment doesn’t last long before Jason’s phone is buzzing as it always does whenever he’s over at Prime’s. No doubt a call from Dick wondering why he’s been in Metropolis for so long. Which is stupid because Jason’s only been gone for about an hour and the bastard knows Jason doesn’t stray far from Gotham for too long if he can help it.
Jason pulls away from Prime to check his phone and he’s right. It’s Dickhead.
He makes the firm decision to turn off his phone completely and toss it across the room onto Prime’s bed, where it bounces and disappears amongst the ridiculous superhero themed sheets.
His focus shifts reverts back to the alpha at his side, who looks oddly expectant of Jason.
He can see Prime bite the inside of cheek and it’s probably the first time Jason has ever seen him actually think about what he’s going to say before he says it.
“Hey, you should totally do that thing you just did again,” Prime says and peeks at the omega’s hands that have retreated back into the safety provided by pockets of his hoodie.
“And this time, there’ll be no interruptions to this super precious moment of team bonding happening between us. The fans love it when a team feels more like family than coworkers, I mean did you see the way filmbros talked about the Avengers after the Fantastic Four came out?”
For some reason, Jason feels his ears burn and warmth crawl up his neck (while also ignoring whatever Prime meant by that last part).
“Don’t push it, Clark,” He mutters.
Prime never does. Still, he laughs at Jason’s reaction when the teasing is directed towards him rather than solely at Prime all the same.
Jason wants to come up with a retort, but he doesn’t. He lets Clark’s laugh consume his thoughts for the time being and sinks into his side of the couch.
The alpha throws himself beside Jason and there’s a large displacement of air as the cushions accommodate the sudden weight. Jason’s nose fills with ozone, fresh linen, and a hint of his own scent on Prime.
“But seriously, you’ll do that again right?”
Prime leans excessively into Jason’s personal space, practically sandwiching him in between the end of the couch and the alpha.
Jason wonders if Prime has ever felt bothered by the eerie green hue of his eyes like most people have.
Prime’s gaze doesn’t waver. The cerulean blue makes Jason's stomach uncharacteristically churn.
Jason digests the question thoughtfully.
“Maybe,” he says. And he doesn’t avoid Prime; he stares right at him when he lets the word fall from his lips.
Prime—no—Clark smiles again gleefully, clearly riding a pheromone high.
Jason doesn’t fight the own smile tugging at his face.
It felt good to have a friend.