Chapter Text
The safehouse was quiet.
The kind of quiet that only came after a night of fucking so intense that even the walls seemed to need a cigarette break. The sheets were a disaster: twisted, damp, and clinging to skin in ways that should have been uncomfortable but somehow weren't. The air smelled like sex, sweat, and the faint, lingering trace of lotus petals that always seemed to follow Salix like a personal perfume cloud.
Jason Todd, shirtless and still flushed from exertion, sat on the edge of the mattress with his back to the bed. A disassembled handgun lay on the nightstand in neat, methodical rows; barrel, slide, recoil spring, firing pin, trigger assembly. His fingers moved with practiced ease, cleaning each piece with the kind of obsessive attention to detail that had been beaten into him during his training.
The metal was cool against his calloused fingertips. Familiar. Grounding.
Behind him, tangled in the wreckage of their sheets, Salix slept like the dead.
Or rather, like a cat who had been thoroughly worn out and was now enjoying the consequences of his actions.
Jason cast a glance over his shoulder, and something in his chest tightened. He'd never admit it out loud, not to anyone, not even under torture, but moments like this were the reason he kept coming back. The reason he'd crawled back after eight breakups, each one a spectacular disaster that left him feeling like he'd been hollowed out with a spoon.
Salix lay on his stomach, face half-buried in the pillow, his messy black hair fanned out around him like spilled ink. The long braid he usually kept over his right shoulder was loose now, the silver threads and small white flowers that had been woven through it hours ago scattered across the pillowcase like fallen stars.
His back was bare, the smooth expanse of pale skin a canvas for the marks Jason had left behind. Bite marks on his shoulder blades. Hickies trailing down his spine. A particularly vicious one just above his hip that Jason had sunk his teeth into when Salix had moaned his name in that broken, desperate way that drove him absolutely insane.
Jason's dick twitched at the memory.
Focus, Todd. Guns. Clean the guns.
He turned back to the disassembled weapon, forcing his attention to the task at hand. His fingers moved through the motions: wipe, oil, reassemble, but his mind kept drifting back to the warm body behind him.
Salix shifted in his sleep, a soft sound escaping his lips that was somewhere between a sigh and a hum. Jason's hands stilled.
And then Salix stretched.
It was a full-body thing, the kind of stretch that made Jason's spine ache just watching it. Salix's arms reached up and forward, his back bowing as his toes pointed and curled. His body moved like liquid, each joint rolling into place with the kind of fluid grace that had Jason's eyes tracking the movement despite his best efforts to stay focused on the goddamn gun.
A sound came from Salix's throat.
It was soft. Low. Almost musical.
A purr.
Jason had gotten used to it over the months. The first time he'd heard it, he'd nearly had a heart attack and reached for a weapon. Now it just made him smile like an idiot. Salix made that sound when he was content—really content, the kind of deep, bone-level satisfaction that he only showed in the moments when his guard was completely down.
It was a privilege to hear it. A bigger privilege to be the cause of it.
Salix's eyes fluttered open, mismatched irises, one brown, one blue, catching the dim light of the room. His gaze found Jason's back, and a slow, sleepy smile spread across his face.
"Mm... my love," Salix murmured, his voice rough with sleep. "You're not in bed."
"Cleaning the guns," Jason replied, his own voice coming out gruffer than intended. "Someone's gotta make sure we don't blow our own dicks off."
"That's a very practical concern." Salix's smile widened. He shifted, rolling onto his side with the kind of boneless ease that Jason could only dream of. The sheets fell away, revealing more of the marks Jason had left on his chest and stomach. A constellation of bruises and bite marks that made Jason's mouth water even now.
Later. Focus.
Salix stretched again, arms reaching out, toes pointed, spine arched like a contented cat. The purring sound intensified, and Jason felt his resolve crumbling.
He's going to be the death of me. I swear to god.
And then Salix folded himself.
Jason froze.
It was a slow motion at first, the kind of gradual curl that could be mistaken for just another stretch. Salix's body bent at the waist, his legs folding up towards his chest, his arms tucking in. His head dropped, chin coming to rest on his knees.
And then he just... stayed there.
Like a goddamn sushi roll. Or a croissant.
Or a loaf.
Jason's brain short-circuited.
He knew Salix was flexible. Knew it intimately, in ways that had sent him to the edge of madness more times than he could count. He'd bent that man in positions that would have made a contortionist weep with envy. He'd watched Salix fold himself in half to avoid a knife, twist mid-air to land on a villain's shoulders, and the first time they'd had sex, Jason had nearly dislocated his own hip trying to keep up.
But this?
Salix looked like a goddamn cat in a bread tin. Arms tucked, legs folded, body curled into a perfect, compact little ball of vigilante and chaos. His mismatched eyes blinked up at Jason from behind his knees, half-lidded and sleepy and knowing.
"What," Jason said flatly.
Salix just purred.
"The fuck is that?"
"Mmm?" Salix tilted his head, the movement making his long braid brush against the sheets. "What's wrong, Jaylan?"
"That." Jason gestured vaguely at Salix's entire existence. "You're doing... that thing."
"What thing?"
"The—the loaf thing. You're loafing."
Salix blinked. Then, very slowly, a knowing smile spread across his face. "Oh. Is that what it's called?"
"Don't play dumb. You know exactly what you're doing."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, my love. I'm just... comfortable."
"You're a goddamn murder muffin."
Salix's smile widened, catlike and insufferably pleased. The purring intensified. His body, already impossibly folded, seemed to relax further, as if he was settling into a nest.
Jason's throat went dry.
Because the sight of his boyfriend, his beautiful, deadly, absolutely unhinged boyfriend curled into a neat little ball on the bed like an overgrown cat was doing things to him. Things he didn't have a name for. Things that made his brain feel like it had been replaced with static.
Things that were currently making his dick very, very interested.
He's not even trying. He's just existing. And my body is betraying me.
"Get over here," Jason growled.
Salix's eyes sparkled. "I'm comfortable."
"Salix."
"Come get me."
Jason set the gun down with more care than it probably deserved. He turned, one knee on the mattress, and eyed his boyfriend like a predator sizing up prey.
Salix didn't move. Didn't even flinch. Just lay there in his ridiculous little loaf, mismatched eyes tracking Jason's approach with the kind of lazy awareness that made Jason's pulse race.
"When we first started dating," Jason said, his voice dropping to the low, gravelly register that he knew made Salix's breath catch, "I thought I knew all your tricks."
Salix hummed, the sound vibrating through his chest. "And now?"
"Now I'm realizing that you are a bottomless pit of surprises."
"A good thing?"
"The best thing. Most annoying thing, but the best thing."
Jason was close now, close enough to see the faint flush on Salix's cheeks, the way his mismatched eyes had gone dark. Close enough to smell the lotus petals and soap that clung to his skin like a second layer.
Close enough to grab him.
And grab him he did.
Jason's hands closed around Salix's ankles, and he pulled. Not hard, he was always careful with Salix, even when he was pretending not to be, but with enough force to unravel the man from his perfect little loaf. Salix let out a surprised yelp as his body unfurled, his legs spreading, his arms flailing as Jason dragged him closer.
"What—Jaylan—!"
"I warned you," Jason growled, leaning over him. "Don't tempt me when I'm trying to be responsible."
"I wasn't tempting you!"
"You were loafing."
"That's not tempting!"
"It's absolutely tempting. I'm tempted right now. Look at me. I'm so tempted I can't even see straight."
Salix's breath came in a sharp laugh, his chest heaving. "You're ridiculous."
"I'm your ridiculous."
"My ridiculous—"
Jason kissed him.
It was hard and demanding, the kind of kiss that made up for every moment of restraint Jason had shown over the past hour. His teeth caught Salix's lower lip, and Salix groaned into his mouth, his fingers tangling in Jason's hair.
"You're a menace," Jason muttered against his lips.
"Mmhmm."
"A menace with a death wish."
"Are you complaining?"
"I'm never complaining. I'm just... appreciating."
Salix laughed, a breathless sound that was muffled by another kiss. Jason let his hands wander—down Salix's sides, over his hips, tracing the marks he'd left earlier. Salix arched into the touch, his back bowing off the bed, and Jason took advantage of the opening to deepen the kiss.
"I hate you," he said, and he meant I love you. They both knew it.
"I know," Salix replied, and he meant I love you too. They both knew that too.
Jason pulled back, just enough to look at his boyfriend. Salix lay beneath him, flushed and breathing heavily, his mismatched eyes dark and his lips red and swollen. The marks on his neck and chest were even more pronounced now, stark against his pale skin.
"You," Jason said, his voice rough, "are going to be the death of me."
"Only if you want to be."
"Always."
Salix smiled, slow and satisfied, and Jason was gone.
They didn't stop for a while.
Later, when they were both spent and the sheets were even more destroyed than before, Jason lay on his back with Salix curled against his side. His boyfriend had wrapped himself around Jason like a living blanket, one leg thrown over his hips, his head on his chest, his braid tickling Jason's ribs.
"You know," Jason said, idly stroking Salix's hair, "you're actually going to ruin me for other men."
"What other men?"
"Exactly."
Salix laughed, the sound vibrating against Jason's chest. His hand traced lazy patterns on Jason's stomach, following the lines of muscle and scar tissue.
"I meant what I said earlier," Salix murmured. "The first time I saw you, I knew you were the one."
"The first time you saw me, you threatened to break my kneecaps."
"I knew you were the one for me. There's a difference."
Jason snorted, but he couldn't stop the warmth that spread through his chest. "You're impossible."
"I'm yours."
Jason's heart stuttered. It did that a lot around Salix. He'd gotten used to it.
"We should actually get some sleep," he said, even though he knew it was a losing battle.
"In a minute." Salix's fingers stilled on his stomach. "I want to stay like this first."
"Like what?"
"Like this." Salix pressed a kiss to his chest, just over his heart. "Just... like this."
Jason didn't say anything. He didn't need to.
Instead, he wrapped his arms around Salix and held him close, feeling his boyfriend's purring start up again. The sound was soothing, a low vibration that seemed to settle into his bones.
Salix was a menace. A walking disaster. A man who had killed his own foster family and walked away without a scratch. A man who was so possessive over Jason's city that he had a body count to prove it.
But here, in the quiet darkness of the safehouse, he was just... soft. Warm. Home.
"You know," Jason said, breaking the comfortable silence, "if anyone else found out you can loaf, I'd have to kill them."
Salix snorted. "Even Nightwing?"
"Especially Nightwing. That bastard would never let me hear the end of it."
"Jealous?"
"Proud. There's a difference."
Salix smiled against his chest. "You're so cute when you're possessive."
"I'm not cute. I'm terrifying. I have a reputation."
"You're adorable, my love."
"Are you trying to get me to kill you?"
"Maybe."
Jason was already reaching for him, pulling him up for another kiss. "You're impossible," he said against his lips.
"I'm yours."
Jason kissed him harder, pouring everything he couldn't say into the movement. The years of fights and breakups and crawling back. The desperate, obsessive need to keep this man in his life no matter what. The fact that Salix was one of the few people in the world who made Jason feel like he didn't have to fight to be good enough.
You're mine, he thought. And I'm yours.
He pulled back, just enough to look at Salix. His boyfriend's mismatched eyes were bright and dark and full of everything that mattered.
"Let's get some sleep," Jason said softly.
Salix nodded, settling back against his chest. The purring resumed, and within minutes, his breathing evened out.
Jason stared at the ceiling, one hand tangled in Salix's hair, the other holding him close. The gun on the nightstand was still half-assembled, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
Tomorrow, there would be patrols and villains and the endless weight of their separate lives. Tomorrow, Jason would be the Red Hood and Salix would be Night's End, and they'd go back to fighting their own battles.
But tonight? Tonight, Jason had his boyfriend curled around him like a cat in a loaf, purring softly in his sleep.
And that, he decided, was enough.