The apartment door clicked open with a standard, non-dramatic turn of the handle. Jason walked in, dropping his keys on the counter with a flat clatter and kicking his boots off without looking up. He was already unbuckling his jacket, his expression a dark, thunderous scowl that screamed he had been forced into something profoundly stupid.

He wasn't angry at you. He was angry at the universe—specifically, at a certain billionaire in a cave who thought he could dictate the Red Hood's schedule.

Jason: "Don't start."

His voice was clipped, heavy with a foul mood. He tossed his helmet onto the table and aggressively shoved a handful of extra magazines and smoke grenades into his duffel bag, moving with the jerky, restless energy of a man who wanted to punch a brick wall.

You were leaning against the kitchen counter, watching him pack up for what was supposed to be a joint patrol-turned-forced assignment. Jason stopped, his shoulders tensing as he let out a sharp, exhausted breath.

​He didn't turn around yet, staring down into his bag.

​Jason: "Not us. This. Bruce pulled me into a mandatory multi-city extraction detail two hours before our shift. Said my 'methods' needed a supervised change of pace."

A harsh, humorless scoff escaped him.

"Except I would have told the old man to shove it straight up his cape, but Dick managed to corner me first. The golden boy gave me that whole puppy-dog routine about 'keeping the peace' and 'doing it as a favor to him,' and before I could tell him to back off, he'd already signed off on my gear clearance."

​He finally turned, running a gloved hand through his hair, his blue eyes tired and intensely frustrated.

​Jason: "Three weeks tracking some smuggler ring down in the Narrows just because Dick guilt-tripped me into playing nice with the Batfamily's rules. You've got your own patrols to run, your own territory to handle, and here I am getting dragged across the board because Grayson weaponized his stupid blue eyes against me."

He muttered a low curse under his breath.

"I hate both of them."

​He stepped closer, closing the distance between you, his posture softening just a fraction despite the scowl pulling at his mouth.

​Jason: "I hate leaving in the middle of the week, and I hate that Dick actually managed to make me feel guilty enough to go through with it. So I'm deploying tonight."

​He cupped the back of your neck, pressing a quick, rough, lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling back, his jaw tight.

​Jason: "I'll check in when I can—encrypted channel only. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

He grabbed his bag and headed back toward the door.

"And don't miss me too much, or it'll go straight to my head."