Big Ol' Books of DC Fluffshots

Love So Strong, It Makes Me Feel So Weak - Jason Todd

Warmth radiated through the apartment, a stark change from the frigid snow that coated the bustling city outside. Jason swipes at the perspiration building above his brow with his forearm, giving a satisfied sigh as he slid the tray of meringues into the fridge.

He turns his attention back to the counter, watching you dust flour over the counter, prepping it for pie crust. A smile comes to his face as he leans over your shoulder to read the recipe you were following, his hand bracing your hip. You lean into his touch as you knead the dough, a similar smile gracing your face.

He reaches over, setting the oven to three seventy-five before turning his attention to making the filling. You watch as he flips the stove on, reminding you, "oh! By the way," you start, making him look back over to you.

You nod to two mugs sitting on the untouched counter, one with a cinnamon stick peeking over the top, the other with a candy cane, "I warmed up a couple drinks while you were working on the meringues." Jason steps over to the mugs, picking one up.

He swirls the cinnamon stick in the golden brown liquid, the tangy, sweet smell wafting up to him. "You didn't have to do this," he crows, picking up the mug of hot chocolate and placing next to where you were working.

"Sure," you shrug, taking a pause on the pie crust to pick up the stoup. You stir the candy cane, letting its rich peppermint seep into the creamy chocolate before taking a sip. "But you like apple cider, and you've been stressed and busy lately." You place a kiss on his cheek, getting back to work on the pie crust.

Jason watches, a smile on his face, his heart beating out of his chest as he stares. It overwhelms him, really. The fire of pure adoration that ignites inside him when he's around you, roaring and threatening to consume him if he doesn't put it out. The way your touch made him want to melt, even if you were just running a hand through his hair or patching him up after a rough patrol.

Restless nights where he would wake up screaming, sweating, and shaking from the horrors that haunted him in his sleep, you were there for him, ready to console, listen, and just comfort him. The way you'd wait for him to open back up when he'd start shutting everyone out again.

You were just so gentle and patient to him. It wasn't something he was used to. He didn't know how to handle it. He felt like he was drowning sometimes, overwhelmed by waves of uncertain safety, desperate to find an answer for how to deal with the unfamiliarity. It clicked as you turned to him, having noticed his sudden quiet.

"Babe," he starts, his voice shaking. "Yeah," your eyebrows furrow at the sudden tension in him. "You know, if I ever become too much for you - if you ever get tired of dealing with everything I throw at you - I won't be upset if you leave."

Your face falls entirely, a confused and sad expression replacing what was once content and joyous. "Jay-" "I'm just saying if," he interrupts, and even that makes him feel guilty, "this life that I've dragged you into isn't the easiest or safest in the world." You sigh, shaking your head as you step closer to him.

"Jay," you start again, "you didn't drag me into this life. I want to stay here with you. I knew very well what I was getting into, and I decided that life with you was worth it." You reach up, one hand cupping the side of his face.

"I wish I could make you see your worth, Jay. You've done great things for this city, for these people," you stroke the side of his face as he leans into the touch, "for me." You lean up, placing a kiss on his forehead, you hand moving down and grazing his chin.

"You're not the bad and broken person you think you are." Jason chuckles from that, even as he sniffles, his eyes having gone wet. "We both know I'm pretty broken," his voice is choked as he swipes at his eyes. The smile comes back to your face, though it's a sad one.

"Not beyond repair, and it doesn't mean you don't deserve care and affection." Jason gives a tearful grin, taking ahold of your hand, moving it back to the side of his face, "you're too good for me." "Well," you stroke his cheek, "get used to it, cause there's no getting rid of me."

He leans in, a way of asking permission. You accept, pressing a kiss to his lips. He's eager as he kisses back, the warmth of the kitchen around him disappearing. The kiss lasts for a moment before he pulls away for air, a dusting of pink on his face, his blue eyes glazed over with admiration.

"Thank you," his voice teeters on the edge of breaking. "No need," you assure, turning back to your pie crust, which was beginning to dry out. Jason does the same, getting back to making the filling.

He takes another sip of his apple cider, "hey." You turn back to him, taking a drink from your hot chocolate, "yeah?" "I love you." "I love you, too."