Mask of Magnaminty

Jason sighs for the sixth time in what had to be 10 minutes. 

(He knows it’s been 10 minutes. It always takes 10 minutes.)

The room is dark, save for the orange light shining in from underneath the bathroom door. Jason can faintly make out Dick’s slight form moving around by the shadows flickering across the floorboards, and the creaking of old, worn tiles. The distant hum of cars drifting by below the open window almost manages to lull him to sleep, before a breeze rustles the curtains, jolting him back to consciousness.

He attempts to rub the ache from his eyes, peering at the clock on the bedside table. 3:31 AM stares back at him, reminding the vigilante of exactly how late it is - even for those with their brand of nightly occupation. Scratching against the impressive stubble that’s managed to form in the 3 days he’d been away from home-intergalactic bounties don’t hunt themselves- Jason pushes himself up into sitting position, back resting against the headboard. The rhythmic flashes of the clock, coupled with the indistinct drone of late night/early morning Gotham is usually the perfect remedy for insomnia; almost always guaranteed to knock him out. He could close his eyes now and be out in 2 minutes, tops. The sweet thought of resting his head on his cool pillow and bundling up in the oversized comforter Dick insisted on nearly pulls him under yet again. Eyelids drooping, his head nods, just managing to rest his chin on his chest before the sound of a door opening rouses him once again.

Dick exits the bathroom, flicking off the light and sending the room into complete darkness. The only light now provided by faint rays of moonlight spilling through the curtains. Even with the limited vision, Jason can just make out the mint green cream covering the smaller man’s face. 

He sighs. 

Again

Lifting his head, Jason tracks his boyfriend’s form through the darkness. “I thought you were just cleansing tonight? It’s Tuesday,” he asks, voice raspy with sleep. By now, he’s become very accustomed the older man’s nightly skincare routine, and could identify the day simply by how long the other man spends in the bathroom. 

Finally throwing himself onto his side of the bed, Dick pulls his phone off the charger; light shining directly on him and revealing the thick, sticky mess masking his face. He drops his phone and rolls onto his back, looking up at Jason, the light now hitting the ceiling, bathing the room in a very faint, bluish tint.

“Joker decided to try out some new goo while you were gone,” he mumbles. The mask had already begun hardening, making it hard for him to move his mouth. “Didn’t do us any serious damage, unless you count the excessive drying of my skin. Which I do.”

Jason hums in acknowledgment, reaching out to rest his hand on the crown of Dick’s head. He cards his fingers through the thick curls there, tugging on the ends and occasionally swirling them around a fingertip. He can feel the tension leave the acrobats body, practically sensing when he shuts his eyes in contentment. This is heaven to Jason. Simply sitting here with his boyfriend, massaging his scalp. It’s moments like this he misses the most when the team gets called away on extended missions.

The room is quiet. Even the cars below seemed to have stopped, aware of the peaceful atmosphere encompassing the bedroom; leaving it undisturbed, if only for a moment.