come to my party
pairing: jason todd x reader
summary: your ex needs help with a mission. despite your better judgment, you help him.
warnings: fake dating, exes to lovers, idiots to lovers, fluff, a touch of angst, you and jason are very clueless, swingers (treated comedically), lots of alcohol consumption, jealousy, you and jason are a litttttle bit mean to each other
word count: 13.6k
author's note: it’s crazy to think that i started this fic almost a year ago and thought that i would never finish it! i hope you all enjoy it :-)
this fic is vaguely inspired by (and named after) party 4 u by charli xcx
You never feel more lonely than when you’re in a crowd.
This crowd felt particularly lonely; people scattered throughout your penthouse apartment, drinking your top-shelf liquor and eating your overpriced snacks while they sat on your furniture and half-heartedly attempted to keep you involved in their conversations. You could care less about their meaningless words or that someone just spilled wine on your brand new couch. In fact, if someone walked up to you and slapped you in the face, you were pretty sure that you would still feel utterly unmoved.
You noticed that you felt a lot of that these days—a sense of emptiness and apathy that wouldn’t ease regardless of how many parties you threw or how many times you swiped your credit card. You weren’t sure when it started, but you were sure that you needed to go refill your glass after choking down a mouthful of whiskey.
You peeled yourself away from your couch and made a shaky beeline towards your kitchen, ignoring the sight of a friend-of-a-friend doing a line on your coffee table. Your housekeeper would clean up their mess anyway. These days, you could barely keep track of who came to your place just to trash it and move on with their life.
After squeezing past a couple making out by your kitchen counter, you finally arrived at your destination—your fridge a welcome sight among the chaos that was your apartment. You held onto the handle of the appliance like it was a lifeline, pulling it open and grabbing the only two things that currently mattered to you: more alcohol and a handful of shredded cheese.
Before you even had the opportunity to fully enjoy the cheese in your mouth, you closed the fridge door and found yourself face to face with someone you could recognize. Despite the fact that your ex stood out like a sore thumb in the crowd of your guests, you were almost certain that you would recognize him anywhere.
Still, you almost couldn’t believe your eyes. You’d had quite a bit to drink already, and you couldn’t imagine that he’d ever be stupid enough to visit you unannounced after how poorly the two of you left things. And that was putting it politely, considering how terribly Jason left things.
“Jason,” you said casually, though his name was slightly muffled by the half-chewed white cheddar in your mouth. “You didn’t RSVP.”
“Didn’t know I had to,” he replied, almost smugly. His audacity never ceased to amaze you. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to punch or kiss him, but you were pretty sure you were leaning more towards the latter.
“A little heads up would’ve been nice.” You were far less annoyed than you let on, though if you’d known Jason was coming, you would’ve put on something a little more flattering.
“Next time,” he responded casually.
“There’s gonna be a next time, now?” you were slightly amused at the notion and impressed with his presumptuousness—though that was to be expected when dealing with Jason Todd.
“I hear you throw a lot of these now, so I’m gonna go out on a limb and say yeah.”
You flashed him a smile, somewhere between forced and natural. “What brings you here?”
“I just had a few questions for you,” he leaned against your counter as he spoke. His body language was far too comfortable for someone who’d just shown up to his ex-girlfriend's home without warning.
“Oh no. Am I in trouble?” you began to walk away from the kitchen and towards your office—a room that was mostly for show considering you were an unemployed socialite—attempting to get away from the pounding music and the couples playing tonsil tennis on your kitchen countertop.
“No, no, the opposite,” Jason followed you without protest, still as obedient as you remembered him.
“Well don’t leave me hanging,” you opened the door and sat down behind the desk, not bothering to look back at the man trailing behind you. “Again.”
“Hey, I really am s-” Jason began as he quietly shut the office door behind him.
You raised a hand up to cut him off. You really weren’t in the mood to hear any weak excuses or half-assed apologies. “Just tell me what you want.”
“I want to hear about how you’re doing,” he said, making his best attempt to be earnest. Unfortunately for him, Jason was far more transparent than he thought he was.
You kicked your feet up on the desk, then eyed him suspiciously for a second before cracking a small smirk. “I can’t tell if you missed having another warm body in your bed or if you’re here for business. Maybe both?”
He paused for a beat, as if he had to consider your words. “I’m not here to sleep with you.”
“Ouch,” you put a hand to your chest as you feigned offense. “Business then? What’s going on?”
He took a deep breath in, demeanor shifting to something more serious. “What do you know about Ted Stetson?”
“That weird bald businessman?” you laughed. All of this fanfare for something he easily could’ve searched online? “Don’t you have access to Wikipedia?”
“Of course I have access to Wikipedia. Obviously, the intel I want on him isn’t exactly what you would find on Wikipedia.”
“So you came to me because…?”
“Your family rubs elbows with people like him.”
“And yours doesn’t? You’re telling me that thee Brucie Wayne has never had a conversation with good ol’ Teddy? Hell, I see Tim Drake at half the events I go to. Surely, they’ve had a conversation at some point.”
“You’d be surprised,” he dismissed your words. You couldn’t imagine a world where Jason’s family hadn’t crossed paths with the man. “You’ve heard the rumor that he only likes to interact with people who are publicly in a relationship, right?”
You shrugged non-comitally, though you were certain that you’d heard stories of him in passing.
“It’s not just a rumor,” Jason continued, delivering the words as if you were supposed to care about them.
“Like I said, he’s a weirdo,” you replied, unimpressed. “What does that have to do with me, though?”
“Nothing,” he paused dramatically. It was good to see that his flare for dramatics remained intact in the time that you hadn’t been in contact. “Yet.”
“Ew. I hate when you’re vague and scheming. How many times do I have to say ‘Just say what you want from me’ until it actually gets through that thick skull of yours?”
“Fine. But before you get pissed, just remember that you were the one who wanted me to stop beating around the bush.”
“Go ahead.”
“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”
That was somehow much worse than you expected. For the first time in a long time, you felt oddly exhilarated. That was certainly a better feeling than utterly numb.
“Need?!”
“Want?” he said, sounding unsure of himself for the first time that night, knowing that the wording didn’t make things much better.
“Are you joking?”
“Does it look like I’m joking?”
You rubbed your temple. “Why?”
“I know you’re a little tipsy, but surely you didn’t miss the part of our conversation when I explained to you that my target only interacts with couples.”
“Shut up. I mean why me.”
“Why not you? You already run in his social circles and you and I have been together before, so I know that we can put on a convincing show.”
While you were slightly appalled by his request, you had to admit that you were impressed with his hubris. For him to walk right back into your home and ask you to be his fake girlfriend. The request was so absurd, that you almost wondered if this was some strange plot to get you back into his life.
“You know, if you want me back, you can just ask. You don’t have to come up with some weird convoluted scheme to get back with me.”
“Good thing I don’t want you back,” he gave you a pressed, sarcastic smile. You still weren’t fully convinced. “Seriously. This isn’t just some scheme for the sake of scheming. I’ve been surveilling Ted for the last few months, and he’s gotten into some dark shit. Turns out that internet marketplace of his is doing more than just overnight shipping tablets.”
“Ouch. I’m gonna choose to be flattered anyway that I was your first pick to do corporate espionage with.”
“Do you think I’m joking?” Jason asked, now looking dead serious. You gave a gallic shrug in response. “Well, I’m dead serious. I just need your help for a few days. Be my date to this year’s Stetson Foundation Gala, and if you hate it, I’ll leave you alone. If it works out, then we can keep pretending until I get the information I need.”
It didn’t sound like the worst idea in the world.
“What’s in it for me?” you asked, although you already knew what the answer to his proposition was.
“Besides getting to know that you did a good thing and helped the residents of Gotham?”
You laughed out loud. After a beat, Jason laughed right along with you.
“Seriously, what do you want?”
Realistically, the mission alone was exactly what you wanted. You were so deeply bored with life, completely unmoved by the things that used to bring you joy or pleasure or entertainment. It wasn’t like there was anything material that Jason could give you that you couldn’t already get for yourself, either. Your request options were extremely limited.
“I want you to come to one of my parties,” you said without really thinking. Although you hadn’t thrown them with nearly the same frequency when you and Jason were together, he never really liked socializing in bigger group settings with you. You two had argued more times than you could count about him being ashamed of you.
“I’m already here, aren’t I?”
“This doesn’t count. You only came here to ask me for something. I wanna see you dancing in my kitchen while people do lines of coke in the background. I’d pay real money to see that.”
“You’re sadistic.”
“Do you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend or not?”
— — — —
You knocked on the door in front of you tentatively before putting your hands behind you like a little kid who’d been caught with their hand in a cookie jar. You couldn’t even recall the last time you felt this nervous to see anyone—but it felt fitting that the cause of your anxiety was Jason.
He’d requested that you meet him at his apartment before heading to the gala, the same apartment he lived in when the two of you were actually together.
You knew the place intimately, having spent many late nights and early mornings lounging in the small studio. In the back of your mind, you wondered how much had changed since you’d last visited; what stack of books would be on his bedside table and what trinkets you’d find on the desk that held his oversized computer.
You presumed you’d get the answer to the question soon enough, as the door you were patiently waiting for swung wide open.
“Hey. You’re here early,” Jason commented as he let you in. He looked good, despite being mildly disheveled. The loose tie draped around his neck told you that he had to have been in the middle of getting ready when you arrived.
“My driver was rushing me out. Something about traffic being bad tonight,” you unabashedly looked around after you stepped inside. It looked so much like how you remembered it that you couldn’t stop your heart from aching with a bittersweet pang of nostalgia.
As much as you liked to put on a front, being around Jason again had oddly woken up several dormant feelings in you. Attraction that you hadn’t even realized you still felt, unresolved sadness that you never really addressed after the breakup, and excitement that you really had no business feeling, considering that the date you were about to go on was fully fake.
All of which made you a little nervous about how great of an idea this was. Sure, you might have fun for the first time in months, but was it really worth the pain that might come with it?
You reminded yourself just how depressing nothingness felt. Maybe whatever pain was sure to come would be worth it.
“You look nice,” Jason complimented you simply, clearly attempting to test the waters.
“Thanks,” you replied, trying your best not to appear as flattered as you actually were. You had a hunch that it would be easier to mask your emotions when you weren’t awkwardly standing across from Jason, so you made yourself right at home on his couch—wrinkles on your gown be damned. “Anyway, I was able to pull some strings like you asked me to. Guess who’ll be sitting next to Mr. Teddy Stetty tonight?”
“Fuck yeah. I knew I came to you for a reason,” Jason hovered by the couch, but didn’t sit down.
“Such a way with words. You really know how to make a girl feel special,” you joked and looked up at the ceiling. Maybe if you could extinguish some of your feelings now, the rest of the night wouldn’t be so difficult for you.
“Thank you, I try my best,” he joked in a slightly sarcastic tone. “I didn’t invite you here to butter you up, though. There are a few things I wanted to give you tonight, just for safety and surveillance purposes.” Jason approached his kitchen to seemingly grab said items.
“Oooh, how official. It’s like I’m a real vigilante. What am I wearing?” you asked, kicking your heeled feet up on his couch and doing your best to look casual. Why was it so much harder to act normal with Jason around?
“The big thing is that I want you to wear these special contacts tonight. They’ll record everything you see. If you manage to get any information out of Ted, it’ll be easier to watch the recording than to try to make you remember everything he said verbatim. Then-“
“Jason, I don’t know about that,” you cut him off. “I think I’m actually physically incapable of touching my eye. Plus,” you lifted your hands to display your perfectly manicured, but slightly long nails.
“That’s fine,” he began, giving you some hope that you wouldn’t have to poke your own eye out tonight. “I’ll help you.”
You couldn’t see this ending well for a number of reasons. Still, you didn’t protest when Jason thoroughly washed his hands, before coming to sit next to you on the couch with his pair of special contact lenses in tow.
You turned to face him and moved just a little closer to him. Jason did the same, looking a little nervous as he approached you.
“I don’t want to mess up your makeup,” he said quietly, his voice so low that you almost wondered if there was someone sleeping in his apartment that he didn’t want to wake up.
“You won’t,” you assured him in a similarly quiet tone and set a hand on his wrist for encouragement. “But I’m putting a lot of trust in you right now. Please don’t stab my eye.”
The scene felt uncomfortably intimate. With Jason so close to you, you could feel his drawn out breaths as he tried to focus enough to successfully insert the lens without hurting you. You could smell the familiar mint mouthwash that he still used after all these years—it reminded you of stealing kisses whenever you wanted and tasting him as you pleased.
Jason was gentle with you as he put the first contact in your eye, even going as far to tell you what a good job you were doing as you sat and did nothing. In your attempts to sour your recollection of memories with Jason, you’d forgotten how soft and kind he could be when he really wanted to, and how often you were on the receiving end of that softness.
You watched him closely as he put the second lens in your eye, the lines drawn on his face as he focused, and his eyebrows drawn in as he concentrated on not hurting you. It was disgusting. It was exhilarating. You almost wished the contacts were already recording, so you could have this memory to look back on forever.
“All done,” Jason announced and quickly stood up. You wondered what was going through his head as he did that for you. “We should be ready to head out now.”
“Hold on,” you stopped him in his walk towards the door. “Your tie. I can’t have you walking around like that and embarrassing me.”
“Oh, yeah. Forgot about that thing,” he looked down at himself. “I’ll be right back.”
Jason disappeared into his bathroom, and when he came back it was very clear that his tie was still not on correctly. You did everything in your power to fight the smile creeping onto your face.
“Need some help?” you gestured towards his tie.
“Is it not good enough?”
“Jason. Good enough? Come on. You look ridiculous. C’mere.”
He stood in front of you while you diligently got to work. You couldn’t help but think of your first anniversary date and how similar that situation was to the one you were currently in—how Jason tried, but failed, to fix a tie, and how you had to step in to help him. You remembered wondering at the time if he’d intentionally left his tie slightly undone so you would fix it. Part of you wondered if he’d done the same tonight.
While you focused on his tie, you snuck a peek up at Jason’s face—the dusting of freckles on his cheeks so light that you only noticed them if you knew what you were looking for, his naturally long lashes, a scar on his face that looked relatively new—you wanted to kiss him so bad. The two of you locked eyes and you wondered if he felt the tension you felt, even momentarily.
With him this close, your heart betrayed you, beating so loudly and quickly that you were certain even his next door neighbors could hear it. You prayed to whatever being out there that he somehow didn’t pick up on the sound.
“Thanks,” Jason said almost shyly.
“No problem,” you tried to collect yourself. With the two of you standing so close to each other, the air almost felt too thick to breathe. “We should probably head down now. William’s gonna be pissed that we took so long up here.”
With those words, the spell was broken and the two of you left the apartment, finding yourselves in the backseat of your driver’s car instead.
The ride was mostly quiet outside of Jason briefing you a little more on your target. Your only goal for the night was to establish contact with Ted—which wouldn’t be too difficult with you sitting at the same table—and to try to be a likeable enough duo for him to want to see you two again.
According to Jason, Ted held exclusive, secretive parties for some of his favorite couples, and securing an invite was Jason’s best bet on getting the most amount of intel on the man’s shady business practices. If you two could somehow work your way into his inner circle, he would have the information he needed in no time—which meant you would be free, after Jason attended one of your parties, of course.
He gave you a small earpiece shortly before you arrived at your destination, which he double checked with an unnecessarily tender tuck of hair behind your ear, then you were off to the gala, a short red carpet and flashing lights greeting the two of you on your way to the door.
Jason immediately grabbed your hand, and considering how nervous he looked, you felt like the action was more for him than for the sake of appearing like a loving couple. He hated public-facing events, which was something he made very clear during the duration of your relationship.
Luckily for Jason, years of being a socialite had done more than enough to prepare you for the spotlight. You smiled naturally for the cameras as you dragged Jason along, even throwing in a quick kiss on the cheek to add to the authenticity of the performance.
If nothing else, the paparazzi pictures from the night would tell the story of two of Gotham’s biggest business owners’ children debuting their relationship at the city’s biggest charity event of the year.
“I didn’t realize just how nervous you’d be on the red carpet,” you commented once the two of you were safely inside. “I never would’ve guessed that Mr. Cocky gets a little stage fright.”
“It’s all an act for my civilian persona,” Jason attempted to explain over a flute of champagne, but you knew better.
“Your clammy ass hands said otherwise,” you rebutted.
He rolled his eyes, still sassy as ever. “Whatever. I don’t like cameras. Is that a crime now?”
“Of course not. I just think that it’s funny that you have no problem singlehandedly taking down entire crime syndicates, but a red carpet is where you draw the line.”
Jason shook his head disapprovingly at you, but followed your lead as you easily navigated through the space. Years of mind numbing small talk with boring wealthy people prepared you beautifully for this evening, while Jason trailed behind you like a big lost puppy.
The evening became significantly easier the more you drank, and the waiters seemed to be telepathically linked to you, bringing you more champagne the minute your glass was emptied.
You usually were a little bit better with holding your alcohol, but waiters kept bringing you glasses of champagne, and you couldn’t exactly say no to them.
“Don’t you think you should slow down?” Jason asked in a whisper as you grabbed yet another glass.
“Come on. Everyone knows that this is the only way we make it through these events,” you took a hefty sip and eyed a passing plate of hors d'oeuvres.
“Sure. But we haven’t even talked to Ted yet, and you’re already multiple drinks in.”
“Whatever. Let’s go find him then,” you abruptly walked off and Jason, once again, trailed behind you.
As it turned out, looking for one particular bald old man in a sea of bald old men was like finding a needle in a haystack. In fact, it was probably more difficult than finding a needle in a haystack. Eventually, you made the executive decision to find your seat at the table and sit down. The social hour was almost over anyway, and that was a surefire way to meet Ted.
“Remind me not to ask for your help with any other missions,” Jason muttered as he sat down next to you.
“You’re such an asshole. Sorry I’m not a professional like you, dude.” If looks would kill, Jason would be a dead man under your glare.
“I know you aren’t really familiar with the concept of work, but you’re not usually supposed to drink on the job.” He glared right back at you.
Your glare-off was interrupted by the very needle in the haystack you’d been looking for. Your attention was drawn away from your boyfriend-for-the-night to one Ted Stetson. You resisted the urge to stare as you watched him pull a chair out for his mistress-turned-wife, Lara Stetson.
The woman looked at you first, meeting you with an almost devious smile and a quick look up and down that you weren’t sure if you should read as being checked out. Before you could make a decision, she stuck her hand out to you.
“I’m Lara, it’s nice to meet you,” she practically purred. You wasted no time introducing yourself right back, catching Jason in your peripheral vision doing the same with Ted. Right, you two were a pair for the evening, and you needed to behave as such—especially in front of the Stetsons.
You then introduced yourself to Ted, who made a comment about needing to work with both your father and Jason’s sometime. Somehow, despite the glasses of champagne you consumed, you had enough self control not to roll your eyes into the back of your skull.
To be completely honest, you had a bad habit of zoning out as soon as someone even uttered the name of your father’s business. You would smile something polite, yet hollow, trying your absolute best to perform sincerity while masking the vacancy in your stare.
Luckily for you, you had a date tonight. A date that you could use as a prop during your dissociation.
You played up your affection to Jason as Ted spoke, going on a soliloquy about innovation in Gotham. You wrapped your arm around your fake boyfriend and rubbed your hand up and down his side, unsubtly feeling an odd angle of his abs, all while leaning as close into him as possible. You let out pleasantries every now and then when it seemed like Ted was looking for some kind of reaction out of you, but focused more on your performance than everything else.
If someone were to ask you how good of a job you thought you were doing, your answer would be pretty damn good. Ted seemed to enjoy talking to you two, and there was no missing that you and Jason looked like a happy couple.
Once Ted finally stopped talking your ear off, Jason leaned into your ear. Probably to whisper sweet nothings to you, or something else that young, non PDA-averse couples did.
“I can’t tell if he likes us or not,” he said in a low timbre.
His words didn’t warrant a giggle, but you did so anyway. Champagne always made you giggly. “Of course he does.”
Jason didn’t seem half as amused as you were, despite the veneer of happiness he was trying to exude to the table.
As subtly as he could, Jason moved your hand off of his torso. “You’re laying it on too thick,” he said, his tone stern. “It’s freaking them out.”
You glanced at the couple across from you, then at the man whispering into your ear. If Ted and Lara were disturbed by you ‘laying it on too thick,’ they certainly weren’t showing it. You hadn’t realized how uptight Jason became during missions. Where was the considerate man who helped you put in your contacts just a few hours ago?
Lara caught your eye and gave you an almost smug smile, like she knew something you didn’t. Between Jason’s disappointment in you and the puzzling vibe you were getting from your target, you felt the room felt a few degrees warmer. You instinctually reached for your champagne flute once more. You were gonna need a lot more alcohol to get through the night.
By the time you left the gala, you’d consumed roughly half your body weight in champagne. Between the never-ending alcohol and spending the evening with your hands on various parts of Jason’s body, you didn’t feel like the evening was a total failure. Jason all but stuffed you into the back of the car, doing his best to maintain his composure in the face of relentless paparazzi and flashing lights.
You slumped in your seat, exhausted from socializing and drowsy from the alcohol. Even in your inebriated state, you could practically feel the sulking coming off of the man in the seat next to you.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, words slightly slurred.
“What’s wrong?” Jason repeated, bewildered by your lack of awareness. “You blew this whole thing!”
“I did not!” you turned to look at his disbelieving face. “You think I blew your plan?”
“Yes! You were groping me all night and making those rich assholes uncomfortable!”
You thought back to the now slightly blurry evening, recalling your hand resting on Jason’s knee while someone spoke on stage, and leaning into him after you’d finished eating dinner. You attempted to call to mind Ted’s reaction when you pecked Jason’s cheek, but couldn’t seem to remember the expression on his face.
“Come on, they were not uncomfortable,” you insisted. Jason was not buying what you were selling. It looked like you were going to have to change approaches. “Jason, I did not ruin your stupid plan.”
He scoffed, completely flummoxed by your defensiveness. “My plan was stupid? You wanna know what’s really stupid? Drinking every glass of champagne in sight while you’re supposed to be working,” the man drew out every syllable of the last word.
“Stop, just stop,” you huffed. You were already over this conversation. In fact, you were over the conversation before it even started. “Stop lecturing. The damage is already done.”
“Well, the damage shouldn’t have been done in the first place-”
You cut Jason off by speaking right over him. “You’re being dramatic. They still liked us. They were just being reserved. We’ll probably be invited to their orgy, or whatever weird group couples therapy shit they like to do with their friends anyway.”
“That’s easy for you to say, you don’t have a dog in this fight! You just made my job so much harder for no reason!”
“Stop being an asshole! Maybe if you wanted me to behave a certain way, you should’ve given me some instructions beforehand instead of just giving me puppy dog eyes in your apartment. Ever think of that?” you looked out the window wistfully, although you couldn’t see much through the tint.
“Maybe tell the next girl you drag out to this kind of thing that she’s not allowed to have fun, huh?” you turned to look at Jason as you spoke, who unsurprisingly, was still pouting.
“This is not supposed to be fun! What don’t you understand about work? Working?! This was not one of your little parties, okay?”
“Thanks, Jason. Wish I got that memo a little sooner,” you rolled your eyes. “Will, foot on the gas a little? I’m tired of… this.”
Ever the dutiful driver, William sped up the vehicle.
“This? Do you hear yourself? Do you see how you’re acting right now?” You could tell that Jason was increasingly irritated when he began to gesture with his hands as he spoke.
“I’m not talking to you anymore,” you announced, petulant and stubborn as ever.
Jason sighed deeply. “Brat,” he muttered under his breath.
“What?!” you practically roared.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“No, say it with your chest.”
“Fine. You can just be a bit of a brat when you’re drunk.”
You scoffed. “You did not say all of that. You know, you really need to work on your communication skills. You were so shitty at it as a boyfriend, and you’re still terrible at it now.”
Jason was quiet as he took in your words, still frowning as he attempted to formulate a sentence. “Is that what this was about? Getting revenge on me for being a bad boyfriend?” Despite the heat of his words, he sounded wounded, as if admitting his faults was physically harming him.
“Honestly Jason, I don’t care enough about you, or this stupid plan to go out of my way to sabotage it. I was trying to do a nice thing, and I guess I didn’t do it to your standards, so now you’re being ungrateful. That makes which one of us the brat? William, please, what’s our ETA?” you asked, ready to never have to see Jason again.
“Just five minutes,” he responded, focused on the road despite the chaos unfolding behind him.
“Maybe just shut the fuck up for the next five minutes and we won’t have to see each other ever again, hmm?” you said as snarkily as you felt.
To your surprise, Jason didn’t even attempt to get a last word in. Whatever. He shouldn’t have been arguing with a drunk person anyway.
Your driver pulled up to Jason’s apartment and the man beside you wordlessly got out. The second the door closed behind him you huffed out, “Fucking asshole.”
You imagined he did the same on the other side of the door.
— — — —
In the days after your argument, you felt an odd sense of satisfaction. Yes, you were annoyed that Jason made such a stink about you being a little much and argued with you about it for what felt like a lifetime on the drive back from the gala, but the time he’d argued with you was the most alive you’d felt in ages.
You were still basking in the feeling of experiencing any emotion at all when Jason’s name popped up on your phone, seemingly without reason, in the middle of the day. Maybe he wanted to call and apologize. You couldn’t say that you would be opposed to that.
After letting your phone vibrate until nearly the last ring, you picked up the call.
“Are you free Friday night?” he asked without any fanfare. Not a greeting, no small talk, no apology for how poorly he’d treated you. “Ted’s assistant just called.”
“I could probably move some stuff around,” you said, despite being utterly plan-less Friday. “What am I moving things around for?”
“Ted invited us to a party.”
You immediately broke out into disbelieving laughter. “Oh my god. You dick. You gave me so much shit that night, and look at us! Tell me you’re sorry.”
“I…” he sighed so loud it was audible over the phone. “I’m sorry. I was wrong.”
“Yeah you were. How’re you gonna make it up to me?” you asked, having way too much fun with the situation.
“I don’t know. What do you want me to do?”
“Mmm, I haven’t decided yet,” you leaned back into your sofa.
“Are you coming Friday or not?” he asked before you could come up with yet another sadistic punishment for him.
“I dunno. Depends.”
“On what?”
“Are you gonna argue with me all night again?”
“No,” he had the tone of a student being apprehended for their bad behavior.
You stayed silent on your end of the line just long enough to create suspense. You imagined Jason holding his breath on the other end of the line, hoping that he hadn’t offended you so much that you would selfishly tank his plan. Realistically, that was what he deserved. Still, you were pretty sure you would accept any excuse just to spend more time with the man.
“Then I’ll be there,” you finally announced. It was no secret that you were delighting in his suffering. You were going to rub this in his face all night long.
“Good. Still have the contacts from the other night?”
God, did you have those contacts. You fought in the mirror for an hour to get them out before calling a friend for assistance. With you calling so late, she was equally as drunk as you, and the two of you struggled even more before they were finally out. You wondered just how much footage of the ordeal was captured.
“Yeah,” you said simply, completely understating the time you spent with said contacts.
“Bring ‘em. Don’t worry, I’ll help you take them out this time.”
You hung up without a second thought.
— — — —
Your communication was sparse leading up to Friday, with Jason texting you some information about the dress code and the little information he had about what the party actually entailed. As much as you were still annoyed with him for his treatment of you after the gala, you couldn’t help but to be excited about going to the event with him. It had been a long time since you were excited about anything. In fact, you couldn’t remember the last time you felt excitement.
You were practically buzzing in the backseat by the time Jason got in and sat down beside you.
“Hey,” he greeted stiffly.
“Hey,” you responded, trying at the very least to seem more relaxed than him.
An awkward, loaded silence hung in the air. William cleared his throat from the front seat. “Should we head out?” the older man asked.
“Let’s get the contacts in first, then we can go,” Jason replied, looking into the rearview mirror. “Did you bring them?” he directed the question at you.
You nodded and produced a small case with the devices inside them. Jason wordlessly got right to work, leaning in close to you once again.
“Sorry. For last time,” he said in a low tone once he put the second contact in. He was way too close for comfort. Despite your negative feelings towards the man, there was still an underlying tension that was becoming more and more difficult to ignore. You weren’t sure that you could trust yourself not to do something you’d regret when he was this close to you.
Using your better judgment, you nudged him away from you. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just focus on tonight.”
The two of you drove in an uncomfortable silence, Jason only speaking up to let you know that his bike was parked a few blocks away from the party in the event that something went sideways. You were sure that you would be fine, but even if things went terribly wrong, you knew that you were in good hands with Jason. He may have been a bad ex, but he was a fantastic vigilante.
“Remember, we’re a happy couple,” Jason briefed you on the elevator up to the penthouse.
“I can be professional,” you assured him. He didn’t look fully convinced. You wrapped your arm around him and gazed up at the man as willingly as you could manage–which unfortunately wasn’t terribly difficult–to prove your point. “See?”
The doors to the elevator opened while you were still trying to show Jason just how much of a professional you could be. When you turned your head, you did not expect to be greeted by the very couple you were there to surveil.
“Welcome,” Lara cooed, all while giving Jason a very unsubtle up-down. You were starting to feel like the only way the woman knew how to communicate was through seductive vocal cadence and predatory looks. You had enough nerve to feel uncomfortable on Jason’s behalf.
“Thanks for having us,” Jason glanced at you, then to Ted, who you then realized was also looking at you like a piece of meat. You desperately needed a drink.
Your wish was quickly granted, as one of the first places you were directed to was a kitchen overflowing with flutes of champagne. Jason gave you a knowing look, but you picked up a flute anyway.
“Just one,” you said, both to reassure your fake partner and remind yourself.
“Did you see the way Ted was looking at you?” His voice was hushed, tone almost gossipy. Maybe you were just imagining it, but you could almost hear the anger seeping into his words.
“How couldn’t I? I literally wanted to crawl out of my skin,” you took a sip of your drink and attempted to forget just how excited Ted looked to see you.
“I just don’t understand why they only want to be around monogamous couples if they’re going to act like… that around them,” he glanced around the room conspiratorially, trying to get a grasp on who else had been invited to the party.
“Open relationship?” you suggested as you looked over the assortment of appetizers on the kitchen counter and considered which item you would be eating first.
“Do they really strike you as the type?”
You scanned the room, watching other couples socialize with each other. Your eyes swept the assortment of hors d'oeuvres once again, this time, focusing on the tacky pineapple shaped platters holding said snacks, rather than the snacks themselves. Finally, you caught another look at Ted, who was actively being particularly touchy with one of his guests.
“Maybe?” you replied with uncertainty. You would be the first one to talk about rich people being into slightly more unconventional ways of living, but you couldn’t quite place what his deal was. Ted struck you more as the type to hunt other humans for sport, rather than being a little freakier in the bedroom—although those things were far from mutually exclusive.
As much as you would love to continue your deep dive into Ted Stetson’s psyche, you recognized that your conversation would have to pivot as another pair approached you and Jason.
You immediately recognized them as people you’d met at the gala, but you couldn’t quite place their names. The senator and her husband. Maybe if you were slightly more civically engaged, you would’ve remembered.
The senator greeted you with a grin, and her husband greeted Jason with yet another unabashed up-down. What was it with people checking out your date tonight?
You two immediately got into character—which was much less difficult with you feeling a little possessive over your fake partner—with Jason instinctually wrapping an arm around your waist.
“Has anyone told you that you look stunning tonight?” The senator complimented you earnestly.
You glanced over at Jason and decided to really sell the performance of a happy couple. After all, that was what he recruited you for. You did your best to make adoring eye contact with him, which wasn’t all that difficult considering how unfortunately fond you were of the man.
“I’ve been getting an earful all night from this one, but I think he’s a little biased,” you winked at him. “It’s nice to hear it from someone else.”
Jason smiled back at you, his eyes soft and sweet as he matched your lovey gaze. Now that was a look that you could get used to.
“Oh, to be young and in love,” her husband longingly sighed. You two must’ve been doing a better job at pretending to be a couple than you ever could’ve hoped.
After making small talk longer than you really would’ve liked to, you could sense that the man by your side was beginning to get a little antsy. As the couple talking with you went off to get more drinks, he pulled you a little closer and began to whisper in your ear.
“I’m gonna go look for his office,” he told you in a hushed tone. Noticing the couple approaching you once more, you giggled like Jason was whispering sweet nothings into your ear. “You okay with me stepping away?”
You nodded and smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek before Jason walked away, and was replaced with the couple once more.
You didn’t realize how much less fun it was to lie about your relationship without Jason by your side to riff with you. Especially when it seemed like all anyone wanted to talk about was your relationship.
“How long have you two been seeing each other?” a new woman asked.
“Oh, a few years now,” you smiled politely.
“Has he popped the big question yet?” her husband was all over her as she spoke. He was casually grabbing her ass as if it was the most normal thing in the world as you tried to hold a conversation. It was genuinely a bit distracting.
“No, not yet,” you paused for dramatic effect. “But I think he’s going to soon. I heard through the grapevine that he’s been looking at rings.”
You wished Jason were here to hear you speculate on him proposing to you. The same Jason who woke up one random day and decided that he no longer wanted to be with you. The thought of him being a husband was truly laughable.
“Speaking of which, where is he? I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“He just ran off to the bathroom,” you covered for him. “Even after all these years, he gets nervous before these things.”
This seemed to pique the interest of the couples talking to you.
“You guys have done this before?” A woman you recognized from some movie asked, sounding more impressed than curious.
You were more than a little bit confused. Of course you’d gone to social events and parties before. Were you missing something?
“Of course,” you said with a smile, hoping that it would mask the confusion you were experiencing. The couples looked at each other, then at you. Something didn’t feel quite right. “I think I’m gonna go check on Jason.”
You walked away without much fanfare, heading down the hallway that you saw your faux-partner disappear down before. You began to open doors, hoping that you would eventually find the office. Instead, you were bizarrely met with several bedrooms.
For whatever reason, you began to feel uneasy. Between the copious bedrooms and the strange statements from the guests, you weren’t sure if you were about to open the door to a sex dungeon, or if you were going to witness a human sacrifice.
At last, you opened a door and were met with Jason Todd sitting at a desk. You stepped in and closed the door, breathing out a sigh of relief as you did so.
“These people are so damn weird,” you huffed. “Can you hurry up? I don’t know how much more solo lying I can take.”
“This shit is taking forever to download,” he replied, gesturing at the hard drive plugged into the device.
“How much longer? I can’t cover for you forever and I’m running out of excuses. Half of the people in there think you’re in the bathroom having nervous shits.”
“You couldn’t think of anything else?!”
“You didn’t give me much to work with,” you approached the desk and opened a drawer. “Should I have told them that you’re on a secret mission and that you like to snoop around at parties?”
He looked at you with a straight face. “Whatever. I guess I could be better at giving you… some direction.”
You laughed at his reluctance to admit his faults. You could only imagine the blow to his ego that one statement gave him. “I might need you to say that one more time, just to be sure the recording picked it up.”
“Stop, or I’m never apologizing to you again,” he spun in the office chair to face you.
“That would be a shame, since I’m sure you’ll do something else tonight that’s apology-worthy.”
“Come on. I’m trying to be better. I thought we were both on our best behavior?” he gestured at the half-full glass in your hand.
“I am! This is still my first glass,” you explained. “Although, I might need another to get through this.”
“Really? I thought you were acting pretty well with just one glass. Truly, an Oscar-winning performance.”
You resisted the urge to tell him just how easy it was to pretend to be in love with him. “I don’t know… I’m kinda getting a bad vibe. I mean, did you see how many bedrooms are in this place?”
“There are definitely… a few. But it’s probably nothing to worry about,” he dismissed.
You sighed at the dismissal, but checked the computer screen on the desk. A loading bar with an estimate of fifteen minutes looked back at you. You just hoped the device was overestimating the amount of time it needed.
“What else did you guys talk about?” Jason asked. although you were sure it was more out of desire to pass the time than actual curiosity.
“Oh, nothing much. Just our upcoming engagement,” you said casually, fully anticipating the snickers coming from the man at the desk.
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not. We should probably start coming up with our guest list. Obviously, we’ll invite your family.”
“Yours can come too. Except I’m not sure if your mom would want to. She never liked me.”
“Are you kidding? She’s seeing her daughter’s first wedding no matter what. Besides, of everyone I’ve ever brought home, you’re probably her favorite. She just has a unique way of showing it.”
“Wait, you’re anticipating having more than one wedding?” Jason asked with a laugh.
“In this hypothetical where I’m marrying you? Hell yes,” you scoffed. “Knowing us, multiple of those weddings would be with you.”
“Surely we’d just start going to the courthouse to get married if we’re doing it that frequently.”
“Oh god, they’d know us by name. They’d see us walk in and just sigh and have the marriage license or divorce papers ready.”
“That’s kinda romantic, in its own fucked up way.”
“Right?” you sighed almost dreamily as you thought about it. Sure, you and Jason were just joking, but there was a point in your life where you imagined what your wedding ceremony with the man would look like. “I feel like that’s the theme of our relationship.”
“I can’t say that I disagree,” he paused. “Is this romantic in its own fucked up way?”
“Do you want me to answer honestly?”
Your conversation was interrupted by a loud creaking sound that immediately caught your attention. You turned your head to look at the door, and when the creaking inevitably came again, you recognized it as the sound of a floorboard.
When you heard it again, this time sounding slightly closer, your head immediately shot over to Jason.
“Did you hear that?” you hurriedly whispered. The creaking continued, the sound of footsteps growing louder with each passing moment.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself and began to look around frantically.
You joined him in his panicked search, trying to find somewhere to hide. Your first thought was under the desk, but there was a massive gap between the bottom of the desk and the floor that would immediately reveal your location. You looked back at the massive draping curtains blocking the window, and found that they had the same issue. What did rich people have against things going all the way down to the ground? You briefly considered hiding behind the door, but that location felt much too risky.
While you were paralyzed in thought, Jason wordlessly stood up. You were certain that he was going through his own analysis in his head, but his lack of direction to you felt concerning.
“What are you doing?” you whisper-shouted. “Help!”
He approached you where you were leaning against the desk, and you only grew more confused. The steps were getting so much closer, and neither of you had a solution.
“Sorry,” Jason said simply. You couldn’t tell if he was apologizing for how utterly unhelpful he’d been or for getting into this mess in the first place.
This was such a terrible idea. You didn’t know much about the situation, but you knew that Ted was a strange, powerful man, who would likely not be pleased if he found out you two were stealing confidential information from him. You couldn’t help but imagine what terrible thing they would do to you at this already bizarre party. You just hoped that Jason would be first up when they decided to hunt you two for sport.
Jason cut off your spiral when he lifted you onto the desk and began kissing you. It took you a second to fully register what was going on, especially after previously imagining yourself running through the streets of Gotham with homicidal billionaires behind you, but once you realized what was happening, you kissed him back with enthusiasm.
Your enthusiasm was the sign he needed to intensify the kiss, his tongue in your mouth and hands in your hair as the two of you made out on Ted Stetson’s desk.
Although it was a little much, it was oddly nice. While you’d done smaller acts of physical intimacy to really sell your target on your relationship, you’d been dancing around the large elephant in the room. In the time that you’d broken up, you’d forgotten how nicely you two worked together, like two puzzle pieces slotted in place, exactly where they were supposed to be. In remembering just how much you enjoyed kissing Jason, you lost sight of your goal—which had shifted from discreetly hiding to just being caught in an awkward position.
As promised by the sound of approaching footsteps, the door to the office opened. Despite hearing the squeak of door hinges, you continued to make out with Jason for a beat longer, before the two of you turned to the door to look at your unwelcome guest like two naughty deers caught in a headlight.
“Oh man, I’m sorry,” the man, who notably was not Ted, said.
You breathed out a small sigh of relief. At least his plan worked.
The man looked a little apologetic, until in a bizarre turn of events, he broke into a cheeky smile. “Getting the party started without us?”
You tried not to reveal just how puzzled you were by this statement when you looked at the intruder. In a split second, you shot Jason a quick, but loaded side eye, before your instincts kicked in and you flashed the intruder a large, unnatural smile.
“Ah, you caught us. Sorry. We’ll be back out in a minute,” you assured him. That seemed to do the trick, as he nodded understandingly, then walked out and shut the door behind him.
Jason backed off of you as soon as the door closed. “Sorry,” he sighed, breathing still a little heavy. You couldn’t tell if he was out of breath from making out, almost being caught, or both. The man in front of you looked completely disheveled—lipgloss transferred onto his lips, his hair a mess from where you were running your hands through it, and his cheeks rosy and flushed.
“Don’t be sorry. It was good quick thinking,” you stepped away from where you’d been perched at the desk and took a look at the computer monitor, which reported that it was now nearly complete. “What the hell was that guy talking about?”
“I have no clue,” he leaned over the computer and did a bit of typing before pulling the flash drive out of the computer. “You’re right though, these people are really weird.”
With the flash drive taken care of, you focused on getting yourself to look slightly more presentable. You looked at a mirror, which was oddly placed on the ceiling, and did your best to fix your hair and uneven dress.
“Do I still look crazy?” you asked once Jason got up and joined you at the mirror.
“Not at all,” he brushed a few strands of hair out of your face that you’d somehow missed. “You look really good.”
You felt heat rise to your cheeks. The combination of praise and your prior make out session were not doing you any favors. Your traitorous body. “There’s no one around. You don’t have to pretend to compliment me.”
Jason smiled like he was in on a secret that you were left out of and shook his head. “Come on.”
As the two of you walked down the never ending hallway of bedrooms, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. You did your best to swallow your nerves, to try to reason with yourself that maybe you only felt off because you’d been making out with your ex-boyfriend not even five minutes ago.
It seemed like your dynamic with Jason wasn’t the only thing that changed, as the minute you stepped back into the room, you could feel a newfound tension filling the space. One quick scan of the room told you everything you needed to know—couples were much closer than they’d been before your little rendezvous, and you could practically smell the lust in the air.
Jason seemed to pick up on this too, shooting you a concerned look.
“I’m gonna go get another drink,” you announced, waiting for a complaint that never came.
“Don’t leave me alone with these people,” Jason said after a beat, as if he’d been weighing out his annoyances in this situation and decided that you drinking was less offensive than whatever strange event was going on around him.
The man followed you diligently, his attempts to be your guard dog falling flat and making him look more like a lost puppy than anything else. You paid him no mind, opting to pick up two flutes of champagne. When you turned back around, you found yourself met with even more unwelcome company. You were starting to notice a pattern of that.
The CFO of GothCorp seemed to appear out of thin air, her husband by her side and looking at Jason like he was going to devour him whole on the spot. With how this night was going, you wouldn’t be shocked if that exact course of events played out right in front of you.
“Wow, you’re ripped,” she commented, then reached out to touch his chest. Somewhere deep in your stomach, you felt a match light a small fire. While you had no real right to feel jealous, you felt the feeling all the same.
“What’s your split?” her husband asked with a bite of his lip. It was taking everything in you not to yank Jason away from the scene and scold him for humoring these people, as if that wasn’t both of your goals for the night.
“I like to do push, pull, legs. But I switch it up every now and then,” he glanced over at you, and you couldn’t tell if it was a cry for help or a smug acknowledgment that he was currently the center of attention.
“Do you two work out together a lot?” this question was directed at you. Finally, they were no longer eyeing Jason like a piece of meat. Unfortunately, they were now eyeing you like a piece of meat.
“Yeah. We actually share the same personal trainer,” you lied, hoping that the detail would help to sell your story.
“How do you two feel about cardio?” her spouse asked with a bit of a cheeky grin. For the life of you, you couldn’t imagine what was so cheeky about struggling to climb up a Stairmaster.
“I do it, mostly because Jason’s an absolute freak about cardio,” you recalled the one singular time where you did attempt to work out with Jason. While you didn’t mind moving weights, you struggled ridiculously to keep up with him during the cardio part of his workout. That day you decided you really never could be a vigilante.
Your comment seemed to pique their interest. You hadn’t realized their interest could be piqued any more than it already was.
“Do you ever do cardio… with other couples?” the CFO asked, still looking as pleased as a human being could be with themselves, despite the stupidity of her question. Like seriously, how stupid of a question was that? Why did they care so much about cardio?
You blinked once before realizing that they weren’t asking about cardio after all. Suddenly, all of the touching and weird comments and never-ending bedrooms made sense. Ted Stetson was a swinger. You two were at a massive swinger party, with just about every important and powerful couple in the city.
“I have to take a call,” you abruptly announced, your hand shaking as you dug into your pocket to grab your device. “I’m so sorry. It’s my friend. She’s been watching my terminally ill cat. It’s probably an emergency.”
Jason shot a horrified look at you that immediately told you everything you needed to know. He didn’t want to be left alone with these people either.
You did the one trick you had up your sleeve and began to think about all of the terrible, sad things you could manage. Orphaned puppies. Your DoorDash order being late. The time your dad threatened to stop letting you be an authorized user on his credit card. How you felt when Jason broke up with you. The thoughts in quick succession brought salt water into your eyes, and you began openly weeping.
“It’s probably over for Mittens,” you sniffled and dabbed at the corner of your eye. “Jason, can you-” dramatic sniffle, “Can you come with me?”
“Of course, honey,” he cooed and wrapped an arm around you, like the supportive fake boyfriend he was.
You two wasted no time evacuating the space, your phone pressed to your ear as a prop. “How do we get out of here? The elevator is way too obvious,” Jason muttered.
As you attempted to navigate the penthouse, you couldn’t help but notice the escalation in the scene unraveling in front of you. Couples were no longer just talking, but beginning to find themselves in very precarious positions. You wanted no part of that.
“Someone mentioned stairs earlier. They should be,” your eyes quickly flitted around the room, before they fixed on a door clearly marked exit. “Over there?”
You two made a beeline for the exit, still half-heartedly attempting to look like you were busy taking a call. The couples you passed all seemed so preoccupied with their own situations that they paid you no mind. By the time you made it to the door, you could’ve sworn that you slipped through without a single soul noticing.
That was, until you heard a loud, “Hey!”
The word kicked you into overdrive. Jason began to sprint down the stairs, leaving you far behind as you attempted to get down in your heels that were far too high to be doing any sort of physical activity in. It didn’t help that you were somewhat out of shape, especially compared to a vigilante. Maybe you really should’ve joined Jason for more of his insane cardio sessions.
You huffed and puffed as you ran down the spiraling stairs that never seemed to end. Although Jason was several paces in front of you, he was kind enough to wait and hold the door for you once you made it to the ground floor.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, the words a mixture of shock and relief as you stepped out into the cool evening air. You couldn’t believe the night that had just unfolded.
Thinking you were in the clear, you began to trudge away from the building, still attempting to catch your breath after running down the never-ending staircase.
“Hey!” you heard once more, in the same voice and cadence. God damnit. This night just seemed to never end.
Adrenaline kicked in and you began to run, Jason seeming to get the same message and taking off next to you. Of course, he remained several paces ahead of you as you at least attempted to outrun the person from the party.
“Get back here!” the partygoer yelled.
“Come on!” Jason yelled back at you.
“You try running in heels!” you cried.
“Take them off!” he shot back.
“And get ringworm and tetanus and whatever else is on the dirty streets of Gotham?” you whined, having enough mind to complain, even in the dire circumstances you were in.
“Christ,” Jason sighed, then came to a stop.
“What are you doing?” You panted once you finally caught up to the stopped man.
“Get on my back,” he ordered.
“Shut up. I can take care of myself.”
“Seriously? Now is not the time to argue. Do you want to run in heels or not?”
“Hey! You two!” The voice was certainly closer now.
It appeared that you had no choice but to jump on Jason’s back. So you did.
Shockingly, Jason was still pretty fast with you clinging onto him like a koala on a tree branch. You imagined yourself as a Gotham resident that Red Hood just saved from a burning building. Your knight in shining armor.
You were knocked out of your fantasy by the distant sound of the person chasing you. Their demands slowly became more coherent to you, and you finally made out the words that they were calling out.
“The NDA! You guys didn’t sign the NDA!”
“Jason! Slow down! They just want us to sign an NDA!” you yelled down at the man carrying you.
“Why would we sign NDAs?” he panted out the words. “Besides, we almost made it to my bike. Just hold on.”
It seemed like the person chasing you finally gave up. When you finally turned to glance back at them, they were keeled over, desperately trying to catch their breath.
After what felt like a lifetime, and might have actually been one, you spotted the familiar look of Jason’s motorcycle. You were finally in the clear. Relief was an understatement.
“What the fuck was that?” you laughed out of disbelief as you dismounted Jason.
“I’m sorry. I had no clue. If I’d known we were going to a swinger party, I would’ve warned you, or not taken you at all.”
Jason seemed concerned that you would be mad at him, when you were nothing of the sort. Was the night weird and surreal? Certainly. But had you also felt feelings you didn’t know you were still capable of? Absolutely.
You realized that you wanted to kiss him again. The adrenaline coursing through your body mixed with your general affection towards him was a dangerous combination. Despite this feeling, you maintained your composure.
“It’s fine. It was kinda fun. Is that weird to say?”
Jason breathed out his own sigh of relief. It was almost comedic to think about him caring about your feelings after all of the arguing and bickering you’d done.
“No, I kinda had fun too,” he admitted while grabbing a helmet and passing it to you. “Maybe you should consider a career in vigilantism?”
You both laughed at the ridiculousness of his comment, although you’d had a good time being his partner in crime. He helped to secure the helmet on your head before grabbing his own and sitting down on the bike.
“Want me to take you home?” he asked. You nodded, although you weren’t quite ready for the night to end.
You were mostly quiet on your ride back, your arms wrapped securely around Jason and your face pressed against his back. You’d missed riding around the city with him. You missed a lot of things with Jason.
The engine of his bike hummed as you sat at a stop light. “Didn’t they promise us dinner?” you thought out loud.
“Yeah,” Jason chuckled as he recalled that detail. “You hungry?”
“I could eat,” you said coyly, pleased that you’d killed two birds with one stone in satisfying your hunger and prolonging your time with Jason.
“What do you want?” he asked, looking back at you.
“Surprise me?”
That was how you two ended up sitting on a rooftop, a box of greasy and cheap pizza sitting between you.
“You’re much more sentimental than you let on,” you commented as he tossed you two packets of red pepper flakes, remembering exactly how you liked to dress up your pizza.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied without making eye contact. He definitely knew what you were talking about.
“You can’t take me to the place where we first met and deny that you’ve still got a soft spot for me,” you nudged him.
You still remembered that night as if it was yesterday. You’d been abandoned by your friends after a long night out, and in your impaired judgment, you climbed up a random fire escape. After nearly slipping and falling several times, you finally made it to the top of the building.
You recalled thinking about how beautiful the city looked as you dangled your legs off the side of the building, you remembered wondering what would happen if you fell off. When you pictured the memory, you could still feel the cold evening breeze, the sound of rocks crunching under boots, and the distinct scent of pizza filling your nose as you were joined by unexpected company.
You remembered how grateful you were when the then-stranger offered you a slice after a long period of awkward silence, how the two of you couldn’t seem to stop talking after that. As you watched the sun rise on the rooftop, you noticed the way the early morning light fell beautifully on Jason’s face. You were pretty sure you were in love with him from that point on.
That night felt almost magical, mythologized in your mind. You knew it meant something to Jason too, or else you wouldn’t be sitting right back where everything started.
“You deserve something nice after the night I just put you through,” he said shyly. You knew it embarrassed him, but you liked the moments where you noticed his demeanor come down–the moments that reminded you how hard it was for him to keep the façade of toughness up around you. You wondered if you’d see a rosy tint on his cheeks if it’d been slightly less dark outside.
“See? Soft spot,” you teased while opening up the pizza box between you.
“I think this is a pot, kettle situation,” Jason replied while fishing out a piece of pizza and beginning to chew. “What other ex would you be willing to pretend to date?”
“Well, maybe if Dan asked me nicely…” you teased. “Obviously I still care about you, Jason. I think the way you broke up with me was bullshit and I think you can be kinda an asshole sometimes, but for whatever reason, I do still like being around you.”
He nodded as he chewed, seemingly taking in your words. “You know that I never really got over you, right?” he said it like the statement was as obvious as stating that it was cold outside.
“What?” you responded, pausing mid-bite as you attempted to make sense of what he was saying. “Why’d you break up with me then?”
“I don’t know. I was scared that I liked you too much and you were gonna leave me eventually. I guess I thought I’d beat you to the punch.”
“Are you fucking joking?” you were shocked to hear this explanation. You’d been so blindsided when Jason broke up with you seemingly out of blue, and you spent far longer than you’d like to admit ruminating on everything you’d done wrong in the relationship that led you to that point. To learn that Jason broke up with you purely because he was scared that one day, you would do the same thing to him. “You have problems, Jason. You need to get serious help.”
“I know. Sometimes I wonder if I’m just gonna sabotage every relationship I get into,” he confessed.
“That seems like a great conversation starter with a therapist,” you replied before sighing deeply and looking out at the Gotham skyline. “In the spirit of honesty, you were the first person that I like, genuinely loved. It basically killed me when you said it was over out of nowhere and just cut me off cold turkey. I could probably count on one hand how many times I got out of bed in that week after you left.”
“I’m sorry,” Jason sounded more apologetic than you’d ever heard him before. “I really am. If I’d known how bad it was for you, I would’ve done things differently. Why didn’t you tell me to fuck off when you saw me again?”
“Well… soft spots, or whatever,” you refused to make eye contact, afraid of what you might say or do when his sad eyes were directed at you.
“Even after everything?” he asked. The more he spoke, the more embarrassed you felt. You really should’ve moved on, and it wasn’t for lack of trying—there was just something about your relationship with Jason that kept you wanting to come back for more.
You decided that you were done with this conversation. “Just eat your pizza.”
The two of you ate in silence for several minutes, only the sound of your chewing and the bustling city filling the air between you. It was much easier to eat wordlessly than to have to think about the state of your relationship.
After a long period of quietness, you finally spoke up.
“What I’m about to say is only because we’re getting everything off our chests. It doesn’t mean anything. But I never really got over you either.”
“Wow,” he said the word slowly, like he was considering your words as he spoke. “Where do we go from here?”
“Honestly… Can you take me home?” you asked without really thinking. The night had been long enough as it was. Had you known that your pit stop for dinner was going to turn into a reflection on everything that went wrong in your relationship, you probably would’ve gone home sooner.
“Yeah, of course,” Jason said, taken back by your abrupt request for departure.
You didn’t exchange much conversation on the ride back to your apartment as you fell deep in thought about the information you’d learned that evening. Clearly, the two of you had unfinished business. Now, it was a question of whether or not you would actually attempt to finish said business.
“Thanks for the ride,” you said while taking off the helmet he’d given you. You wasted no time walking away. You were in desperate need of time to think over the situation.
“Hey, wait,” Jason called after you as you began to walk away. You turned to look at him, and part of you hoped that he was going to make a grand show of asking for you back. “I promised to get the contacts out this time.”
You hoped that your face didn’t give you away the disappointment you felt.
“Oh. Right. Wanna come up with me?”
It was strange seeing Jason in your apartment again when it was just the two of you. You had this strange, nagging feeling that anything could happen in that moment. You led him to your kitchen sink so he could wash his hands and hoisted yourself onto your own counter while his back was turned to you.
“Thank you for all your help tonight,” the man said while approaching you. “And thank you for the gala. You don’t even know how much you’ve helped me.”
“No problem. It was fun working with you, even when you were kinda a dick.” Seeing Jason smile so genuinely, so up close to you made your heart do a backflip in your chest. You actively had to muster all of your self control to not kiss him.
“I’m glad you had a good time. I really liked working with you too, even though you have a penchant for drinking too much at these things,” he looked up at you on the counter. It was your turn to smile now. “Are you ready for me to take them out?”
You nodded, which was Jason’s sign to get to work. He squinted as he looked at you, his brows drawn in with focus as he tried to get the contacts out without hurting you. You couldn’t help your gaze from going soft on him, and you hoped that he chalked the heart eyes you were giving him up to you trying to make his retrieval easier for him.
He looked so handsome when he was this focused on you. Your heart beat so hard and quickly, you could practically feel the blood rushing through your body. Everything in you was screaming at you to just make a move while you still could. Jason didn’t even realize that there was a war actively waging in your body, with your heart screaming at you to do something while your brain insisted on doing nothing.
In the end, your heart won out. After Jason secured the second contact into a case, you grabbed his suit lapels and kissed him. You waited for Jason to pull away and looked disgusted at you, but that moment never came. He kissed you back with just as much fervor.
Though you’d kissed earlier that night, this felt totally different. For once, you were doing something for yourself, not for the appearance of being a happy couple, or to create a distraction, but just for you. It was exhilarating. You tried to savor every single second of the kiss while it lasted, knowing that you might not ever get the opportunity to do it again.
You had to be the one to finally move away. Pulling away from Jason felt like surfacing after being underwater, air back in your lungs after choking on water for so long.
The moment felt like it went on forever, while also not being long enough. You desperately wanted more, but knew deep down that you wouldn’t ever have what you really wanted. You couldn’t keep teasing yourself with access to the man, knowing that you could never have all of him.
“Tonight was fun,” you said a little breathlessly, still holding onto his suit. “Can I walk you out?”
You reluctantly sent him on his way, trying to shut your bleeding heart up. While the organ may have won the battle, it was your brain that won the war as you sent him out. You watched stone-faced as he took off on his bike outside your window.
When you said goodbye to him that night, it felt so final. You realized now, as he took off down the road, that it probably was.
— — — —
In the following weeks, you hadn’t heard anything from the man who’d been occupying so much space in your mind. You sent him a few celebratory emojis when you read a headline about Ted Stetson being investigated, but had largely given up hope of anything real reigniting between you two.
You easily fell back into old habits, seeking out even a semblance of the same fulfillment you got from Jason through throwing elaborate parties. You secretly hoped that by some miracle, he would remember his promise to you and end up at one, but by the third event, you started to give up hope.
You maneuvered through a trio of unrecognizable girls and a cloud of smoke in an effort to step outside and get some air. Your only close friend at the party had shown up with a date and was currently making out with them on the couch, leaving you alone yet again in the midst of people who treated you like you were invisible.
Your balcony felt like a refuge in a sea of loneliness. At least out there, you could have an actual sense of solitude. But tonight, you weren’t alone. Your eyes instantly fell on a couple sitting on the far end of the perch, leaning into each other and talking quietly. They hadn’t even turned their heads to acknowledge that someone else had joined them outside, much too caught up in their own world to notice you.
You sighed, realizing that you couldn’t even escape that sickening feeling in the one place you usually could. Still, you sat down, drawing your knees to your chest as you looked out at the city. You dug in your pocket for a half-empty box of cigarettes you typically kept in your room for moments like this, and lit the sad stick.
It was a wave of a particularly pathetic feeling that led you to bury your face in your knees, as if you were hiding yourself from the world, cigarette be damned. It was only the sound of your door sliding open that prompted you to lift your head and glance back, your hair flying into your face and obscuring your vision as you did so.
When you finally got a good look at who had just stepped onto your balcony, you couldn’t believe your eyes. If your hands weren’t occupied with the cigarette, you would’ve pinched yourself.
“Jason?” you squeaked. You’d never been so relieved to see a person.
“Can I?” he asked as he gestured at the empty space next to you. You nodded eagerly and he sat down beside you. “I looked all over the place for you. I honestly thought you left.”
“My own party?” you laughed halfheartedly, still slightly reeling from how sad you’d been just moments prior.
He shrugged, then gestured for you to pass him the cigarette that had been idly burning by your fingers. You handed it off to him without protest.
“So… what is it now? Need help with another mission?” you asked the question like it was a joke, but your heart was pounding in your chest. You desperately hoped that his answer was yes, he wanted to spend time with you, he thought you were useful to him even the slightest bit, that he wanted you in his life in some capacity.
“There’s no other mission,” he shrugged as he spoke, then brought the cigarette to his lips. He exhaled slowly before he spoke again, as if he had to work up the confidence to speak. “I just wanted to see you.”
You felt your eyes getting watery upon processing his words. There was not a single person at that party who cared enough about you to just be there for you. They were all there selfishly; to catch a glimpse of their situationship, to meet their coke dealer, to drink your alcohol or escape for the night, and they all treated you accordingly. You felt alone because you were alone—at least until Jason sat down next to you.
He put the cigarette out beside you and set his hand on top of yours. It was warm compared to your hand, which had been chilled from the breeze and the cold city evening. The action warmed your whole body up, like a nourishing cup of soup on a freezing winter day.
Suddenly, you didn’t feel so lonely anymore.
