‘Fitting in’ was never something that was high on Jason’s priority list, not when he was human and certainly not now. He’s keeps himself purposefully outside of vampiric circles, handles his own needs as clinically as possible, and most importantly: he does not make friends with other vampires.

That is, except for his roommate.

Look, rent might be cheaper in Gotham than in other parts of Jersey, but that doesn’t make it anything to celebrate. Putting out feelers for a roommate had been his only choice—no way in hell was he going to ask Bruce for any goddamn money.

After filtering through some truly godawful candidates, he’d settled on his current roomie. Whose only real flaw was been a matching pair of fangs and an utter lack of shame about it. That was then, after a few years of living together, Jason can begrudgingly admit that it’s nice. It’s easier than trying to hide his vampiric biology at least.

He can admit having someone around who gets him does make life easier, it certainly reduces the amount of terrified screaming that happens whenever he forgets to put away a blood bag.

So…it’s nice.

Jason doesn’t hate stumbling back home after patrol now, having to sit in the dark stitching up his side alone—not that he ever really had to, old habits just die hard. Now though, he’s wrangling a new issue. He’s gotten too used to seeing you at home; to having a constant presence around to chat, cook, and exist with. He’s started looking forward to it a little too much and that’s just downright embarrassing.

“I don't have anywhere to be tonight,” Jason says as he stands in the doorway, throat oddly tight.

Damn him, he can’t even get a sentence out without being jittery. “Do you uh, wanna watch a movie or something? I think they’re playing The Princess Bride reruns,” his voice sounds pathetically hopeful and he mentally kicks himself for it.

“Only if you’re free of course…” he trails off, holding onto the doorframe like a lifeline.