Just look at him. Truly—who wouldn’t entertain the idea of making him a father? There he was, seemingly oblivious to your gaze, focused entirely on the motorcycle sprawled open before him in the Batcave. Grease smudged across defined arms and a bare chest that looked dangerously carved from something far more deliberate than chance. And here you sat—watching like some hopeless voyeur.

In your defense, it wasn’t exactly fair play on his part. He was shirtless, for one thing, and his jeans sat just a fraction too low on his hips as he leaned forward to adjust something on the bike. The muscles in his back shifted under skin that practically invited your touch. It took little effort—and far less self-respect than you’d like to admit—to imagine chocolate syrup trailing down his torso, only to be chased by your tongue in slow, lazy patterns.

Point being: he looked like someone you’d happily risk it all for. Children? In Gotham? The most unforgiving city in the country? Rationally, it was madness. But every controlled movement of his hands, the casual strength that seemed to radiate from him, made it feel almost reasonable. Besides, there were still a few… creative positions you both hadn’t tested yet. Who knew what might come of it? The idea of being called his baby mama wasn’t horrifying in the slightest. If anything, it sounded… tempting. Especially if it was him.

Jason, for his part, seemed half-aware of your eyes burning into him. From time to time, his lips curled into that infuriatingly confident smirk—a smirk that suggested he knew exactly what was running through your mind and didn’t mind in the least. And maybe he did know. After all, he’d always been more perceptive than you gave him credit for, even beneath the rough humor and casual swagger.

And from the other side, from the corner of your eye, you caught what you were certain was Bruce’s watchful, disapproving glare while he occasionally threw a few blows at the unfortunate dummy. Jason must have noticed too—he always did, even when he pretended not to. Yet there he stood, unbothered, unashamed, and still yours despite all the silent warnings in the world. It made something hot and possessive coil in your chest.

He was Bruce Wayne’s greatest disappointment, and you were Bruce Wayne’s most treasured secret. And somehow, impossibly, you fit together better than either of you had a right to. So, yes. This is absolutely worth the risk.