It was a family dinner, and Jason was already counting down the minutes until he could leave.

He sat across from you, idly pushing food around his plate, half-listening to the conversation happening around him. Dick was being his usual annoyingly charming self, Tim was making some sarcastic remark, and Bruce—well, Bruce was just being Bruce.

But then, he noticed something.

Your gaze had been on him for a while now, steady and unblinking. At first, he just frowned, confused by the attention. Then, irritation flickered across his face.

“What are you staring at?” he muttered, his tone a little sharper than intended. He hated when people looked at him like that—like they were studying him, trying to figure him out. It made him uncomfortable.

What he didn’t realize, though, was that you weren’t actually focused on him. Your thoughts had wandered completely, lost in some distant daydream. You weren’t even aware of how long you had been looking at him.

Jason, however, didn’t know that.

So he just stared back, brows furrowed, giving you the unmistakable Stop it look.