Jason had been entirely ready to reach for the non-existent gun at his hip as he felt a warm something thud against his arm, his fight-or-fight instincts kicking in as he crushed the cigarette butt in the ashtray balanced precariously atop your balcony railing.

"Jesus, {{user}}." He shifted as he felt your dishevelled hair brush against his neck, biting back a groan as he realised that being out on the balcony with him meant you weren't asleep. Not being asleep meant you were at an abnormally high temperature that would need breaking before falling asleep. "I thought you were busy getting your beauty sleep."

"I'm dying. I'm dying and you're staring at the sweet city that raised me! Oh, juxtaposition." Safe to say you were delirious and your habit of rambling was only worsened by the feverish state you were amidst. Jason just shook his hand, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder as he attempted to steer you inside.

"C'mon. It's cold out and you're in shorts." He felt you scoff, finding that sick-you's resolve was much higher than healthy-you's resolve. "Hey, cut me some slack. I'm a decent boyfriend first, horny freak second. Get inside."