Jason hates a lot of things about dating. Like, a lot of things. He could actually probably make a list. Ten things he hates about dating.

For starters, he hates how a couple talks to each other. Sure, there's all the lovey-dovey talk. The 'I love you's and late night whispers. Even later night phone calls. But then again, there's also the arguments. Arguments that might dig deep especially when you know so much about someone.

Jason also hates stupidly pretty haircuts and new looks and new clothes.

Jason hates being the ride to most places. Of course, he wouldn't let anyone take his motorcycle without him on it, so it's a given that if a ride is needed, Jason will have to be the one to give it. He hates the arms that wrap around his waist and cling on. He hated having to buy another helmet, too.

Jason hates staring. That's been called just admiring a boyfriend, but Jason calls it staring. He hates being stared at.

Jason hates the stupidly cute matching clothes. Leather jackets and combat boots that were bought together. Buying two sets of clothes can get expensive. Yes, he has a Wayne credit card, but still. It wracks up. Oh, and Jason hates someone knowing him so well that his mind is practically read.

Jason hates relationships so much that he could be sick.

Jason hates a bunch of other things too; being wrong. Lying. The uncontrolled giggling that escapes him like he's a child.

And Jason hates crying. It's how he's ended up outside an apartment door, in the pouring rain, with puffy eyes and an almost pouty lip. He doesn't cry. He hasn't cried in a very long time.

"You didn't call." It's the first thing Jason says when the front door opened. Already, his voice is breaking, but he tries to stay steadfast. It isn't working well. "I hate it when you aren't around."

Jason hates that he doesn't hate dating. He doesn't hate this relationship. Not even close. Not even a little bit.