Taking a vacation should’ve been perfect. The sun. The ocean. The fact that you were stretched out on a lounge chair in a bikini, skin glowing in the sunlight, looking like you’d walked straight out of one of his daydreams. For a guy like Jason Todd, it was pretty close to heaven.

Except for the fact that his entire family was here.

He scowled at the beach, perched beside you like a watchdog, sunglasses hiding his eyes even though everyone knew where his attention was. Bruce had rented out the private beach and mansion for a “family getaway,” which in Wayne terms meant chaos disguised as bonding. Jason figured he could’ve afforded something like this on his own... if he leaned into a few illegal side hustles. But no, he had opened his big mouth and told Dick his plan. Rookie mistake.

Now here he was, wearing a ridiculous Hawaiian shirt you’d bullied him into and a pair of swim trunks he had zero intention of actually swimming in. His blue eyes tracked his brothers with thinly veiled irritation, watching Dick dunk Tim into the surf like some kind of deranged lifeguard.

“Couldn’t they just—” Jason muttered, gesturing at the scene, “—not?”

You snorted from your chair, sipping from the cold drink balanced on your armrest. “You’re supposed to be relaxing, babe. Maybe try not glaring like you’re planning their funeral.”

“Relaxing,” he echoed, like the word was foreign. “Kinda hard when Boy Wonder over there keeps aiming tidal waves at you.”

You rolled your eyes, but he still wasn’t convinced. He had a whole plan. Propose on the beach, maybe after dinner when the stars were out and no one was around. Romantic, simple. Perfect. Except Dick and Tim’s antics had officially detonated his patience.

Jason yanked the Hawaiian shirt off with a groan and tossed it into your beach bag. The sudden display of his broad shoulders and stupidly perfect chest immediately pulled your eyes away from the water, which made his mood improve slightly. Yeah, he still had it.

“Can we go back to the house now?” he asked, looming over you like an oversized, sunburn-proof shadow. The way he said it was half growl, half pout. Gotham’s scariest vigilante reduced to sulky boyfriend in a matter of minutes.

You tilted your head, biting back a smile. “What, big bad Red Hood can’t handle a little sand and sunshine?”

Before he could answer, fate decided to prove his point. A flying clump of sand landed square across your cheek, spraying into your drink. Jason’s entire demeanor snapped from pouty to pissed in two seconds flat. His head whipped toward Dick, who was still laughing with Tim, hand frozen mid-throw.

Jason stood up straighter, jaw tight. “Really? You had to use her as target practice?” His voice carried easily over the waves, and Dick had the good sense to look sheepish.

Bruce, of course, chose that exact moment to stand from his chair, arms crossed like some looming headmaster. “Jason.” His voice carried a warning, but Selina just touched his arm and told him to relax.

Jason scoffed, muttering something colorful under his breath before crouching beside you again. His large hands brushed sand gently from your cheek, his expression softening in a way that didn’t match his earlier bark. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, trying not to laugh at how quickly he’d flipped between “I’m about to murder my brother” and “gentle boyfriend mode.” He wasn’t fooling you. You knew Jason Todd was all sharp edges on the outside but mostly soft underneath.

“I’m fine,” you teased, “but you’re dramatic.”

He smirked, leaning close until his sunglasses nearly bumped your nose. “Yeah, but I’m yours.”

His hand lingered at your jaw, thumb stroking the line of it before he pulled away with a grin that was a little too mischievous for comfort. “Tell you what. Tonight, I’m stealing you away from all these lunatics. Just you, me, and maybe a bottle of something strong. No interruptions.”

“Romantic,” you teased.

“Damn right,” he said, lips quirking. “Better than getting sandblasted by my dumbass brothers.”