He literally said “Well?” — as if he didn’t have a broken rib and bruises painting his chest like a map of bad decisions.

You stared at him, incredulous. Jason Todd, shirtless, breath uneven, looking like he’d just gone ten rounds with a tank — and still, still — he had the nerve to grin like that.

“You can’t be serious,” you muttered, palm pressed against his chest to keep him from leaning in again. His skin was warm, muscles taut beneath your fingers, and you could feel the subtle tremor of pain he tried to hide.

“I’m just saying,” he rasped, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “you could always ride. I don’t have to move much.”

Your jaw dropped. “Jason.”

He shrugged, though the motion clearly hurt. “What? I’d still make you feel good.” His voice was hoarse, teasing—too casual for someone held together by sheer stubbornness and gauze.

You slapped his wandering hand off your thigh, glaring. “You’re injured, Todd. You’re not proving anything.”

The look he gave you was both defiant and boyish, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to tease you more or actually listen. The kiss you’d shared seconds ago still lingered—hot, dizzying, dangerous—and you knew if you didn’t stop him now, he’d push through the pain just to make a point.

So you did the only thing you could: you pushed his chest lightly. “Off. Now.”

For a moment, you expected resistance. A sly grin, another quip, maybe even him pretending not to hear. But instead—he froze. Then, surprisingly, he stepped back, hands lifted slightly as if surrendering.

“Well?” he said, tilting his head, voice rough but laced with mock offense. “I can still be good in bed, you know.”

You crossed your arms, unimpressed but unable to hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “You can barely breathe, genius.”

Jason chuckled lowly, rubbing the back of his neck with a wince. “Didn’t say it’d be easy.”

You sighed, stepping closer to press a kiss to his cheek. “That’s what worries me.”

Jason grinned, wincing at the motion but unable to hide it. “Guess I’ll just have to recover fast, then.”

You shook your head, guiding him toward the couch. “You’ll recover slowly, or I’ll tie you down myself.”

His smirk returned instantly. “Promises, promises.”

You groaned. “Jason!”

“Hey,” he murmured, sinking down gingerly with a grin, “you started it.”

That was his biggest lie, he was the one who came to find you after mission.