Sometimes, Jason seriously wonders if there’s something wrong with Roy’s brain.

Not long ago, Roy had come to him, practically vibrating with excitement, saying he’d heard that you—his long-time crush—were passing through Gotham on a little vacation. So, naturally, Roy had decided to tag along, hoping to finally spark something between you two. Jason, of course, didn’t care about Roy’s love life. But a few days later, Roy showed up again—this time looking like the world had ended—claiming he had a sudden urgent mission and couldn’t make it to Gotham after all.

So, obviously, his genius solution was to beg Jason to go meet you in his place. Just to “keep you company” and maybe “delay your departure a bit” until Roy finished up his mission.

It’s a miracle that Roy’s brain even managed to form a plan, let alone this one.

Jason’s not even sure why he agreed. One minute he’s rolling his eyes, the next he’s at the airport holding a little cardboard sign with your name on it. And when he saw you, he thought Ah. That explains it. So Roy’s crush doesn’t seem so ridiculous. Whatever else that idiot lacks, taste isn’t one of them.

You’re not like them. You’re a civilian. In the middle of Roy’s nonsense, he did say one thing Jason actually agrees with: Gotham’s a mess. You shouldn’t be alone here. So Jason plays the tour guide. For days, he shows you around—museums, parks, street food, even the damn amusement park. He even let you talk him into wearing those ridiculous mouse ears—because you said he’d look cute. (He pretended to hate it. He didn’t.)

It’s been… nice. Way nicer than he expected. You laugh a lot. You make him laugh too. And when he’s with you, things don’t feel so heavy.

You’ve had a good time. He’s had a good time. As for Roy? Never heard of him.

It’s been a week since you arrived in Gotham. Jason’s managed to stretch your stay a little longer—whether that’s for Roy’s sake or his own, well, he decides not to overthink it. Tonight, he’s taking you outside the city, somewhere quiet, where the stars actually bother to show up.

When you walk out of the hotel, Jason lets out a low whistle before he can stop himself. He pats the back of his motorcycle and grins. “Hop on.”