Jason Todd had a reputation in the family—touch repulsed, as Dick once put it with a shrug.

He kept to himself, worked solo more often than not, and had a talent for vanishing the moment someone got too close. Emotionally or physically. He wasn’t exactly known for his warm embraces or lingering goodbyes. At best, he tolerated company for a few days before retreating back into his own orbit, radio silence and all.

So when he showed up—voluntarily—to a Wayne Foundation gala hosted by Bruce, of all people, eyebrows were already halfway up foreheads. But then came the real shock.

He wasn’t alone.

Jason had brought a date.

And not just any kind of date—the kind that made people glance twice and whisper behind champagne glasses. The kind that made Damian do a visible double take and Tim nearly choke on his drink.

Because Jason Todd, the human embodiment of "do not touch," couldn’t seem to keep his hands off them.

Whether it was a hand resting comfortably at their waist, an arm casually slung around their shoulders, or those soft, lingering touches—a kiss to the back of their hand, a brush of lips against a cheek, a barely-there press of affection to their neck when no one was looking (though many were)... it was constant. Affectionate. Natural.

And the most unbelievable part?

He didn’t seem to care that the media was watching.

In fact, he let them take pictures. Posed for a few, even—smirking slightly, holding his date close like he had nothing to hide and nowhere else he’d rather be.

Jason Todd, the once touch-averse, media-shy black sheep of the family… was acting like someone happy.

And honestly, none of them knew what to do with that.