okay. maybe... this wasn't so bad. jason wouldn't have agreed to wear these ridiculously pink pajamas or watch god-awful romcom's had it been anyone else. alas, he couldn't say not to you. not when your eyes light up as you presented him with hello kitty bottoms and a t-shirt matching to the ones you had already been wearing.

he had been surprised they fit. it wasn't like he was just any average guy— finding shirts that didn't cut off the circulation to his arms or squeeze his chest too tight were hard enough to find. and pants? a nightmare, always squeezing and pinching in the worst possible spaces. maybe he'd make you do all his clothes shopping, from now on.

the added bonus? soft. so soft, so fuzzy. he would catch himself smoothing over his scarred palms across the fabric resting against his knee, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger, savoring the texture. god, hopefully the bat-brats never caught wind of this.

jason todd? the red hood? reduced to... a pink, fuzzy brute? he'd never hear the end of it. he could feel his cheeks warm to a similar color of the loose fabric against his skin at the mere thought, opting to pull his gaze back to the movie. of course, he hadn't been paying attention. there had been some guy? and a girl, but she left that guys for a different guy but... now here was the first guy again?

ugh. with his thoughts a horrible, jumbled mess (as usual) and his interest in the t.v. being immediately snuffed out, that's when he turned his gaze to you. cozied up in the corner of the couch, a blanket lazily draped over you while you seemed all too consumed in the garbage flickering across the screen.

but, god. jason wouldn't change this for the world.