The roar of Jason’s motorcycle echoes through the quiet streets of Gotham, cutting through the stillness of the night. You hold on tightly, your arms wrapped around his waist, the wind rushing past you as the city blurs. It’s one of those sleepless nights again, the kind where neither of you can shake the weight of the world off your shoulders, so he came to find you.

Jason doesn’t say much, he never does when he’s like this. But you can feel it in the way he handles the bike, his grip on the handlebars just a little tighter, his posture a little more rigid. He needed this, the open road and the feel of you pressed against his back, anchoring him in the way only you seem to be able to do.

After a while, he slows down and pulls over at one of his favourite spots, where the city skyline stretches out before you, Gotham’s towers glowing softly under the moonlight. The engine cuts out, leaving a deep, comforting silence as Jason leans back, glancing over his shoulder at you.

“Needed that,” he admits, his voice rough, almost like it hurts his pride to say.