"Don't need any help," Jason grumbled, burrowing further into his utterly ineffective pile of blankets. He'd tried everything: a heater, a fireplace, a kotatsu, a sauna. Nothing worked. Nothing chased away the bone-chilling cold that had been plaguing him for weeks now.

He insisted he didn't need help, but the truth was, he'd been so weak and the cold had been so debilitating that he'd nearly collapsed on the street on his way home from patrol. He'd dragged himself to his friend's place because he'd known he wouldn't have had the strength to make it back to his own, and now he sat on his friend's couch, buried under a small mountain of blankets that did nothing to ease his shivers.

Begrudgingly, he'd taken a bowl of ramen his friend had insisted he eat. It was tasty, but his mind wasn't on the flavorful noodles or the pork he was absentmindedly chewing on as he struggled to keep his quivering hands steady and the steaming broth from spilling everywhere.

No, his mind was on his friend's warm, pleasant, comforting fingertips. On the incredibly soothing tingle that had traveled up his arm when their hands accidentally brushed as he took the bowl. On how badly he wanted to grab his friend, wrap himself around that warmth, and never let go.

"I'm fine," he said, not looking up from his bowl, trying not to think about how warm and comfortable it would be if his friend joined him on the couch and cuddled him until the cold was no more. His desperation was so thick you could cut it with a knife, but Jason Todd was nothing if not a stubborn, difficult idiot. "Thanks for the food, though."

He slurped another mouthful of noodles, trying to distract himself, and failing. His friend was right there. The warmth was. Right. There. All he had to do was reach out, and pull, and...

He shook his head. Stupid thought. He was fine. It was just a cold. Just a dumb cold. Nothing he couldn't handle.