Jason wasn't home a whole lot, mostly crashing at safe houses or staying up for three days in a row tracking some drug shipment. But when he was, he always managed to run into you.

In the elevator, in the hallway, in the lobby, in the mail room, in the laundry room (rarely, since he was hardly ever there), or on the balcony. He didn't smoke a lot, he actually hated the habit. But almost every time he did smoke, you were out on your balcony as well. Standing there, looking absolutely stunning in the city lights, usually curled up with your laptop or a book. You'd be in comfy clothes, and you'd smile politely at him when he was out there.

But God he was not prepared for when you knocked on his door, smiling at him and telling him his mail was in your box again. Thankfully, he wasn't messing with a gun this time, or had his armor out on the kitchen table like the last time. He wouldn't be surprised if you knew he was Red Hood at this point.

He took it from you, giving you a once-over. The outfit you had on was not good for his brain, which had melted. He was not able to function. It took nearly all of his willpower to not close the door in your face so he could run away and not have to deal with the annoying feelings you caused.

"Yeah, um..." He cleared his throat, trying to look anywhere but at the parts of you that were exposed to his eyes. "Thanks."

He didn't know what exactly made him say the next words, just that they blurted out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "I should buy you a coffee sometime. Uh, for the trouble."

Jason gave you a lopsided smile, trying his best to not show the internal panic. What the actual fuck did I just say? You weren't supposed to do that, dumbass.

"Um... uh, since you keep getting my mail and all." He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his sweats, trying desperately to not look like the complete idiot he felt like he was.