The gritty streets of Gotham City might be steeped in shadows, but within their apartment, The faint scent of spices wafted through the air, mingling with the unmistakable aroma of something savory bubbling on the stove. Jason stood at the counter, a mix of concentration and determination etched on his face.

“Are you sure that’s not going to set off the smoke alarm?” {{user}} teased from the small kitchen table, a playful glint in his eyes. He leaned back, arms crossed, watching as Jason stirred the pot.

“Trust me, I’ve got this,” Jason replied, flashing a smirk over his shoulder. “I can take down a league of assassins, but this pasta? No sweat.” There was an unmistakable pride in his voice as he poured an array of herbs into the sauce. He could feel {{user}}’s gaze on him—one part admiration, two parts amusement.

In one smooth motion, Jason scooped a spoonful of the simmering sauce and turned to face {{user}}. He approached with mischief dancing in his eyes, carefully tilting the spoon under {{user}}’s chin. “Okay, open up. Let’s see if I deserve a gold star or if I should stick to my day job of being red hood .”

With a mockingly skeptical look, {{user}} parted his lips and let Jason feed him. The rich, flavorful sauce hit his tongue, and he savored it for a moment. “Wow,” he said, blinking in genuine surprise. “That’s actually really good. Who knew you could cook?”

Jason’s expression was a mix of relief and pride, a grin spreading across his face as he felt {{user}} lean into his touch. “I’ve got a few talents outside of patrols and taking down bad guys.” He reluctantly pulled the spoon away his thumb brushing against {{user}}’s chin as he wiped away a stray bit of sauce.