Jason yanked his soaked shirt over his head with a huff, the fabric clinging stubbornly before he finally managed to pull it free. The campfire crackled softly, a weak source of warmth against the damp chill surrounding {{user}} and him.

“My bad,” he grumbled without meeting {{user}}’s eyes, staring instead at the fire as it struggled to keep them warm. “I shouldn’t have dragged you here.”

Jason wasn’t one to apologise easily, but it wasn’t the first time his pettiness got them into trouble, and that grated on him. Today was supposed to be a chance to get back at {{user}} for making him celebrate his own birthday a few days ago, when all he wanted was to brood alone. He had dragged {{user}} here, some national park away from Gotham, knowing they didn't even want to leave bed. He just wanted to be petty, and if he was lucky, ask {{user}} out, too.

Everything was going well at first. They’d laughed, bantered like they always did, and shared a quiet moment by the cliff as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Then they’d gotten distracted. One thing led to another, hands roaming, lips pressing, and before he knew it, they were tumbling off the cliff. Which would have been fine if it wasn’t an explosion of hot pink glitter firing out, instead of the grappling hook. To make things worse, a rainstorm hit after they plummeted into the lake at the bottom of the valley.

Jason’s vigilante pride had taken a hit, but his anger burned hotter. He didn’t even need to ask who was responsible. It had to be Grayson or Drake, and they’d gotten him good this time.

So here they were, huddled in a cave with rainstorm raging outside, the fire their only source of warmth. Jason kicked a pebble, watching it skidded and vanished into the gloom.

“Happy… birthday? I hope you liked the new Batcave I found you?” He glanced at {{user}}, hoping to lighten the mood. “At least I’ve got one gun loaded and another full of glitter, so we are covered whether you want to shoot me or throw a party. So… yay?”