It's three in the morning

Rain is pouring outside, a torrential type of rain that leaves no surface untouched and no gutter without flooding. Sidewalks are being overrun from the water of the streets that can't escape into drains. There are broken umbrellas in the ditches and wet newspapers scattering over the pavement. Your feet are soaked inside of your shoes but you keep going through the rain. The umbrella doing nothing but keeping the worst of the rain and winds from your hair. But you're already soaked to the bone, trough your hooded sweatshirt, sweater and shirt. Your jeans felt heavy on your legs and you can feel how the fabric is stretching, pulling the material down from your hips.

You were clear across the city, and nowhere near your home. But you knew exactly where you were going. Even if they weren't home, you knew where the spare key was. If that was gone, they had a habit of leaving a single window unlocked. This was the east end of Gotham, not the nicest place but still better than the lower east end. You had more chance of being mugged here then actually getting murdered down there. Thankfully, it was still daylight. If the stormy clouds and darkened sky could be called that. The sun never really shines in Gotham.

Climbing the stairs you knocked once on the old steel door, no answer. You try once more, just to be safe and make sure no one really is home. When an answer doesn't come you bend over, hiding what you're doing with your umbrella, you tug a single brick free from the wall beside the door. Once it's loose enough a single silver key falls from the hole, you unlock the door and make sure you put the key back, the brick as close to exactly as you could back in its space. Even going so far as to give a little kick with the toe of your shoe to make sure it was snug back into the wall.

"Jason?" When no answer came you closed the door behind you and made sure it was locked back. Jason would kill you if you left his door unlocked. You technically weren't supposed to come to this apartment. This apartment was his back up, the one where he kept most of his work tools and he didn't like you near all that shit without him nearby. But, it was raining, bad, and you didn't have the cash to get a cab across the city back to your subsidized student apartment.

Jason was a friend from Gotham Academy back in the day. You had a good friendship with him, you thought, and then he'd died. You had grieved like any friend would but the two of you weren't exactly close. It was more a mutual friendship where you chose each other as lab partners and study buddies. When you finally graduated and gotten a grant to go to Gotham University, you still hadn't thought about the bad boy with a cute smile for years. Then the Red Hood started popping up in the news. After that, someone had paid all your debt for the semester out of nowhere. One day you got out of class, sitting outside the fence to the lecture hall was a motorcycle you would recognize from anywhere and a leather jacket you'd see from across a crowded room.

You have no idea why he revealed himself to you that day. But he did, and he talked to you long into the night and the next morning. You missed your first class the next day but you didn't care as Jason spoke about his trails and the guilt that ate at him every waking moment. The time in the pit and waking up after dying. He needed a friend. Someone who wasn't a part of his family, who didn't hold a grudge to him and someone who had no ties to any and all superhero groups. He needed you. So you listened and let him vent whenever he needed. You kept him half sane when he wanted to rage.

Soon it had come apparent Jason was your only friend, like you had any before or after him, not. You liked your books, you liked movies and you liked your solitude. Jason understood that and he was the one person you could sit in a room for long hours with and never speak a word to each other. It was a comfortable friendship that benefited you both. With that in mind, you didn't think too much on sneaking into his apartment and making yourself at home, using his washer and dryer to get your clothes clean. You would stay until the rain stopped, then text him later that you were here if he didn't show up.

With your clothes in the wash and wearing Jason's comfy, yet seriously way too big for you, clothes on your frame you settled on the single full mattress to sort out your backpack. Thankfully you'd invested in that stupid waterproof bag. With Gotham's penchant for being constantly rainy, you thought it was a good idea and were glad you had. Your expensive rental books and half full notepads were safe from the rain. Though the front pocket had been left half unzipped, and now your small collection of pens and pencils were soaked.

With your damp hair pulled up into a bun, you sat cross legged on the bed and started your work. Hoping to pass the time until you heard the buzz of the washer signal your clothes being finished. Jason's secondary apartment didn't have much for comfort. A small television sat on a wooden crate, the bed was shoved into the corner. A single dresser with taped handles on it sat on the wall, the washer and dryer were tucked into the tiny kitchen. Any other space used was covered in crates of ammo, guns and a knife rack along a wall. The windows had thick curtains blocking out all the natural light and a single blue lamp shade gave light to the small apartment.

You must have fallen asleep. Your pencil is stuck to your cheek and there's papers strewn over one side of the floor where you probably fell to the side and scattered your work. Blinking again you saw a pair of booted feet standing in the middle of your papers on the floor. Up thick, muscled thighs and legs to wide hips then crossed arms in a leather jacket that was starting to drip down on to the floor. Jason was there in all his Red Hood glory, the red helmet her wore making whirring noises and then his hands are lifting the shell from his face.

You're too tired to care anymore, you simply sat your pencil and history book down onto the floor with your papers and rolled over to the side. Ignoring Jason's soft chuckle as he shed the leather and plates from his body. You doze in and out of sleep until Jason's strong arms are moving you into half of the tiny bed. You groan and wriggle, pouting because he takes up so much fucking room.

"Listen, it's three in the fuckin' morning and I'm tired, just move your ass over and deal with it." You grumble and sigh, moving till your almost falling off the bed. When Jason gets comfortable you find yourself being moved once more. This time he's got you over top of him, your legs all tangled with his as his arm slides over your shoulders to keep you gently pinned to his chest. His other arm slung over his eyes and he groans deeply, his body slowly relaxing.

"Umm, Jason?" You were blushing, this was way closer than you had ever been with Jason. Yeah, you'd shared a bed or couch if you both fell asleep. Yes, sometimes you found yourself cuddling the burly man but this was more intimate than you had gotten with Jason Todd.

"Shhh, sleep." When he didn't say anything else you huffed, closed your eyes and let the sound of his slowing heartbeat had you back to sleep. His warmth encompassing you and you felt some hidden stress left in your shoulders just melt away as his thumb draw little circles over your shoulder where he held you to him.