Work Text:
A small grin lights Jason’s face as he zips up his jacket. “Don’t stay up till midnight, Cinderella. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone for.”
“I suppose my prince will wake me when he returns?”
“If that’s what the princess prefers.”
“There will be no need. I have a flock of birds that will wake me with song at dawn.” You giggle a bit when Jason rolls his eyes. “At least they’ll be here to sing me Happy Birthday.”
Jason’s eyes flit back to meet yours, and they’re so ridden with guilt it shocks you out of your joking mood.
He takes a step towards the bed. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry.”
“Woah, hey,” you say, sitting up in the bed. “I’m not mad, Jay. You’ve got a job to do, I get it. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal. I want your birthday to be really special for you, and I promised you last week that I would be there for the whole day, and I just feel like I’m cheating you. It’s important to me that you know I’m not in the habit of making promises I don’t keep.” Jason sits on the side of the bed and rests his palm on your cheek. “Bruce wouldn’t let me off tonight, but I promise I will make tomorrow as perfect as you deserve.”
“As long as you’re with me, it’s as good as it’s gonna get.” You place your hand over his and give him your best smile. He grins right back, shaking his head.
“You’re too good to me, princess.”
“As good as you deserve.”
“Go ahead and sleep, I mean it,” Jason commands softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your hairline before getting up off the bed. “When I come back your birthday will be here and we can celebrate together.”
You scoot down and wiggle under the covers to get comfortable while Jason clambers out the window and out into the night.
Trying to sleep now is no use, you know that. If Jason thinks that you won’t stay up a small while until your birthday begins he doesn’t know you as well as he thinks. You turn over and spot the digital face of the alarm clock on your nightstand.
The clock reads 11:15 . You look past it out the window to the fire escape, and your thoughts drift off.
The metal of the fire escape creaks as you step closer to the railing. You sweep your gaze over the flowers you’re watering, enjoying as much peace as a Gotham summer afternoon can afford you, when a shout from the alley below makes you jump.
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!”
You nearly drop the watering can. Squinting down over the railing, you see Jason looking up at you with a hand shielding his eyes from the sun. His motorcycle is parked behind him, and your heart nearly stops when you see he’s got flowers in his lowered hand.
You laugh, a bit in disbelief, and can practically see the sound float down to him as he breaks into a smile. “That was cheesy, Jay, even for you.”
“Would you like me to reference something else? But soft! What light through-“
“Just get up here!”
You’re happy to stand and watch as he scales the side of your building just as easily in the day as you know he does at night. It may be even more impressive considering he’s dressed in civvies and carrying the flowers, though it’s probably just as hard to do it as Red Hood if you think about it. You’re still not entirely convinced that he can see out of that helmet.
He steps onto your level and holds out what you can now see is a bunch of mismatched flowers tied together with some cord. He must have picked them himself. You try to remain calm at the thought.
“Not sure what kind of gentleman you think you are, scaring a lady like that.”
“Didn’t mean to startle you, Princess.” He says cooly, stepping right up to you. It’s hard to be mad at him when he smiles at you like that.
“You don’t seem that sorry.”
“Want me to prove it to you?”
A chill comes over you and you shiver, pulling the blankets tighter around your shoulders as you turn again. Jason may have been gone more as of late but you can’t fault him when he takes every available opportunity to remind you how special you are.
Frankly, you can’t recall when the whole “princess” thing began. At the start of your relationship, you were positive he meant it in a demeaning way, a sort of pushback for the attitude you gave him. Over time, though, affection saturated the word every time it left his mouth, and Jason quickly noticed the effect it had on you. Despite your protests that it’s overplayed and unnecessary, he’s turned his literary mind against you, continually finding references in your everyday life, and he knows just how much you enjoy it. You don't even bother to hide it anymore, playing into the character like it's a part you wrote for yourself.
You have to admit you’re lucky, and you try to never take any of it for granted. Jason might not be the perfect boyfriend, but you’re certainly not the perfect partner either, and the way he shows up every day eager to prove how much you mean to him is enough for you to give the Red Hood the space to exist in your relationship too.
Jason checks that you are happy and healthy long before he ensures the same for himself. He is observant and doting and protective in such a magnitude that it can occasionally be overwhelming. He has a passion that is so strong sometimes you wonder if no one had bothered to let him unleash it before. He has an inclination for romance so natural sometimes you have to think he’s just been saving it up his entire life. It breaks your heart to imagine people in his life that made him feel like he had to hide it.
You’re rifling through the fridge in the kitchen when you hear Jason walk in, audibly crunching on an apple.
Not seeing anything that catches your eye, you sigh before turning around to face him. He’s got that shine in his eyes that tells you he’s about to put you in the shoes of another character.
“Hey pretty girl, you want a bite?” He holds out the apple out with a smirk. You quickly catch onto what he’s playing at, and you put on a bit of an ingénue voice to indulge him.
“My, kind stranger, what a sweet offering! Surely this apple is unaltered and will not harm me.” You hold his gaze and lean in to take a bite with the apple still in his grip. It’s a little awkward; you wind up having to tear your head back to rip off a chunk of the fruit, and Jason poorly stifles a laugh.
You fake ponder while you chew. “Hmm, that did taste a bit funny. Oh my–“ You press the back of your hand to your forehead and lean into him with your eyes fluttering shut, only for them to fly open when Jason uses your momentum to lower you into a dip.
“Well, Snow White, seems that apple got the best of you.”
You’re a little breathless but you manage to round out the little scenario Jason has set up here. “I’m afraid only a kiss will save me.”
Jason smiles as he leans in and presses his lips to yours.
The clock glares 11:58.
11:58
11:59
11:59
11:59
12:00. Happy Birthday to you.
Like every year, you somehow find yourself surprised that you don’t feel any different. Not that there’s any reason you should. You’re just… older. By a few minutes more than you were a few minutes ago.
You roll away from the clock and settle back into your thoughts. Sleep pulls at the corners of your brain and eventually you give up on the idea of Jason getting off after a half-shift on tonight’s patrol.
You drift in and out of a dreamless sleep until you hear the window open in the living room and Jason clambering in as quietly as he can. Odd . He almost always comes in through the bedroom window at your request. Too many times he had tried to hide injuries or new weapons or duffle bags filled with god knows what from you. The sounds of the city pouring in fade to the background once more as the window shuts and you hear all kinds of commotion as Jason begins to remove and take stock of all his gear. You know the routine so well by now you don’t even have to see it. Maybe he just didn’t want to wake you until he was ready to wish you a happy birthday. You smile at the thought and snuggle deeper into the sheets. He just needs a bit of time and then he can come join you again.
After what feels like a while you peek at the clock again. 02:13 . What is he doing in there? It doesn’t sound like he’s injured, no grunts or groans of pain reach your ears through the walls, but it sure does sound like he’s busy in there. You can hear him shuffling about and even catch a few swears as he bumps into the couch or the counter.
You pull back the covers and slide your feet out onto the floor.
God this looks horrible.
Jason had been trying to tape up this sign and some streamers for 20 minutes and had somehow managed to trip over every piece of furniture they own in the process. He refused to turn on a light so as not to wake you up, but at this rate the whole building probably thinks that he’s decided to do a little midnight remodeling.
He just wanted to do a little something. He knows his patrols have taken him away from you more often than not, and until the current case wraps up he doesn’t foresee many uninterrupted nights with the two of you together. You’ve been so unbelievably understanding about everything, so sympathetic of his commitment to his responsibility as the Red Hood. You’re kind enough to patch him up each night he comes home battered. Never a single sigh or complaint when a call from the Bats steals him from your bed, or when you come home from work to him nocturnally snoring on your couch.
Now your birthday was here and all he had to show for it was two small gifts and what he’s sure are the world’s most haphazardly made decorations. He had meant to prepare all of this earlier in the week but between his scheduled patrols and several emergency calls, he just ran out of time to do it properly. It still doesn’t feel like a decent excuse. Regardless, running out to the manor and back to grab everything tonight was supposed to be a quick trip, but he passed two muggings on the way home that he couldn’t ignore. Though it cost him more time than he would have liked, it was a welcome distraction from how underprepared he was. He feels sort of pathetic looking at it all put together now. He clenches and unclenches his fists, trying to ignore the adrenaline and anxiety kicking up in him at what is possibly the most mundane task he’s completed in the past week. Why does setting up a couple birthday decorations feel like he’s facing down a supervillain? He knows why. The mental image of your face holding a small sweet smile as you tamp down your disappointment puts him through hell. He could not let a day meant to celebrate you go to ruin. He had spent far too many birthdays alone in his life and he would be damned if he had to watch you feel the same emptiness.
A push pin holding the handmade HAPPY BIRTHDAY PRINCESS poster loosens and the sign swings to hang by one corner. Jason sighs. You deserve so much better than this.
It’s very easy for him to see you as royalty in his life. To him, you are a gentle, kind soul who exudes confidence and charisma as though they were gifts you’ve had since birth. He feels the soft command you have over him. He sees the unspoken effect you have on everyone else around you. People gravitate toward your light; even strangers seem to be influenced by your natural pull and Jason can’t help but be drawn in with them.
That kind of grace is not something Jason was blessed with. Sure, he was able to charm you (a feat he still can’t believe he pulled off), but most of the other relationships in his life, familial or professional, seem to rely on him being confident in a very different way. He understands the physical presence that he has and being imposing or perhaps outright frightening at times has gotten him to a place where he can perform his duties as the Red Hood with efficiency and without interruption. It wasn’t until you started shining some light on the gentler facets of his heart that he even remembered how to foster those parts of himself again. You’re good at shining light pretty much everywhere he looks.
The truth is he could compare you to every fairy tale under the sun and never find one that sticks. You are every heroine and yet none are a perfect match. He waits with bated breath to turn the page of each new day because yours is simultaneously a story he has never heard and one he knows within his very soul. All the more reason to make sure your birthday is something special. A whole day dedicated to the one person who makes his life feel like a fairytale rather than some fucked up retelling of Frankenstein.
The bedroom door behind him creaks, breaking up his reverie.
“Jay?” Uh oh.
He turns around to see you rubbing your eyes and panics when he realizes he can’t hide all the things he’s brought into the apartment. He tries to walk towards you and spin you back towards the bedroom anyway, hoping you’ve just woken up and are still too sleepy to notice anything out of place.
Unfortunately, you’ve been more or less up for the past three hours, and you do notice.
You dig your feet into the floor and peek around him, and when Jason feels you gasp and tense up in his arms his heart sinks. It’s over.
He releases you and steps to the side, barely standing to watch but unable to take his eyes away as he turns to see the vision in front of you, and what a sorry sight it is.
Crepe paper streamers in your favorite color are twisted and taped along the ceiling where Jason could get up on the couch and the chair to reach, falling down to the floor where the rest of the roll sits waiting to be unraveled. The handmade sign hangs crooked on the wall, and the light shining from the hallway on it certainly does it no better justice than the dark had. It looks sloppy. It all does. He was hoping the balloons would save it a little bit, but they still sit uninflated in their package on the table. Next to them are your two gifts, wrapped in newspaper in a rush. A bow to match the streamers has been slapped on top of both.
At first you don’t say anything at all, standing stock-still as you slowly look around the room, and the silence makes things impossibly worse in Jason’s mind. Before he can stop it, keep himself from ruining your birthday further before it’s even really begun, he’s already stepping forward to ask forgiveness.
“I’m so, so sorry, baby.” You turn around and look at him in surprise, and in his panic he misreads your expression as disbelief and soldiers on, trying to fix this. “I just wanted to do something nice for you to wake up to tomorrow and I kept running out of time, and I know it looks like shit but there was gonna be balloons and I thought with the streamers all up it might–”
“Jason. Jason, this is unbelievable, you’re unbelievable. You did all of this for me? And you think I’m upset? This is beautiful.” You laugh, and the sound does its usual job of lifting his heart, but his fear still hasn’t receded and somehow it feels like you’re laughing at his shitty craftsmanship. You notice that he doesn’t lighten up, and your smile softens. “Jay, this is the sweetest gesture I can imagine for my birthday. I’m sorry I ruined the surprise by getting up early.”
Before Jason can open his mouth to tell you he’s pretty sure you could never ruin anything, you walk up to him and press a kiss to his lips. It’s brief, and yet it quiets the raucous shouting in his mind telling him that what he has done is no good.
“I love it,” You say, nothing but earnest. “I mean that. Tell me you believe me when I say that.”
“I believe you, but, I mean, look at this.” He gestures around the room at what little he had prepared. “It’s all a pile of junk.”
You place both your hands on his chest, waiting to speak until he looks back down to give you his full attention. “Do you know what I see, Jason? I see a pile of things made with love . For me. It’s perfect. Every inch of it. Just like you.” You flash that same smile that’s taken his breath away since the two of you met, and for the first time tonight, he starts to feel like he hasn’t done it all wrong. He feels himself begin to smile too. That relaxed goofy smile he’s only ever seemed to show you, the one that fits so easily on his face he always wonders why he can’t summon it when looking alone in a mirror. Just another one of those magical things you can do.
Jason’s found in times like this his actions speak louder than words, so he just does what feels right. He slides a hand across your back and cradles the back of your head in the other as he leans in to kiss you. He holds you like you’re the most precious thing in all the world, because you are as far as Jason is concerned. He breaks the kiss and sees your eyes flutter open, looking up at him wide-eyed and breathless like how only he can make you, and he looks into your eyes with all the sincerity and intention he can provide.
“You are absolutely everything to me, princess. Happy Birthday.”