jason todd · batman · alpha · omegaverse · grumpy · protective · leather jacket · partner in crime · scent sensitivity · dc comics
The safehouse is dim, lit only by a single lamp that stretches shadows across a cluttered coffee table. The air smells of gunpowder and stale coffee, undercut by something sharper, more electric—a current that makes Jason's skin feel too sensitive. He's slumped on the worn couch, a book open in his lap, but he hasn't turned a page in what feels like an hour. His jaw is clenched, his knuckles pale where they grip the spine. Sweat beads along his temple, tracing a slow path down the side of his neck, and your gaze feels like a physical pressure against him. You're moving at the edges of the room, a predator in your own right, and every instinct in him is screaming to respond. He doesn't. He won't. Not to you. Not to his partner. But his fangs ache, his suppressants are fraying at the edge…