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He opens his door to find Damian Wayne standing there with two swords in both his hands, visibly fuming. This would probably be more intimidating if the squirt weren’t at eye level with the middle of his autopsy scar and dressed like a walking traffic light.
“Hello, Red Hood,” Damian grits out between his teeth.
“Sup, Robin,” Jason says. “I just got done making mujaddara. You want some?”
Damian stands still as a statue for exactly ten seconds, his grip on his swords knuckle-white. Then he very firmly nods.
—
Or: Jason really wants to get revenge, on like, everyone, but he keeps postponing his plans because Damian Wayne insists on stalking him. Somehow, the angry chihuahua child worms his way into Jason’s undead heart. This is not a drill.
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