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ellana-ravenwood · 6 years ago

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Salt, Tequila, Lemon - Jason Todd x Reader

Please read this intro, thank you very much :

So. I posted this yesterday, but after a bug on the Tumblr app on my phone it got deleted. I’m super bummed out because it had over 200 notes and quite a few feedbacks that I never got to read because it was accidentally deleted...If the people that took the time to comment things on the story could take a bit more time to write a little comment again and give me their feedbacks, and also if the people that liked and reblog could do it once more...i’d appreciate the hell out of you <3. So reposting it (thanks god I always have back ups of all my stories now). Written in twenty minutes during my break at work. Bam. Hope you’ll like it :

Also, since Tumblr’s new guidelines and enforcement of it, I DON’T really appear in searches anymore, so the only way for this story to be seen by others than those who follow me is to reblog it. So if you wanna, you can show your support for my writing by doing just that. Thanks very much. You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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Ok. So. Grandma’s remedy against heartbreak ? Oh, right.

Salt. Tequila. Lemon.

Got it. Licking the back of your hand to make the salt stick to it, you pour yourself a massive shot of “To-Kill-Ya” in your coffee mug, not even caring about the fact that there is still some remnant of your cappuccino from last night in it.

You focus on the sound the liquid makes as it fills your cup. Makes you think about something else. Good. Yup. This was totally gonna help right now.

“Cheers”, you exclaim to yourself, your empty apartment echoing your voice.

Salt.

Wincing. Stingy. Salt on its own is gross.

Tequila.

More wincing. Oh my god, it burns. The coffee that was still at the bottom of the cup is an oddly nice touch.

Lemon.

The last of the Wincing.

You spit the piece of lemon you just bit into in the trash and…miss. The yellow fruit falls with a little flat sound on the floor, and you honestly can’t bother to pick it up. Your apartment is a mess anyway, so you just stare at it angrily and pour yourself another drink.

Salt. Tequila. Lemon.

You gulp the last of the citrus and shiver. Miss the trash again.

Damn. This was good.

Well, actually, it was disgusting.

You didn’t like strong alcohol and what the Hell ?! Why did you leave a bit of coffee in your cup ? Now that the aftertaste was kicking in, it was actually really gross. If the tequila itself didn’t make you wanna throw up, the stale coffee taste nearly did. Oh, and the salt and lemon combination was as awful as ever.

You really didn’t like salt, tequila, or lemon.

But it was still good.

Because thanks to all this immediate awfulness, you could slowly feel yourself drift into “haze land”, and forget about your worries.

Forget that your boyfriend of two years just cheated on you with some random woman you worked with. Woman that, by the way, he met at the Christmas “end of the year” party from you work you invited him to…You gave him free champagne and mise-en-bouche and all your love, and he broke your heart.

It wasn’t your thing, to drink your sorrow away. And it wasn’t your thing either to wallow because of a man…But you genuinely thought he was “the one” (oh what a mistake you would soon realize that was).

He was always so nice, treating you like a princess. He complimented you daily, and never forgot an important date. He was affectionate, not to an annoying point. He was the perfectamount of affectionate. He was a gentleman and seemed to love you and yet, he betrayed you.

If a man like him, that was nothing short but sweet and passionate with you, cheated on you, then did that mean you couldn’t trust anyone ?

Because in your eyes right now, he was perfect. Albeit said eyes were slightly clouded by a a few tequila shots.

You were downing a fourth drink starting to slowly sob when…

There’s very few things that can get you out of a drunk state in seconds.

An extremely cold shower could do the trick, for instance. Brings you back to your senses a bit you know ? You wouldn’t magically be sober, but you’d get a clearer mind. Or someone giving you shocking news ! Or like, an event so incredible that your body just forgets how drunk it is for a minute.

And this event, for you, came at the perfect time.

Right when you were entering your “sad drunk” phase, which was between the “lol alcohol does NOTHING to me” phase where you downed most of your drinks, and the “dancing on the bar’s counter” phase (a few more drinks and you would have a one woman dance party in your living room, acting as if you were on a bar’s counter and that your name was suddenly “Britney”).

Right when you were about to wallow times a thousand, and cry, and yell “whyyyyyyy ?!” to the sky, arms in the air (drama queen).

Years later, looking back on that particular event, you’ll start to realize that Destiny HAS to exist. Because come on, it was just too perfect a timing to be a simple coincidence.

You were about to swallow up your fifth drink, launching yourself head first into the “sad phase” when an ear shattering noise rang all around your apartment.

Broken glass.

It was the sound of broken glass. Heightened to the max by your drunkness. You turned on your stool, and…there he was.

It was a guy. That you were sure of because he had no boobs and too much pecs. And that guy…well that guy just flew right through your window, destroying it. How rude.

There was glass everywhere.

How much did a window cost ? Probably a fortune.

You wondered briefly if you could just use aluminium foil and tape the shit up. There was nothing of value to steal in your apartment anyway, and if aluminium foil could keep meals warm, it definitely worked with a house too right ?

You sobered up quite a bit, but you were also very drunk when this event happened, so your mind was still in that cloudy weird phase where your priorities were…interesting.

You worried more about the broken window at first, than about that guy who just launched through it.

A guy.

Not just any guy.

You saw that guy before.

He was one of those night vigilante your crazy hometown was filled with…RED HOOD !!

“Thick thighs”, is the first thing you thought right after you recognized him (priorities).

The second thing you thought was that you needed another drink, and so you downed what was your fifth one, but with that crazy thing happening ended up being on the same level as if it was a second one. You were tipsy, but not “drunk” anymore.

The third thing that came to your mind was…Is he still alive ?

No cause, he was like, just laying there, on your living room’s floor, not moving.

“…Outch.”

Oh. He spoke.

So he ain’t dead. Good, means you can have another drink then, you don’t need a clear mind to call an ambulance or something.

Oddly enough, in your half-drunk half-sober state, this sounded completely reasonable. Nevermind if Red Hood had some internal bleeding or something. He talked. He was probably fine.

A minute passed, and you just sat there, sipping up your tequila in between taking a pinch of salt and biting into a piece of lemon.

Salt, tequila, lemon. Great remedy against heartbreaks.

Wait, were you heartbroken ? Really ? You couldn’t really recall that fact now. But, yeah…it was the reason why you were drinking right ? Because right now, all you could think about was the fact that this Red hood guy had abs for days…

This unforeseen event sobered you up quite a bit, but the two shots you just took kinda brought you back to the same state than you were before.

Well. Not quite. You were drunk as hell again, but seemed to have avoided the “sad phase”. Instead, Red Hood bursting quite literally through your window took you to another road.

The : “Cool, I got a drinking buddy phase”. Well, taking for granted he didn’t have any internal bleeding and wouldn’t die while biting into a lemon wedge.

“Tough day ?”

You ask him, as he slowly sits up and shakes his head, trying to regain his senses. He looks towards you and seem surprised (or at least you think he is, because he wears a mask so…kinda hard to tell).

************

Jason definitely thought he was alone in this place, because no sane person would just sit there, not saying anything, as someone simply jumped through their window. Nope, most people would just freak out. Scream.

He knows, because it’s not the first time he falls through a window during a night on duty. And every single time it happened, people freaked out. Screamed. Threw stuffs at him, or hid away begging for their life to be spared.

And yet here you were, half a bottle of tequila in front of you, surrounded by lemon wedges you bit into, and table salt all over your hand, just staring at him curiously. And did you just say : “tough day” ?

Well, Jason guessed the empty half of the bottle was why you were so chilled about it all. He sat up, and slowly got back to his feet.

Usually, going through a window meant the end of the night for him. He’d go back to one of his secret stash, patch himself up and get some rest. Most of the time, he fell through windows because someone pushed him or threw him there…Though today, he just embarrassingly missed a step and fell by himself.

Of course, no one would ever now he tripped while jumping from one building to another (you lived on the last floor) and went careening into your home (and life). Nope, the official story would be that he fought a fierce enemy and was thrown into that window. Finding fake villains name was easy, given how truly ridiculous some could be.

Tim and Damian were still after the “Illusive Blue Man” that he totally made up that one time he walked into a poll and had a huge black eye that he couldn’t quite explain…Oh man, he had to stop telling such elaborate lies and just say “I fought with a few guys last night” without more explanation.

But he couldn’t help it. And those kids believed everything he said, it was too tempting…But for now, this wasn’t the issue. Nope.

He did a quick check of his body and knew he wasn’t really hurt (thanks “dad” for the amazing body armor ugh ?), so he was planning on leaving that poor girl’s house and send a mystery check in the mail to pay for the damage (money stolen from a certain Bruce Wayne of course, as if he would pay himself).

Yup. He was just gonna stand up, and go on his way and…somehow, he found himself sitting on the stool opposite side of this mysterious girl, and now she was peppering salt on his hand ?

“Salt”, she says, and she has a cute drunk voice. Jason almost forgets he just went through a window a few minutes ago.

“Tequila”, she continues, downing her drink and pointing at the one she poured him. He doesn’t even care the she poured it in a cereal bowl that she didn’t even seem to have clean…He drunk worst things in worst recipient. He turns away to take off his mask and so that she can’t see his face, and “bottom’s up”.

“Lemon !” she finishes, biting into the sour fruit and spitting it in the direction of the trashcan but missing completely. The lemon wedge goes to lost itself amongst his fallen brothers…

Jason bites into his own lemons, and spits it. Right into the garbage.

There’s a slight pause, where she just stares at the trashcan, and then at Jason, back to the trashcan, and then turns to him again and simply says :

“Wow.”

************

So. This was surreal.

Here you were. In your home. Taking tequila shots. With…Red Hood.

One of Gotham’s night vigilante. The most violent one. But the dude seemed chilled. He was holding his liquor really well.

And now you were talking about your broken heart, telling him the story as if he’d been your friend for years. And he was listening. Intently. And reacting to what you were saying. It had been a LONG time, since you had this kind of talk with anyone, and despite the fact you were drunk, you still noticed how nice it felt to have someone to talk to. Someone that genuinely listened.

“And then he slept with her !” you say angrily.

“Nooooooo !?!”

“Yes, he did ! He slept with…with…what was her name…”

“Nicole. From accounting.”

“Right, Nicole from accounting ! That bitch ! She always just…counts and shit ! And he slept with her ! Nicole from accounting ! Whom he met thanks to me, by the way ! At a partyyyy !! At my wooooork !!”

“What an ass.”

“Right ?! Oh but he had such a good ass though…Quite firm. But whenever he wore jeans, it was super flat.”

“So, not such a good ass in the end then ?”

“I guess not. You have a good ass. Popping right out in this outfit of yours.”

Red Hood chuckles, and the sound of his laughter makes you forget that you just said something incredibly embarrassing. His voice is…nice. Deep. Manly. You like it. You wanna make him chuckle some more, so you say, hoping :

“And it looks very firm. Not just quite firm.”

It works. He snorts and it’s very cute. Oh wow. He can be sexy and cute. Full package. You smile a bit dreamily.

For a second, he’s lost in that smile of yours, and there’s a silence installing itself in the room. A comfortable one. That you break :

“Ok. So now, he’s not that perfect anymore ! He got no ass ! Penalty points ! I never notice how un-assed he was before…”

Jason smiles and damn. He’s hot.

Somewhere along the way, he stopped turning his face away from you whenever he took a shot, and just ended up taking his helmet off. He was probably hoping that you’d black out or something, so you wouldn’t remember his face (or he just didn’t care).

In any case, you were pretty sure you never saw him before. His face kinda reminded you of an old memory. Of someone you saw somewhere long ago, when you were a kid…Which wasn’t really a big help right ?

Right. You had no idea who he was. And in your drunken state, probably couldn’t piece anything together anyway. So even if you did know who he could be, you wouldn’t know in the end anyway…Makes perfect sense right ?

What you knew was : he’s hot.

This white streak in his hair did something to you that you couldn’t explain. And that jawline ? You would love to get cut on that bitch. It could actually cut a bitch, you were sure of it. Those blue eyes ? You’ve never seen someone with such blue eyes. And did you mention to yourself how muscular he was ? Because man you only saw guys like this in magazines !

But beyond his handsome features, he seemed like a nice guy. Like he was listening to you, a total stranger. And this realization suddenly raised your guard up.

You also thought that your ex-cheating-boyfriend was a nice guy. And come to think of it, who the hell just barge in someone’s home like that, and actually stay to drink tequila shots ?! Wait but…in your guts…it’s not like with your ex.

You don’t think he’s a nice guy. You know he is.

************

There’s a visible shift in your mood, after this realization. So far, you talked to him about your broken heart freely, and he listened.

Oddly enough, no words that came out of your (perfect) mouth bored him. Jason wasn’t sure wether it was the alcohol or not, but you captivated him.

But in a split second, and without him knowing why, your features changed. You were now frowning. Like an unhappy little kid. It was kinda cute, but he didn’t like it because…why were you frowning ?

He tries to lighten up the mood and says :

“Well here you go. See, you didn’t loose the perfect guy, his ass was flat in jeans. Can’t work with that, can you ? I bet we can find other flaws. Make you realize he actually was a looser.”

Your guard is up, but you can’t help but smile a bit, plus you were frowning just now because you realized you just knew you could trust that total stranger, and it was so weird….

Besides, no harm in indulging this, because you’re pretty sure it’ll make you feel better to try and see the bad side of your ex-boyfriend, not just his good ones. No one was perfect. And so, still a bit careful, you say :

“Well…He never got any of my Tv shows or movie references.”

“Well, here’s a point to take off of his “perfectness”. Doesn’t get pop culture references. Deal breaker.”

“Yeah…Yeah you’re right. It is. He also used to hate when I made jokes. I like puns ya know ? Terrible ones. Well, he was always embarrassed whenever I made them in public.”

“Ashamed of his girlfriend, doesn’t sound very gentlemanly, right ?”

“Yeah. It doesn’t. Maybe he wasn’t such a perfect gentleman…He also used to not want to go out with me if I didn’t wear any make-up and was dressed just casually.”

“What you mean, he never just went out with you ?”

“We only went out on dates. I had to dress up. I could be casual home though…”

“Well goodie, the man let you be yourself when you were home. Big deal. To be honest, sounds like a douchey move.”

“That was kinda douchey…I never cared what he looked like.”

And it’s true. For you, physical appearance wasn’t everything. And sure you thought your ex was hot and all, but only because you liked his personality too. You liked his jokes, you were never ashamed of anything he said.

And right now, sure that stranger that bursted through your window was hot, but the reason you felt like you could tell him things was because he just made you comfortable by his mere aura. Because he gave you such a good vibe.

You never were fully about appearances. It was always just a bonus for you…So it never occurred to you why your ex would only hang out in public with you if you were pampered. Like he used to hate when you just wore hoodies and no make-up, even if you didn’t need make-up to be beautiful.

Comes to think of it, he was very much about appearances…Uh. Interesting. You never realized that before.

You turn to Red Hood, and the look on your face says it all. You’re slowly realizing maybe you didn’t just lost “the one”. The vigilante says :

“Ok, so : no ass, no humor apparently, doesn’t get pop culture references, and was kind of a jerk when it came to going out with you…”

“He did tell me often that I was beautiful though. Including when I just woke up from a night out, and was awful looking.”

“Yeah, but he never went out with you looking like that. He shouldn’t feel ashamed of hanging out with you looking like that. Just like he shouldn’t feel embarrassed when you joke. He can be exasperated, like if you really make bad puns, sure. And he can think it’s unfunny…But embarrassed ? No.”

“I guess…I never thought about it.”

“Well let me tell you, as someone who does not know neither you nor him personally, he sounds like a bit of a jerk. Let’s not forget he cheated as well. Like, that’s not something good people do. Especially not with…Nicole from accounting.”

“Nicole from accounting…Yeah. They’re together now though.”

“So ? He should’ve broken up with you if he realized he liked her. That’s the right thing to do. Trust me on that, I put villains behind bars for a living, I know what’s right or wrong.”

“I heard you kill criminals.”

“Used to. I used to kill criminals, I had issues. I’ll tell you one day if you wanna. It’s a real tear jerker story. With clowns and crowbars. And I’m telling you that because I’m drunk, right now. Also, if we want to be specific, I don’t actually make a living out of putting villains behind bars. Like, I don’t get paid or anything…”

Jason finds himself ranting about anything that comes to his mind, and though he hears himself claim it’s because of the alcohol he’s saying all this, he realizes maybe there’s something else making him want to talk.

You. A total stranger he walked upon. Or rather, went-through-the-window upon. Who didn’t freak out when he went through said window. And instead, invited him over to have tequila shots.

Because, according to your grandmother, the best remedy to…basically any problems in life, was “salt, tequila, lemon”.

“She was a wise woman.”

He says, and you turn to him, clearly not understanding what he was talking about.

“Who ?”

“Your grandma. For saying that salt, tequila and lemon was a great remedy against heartbreaks and all.”

“Oh. Yeah. I wouldn’t know, I never met her. She died before I was born.”

“Well what she passed on to your parents is great.”

“What ?”

“Well, that “salt, tequila and lemon” thing, I assume she said that to your mom or dad, and then they said that to you, and then it became your grandma’s advice. Right ?”

“…Nah. It’s an excuse I made up. Whenever I need to justify something, I just say “like my grandma said, ain’t no shame in eating an entire tub of ice cream if you want to”, and then people are just like “oh yeah, cool”, because when you say the word “grandma”, then it gives a perspective to your words ya know ?”

Jason had no idea what you were on about, but he loved it. You seemed to be very smart. And witty. And funny. The hell did that guy cheated on you for ? And why was he ashamed of going out in public with you when you weren’t dressed up ?!

You currently wore “Hello Kitty” pyjamas, had absolutely no make up on, and your hair was a mess, and he thought you looked gorgeous.

“Why are you so nice ?”

Your question takes him by surprise, and for a few seconds he doesn’t register it and just says : “ugh ?”

“To me. Why are you so nice to me ? Is it the alcohol ? Does it make you nice ? Or are you just nice to every stranger ? Every girl you destroy the windows of ? Or are you like my ex ? You seem nice, but then you go off and cheat on your girl simply because you like another girl and you’re too cowardly to break up with your current girl ?”

Jason hiccups slightly, and says :

“No, I’m not nice to any girl I met. I’m actually usually kind of a jerk, too “brutally honest”. But you…I don’t know. You give me good feelings. Oh and here’s to add on his flaws list. “Coward”. Can’t even break up with a girl, has to wait to get caught red-handed and break her heart. Cooooward. Bad flaw. Kind of guy who runs in the face of danger, instead of standing by you.”

It’s probably the fact that he said “you give me good feelings” that spurs this in you. That gives you a new clearer perspective on things.

“My heart wasn’t broken.”

It’s a shock, to you. This realization. This sudden feeling jumping in your face. You…are not heartbroken. You’re mad. You’re frustrated. You feel betrayed. You feel a crazy burning anger towards your ex for toying around with you like that. For not having the balls to just break up, after spending two years together.

He was suppose to know you. To be your friend. Things could have turned out better. He could have just come up to you, say the truth, and…You were pretty sure you’d still be friend. Because he really was a great guy.

He really was all the good thing you though about him. He made a mistake, an unforgivable one in your book. But he was a great guy.

He was just…not your great guy. Not anymore at least.

And you realized, there, quite drunk, that…It was ok.

Your heart wasn’t broken.

Your pride was. Your trust was. But your heart ? …Maybe you weren’t completely in love with him. You were best friends, yes, but love ? Maybe it wasn’t love…

Your heart wasn’t broken.

“My heart isn’t broken.”

You tell Red hood, looking at him right in his wonderful ocean blue eyes. And he looks right back at you, and just nods. Just like that. And then he pours you one last tequila shot.

Because like your grandma would say : “When you make great discovery about yourself…Salt, tequila, lemon”.

************

It took you only a few hours with him to realize that you weren’t in love with your ex, and that was kinda scary. Because this realization didn’t come from nowhere.

Nope.

But when he said that your ex broke your heart, you felt obligated to tell him that no. No your heart wasn’t broken. You were sad and angry, yes, but not heartbroken. For you, in that moment, it was important for this total stranger to know you weren’t actually in love.

Hell, you didn’t even know yourself you weren’t that in love before you talked to him. It just came as a sudden, yet utterly true revelation.

Because, and this wasn’t the alcohol speaking…You felt incredibly attracted to that guy. To Red Hood. Not just because of the white streak in his hair, and the eyes, and smile, and voice, and abs, and thick thighs. That too, sure, but not only…Nope.

Nope. Not because of this.

But because he had a tough day (he said so himself, explaining to you how he went through the window…he was fighting a super-villain when he got flung through your window, tough tough time ahem), and yet he sat with a crazy lady that peppered salt on his hand and practically forced him to take a tequila shot…

Because you could see in his eyes, and felt in your guts that he didn’t have an easy life…and yet he took a break from whatever he was doing to just sit with you and listen to you. He didn’t even make sense, that you trusted those feelings so fiercely. And yet, you did. Because he listened to you.

He saw you were struggling and he stayed. And though you felt you couldn’t trust anyone at that time…You oddly felt like he was ok.

Like he wouldn’t be the kind of guy to cheat, or run in the face of danger, leaving you all alone to fight off demons.

In a few short hours, you fell for this guy more than you ever fell for your ex.

What did that say about you uh ? …That was pretty pathetic…

************

Jason didn’t think that you were pathetic at all.

On the contrary. If he went to seat with you, and drink with you, is because he was instantly mesmerized by you.

And though he didn’t know at first why, now he was sure of it.

It’s because you didn’t freak out. And something told him it wasn’t only because you were a bit drunk (he fell in drunk people’s home before…none reacted like you).

Nope. It was because you were special. He just knew it. Special in every way. Funny. Beautiful. Genuinely listening to him when he was speaking.

He peppered his own problems within your story, as you told him. And you listened. Hell, even referenced a few things he said early on, way later, while you were crazy drunk. You listened.

You gave a total stranger that seemed to have a tough day some salt. And tequila. And lemons.

And then you cared. You asked him a thousand times if he was ok, and he basically had to take off his armor to prove it so (to your eyes’ greatest pleasure…mm mm mm those muscles).

Captivated. He was captivated by you. It was strange, and though he knew it was because you were special, he still was unclear as to why his feelings were that strong.

For someone he just met. And barely knew. And only knew while drunk.

You were just…Special.

************

It was surreal. The all thing.

What started as a night where you planned on wallowing your pain and drinking…ended up changing your life.

And no one could convince you that it wasn’t Fate. Because what were the odds that Red Hood would fall through YOUR window after tripping (yeah you didn’t buy that “fighting super-villains thing” at all) ?

What were the odds of his timing being so perfect, arriving just before you started to cry ? Because there was no doubt in your mind that if he had come a few seconds later, he wouldn’t have stayed.

He would have found a crying mess, and maybe he would have tried to confort you but…You wouldn’t have answered. In your “sad phase”, you only cry and whine. He would have eventually left. And the wonderful talk you’d just have, would never have happened.

But instead. He came right before your lips touch that fatal shot of tequila that would have brought you into the “sad phase”. And took your drunkness down a notch. Rerouted your evening.

You weren’t wallowing anymore, you were ranting.

Sharing your anger and frustration.

And he helped you realize that your ex wasn’t that perfect…That maybe it was just not meant to be…After all, he cheated on you.

Uh. What a shame. You didn’t even know his name…”Red Hood”…

You wished you knew his name.

************

The morning lights were rising, and the bottle of tequila was long gone.

There were still salt and lemons though. For some reason, you decided to buy the entire grocery store’s stock of lemons.

Red Hood stood up, and said he had to go.

He was nice about it. Said it was a pleasure to have spend the night with you. You both laughed about the innuendos that ensued.

You were exactly on the same page. And he understood all your joke referencing to pop culture…

But it was time for him to go. And he apparently had no intention of telling you his real name. He didn’t hint either at ever coming back to see you again.

And there was that. Just a nice night, spend talking to a genuine friend that you’ll never see again.

A genuine friend that you didn’t even know a few hours before.

Maybe it was the alcohol speaking. Maybe not.

And even if you ended up never seeing him again, this evening truly changed your life…At least, it saved you from a heartbreak. Made you realize it wasn’t that.

Though, now, as he climbs out of the window again (he couldn’t possibly use the front door), you feel like the actual heartbreak is starting.

Grandma’s remedy against heartbreak ? Right.

Salt, tequila, lemon…

But the tequila is all gone.

“I’ll send someone to fix that window…Sorry again about that. …Bye.” are his last words, and then he’s out.

And the tequila is all gone.

************

…

Days pass by in a blur.

Salt. Tequila. Lemon.

Ugh. But you don’t want to this time. You don’t want to get drunk to forget.

You don’t want to forget him. And you know it’s ridiculous to get that worked up over a guy you met one night and that will never come back. That you didn’t even know the name of.

This entire night was weird anyway.

Getting drunk with a dangerous night vigilante. Pouring your heart out to him, and him doing the same. The hell were you even thinking ?

Salt. Tequila. Lemon.

That would be a good idea to do this right now, because man…your heart hurt. More than when you discovered your ex sleeping with Nicole. From accounting. But you can’t resolve yourself to drink. To forget. Nope. Instead you…

*Knock knock knock*.

Uh ? You take a quick look at your clock in the kitchen.10 pm. Who the hell is coming at 10 pm ?! It can only be bad news. Especially in Gotham…You peep into the eyehole and…

WHAT ?!

You open your door quickly, and…

“Told you I’d send someone to fix your window.”

It’s him. It’s Red hood. But in…civilian clothes.

His ass doesn’t look flat in jeans.

He’s holding a window wrapped in cardboard, and there’s a toolbox at his feet.

“Yeah, you did…come in.”

************

Jason Todd.

That’s his name. And connections are fast to be made in your brain. Jason Todd. Bruce Wayne’s adopted son. That supposedly died…ten years ago.

And is Red Hood now. Oh. It makes sense. Even his little “killing criminals” thing while Batman never killed. You easily put two and two together.

Red Hood. Jason Todd. Bruce Wayne.

Wow. Can’t believe you never guessed that before. Of course Bruce Wayne is Batman. He’s got the motive, the means, the excuses…It’s so obvious. And yet, you never realized. And no one else in Gotham ever realized.

Jason Todd.

Now you know his name.

And he’s fixing your window. Nobody ever fixed windows for you before (even those who broke it).

Um. To add to the “perfect man” list : “Handy”.

Jason Todd.

He quickly works the window up, and then he turns to you. While he was working you talked, as if you knew each other for years. Joking around. Like old friends. Like old extremely good and close friends.

It fits. It clicks. It’s natural. You and him, him and you.

Barely knowing each others, and yet knowing each others the best.

Jason. Todd.

He turns to you now, and with a smirk, he says :

“Ya know, my grandma always say that when something good happens to you, you need to celebrate. And I feel like this, right now, you and I, though I have no idea what we’re doing and where it’s going…Well it’s still something to celebrate. And she always says, my grandma, that to celebrate perfectly you need…”

You smile.

Yeah. You don’t know where this thing between you two is going, but you do know that you never met someone who so fully understood you.

And in such a short span of time. And you know you’re not mistaking. It’s a feeling too strong to be a mistake.

He came back to fix your window for god’s sake. And trusted you enough to tell you his actual name. Without a second thought. Which meant everything. Especially since from all the hint he let slip through last time you saw each others, about his father, well…let’s just say telling people his real name wasn’t really something he was used to.

But it just works. It fits. It clicks. It’s not like with your ex, because you don’t think you know it does. It just does. The fact that you say those next few words in perfect sync finishes to convince you :

(“…And she always says, my grandma, that to celebrate perfectly you need…”)

“Salt, tequila, and lemons.”

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I’m so mad the Tumblr app crashed and I deleted the original post...Y’all were great and reblogged the hell out of it ! Which is why it got so many notes in such a short span of times. And feedbacks. I haven’t had that many feedbacks on a story in a long time. So just one last time and I won’t bother you with that again : Please, if you enjoyed this story, don’t hesitate to reblog it and share it with others. People who don’t follow me can’t really find my stories anymore so...you’re a big help by spreading them. It’s always very encouraging.

And if you got the time, feedbacks are always hella appreciated and always make my day a little brighter <3.

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